#like before he got injured he could right?

[rafeysdeer]

dizzy (aka clumsy reader x protective jason)

civil!reader x jason todd

prompt: jason and his really clumsy girlfriend who is so used to her bruises from simply bumping around, that she forgets that it's not exactly the usual for other people to walk around with bruises. jason who isn't exactly happy to see his girlfriend hurt and makes it his new mission to take care of her.

a/n: that one i think it looks really cute, i'm also a really clumsy person, so it was pretty easy to come out with this one, him taking care of her was just so cute, i can sleep better knowing that they got eachother, anyways, english is not my first language, hope you guys enjoy it 💗

Jason was used to bruises and injuries, part of the job he chose, but he didn't expect that on a cold thursday night, he would find his girlfriend with a bandaged wrist and bruises all over her body, some that even looked old. He expected even less that she would give him a bright smile and run to hug him as if everything was normal, what he didn't know was that bruises and a bandaged wrist were just everyday nonsense for the clumsy girl.

"Honey, what happened to your wrist? Did someone hurt you?" he asks, carefully picking up her injured wrist to take a look, a worried expression on his face, his brow furrowed as he studies it. "Oh, it's nothing, I just got distracted and fell on it, it's okay."

And Jason looked at her face with a huge question mark on his face. "Did you fall on your own arm?" he said looking more and more confused. "Yeah? It was no big deal, really, I've had worse. Come in, i made hot chocolate" she said with the brightest smile on her face, as if she didn't have a fractured wrist.

He followed her into the apartment, the confusion never leaving his face as he slowly closed the door and followed her into the kitchen. Before he could even reach the cozy kitchen, he heard a soft groan of pain, followed by a muttered curse.

He rushes into the kitchen, afraid that she was hurt, even more hurt. And he was right, when he came inside, he found two colorful mugs of boiling chocolate with small marshmallows on the counter, some of the very same hot chocolate spilled around, and his girlfriend, with the hand that was not bandaged, under the cold running water of the sink, with a light burn on the torso of her hand.

"Love? What happened?" he asks, getting closer to her so he can see the injury more clearly. "Nothing serious, Jay, just a lil' burn, i'll be fine, just give me a minute to clean it up." she says, smiling and looking really calm for someone who just burned her own hand.

And as she moves to grab the rag to clean everything up, she bumps into the counter, holding onto it to steady herself, and it hits him, something finally clicks. All the times he watched her get hurt, bump into something or someone, get burned, fall awkwardly, it's too many to count.

She made a joke or two about being a distracted person and clumsy, but he didn't realize how much until now.

He smiled slightly as he watched his girlfriend try to balance the two mugs, knowing how this would end terribly, taking the mugs from her hand. "Honey, go sit on the couch, I'll take these." He noticed her frown, already starting to protest. "You don't have to do this, Jay, I want to help." But he was already interrupting her. "Sweetheart, please, you're going to help me by going sit on the couch." She huffed slightly but went anyway, sitting down and waiting for him to come right behind with the mugs, he put the mugs on the coffee table and went towards the bathroom to get the burn ointment.

And from that point, it just became a routine, her clumsily hurting herself, him taking care of her right after, and at some point it was like he had a sixth sense of when she was going to get hurt, being a vigilante also helped a lot with his reflexes.

So, they were walking down the street and she tripped? His arm was around her before her body could even dream of falling. They were cooking and she was cutting something? The knife was out of her hand before she could cut herself, and he told her to do something safer, like opening the dough.

And just like that, it became something of his, caring for her and looking out for her, knowing how to take care of her when she got hurt, and knowing how to stop her from getting hurt, and for that, she was eternally grateful.

[callsign-mimic]

A Part of the Pack

Chapter 5

Content Warnings: Mentions of violence, reality adjacent Mimic, cavity inducing fluff

Price and Gaz had to practically drag Saint out of the med bay once Mimic had been admitted. Despite her having been completely lucid and seemingly unbothered. It was only because Mimic herself had firmly requested that Saint adhere to protocol that they allowed themself to be led back to the den.

Alphas weren’t supposed to be anywhere near an injured Omega. And that normally wouldn’t have been an issue for Saint. If they hadn’t watched Mimic get stabbed right before their eyes. The fact that Saint still reeked of blood that wasn’t there, in spite of the copious amounts of neutralizer that they’d been doused in, hadn’t really helped put the medics at ease with their initial refusal to leave.

It helped that Ghost had promised to stay by her side. Hell, it even helped that Nikolai had offered to stick around until she was cleared to leave medical. Two huge Omegas that bordered on Alphas watching over the scrappy little operative was enough for Saint to begrudgingly leave.

“She’ll be fine.” Gaz promises. “She was still making jokes the whole time. One little knife won’t be enough to take out our Mim.”

“And it’s going to be a running joke for the little menace for the rest of our lives.” Price grumbles, running a hand through his hair.

“Ye know she’s gonna want ta keep th’ knife.” Soap says, a shiteating grin splitting his face.

Saint huffs, comforted by the men’s words, but far from satisfied with the situation. The faint, coppery tang of the enemy soldier’s blood was still on the back of their tongue. It had been incredibly satisfying to see the ruined remains of the man on the ground before they had rushed Mimic to exfil.

A lot of the residual stress washed down the drain with the blood, sweat, and grime of the mission as Saint showered. When they returned to the den, their Omegas had made a nest. A comfortable pile of blankets, pillows, clothes… Anything they could find with even the barest hint of Mimic’s scent on it. All to comfort their incredibly stressed Alpha.

Saint’s neutralizers didn’t stand a chance against the stress they felt as they waited for word of Mimic’s condition. It got to the point where they couldn’t really leave the den for long periods of time. For fear of overwhelming the rest of the base.

Mimic, to her credit, is a good sport about the whole ordeal. Requesting only the bare minimum for painkillers, not wanting to be too doped up to appreciate her watchful company.

Nikolai stays right by her side as promised. Though the medics don’t appreciate how he keeps making her laugh as he regales her with tales of his escapades during her three year absence.

“She’s recovering from a punctured lung.” One very annoyed medic snaps, glaring at Nikolai. “You’re going to exacerbate her injuries if you keep making her laugh like that.”

“Nonsense!” The burly Russian says with a laugh. “She is made of sterner stuff than you think. She will let me know when I am too much.” The medic rolls her eyes, huffing in annoyance before they finish checking Mimic’s vitals and flit out of the room.

Ghost acts as a messenger of sorts. Moving between Mimic’s bedside and the den to keep the rest of the team up to date on her condition. The more good news he brings back, the more Saint starts to relax.

It’s a week before Mimic is finally released from the med bay. She’s given plenty of medical restrictions, including a very pointed remark about not laughing too hard. Not that the team intended on letting her do much of anything, anyway.

Including heading back to her isolated cabin.

“Doc said you’re not in any state to be travelling overseas.” Price says, his tone just stern enough to discourage argument. He crosses his arms as he stares down at Mimic. Who was trapped on the couch in Soap’s arms with Gaz resting his head in her lap.

“Why do you want to leave so soon, anyway?” Gaz asks, massaging Mimic’s hand as it rests on his chest. “Don’t you like being here? With us?”

“I do. Genuinely.” Mimic replies. She feels Soap nuzzle against her neck, making her shift slightly. “I’m just not comfortable being around everyone else on base. It’s… It’s kind of overwhelming after three years alone.”

“Ah, солнышко, but you are not meant for isolation.” Nikolai says, wrapping an arm around Price’s waist and pulling him close.

“Ye need a pack, m’eudail.” Soap murmurs against her neck. Saint perks up at his words, catching the attention of Price, Ghost, and Nikolai.

“That’s implying that there’s a pack that wants me…” Mimic grumbles in response, then yelping when both Gaz and Soap deliver a sharp nip to her pale skin.

“You have a pack that wants you, luv.” Ghost growls, the low rumble betraying his irritation and causing Mimic to give him a sheepish look.

Saint moves over to the couch, gently disentangling Mimic from Soap and Gaz. They hold her tightly to their chest, muzzle buried in her hair. Saint inhales deeply before grumbling out a single word. Enough to make Mimic’s heart melt.

“Stay.”

[angelbby555]

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅ Boo boo's

summary: Benny was expecting you to be mad for getting into another fight. Except this time around you had a different attitude.

Word count: 1k

⋆. ୨୧˚⋆

Your least favorite thing in the world was watching your husband come home all bloody and bruised. He took his licks like a man, because if he didn't want to get injuries then he would never get into fights in the first place. You admired Benny's loyalty to the gang, but getting into fights that weren't never meant for him never made sense to you.

Benny was crazy like that, but you still loved your husband. You liked him because of his qualities and loved him despite some of his qualities. Honestly you were just glad you didn't have to witness the last fight that put him in the hospital.

You were laying down in your shared bed when you heard the front door open. Automatically a smile took over your face happy to hear your husband home. When a few minutes passed and he still wasn't upstairs a frown tugged at your lips.

Instantly you knew your rebellious husband had gotten into a fight based on the way he lingered downstairs. He knew as his wife, you would fuss over him, so he would camp out in the living room to avoid your disappointment. You checked the clock on your night stand, before getting out of your cozy bed making your way downstairs.

There Benny was in all his glory, sitting in his leather arm chair while watching TV. Drinking a can of beer and smoking a cigarette. Benny's knuckles were bloody and raw and, he had a fresh scar on his bicep.

Guessing switch blades were involved in this one. Matter of fact you didn't want to know, it would only get you upset. The only thing that illuminated the room was the TV. Benny took a swing from his beer can before averting his gaze off the screen to where you were standing. A warm look over took his cold blue eyes.

"Hi baby." He grunted sitting up on the leather chair, and immediately putting his cigarette out on the ashtray. You did like the smell, so Benny never smoked around you. Which you always found endearing. "Shouldn't you be in bed?"

You couldn't resist laughing the way he treated you like a little girl, so you gave him a response a little girl would say.

"No because my daddy forgot to tuck me in."

You shifted on your tippy toes and then back down to the heels of your pedicured feet. Benny's lips were tugging in a lopsided grin.

"C'mere." He motioned with his bruised hand. Obediently you were making you way to your husband, as he pulled you on his lap. His hands made home securely around you waist. "You want a kiss goodnight too?" Benny teased.

His head rested on your chin and you placed your hand on the nape of his neck. "If you don't mind."

Then Benny was kissing your cheek multiple times, not stopping until you were a giggling mess from how his facial hair tickled your cheek.

Your hand accidentally brushed up against his bloody knuckle causing him to breath out through his nose from the sting. Benny was quick to move his right hand off your waist, so you wouldn't get suspicious of his injured hand.

Except you had already seen it, so you were turning to face your husband. You didn't want to give your husband a hard time on it like you always did. Benny was bracing himself for the scolding he was gonna get.

"Benny's got a boo boo."

Benny exhaled the breath he had been holding. He corrected you several times that it wasn't called a 'boo boo' but rather a small injury he could take. He wouldn't correct you this time, since he was relieved that you weren't mad.

"You heal my wounds and I'll tuck my girl in?" His voice was a mix of hopefulness and caution not knowing how you would react. It was amusing because in your eyes Benny looked a bit scared.

"Deal"

⊹☆~⟡⋆

The first aid kit was in the bathroom so Benny was sitting on top of the toilet seat cover while you stood in between his legs. You add rubbing alcohol on a cloth before gently applying it to his laceration on his bicep. Benny brows furrowed a bit at the sting. To take some of the pain away you started to blow on his scar.

You didn't notice the fond look Benny had in his eyes as you took care of him. He loved when you patched him up. Made him feel loved.

"It wasn't my fault." Benny looked up at you with a pleading look to believe him. Your calm attitude had really confused your husband. Benny felt the need to explain himself, tell a version of a story that made him seem like the hero when he was in fact in the wrong.

"I love you Benny." Benny closed his mouth as he was about to give you a whole run down on what happened. Here he was afraid of your bitching, and here you were switching your attitude up on him.

"Gosh you drive me crazy." He laughed rubbing a hand down his jaw. Benny wrapped both hands around your waist and buried his face in your shirt. "I love you too." Benny muttered in your shirt.

You grabbed a band aid from the first aid kit knowing that Benny would probably take it off the next day. However you still took the white paper off the band aid before stick it on his bicep, covering the laceration.

"Nurse, kiss my boo boo." Benny playfully asked letting you go. A giggle slipped your lips because you never would have thought to hear the cute expression 'boo boo' come out of him. You smiled at him before pressing a kiss to his bicep and rough knuckles. "Right then."

Benny stood up stretching his back out before, he quickly scooped you up in his big arms bridal style making you squeal.

"Let's get you to bed." He smirked, moving out of the bathroom.

[akicine]

Hi hello I hope you're well I hope your requests are open if not please ignore this but can I ask blade with a lover from when he was yingxing who he lost a long time ago and they reunite and the spark is still there just some cute fluff and abit of angst

IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG I SWEAR TO GOD MY WIFI IS SO SHITTY , EVERYTIME I REFRESHED , IT DIDNT SAVEEE SO I HAD TO RESTART 4 TIMES.

The same , yet different (Blade x Reader)

You thought you’d never see him again.

After all these years , you’d never tried to dream that he would come back.

And yet, here he is , right in front of your eyes , looking at you with a cold stare , and talking to you with curt responses.

When you had first gotten a note , claiming that you could meet your lover once again , you thought it was just a scam , seeing that you haven’t met him in centuries and have long given up on the hope of seeing him again.

However that one small part of you , clung on to the hope that you would meet him again.

So when you arrived at the destination given , you thought you were hallucinating, seeing the stellaron hunter Kafka , and …

And-

Yingxing.

But then you realized , he wasn’t Yingxing.

He was blade.

Just like how you were questioning his existence and how he’s here , he was questioning his feelings about you.

He doesn’t know why , but whenever he thinks of you , he feels a soft pang in his heart , almost as if he was mourning the loss of something , but forgot what it was.

You know that face , you’ve seen it for the past couple of centuries , yet he was different from what he used to be.

Snow White hair , now a dark indigo , with ends as red as wine.

Those eyes that used to hold the pride and life of a blacksmith, now dead and holds the regrets and pain of centuries.

Even then , he’s still Yingxing to you.

Your lover , who had stayed with you for years , even when he was a short life species , you had loved him , cared for him when he got injured, and laughed with him.

Tears rolled down your cheeks as you finally realized that he had come back to you .

He doesn’t know why it bothers him so much , he doesn’t care to remember people from his past life , but whenever it comes to you , he feels the urge to gently wipe away your tears , as if it’s some familiar thing he always did , and comfort you.

With great ‘reluctance’ he gently pulls you into his arms and rubs your lower back , getting into a comforting rhythm as he tries to comfort you.

He presses his chapped lips together , trying to figure out a way to make you feel better , but then he hears a sound of pure joy and looks down to see you smile .

He hasn’t seen anything better than it.

He gently cups your face , something he hasn’t done in centuries , and tilts it up a bit more before smiling.

He hasn’t done that in centuries.

You gently grasp his hand , one that’s so familiar to you , and squeeze it , relishing the fact that he’s truly here with you.

He takes the time to slowly reacquaint himself with your features , memorizing your features , wishing that the Mara wouldn’t wipe his memory away.

He hasn’t felt the call of Mara once in this time span

He gently kisses your forehead .

He may not be Yingxing , but he’ll still love you like him.

[mizusbabygirl]

rotting away ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱₊⁺⊹⋆₊˚⊹ᰔ

se-mi (player 380) x fem reader ────୨ৎ──── se-mi is in a band with thanos, min-su, and nam-gyu and you happen to be a really big fan of them, specifically a really big fan of se-mi… ────୨ৎ──── cw: se-mi enjoys dry humping you (bring dry humping back 😂✌️) especially in front of the other band members, se-mi fucks you with her strap-on in the backstage before and after her performances (thanos likes to walk in on the two of you to record but se-mi ends up beating the shit out of him after), she has pet names for you like “princess,” “doll,” “baby,” “slut,” even though you hated them at first, se-mi enjoys photographing you so she could fap to your pictures after, reader eats out se-mi while she records a song in the recording room (we could probably wonder how that song sounded after it got released), se-mi loves to smack your ass randomly (don’t worry it’s consensual)

“se-mi! is that you?!” you yelled out as you stumbled upon se-mi, an artist from a band that didn’t quite have much recognition yet. se-mi was seen standing next to min-su, another member from her band. you ran as fast as you could so you got the chance to be noticed by your favourite artist.

you had such a big obsession with se-mi that you didn’t even notice min-su standing next to her outside of a coffee shop helping her gather the very few fan gifts she received from her past performances. as expected, se-mi looked from admiring her gifts to looking straight at you, running at her. to your surprise, you tripped over a rock and fell right in between se-mi and min-su.

“are you alright, pretty girl?” se-mi asked sounding cocky with her question as you struggled to get up after injuring your leg. she let out her hand to pull you back up onto your feet even though you cringed at the random pet name she gave you but you brushed it off. “thank you, se-mi. i just wanted to come ‘round here to let you know that i’m one of your biggest fans and that i love-“ you grunted as the pain in your leg got worse “fuck!”

her eyes widened at the sight of one of her fans being hurt right in front of her. “i’m not a doctor but i hope this could help,” se-mi leaned in to give you a small peck on the lips causing you to jump around and squeal right after.

“oh and for my next performance, you’ll get to pay me a visit in the backstage,” she said with a wink as she handed you a backstage pass.

it was the end of her performance, you were in the backstage, making out with se-mi, wearing a sexy miniskirt that flashed your panties to her. the concert was nice but the taste of her tongue entering in your mouth was even better, making a wet spot in your panties as she placed her hands on you.

“you look so fucking gorgeous, i couldn’t wait to finish performing so i could come over her and get a taste of you,” se-mi said before going back in, basically eating your lips like a hungry animal. not to mention the fact that you were so needy for her, your knee hitting her in between her legs.

se-mi broke the make out with you eventually, leaving you in heat. “bend over, baby,” se-mi demanded as you immediately got into position. her hands wandered around your lower back and your ass, giving it a nice slap. “if only i could breed you and make you completely mine,” she said hungrily as she slammed her hips against you, humping your ass repeatedly and her hands gripping onto your hips tightly. “se-mi..” you moaned out her name, your back arched as you felt her go faster and harder.

your panties were soaking wet and all you wanted to do in that moment is rip them off.

se-mi eventually stopped, fixing herself before thanos walked in along with nam-gyu. “who’s this?” thanos said while examining you with his eyes as if you were an intruder. “she had a backstage pass,” se-mi assured him but then she turned around to give you a wink. “i see, anyways make sure to not get black out drunk like last time,” thanos said as he threw his arm around nam-gyu and walked out of the backstage to meet up with min-su at a local bar to celebrate their third performance.

“aren’t you going to go with them?” you asked. “no, i don’t need to treat myself to a silly expensive drink since now i have something better to treat myself with,” se-mi gave you a peck on your cheek. the heat in your body rose as she suddenly pulled down your panties. “se-mi, please, i want you,” you whimper as she pushes you onto a nearby couch and removes the rest of your clothes off. “good thing they won’t be back until next morning probably, you slut,” se-mi said with a chuckle as she undressed herself and got out her black strap-on from her bag.

you spread your thighs open, lifting your legs, your knees resting on your chest as she adjusted the strap-on on herself. your hand reaches over to touch your own wetness, rubbing your folds and inner folds with your fingers. “fucking impatient whore it hasn’t even been two minutes and you’re already touching yourself,” she glanced at you, the tip of her strap-on pointing straight at you, her tits small but perky with her nipples decorated with a pair of piercings. rumor says it that she even got two piercings on her clit according to nam-gyu after he caught her masturbating in the backstage after she got black out drunk from her last performance.

“oh fuck i want to fuck you in doggy style so i can watch your ass jiggle,” she said as she demanded you to get in position. your back arched, making your two holes almost fully exposed for her. she lined up the tip of her cock against your pussy hole, giving it a few flicks here and there before sinking it inside of you. she got a hold of your hips for stability and her thrusts started off slow, since your hole was to tight for her big cock. “mmm..” se-mi thrusted deeper in your hole.

sooner or later, her thrusts turned into rough pounds, your moans turned into screams and squeals and you knew for a fact that your cervix was going to be stretched out and bruised for the next 6 months after this. you gripped onto the couch’s fabric for dear life but she kept pulling you back in. “fucking slut, this is what you wanted huh?” she gripped onto your hair. “your favourite artist to fuck you raw and deep right?” she mumbled through her words as her pounding became fierce and violent.

“too bad i can’t feel your warm squelching pussy tighten around my fat plastic cock,” she said, giving your ass a sharp smack. just as soon as you were about to cum, thanos flings the door open to find his band mate brutally dicking down her fan on the couch with her strap-on.

se-mi pulls out, making your pussy make a loud wet squelching sound and runs up to thanos to punch his nose, almost breaking the fuck out of it. “keep out, fucking dipshit,” se-mi kicks him out and makes sure to lock the door well.

meanwhile, you were laying on your belly, your pussy still spurting out fluids from your release.

“baby, i’m sorry i went too rough,” se-mi said as she pulled out her camera to snap a few pictures of your front side, getting perfect shots of your breasts and pussy on display. as soon as she was done having a little photoshoot with you, she tossed the camera aside and put her strap-on back up as an idea went into her mind. “come ride me princess, it doesn’t matter if i fucked up your energy, i want to watch your tits bounce as you bounce up and down on my strap,” she suggested as she laid down on the couch, watching you crawl over to her to sink yourself down onto it.

“the fucking couch is going to snap because of you, you filthy slut!” se-mi yelled out as you were busy riding and bouncing on her cock, her hands gripping your ass. she began thrusting upwards to match with your riding. “baby, i’m going to cum..” you slow down, gently grinding on her while her strap is still deep inside your cervix.

overtime, this became a habit between you and semi. of course the other band members know but they wouldn’t say a word of it since they heard how badly thanos got punched in the nose for simply walking in on the two of you by accident.

today se-mi was going to record a song for her album in the recording room and she invited you over. of course, you knew her intentions but you wondered how you two were going to have sex in a place without a comfortable spot like a bed or a couch.

“i’m here~” you say playfully as you make your way inside the recording room. it was just se-mi in the room alone and she was setting up her recording set up.

“c’mere princess,” se-mi signaled you over to her lap. you sat on her lap, giving her a few kisses on her lips and cheeks. “look, get under the table and eat my pussy while i finish this, alright?” se-mi pulled down her pants and watched you get under the table. your eyes looked up at her then at her pussy. you moaned at the sight of her clit piercings and the pink tint the inside of her pussy had.

as soon as she started recording and singing, you began tickling her clit with the tip of your tongue, making its way down to where the hole of her pussy was. you darted your tongue inside the hole, licking and sucking away the wetness away from it. she sounded heavenly while singing and you could hear her struggling by moaning in between her words.

your hands maintained her thighs spread, her pussy got more pink and sensitive as you sucked hard on it. you gave it light kisses as you were eating her out, her moans getting louder and more obvious.

she came all over your mouth.

“good girl, now c’mere,” she lifted you up with your lips and chin glossy with her juices. she turned you around to smack your ass repeatedly. “you like that, doll? you like being smacked like that after eating me out like that?” she continued her spanking as you kept nodding hoping she would calm down.

“i want to marry you one day,” she stopped what she was doing to make you look at her in her eyes.

you could probably guess how that night went with her after she was done in the recording room with you.

[lovelizards]

Two men, taller than her by half, put her on her knees and held her there. Arms shaking, try as she might, she couldn't escape from their grip.

Lord Daniel stood in front of her, looking generally displeased to even be in such a shabby little shack as he adjusted his gloves; Mabel wasn't sure where in the town this was, but she assumed it was near the walls, far away from anyone who might stumble upon them.

"What kind of fools are you that it takes two able-bodied men to restrain a wisp like this? I've been waiting an hour," the man complained, brushing a lock of blond hair from his eyes.

But there was no response from the men holding her. She tried to jerk her hands free, but only managed to wrench her shoulder.

The men had snatched her quickly and quietly, pulling her bodily off of a side path and quieting her with a heavy hand over her mouth while they wrestled her away.

"You prick!" Mabel shouted, "Not even a Count's son can do this! I'll report you, for this, for everything -! "

Lord Daniel scowled at her. He took a few steps nearer, hesitated, and flicked his eyes to the men holding her. She wasn't sure what the look meant until she was struck with an open hand on the back of her head.

Her cry was more in surprise than in pain; her father also had a heavy hand, it's not like she wasn't used to being hit. But a cold sort of dread was crackling in her stomach.

"Do you always get your men to do your dirty work?" she asked, shoulders shaking from the strain of her forced kneel, "What's wrong? Don't want your lily-soft hands to callous?"

The man's jaw set in anger, and he looked away from her with something akin to furious disbelief as he slowly, carefully, removed his doeskin gloves.

Mabel's breathing quickened, she tried to let her neck and jaw relax, and watched him to anticipate it. He reeled back and slapped her hard in the face, catching the corner of her eye with his nails and making her tear up.

"You disrespectful little bitch," Lord Daniel sighed, looking at his reddening hand with an air of disinterest, "don't you know how meaningless your life is to me? Less than a dog, less than insect. For what you've said to me I could easily get you imprisoned, or worse..."

Mabel blinked the tears out of her eyes, her teeth clenched and brows furrowed - there was a fire licking at the inside of her chest, burning unbearably hot.

"Then you must be pretty bored," she shot back, "if you're putting this much effort into dealing with an insect."

"Oh, I agree," Lord Daniel said, grabbing her cheeks and tilting her head back to see her glaring green eyes through her fringe, "are you flattered?"

Mabel caught her breath, then jerked her head out of his grasp and sank her teeth into the side of his hand.

Lord Daniel squealed in pain, beating her head with a fist and shrieking for his men to get Mabel off him. She didn't let go until she started getting light-headed and dizzy from being hit, and spat blood - a mix of hers and his - onto the ground.

"Try sickened, you pig!" She finally answered, giving him a grin full of bloody teeth.

"Augh - ! Y - you little wretch! I will kill you - I will -!"

He danced around in pain for a long few moments, holding his injured hand like he'd never been hurt once in his life before. It was a rather pathetic sight, no wonder none of the common folk took him seriously.

His threats were serious enough though.

Once he was done with his tantrum, he spun back around to face her.

"Teach her a lesson," he growled, tears in his eyes, "I need her alive, but other than that...do as you like."

"You coward! Beat me yourself!" she screamed. How could she bring complaints against two anonymous men? It had to be him!

How she longed to tear that long tail of blond hair right out of his head! Next time she got a chance to bite him, she'd make sure to take something away with her!

"My Lord..." one of the men said, his tone hesitant.

Lord Daniel threw his hair back, a blind fury in his eyes.

"Oh, what now? Is stealing her away and striking her once the lengths of your loyalty?"

"It's just...she's a girl, and -"

"You - ! For gods sake, fine!"

Daniel stalked towards her, and in the space of a breath had ripped her bodice open. Almost involuntarily, the scream she let out was feral and piercing. But Daniel called for her to be silenced, and she was, as he stripped her outer layers away - a leering, manic grin pulling at his lips - until she was left trembling in nothing but her chemise.

"There!" Lord Daniel said, out of breath and admiring his own work, "You see? With short hair and that figure - might as well be a boy. Are you happy? Now do your duty!"

There was only another moment of hesitation, and then Mabel was thrown to the floor. A booted foot caught her in the ribs, another stomped on her ankle. One of the strong hands grabbed a fist-full of her hair and yanked her up, only to hit her again in the face - causing hot blood to pour from her nose and her lip to split.

She couldn't form a single thought. She couldn't even manage to form words. There was only pain, that rained down on her from all angles, as she was man-handled and beaten in that dingy, dark shed near the edge of town.

After a time, though Mabel didn't know how long, everything went still and quiet. Though her body screamed in pain with every breath she took, with every beat of her heart, the men stopped attacking her.

She lay battered on the floor, one eye mostly swollen shut, her dress ruined with dirt, and listened - barely conscious - to the shuffling of feet, and far away muttering voices. It was only two. Lord Daniel must have left at some point. Too much of a coward to see the deed done...

"Nnngh..." she tried to shift her body, but her right arm burst with a pain so intense it rendered her vision white for a few seconds.

Somewhere, a door opened, flooding the shack with late afternoon light, and then closed and left her in the dark again.

Tears fell unbidden from her eyes, and there was no stopping them, but it wasn't like she could stay laying there on the floor until she died.

She tested the other arm, and though it moved haltingly, it worked.

With a careful prodding, much like she did when examining her birds for injuries, she felt her injured arm for anything that might have badly broken. But the bones seemed to be intact despite the pain.

"Don't be a baby..." she tried to mumble, though her cheeks made the words a garbled mess at best, "don't be...a baby...get up..."

Groaning, flinching every second at another new wave of pain, her entire body trembling, Mabel slowly pulled herself up onto her knees, and then onto her feet.

They'd left her outer clothes and head kerchief in the dirt nearby. She had to get dressed. She couldn't be seen in public dressed like a prostitute - if anyone recognized her, she would shame Lady Iris.

And though re-dressing herself was excruciating, that thought far outweighed the pain.

The walk home was slow. She had no money for a carriage, and doubted greatly if anyone in their right mind would take her as a customer looking like the worst of disheveled beggars on the street.

The ankle that had been stomped on twinged with every step, she could feel the glancing eyes of passers-by, but that didn't matter to her. She walked slowly, painfully, step-by-step, until finally as the sun was setting she came to the servant's entrance of the Baron's manor.

A couple of young laundry girls who were taking down dry bed linens saw her approaching, screamed, and ran inside. Thankfully, they sent out the head maid, a stern but fair old woman called Anne.

"M - Mabel! Oh - oh Mabel, by the gods what happened to you?!"

"You can't let...Lady Iris know..." she mumbled, though she wasn't sure if Anne understood her, "she'll worry...she'll..."

"M...Mabel...?"

She turned around, and saw Lady Iris, in her outdoor clothes and walking with a couple of her maids. She must have been out for a walk.

Well, Mabel had never been lucky.

"Oh, L - " she cleared her throat, "My Lady!"

She put on a big grin, though she knew there was no fooling her friend, and shrugged her shoulders, "I got into a scrap with some other girls in town! Would you - believe it?"

Of course she wouldn't. But she had to at least make a show of being okay. At least then, maybe Iris wouldn't worry as much. She wouldn't feel as guilty.

"Mabel...oh, Mabel -" Iris rushed to her, reaching her arms out, and Mabel thought for just a moment that her friend, and her deepest love since childhood, might kiss her right there.

And then she thought: "oh, someone is tilting the ground under my feet," as her body pitched forward, and she lost consciousness.

『 Previous / Next 』

[yazzwrites6962]

please write more of your niragi fanfic!! i really loved it and im addicted to your writing!! 💗💗

Redemption ♡ Suguru Niragi ♡ Part Three

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Suguru Niragi x Fem!Reader ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Part Two: Here

Author's Note: UNEDITED! Not much Niragi is mentioned in this chapter. It's mostly you, Chishiya, and Kuina bonding! I know this chapter is pretty short. I promise I'm working on more! I should have the next chapter for this out pretty soon. I don't own any characters or images!

Genre: A little angsty

Summary: After your last game, you're left swirling with the pain of betrayal. Luckily, you have Kuina and Chishiya to help you recover.

Word Count: 1845

Warnings: OOC Chishiya and Niragi, talk of injury, blood, and betrayal

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

Trust and loyalty. The two most difficult things to find in the Borderlands. In a world of betrayal and death, rarely anyone was stupid enough to whole-heartedly believe in the good of another person.

Except, you did.

You trusted Niragi, for some silly reason. Despite all the warnings, you had faith in him. When you called out to him for help, you believed he would he there to give it to you.

Then you watched him walk away. As your blood ran down your arms and you were so close to making it out, you watched him turn his back on you. It was only a matter of seconds now before death would find you. It was sickening. The pit in your stomach felt bottomless.

You couldn't just wait to die. You had to keep going. You were so close, even without Niragi's help. Maybe you could still make it. You pushed yourself further, the barbs on your rope digging into your soft flesh as you reached for safety.

You couldn't see. You couldn't breathe. There was only pain. The sting of betrayal made it no easier to endure, but somehow, you endured. You clawed your way to the top, finally completing the deathly challenge, without the help of the man you thought was your friend.

You hazily found your key and pushed through your door. Your mind was foggy, and you couldn't remember much. You could only hear the sound of your heart beating in your ears.

Then, your vision went black. Yet, your heartbeat endured.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

You felt your soft sheets beneath you as an echo of hushed voices surrounded you. Your body ached, and your head felt heavier than usual. Your eyes peeked open, and you were thankful to find yourself in your room with Chishiya and Kuina by your sides.

"Y/N!" Kuina cried, seeing your eyes open a crack. You attempt to sit up, putting pressure on your injured palm. The pain is excruciating, and you fall onto your back once more. Kuina gingerly helps you sit up, positioning you against the headboard.

You're covered in bandages. Around your chest, neck, arms, and legs. You feel almost like a mummy. Memories come flooding back to you. Hazy, but painful memories.

"Shinji! Did he make it out?" You suddenly recall the young boy who you had grown fond of during your game. Kuina and Chishiya give you a confused look, as if not really knowing who you're referring to. Of course, they wouldn't know. The Beach is filled with hundreds of people.

"What happened during your game?" Chishiya inquired calmly. "You lost a great amount of blood. Luckily your injuries were nowhere near fatal."

"Did you patch me up?" You study the wrappings around your body. They look clean. Professionally done. Chishiya shrugged, as if not really wanting to answer your question. "My game... It had three stages. I got these from the last one. I had to... I had to climb a rope that resembled barbed wire. I tried to wrap up my hands, but it didn't work exactly."

"I'm just glad you made it out." Kuina sighed. How did you make it out? You don't remember much. Only the pain and frustration you felt as you hoisted yourself up the rope. You vaguely recall the key, and your bloody fumbling hands pushing through your door seconds before the game was over.

"Niragi. He made it out, right?" You ask, your voice sounding weak. He left you there, struggling. Why? Why would he betray you like that? Just when you'd thought you were getting through to a softer side of him.

"He's the one who brought you back." Chishiya spoke up. "He carried you back to your room while you were unconscious." Kuina nodded, leaning forward to add on to Chishiya's statements.

"Chishiya and I noticed him hauling you up the stairs. We followed you guys all the way back here. We thought maybe he was going to... Do something to you, but no. He just left you here with us."

You hum, not revealing what had happened between you and Niragi during the game. Silence filled the room as your mind raced. Chishiya stared at you quizzically.

"Are you hungry?" Kuina stood, picking up a plate from the table in the corner of your room. "You missed breakfast, and lunch. We didn't want to wake you, but we brought you food."

"Thanks." You muttered softly, taking the plate from her. The food was cold, but you didn't have much of an appetite anyway. "You guys are great friends. I appreciate you." Kuina uncomfortably shifted, glancing at Chishiya. He stood; his hands hidden in his pockets as usual.

"We will give you space to rest." He said, removing a hand from his pocket to wave Kuina towards the door. "Should you need anything, you know where to find us."

With that, the pair exit your room. You're alone, with a pile of cold food and a sore body. You now understand that you can't fully trust Niragi, as much as you wanted to.

Yet, you would've never guessed the conversation going on right outside your door.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

"Chishiya..." Kuina whined as your door shut. She didn't need to elaborate further on her thoughts. Chishiya already knew what she was going to say.

"We do not need to discuss this here." He began walking down the hallway, Kuina trailing behind him. She twiddled with her fingers nervously.

"She's nice. She's a good person. We can find someone else. Anyone else. You pick anyone else, and I promise I'll just go along with it." She pleaded.

"Kuina." Chishiya scolded, glaring at her. "We can explore your proposition. Just not here." Kuina's face lit up, now knowing that Chishiya was considering using someone else for the plan.

"Thank you." She sighed with relief, recalling your limp, fragile body being carried back to your room. She simply couldn't betray your trust like that.

"I don't consider it for your sake." Chishiya replied shortly. Kuina's better judgement told her not to question what this meant.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

It felt like you'd been couped up in your room for an eternity. Kuina would bring you meals, and Chishiya often checked on your bandages. Fortunately, he claimed you were "healing nicely". All you had to pass the time were a couple of books and a sketchpad.

"I'm bored." You complained while shoveling food into your mouth. "I feel fine enough to walk and all. Can't I just go out and enjoy the sun by the pool?"

"Swallow your food before you begin speaking." Chishiya rolled his eyes. "Your wounds aren't entirely healed. While you are making good progress, it could still get infected. Imagine that disgusting pool water making its way into your bandages."

"The things people do in that pool are disgusting." Kuina sticks her tongue out, slumping beside you on the bed. "I can't even imagine what kind of germs are in that water. Does anyone even clean the pool?"

"Tatta does." Chishiya adds. In the past few days, he has grown slightly more talkative than usual. You find it pleasant to see Chishiya opening up more.

"I don't have to go by the pool. Just on a walk, or something." You finally swallow your mouthful of food. "I promise I'll be careful, and I won't run into any trouble."

"Why do you try to appeal to us?" Chishiya raises an eyebrow. "I'm not your keeper. I only advise that you remain here and rest. Yet, you are an adult who can make her own decisions."

"I don't know." You giggle, shifting yourself so your legs hang off the edge of the bed. "I guess you two are kind of like... Parents? Mama y Papa, y'know?" Chishiya and Kuina flash disgusted looks at one another.

"Okay, Y/N. Maybe you do need some fresh air. You're losing it in here." Kuina chuckles, helping you out of bed. Had they not found painkillers for you, you would be in agony.

Chishiya left the room as Kuina helped you get dressed. As much as you tried to hide it under your cardigan, your bandages still showed through your bathing suit.

"You still look beautiful." Kuina smiled, giving you a gentle hug and trying to be mindful of your injuries. "Now c'mon. We'll accompany you on your little outing."

"We will?" Chishiya groaned from outside the door. You laugh as you turn the knob, coming face to face with the blonde. He looks as though he would rather be anywhere, but out on a walk with you and Kuina.

"We will." Kuina huffed, interlocking her arm with yours carefully. "Don't be such a party pooper. Y/N is still hurt. Besides, it'll probably do you some good too."

Chishiya shrugs, shifting his hands comfortably in his pockets, before following you and Kuina down the hall. The stairs were a bit tricky, but you felt incredibly accomplished making your way all the way down to the ground floor.

As you make it through the doors of the building, you took a deep breath. The windows in your room didn't really open, so it was nice to feel fresh air filling your lungs.

You and Kuina dominated the conversation, chatting about life as the three of you walked through the front garden. Chishiya listened and followed along from behind.

"I'm still worried." You say, watching people pass you by. "I haven't seen Shinji at all. You know, the boy from my game?" Your eyes drop to the ground as you continue. "I... I don't think he had the time to make it. He was so... Young?"

"I'm sorry, Y/N." Kuina comforts. "It's cruel. What happens in these games... It's not fair. It's like all the best people are getting hurt and killed."

"I was unconscious the whole way back here. I don't know what happened. I don't know if he made it back to the car or anything." You sigh, carefully rotating your body as you and Kuina turn a corner.

"Ask." Chishiya finally spoke for the first time during the walk. Both you and Kuina turn your head to face him, questioningly. "Ask if he made it back to the car, if it's weighing so heavy on you."

"Who would I even ask?" You scoff. Your mind wandered back to who was in the car with you. The only person you really knew was Niragi, and you were terrified at the thought of facing him again.

"Him?" Chishiya motioned to somewhere ahead of you. You turned your head forward again, facing the direction he was pointing your attention towards.

Several meters away, stood Niragi. The one person you didn't want to see. His gun was slung over his shoulder, and he stared directly back at you.

Did he remember how he watched you struggle? Did he see the blood running down your arms as you reached to him for help? What was he thinking when he turned away from you?

And what was he thinking as he began to walk towards you now?

[shipstorms]

I love your writing! You should absolutely write a stalag sequel to Heart on a Spit!! 🧛

wheeeee thank you!! only for you:

"Why haven't you busted out?" 

Gale just looks at him, as if that's answer enough. And it probably is, for the brief moments that Bucky is able to focus his vision before it falls apart into a blurry double again. Even in the dim lighting, Gale is paper-white, liable to wash away under a storm. His eyes are glassy marbles punched into too big sockets. If Bucky thought he looked bad in Algeria, this is something else entirely. 

"What've you been eating?" he prods.

"Rodents, mostly. I'll piggyback off the dogs if I'm lucky." Before Bucky can ask further, Gale says, "Sometimes they get out of control, attack the guards unprovoked. They keep the injured in an infirmary a couple hundred yards away. Not too well lit on that side."

"Oh," Bucky says, tense, but also relieved. There are two Gales now, superimposed along their edges like merging spotlights. "Well. Hey. I might as well be good for something for once." 

He cocks his chin. The walls spin with the positional change and he ends up almost tipping all the way down onto the mattress. "Here," he says, steadying himself with a clench of his stomach. Uses a misshapen finger to gesture toward his eye. 

He's been mired in the delirium of pain for days, but it ebbs at the sound of footsteps coming toward him. A cold hand runs gentle through his hair and snags on a knot in the middle of his scalp, bringing the injury back to life with a zinging throb. 

"Bucky," Gale rasps. Up close, he looks even worse. A bleached copy of a copy, a starving ghost of a fox hovering at the edge of the woods. 

"Buck." Bucky swallows. "You look like shit." 

"Not looking too much better yourself."

Bucky huffs out a straight-mouthed laugh. His face boils with pain anyway. "Still the best thing I've ever seen," he says, and that cold hand traces over his cheek. 

"You still you under all this?"

"I've got no goddamn clue. Better clean me up and find out," Bucky tells him. He closes his eyes. "It probably tastes like a morgue, but that's all I can spare right now."

Gale murmurs, "You always taste good, John," much closer this time.

Bucky hears his mouth open, a low smack of unsticking saliva, and then Gale's tongue is licking over his cheekbone in a broad, steady drag, hand bracing against the back of his skull for support. He licks again, and again, and again at an unchanging pace, but the puffs of his breaths slowly quicken until he's panting against Bucky's forehead. 

Bucky blindly reaches up and hooks his fingers on Gale's forearm. His coat is hanging open, shielding them both from the chill of the room. They could be back at Randolph, or Thorpe Abbotts, or inside a cave someplace. Anywhere instead of a fucking stalag. 

"How's it."

"Gourmet," Gale says dryly, but the hand holding Bucky's head upright is trembling. He licks over crusted eyelashes, then nudges along the curve underneath his brow, tongue muscled into a sharp point. 

"Better than Kraut wounds, I hope." 

"I'd drain you right now if I could," Gale breathes, and Bucky lets out a low grunt. 

[labyrynth]

i did actually try watching the thousand autumns animation a while back but i could never tell what was going on bc the translation was. not good. i couldn’t take it seriously bc they kept using “Evil Gang” unironically

[neixins]

[ID: panels from chapter 256 of “yona of the dawn”. in the first panel, zeno stands up; his neck and robes are heavily stained with blood, and some of it is splattered on his cheek; he says, “i tried all i could to die…”. in the next panel, the phonomime “drip” is written twice in the corner, indicating that it’s coming from somewhere out of frame but zeno has yet to react to it. in the following panel, the dripping continues and he turns towards it. in the next panel, which is taking up most of the page, he stares at the source of the sound in horror. the final panel shows the roof of the palace; the sky above it is dark and cloudy, with sunlight beginning to break through the clouds. end ID.]

the dripping from out of frame, the slow turn, the hard cut……horror writers WISH they had a shoujo mangaka’s skill to invoke pure unadulterated dread

[quietwingsinthesky]

🌹:O

:3c

Lucifer doesn't care how the labcoats say it works; he knows there's no such thing as a clean break from a drift the minute the plug is pulled. Instead, Michael goes from a second consciousness beside his own to being dragged out of Lucifer the further Lucifer gets from him, both of them gripping tight to the connection until it slips, until it snaps, with a violent recoil that knocks Lucifer's brain out of alignment and reminds his legs that they don't work. His next step falls too fast, too heavily, and refuses to take his weight. It's only Michael, now only a voice outside of Lucifer's head yelling his name, catching him from behind that allows Lucifer to collapse to the floor with his dignity intact.

[ambrosiagourmet]

I've seen pieces from this extra comic before, but never read the full thing until today. And holy shit does it hammer home just how much the story is about class.

Multiple times, when food comes up in this comic, it’s also in context of money:

I've seen this last panel on the right brought up before in context of like, dungeon meshi's relationship with fat and eating, but in the full context of the comic it really hits how much adventuring directly consumes bodies for money.

As much as this has been part of the story the whole time, showcased as early chapters 19 and 20...

It never fully hit me before how often adventuring comes down to having no other way to make money but to throw yourself into death repeatedly. To be used, whether it’s by individual selfish people (like the resurrection group that is happy to try and get Kabru's group to kill each other to get extra gold from them in chapter 32), or by the greater cog of the Dungeon Economy in general.

Which, to be clear, is all too often how things work in the real world, too. So many jobs burn through the health and lives of workers. Dungeon Meshi just makes it literal in a new way: by making the healing and resurrection, a core part to the adventuring loop, directly use fat, muscle, and energy from the body being healed.

Imagine Amazon, but if you got injured at work, they could literally burn up some of your body to get you back to working sooner. And that was seen as an advantage of the job.

And then you have Laios, thinking about eating monsters:

Not just because he likes monsters a lot. But because it would help. He says something similar in the actual manga too, during the chapter discussing his dream with the Winged Lion

Laios wants to be able to make a home for Falin. He wants to give her a place where she never has to eat alone. And when he gets a party, he wants to give them a way to eat well. And when he runs a country, well…

He wants to ensure that everyone has enough to eat.

Food is political. Food ties into class, and money. What is deemed "proper" to eat, what is a luxury, what is crass… so much of it comes down to money.

Being judged for eating what's available, when what is “proper” isn't affordable, is already a thing that happens. People forced into work that consumes their energy is already a thing that happens.

Dungeon Meshi has a lot of fantastical elements, but boy is its examination of food and class very real.

[chuluoyi]

𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐄𝐗𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄

- sylus x reader

you and your lover are hailed and feared, but who would have guessed that behind closed doors, both of you are just that — lovers?

genre/warnings: very suggestive, making out, fluff, comfort, period cramps, assassin!reader (not l&ds mc), loosely based on sylus' secret times: midnight warmth & exclusive care!

note: very self-indulgent bye pls don't look at me :') this fic is a companion to assassin!reader series (strictly (un)professional and jealousy incarnate)

“Who’s ther— lord! Missus! What happened to you!?”

On a rainy night, you staggered into the base, drenched and covered with dirt. Your steps were unsteady as you made your way through the front door, and the first person to see you, Luke, was so shocked by the sight that he rushed to your side.

“Kieran! Call Boss!” he shouted to his twin, who immediately sprinted off to find him, steadying you. “Are you injured?”

“No,” you hissed, wincing as you clutched your abdomen. “Let go, I’m fine—” But before you could finish, you missed a step and—

—fell into Luke's arms.

In that very instant, Luke genuinely feared for his life. He squeaked and stammered, incoherent sounds escaping him, because oh lord— if Boss sees me ever touching his woman—

“What are you doing?”

And there came his nightmare. Sylus’ deep voice cut through like a blade, marking the arrival of doomsday itself.

“B-Boss! It isn’t what it looks like!” Luke quivered, desperately trying to explain himself.

However, Sylus paid him no mind and exhaled sharply, immediately moving over to pull you out of Luke’s grasp. “Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine!” you insisted, pulling away from him while staggering. “I’m not wounded or anything. Just... I just need a bath, please.”

Sylus eyed you from top to bottom. You had just been out for a reconnaissance, and yet you looked as though you had been through a tornado and back. Disheveled, your dress was smeared with mud and dirt, and even grime clung to your hair.

“Did you fall into a sewer or something?” he questioned, and he knew he had hit a nerve when you shot him a glare.

But you spared him no answer, walking away with labored breaths and a hand pressed against your lower belly. It was clear you were in pain, and the sight tugged at him as he followed you.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, his concern growing. “What hurts?”

“You don’t have to fuss over me—” your breath hitched, feeling exhausted, and ashamed all at once. “Just my period, nothing much,” you murmured in a quieter voice so the twins wouldn’t hear.

As you reached the stairs to the second floor, you felt like collapsing. Did you really have to climb these stairs, too?

As if reading your mind, Sylus let out a sigh, but you nearly squealed when he lifted you into his arms.

“You’ll get dirty!” you rebuked, even as he took large strides up the stairs. “Sylus!”

“Just hold onto me.” He shot you a pointed look. “You can’t even walk without gasping for air, and you still want to climb the stairs? You’ll end up rolling and breaking your back.”

Despite your protests, your lover immediately brought you to his bathroom and sat you down on the sink. He turned the hot water on and then faced you.

“So? What did you get yourself into?” he asked, his red eyes narrowing in dissatisfaction. “You were fine, and you didn’t face anyone.”

You pressed your eyes shut, leaning against the wall, resigned to explain. “Fell into mud. Totally idiotic, I know, but my cramps started right before, so…”

“I don’t recall you experiencing this before. What brought this on?”

You met his gaze indignantly, retorting, “Well, a certain someone banged me so hard last night, and I got my period right after.”

It was quite unexpected, but still answered his concern. So, to that, Sylus snorted and tousled your hair, a playful twinkle in his eyes. “Ah, sorry, I guess?”

You pursed your lips, aware of how unapologetic he was. He smirked and added, “Now that I’m dirty too... I suppose we’ll have to take a bath together.”

“Are you mad? Do you want to get covered in my blood?”

He shrugged nonchalantly. “Why not—”

“No,” you retorted firmly, clearly irked. “You take the bath after me, and that’s final.”

. . .

“Put your arm around my neck,” Sylus commanded when you both emerged from the bath and already dressed in silk bathrobes. You complied, and he swiftly lifted you into a princess carry, bringing you to the bed.

Despite yourself, your heart fluttered at his action. He set you down gently, and the moment your back met the soft surface, you relished it and let out an involuntary moan. “Ahh...”

Your voice was soft and sultry, though tinged with a hint of pain. Sylus placed his hand gently on your face. “Your cheeks are warm,” he noted. “And you still look pale.”

"Mmm," you mumbled, suddenly the total fatigue catching up to you as you leaned into his touch. Seeing you so pliant like this seemed to flip a switch inside him, and he immediately settled next to you and placed his huge hand on your lower belly, pressing down on it.

“What are you doing?” you frowned.

“I’m giving you a massage,” he replied. “Stop squirming. I’m trying to pamper you here.”

“You don’t have to…”

“My woman is in enough pain that she doesn’t talk back to me. It’s feels off.”

“...actually, you suck. You’re too rough.”

Taking your whine into account, he adjusted his touch, softening his pressure. "How is it? Better?"

You didn’t immediately reply, indulging in the warm sensation, letting out a sigh as you squeezed your eyes shut. “Mm... Yeah, it feels good now. Don’t stop…”

There was something quietly erotic about watching you, usually so defiant, surrender to his touch like this. Sylus felt a deep, protective satisfaction as he continued his gentle ministrations—

But after a while...

Before he could stop himself, he leaned in, pulling you closer as he buried his face in your shoulder, inhaling deeply, savoring the scent of the bath foam you had just shared. “Mmm…”

You were caught off-guard and shivered at his breath tickling your skin, eyes fluttering open. “Sylus…” you murmured, a mix of protest and surprise in your voice.

But he didn’t pull away, his lips lingering against your skin, his gaze fixed on your bare neck, whispering, “Just relax. I’ve got you.”

Then, when he suddenly nibbled on your neck, you jolted awake. The gentle bite on your sensitive skin sent another shiver down your spine, stirring a mix of warmth that made your pulse race.

But he didn't stop there, as Sylus trailed your neck with a series of kisses and wet sucks, his breath hot against your skin. Soon, the only sounds filling the room were his quiet sighs and the soft noises of his lips as he continued to bite and pepper kisses on your skin, over and over.

“Ngh…” Each touch left you almost breathless, and the heat between you growing with every passing moment, making your toes curl and you moan softly by his ear.

“Hold me,” he gruffly whispered, and as if bewitched, you clung to his shoulders. He let out a husky chuckle. “Not too hard, or you won't be able to sleep later.”

“And whose fault would that be?” you quipped, entangling your legs with his, savoring the warmth of his body against yours.

“I’ve spoiled you rotten, haven’t I... sweetie?” he murmured amidst kisses, his tone laced with intrigue and his burgundy eyes flashing with a glint. “Just let me have my fill for a while.”

If you had a mirror, you’d see the hickeys forming on your neck, but instead of fighting him, you pulled him closer, letting out breathy moans freely and massaging his scalp as if urging him to go further.

“Naughty vixen—you are,” Sylus rasped deliciously in your ear, thick with desire and restraint as his grip on you tightened. “Tempting me, knowing full well I can’t do anything to you…”

A low giggle slipped from your lips. “Unfortunately… I learn from the best.”

Hard to get, snarky, taunting... You were the bane of his existence, and yet Sylus wouldn't have it another way. Your defiance and teasing only deepened his affection, making every challenge you presented feel like an irresistible part of what drew him to you.

He knew when his patience was on the verge of snapping, so to end it, he sucked hard on your shoulder one last time, making sure to leave another mark there. The squelching sound reverberated through both of you, before he pulled away and planted a firm kiss on your forehead, a gesture of both dominance and fondness for you.

“Now sleep,” he grounded out. “Your body has been through enough.”

“Mngh...” you whined, curling into him in contentment, your head nestled against his toned chest where you could feel his strong, steady heartbeat. “Really unfair...”

“You're going to feel better soon...” he sighed, one hand soothing your back and the other resting on your waist. “And as soon as you do...”

A wicked grin curved his lips.

“I'll pick up where I left off.”

[fandom-with-no-hope]

Rp with my friend rant but. How are you supposed to feel when one of the Mc of the pokemon roleplay you've spent the past two years doing dies. What.

[nereidprinc3ss]

be my angel

in which BAU fem!reader was injured on the job, but is refusing painkillers at the hospital. spencer thinks he knows why.

fluff (+a little angst) warnings/tags: established relationship, hospital stuff, reader got beat up by an unsub, discussions of spencer's past addiction, mentions of period cramps, reader ends up being administered some sort of painkiller a/n: another draft i found in my literal hundreds of pages of abandoned wips and fixed up cause it's cute, I hope you like!!!

Spencer is tearing through the hospital. They all keep saying you’re going to be okay, but what does that even mean? Why is nobody telling him anything? He’s not even sure he heard what the orderly at the front desk said, but his feet are carrying him with a strident purpose through the winding white halls, so he has to assume he at least subconsciously knows where he’s going. 

Finally he spots Penelope, a beacon in her candy-colored clothing, speaking to a doctor in hushed tones. Penelope sees him approaching and turns away from the doctor, looking harried and exhausted. 

“Is she okay? What happened?” Spencer demands, before either of the others can say a word. 

“She’s okay,” the doctor assures. “She was beat up pretty bad—concussion, broken ribs, some bruising that looks worse than it is. There was a clean shot through her arm, but—” 

His blood runs cold. Nobody told him you were shot. Why had nobody told him you were shot? 

“I need to see her.” 

The doctor frowns, glancing between the two agents. 

“I’m sorry, are you her spouse?” 

“Yes. No, not yet, I just—I need to see her, please. Now.” 

“Sir, unless she—” 

“Just let him see her!” Penelope practically yells. “She wants him here, believe me.”  

The doctor clenches her jaw and scribbles something on her clipboard. 

“Okay. Maybe you can try to convince her to accept some painkillers.” 

Spencer’s frown deepens. 

“She’s refusing pain management?” 

“We gave her as much ibuprofen as we could, but she refused anything stronger than that. She has to be in a lot of pain right now, and there’s no background of addiction.” 

“I’ll talk to her,” Spencer says, already twisting the silver door handle. He has a sneaking suspicion as to why you denied pain treatment, and it makes him feel incredibly guilty. More than he already did, after this entire debacle. 

The sight of you, bloodied and bruised and obviously suffering has his heart splintering right down the middle. Whatever meager semblance of a smile he can scrounge up and offer is reflected back to him on you—which only makes him feel worse. As always, you’re putting on a brave face. 

“Hey,” Spencer says quietly as he closes the door behind him. 

“Hi,” you croak. “How do I look?” 

He approaches, sitting on the edge of the bed and pushing your hair away from your face. 

“How do you feel? The doctor told me you wouldn’t accept pain medication,” he murmurs. 

You sniff. 

“I feel okay. Did she tell you it’s not as bad as it looks?” 

But your voice is so small, so wavery and weak, that he knows you’re lying. 

“Sweetheart...” 

You’ve been holding it together since the unsub beat you nearly unconscious. You held it together as he ran away, even got a couple shots in before he turned around and returned fire. You held it together while you sat against the dirty truck, bleeding out, not sure if your team was coming, and you held it together in the ambulance, and for the past thirty minutes in this hospital bed. But all it takes is one gentle word from Spencer, with that concerned, solicitous look in his eye, and the floodgates are opening. Tears spring up in your eyes and begin silently falling down your dirtied cheeks. 

“It’s okay!” you attempt to reassure him, affecting cheeriness even through the tears. “It doesn’t hurt. I’m fine!” 

He says your name soft and low and he tries his best to keep his tone even though he is liable to burst into tears or start yelling at someone (not you) at any minute.  

“I know that’s not true. You have broken ribs and a gunshot wound. I know how badly it hurts to breathe and how it feels every time you move your arm. That is too much damage for over-the-counter anti-inflammatories. You need real analgesics.” 

“I don’t,” you whisper. Your teary eyes make his whole body ache. He squeezes your hand—the one that’s not connected to the wounded arm. 

“Because of me?” You stare at him blankly, as if you’re shocked he was able to put two and two together. “I promise you don’t need to worry about that.” 

You sniffle. 

“But what if—what if they give me the drugs and I get all weird and it’s, it’s like... triggering for you, or something?” 

“It’s been a really long time since I’ve worried about that. I’d rather see you a little tired and out of it than in extreme pain and trying to pretend you’re not. You getting the pain relief you need in a medical emergency is not going to make me relapse.” 

“But I really think I could go without,” you begin, voice already tightening around a cry. “I’ve—I’ve had period cramps that were worse than this.” 

Despite himself, he chuckles. Goes back to stroking your hair. 

The laughter fades quickly. All the pain you’re in is so evident in your eyes. The dissociative glassiness, the tension around them, the bloodshot quality—he's seen it many times before, and he hates it on you. 

“Will you please tell them you’re ready to take something? They won’t give you Dilaudid. It’s too strong. They’ll give you something that I’d have no interest in anyway.” 

“Not funny,” you whisper. 

He ignores this. 

“Will you let me call the doctor back in?” 

You take a deep, shuddering breath—or at least, you try to, before you’re loosing a sharp squeak that deteriorates into a little sob. The ribs. 

Spencer doesn’t bother asking again, just gets up and begins to walk away as efficiently as his legs will carry him. You need painkillers and he thinks it might be fastest to just fetch the doctor or a nurse from the hallway. 

“Wait,” you plead.  

He stops. Reminds himself that you need him right now—not his medical opinions. Spencer turns back around and approaches again, crouching by your bedside this time. 

“What, honey?” 

“I don’t...” 

You trail off, overcome by something like fear in the width and shine and nervous dart of your eyes. Spencer knows, everybody at the BAU knows, that showing fear to a serial killer will get you killed that much quicker. During your time alone with the unsub, which is a can of worms Spencer literally cannot psychologically open right now, you had to put on your bravest face. Even while you were being beaten within an inch of your life. Even when you thought you were going to die, alone, and that your team—that Spencer—wasn't coming back for you. Because that’s the kind of thing you have to do to cope when you’re at rock bottom. But you were terrified. Petrified. That doesn’t just go away—and Spencer knows it’ll be bumping against the surface until it finds a way out.  

He has to remember that just because you look unafraid and you act unafraid doesn’t mean you aren’t. 

“You were so brave,” he manages after he’s sure he can say it without incident, swiping moisture from your cheek. “You did everything exactly right.” 

“I know,” you whisper, chin trembling. Spencer knows you, and he knows this kind of trauma well enough to know that you’re thinking, I did everything exactly right, and it wasn’t enough. I did everything exactly right and this is what I have to show for it. 

“But nobody needs you to act like it wasn’t hard, okay? You don’t need to pretend like it doesn’t hurt. You were so, so brave, angel. You don’t have to be brave anymore.” 

Your eyes squeeze shut, sending a new wash of tears over your tacky cheeks. A few moments pass. You say nothing. He hopes you’re not going to hide away inside yourself like he did. 

“Will you please, please, let me get the doctor?” 

At least this time you don’t immediately say no. 

“Will you come right back?” 

“Of course.” 

Finally, you nod your hesitant assent, and Spencer presses a careful kiss to your forehead. 

A few minutes later, the doctor—who was shocked that Spencer was able to so quickly change your very made-up mind—is back, and so is Spencer. It only takes a moment for them to determine the best course of action for you and soon the fist around his heart is loosening its grip as he watches some of the agony melting from your eyes. 

“Better?” he murmurs as the nurse who’d administered the drugs leaves, fanning his thumb over the underside of your wrist. You nod, already appearing sleepy. 

“Can you lie down with me?” 

He smiles at the way your words slip against each other, simply relieved that you’re able to relax and no longer in extreme pain. 

“Hospital beds aren’t rated for two people.” 

“Spencer.” 

It’s enough for him to climb onto the bed—not that he was ever going to deny you what you wanted to begin with. The fit isn’t exactly perfect—he's a bit too long and combined the two of you are just slightly too wide—but with some finagling it’s comfortable enough. Spencer has slipped his arm underneath you and your head is on his shoulder and he’s so glad to have you in his arms and so grateful that you’re okay he does something almost like praying in his head as he kisses your hair. 

“Hey. Ask me about my bruises.” 

“Why? Do they still hurt?” 

“You should see the other guy.” 

It’s dumb and it doesn’t make sense because you didn’t bother waiting for him to actually set the joke up—but he smiles dryly nonetheless. 

“Can you please give me... I don’t know, 36 hours before you start making jokes about almost dying?” 

“Clock starts now.” 

“Thank you.” He feels your lips curve into a half-conscious smile against his neck. It’s a wonderful feeling. “How are your ribs? Breathing feels okay?” 

“Mhm. Love breathing.” 

“Mhm. And your arm?” 

“Like I got shot.” 

“Well, that’s pretty much unavoidable. But not as bad as before, right?” 

“Right. Spencer?” 

“What, my love?” 

A little pleased puff of air warms his shoulder. He carefully rubs your hip. 

“Will you tell me how brave I was again?” 

He takes a silent, very deep breath.  

“You were incredibly brave. And smart, too. I’m really proud of you for how you handled that situation. I’m so sorry you had to go through that, but I don’t think anyone could have handled it better. Especially when you chose to stay put by the truck, instead of chase him. I know that wasn’t what you wanted to do, but it was the right choice.” 

“I thought you guys maybe weren’t coming,” you murmur, no hint of sadness in your smushed, flat voice—like you’re barely awake. “I waited half an hour and I thought you weren’t gonna find me.” 

“Angel, I will always find you. We didn’t stop looking even once, as soon as we noticed you were gone. I’m just sorry I wasn’t with Emily and Rossi when they got to you.” 

“’Nelope told me... she told me you got really angry and scary.” 

He stares at the ceiling and considers this. 

“I could see... how what I was feeling would be interpreted that way. I was pretty angry. But not at Penelope or any of them. I was mostly just scared.” 

“I’m sorry I scared you,” you whisper. “And I’m sorry if I made you mad.” 

“You did not. I wasn’t mad at you. And it’s not your fault that I got scared. You were just trying to do your job. None of this is your fault.” 

“She also said that you said fuck like... three times.” 

“Mm... doesn’t sound like me,” he evades. You giggle, and the sound is more a relief than any drug he could take.

“No, seriously, I’m so mad I missed it. I love hearing you swear. Tell me what you said—and you have to cause I’m all messed up so I get whatever I want.” 

He sighs in mock annoyance. 

“Well, she’s wrong. I only said fuck once. I used fucking as an intensifier twice.” 

You hum. 

“Sexy.” 

“Alright,” Spencer laughs, flushing as he moves his hand to your shoulder. “Go to sleep before I tell them to up your dosage, weirdo.” 

[xazse]

okay hear me out…. reverse hybrid au… with tigerhybrid!sukuna bc nobody else can handle him because he’s so aggressive and overbearing .. so reader is their last resort zoo caretaker and they’re is shocked at how it’s like reader has a leash on tigerhybrid!sukuna 😚

I’VE GOT IT?

Synopsis: You’re head of a completely different department so why are you being asked to help with an odd situation?

Warnings: Female!reader + Mean!Sukuna + cringe tropes (sorry) + Hybrid!Sukuna: ears and a tail + heat + cumming inside + doggy + NOTPROOFREAD!!! + obsessed!Sukuna

Pairings: Tigerhybrid!Sukuna x female!Reader

Notes: I’m really working to improve my writing for you guys!! Esp my non-English speakers

“Miss please you know we would never beg like this if it wasn’t urgent.”

“I don’t specialize in that field, how many times must I tell you?”

You were getting sick of these scientists coming to you more often than normal, there’s three right now begging for you to take on a case that you didn’t want to do.

“Sukuna is out of control, he’s already injured five of our best, now they refuse to work with him”

“And I should be the sixth?” You say with a quirk of your brow.

They all stop and stare at one another, you have a good ass point what makes them think that you’ll be the antidote for their beast they decided to keep.

“Like I said, my stance on this won’t change.”

Another voice in the doorway of your office speaks up: “I’ll upgrade your pay and have you transferred up.”

Your ears perk up at this offer, to go even further where you are right now means business and a fuck ton of money. On the flip side it means facing whatever they’re against but you’ve always been a little greedy for money so you oblige.

The scientists made sure to throw you in the thinnest garments: “to let him know you don’t have anything on you.” As they put it.

They also had told you no sudden movements and to talk with him in a calm manner, show him you aren’t afraid and find out what’s been making him so angry lately. Easy peasy except your life is on the line!

You disregard any negative thoughts of death and make your way into the place where they keep their hybrids, it’s like little apartments where they can do as they please in return for information on their biology, as far as you know they love it here. You’ve once met puppy!hybrids Satoru and Suguru they were very sweet men, needy but sweet.

Your first step into the apartment is met with a strong smell, a smell of something primal if that even has a smell. It’s warm.

You start poking around his place, checking his fridge and looking for anything out of the ordinary, nothing seems amiss though. It’s not until you come up to one of the doors and hear slight noises. You press your ear up closer making the noise more clearer: whining it sounds like whining.

Could he perhaps be In pain? You knock three times and announce you’re coming in. The door clicks and you start slowly pulling it open. You see the man in all his glory resting upon his bed, arms wrapped around his pillow and an unreadable expression.

Sukuna is big, he’s a big man compared to all the other hybrids, he’s brimming with pure muscle. Does he workout in here? Your thoughts are interrupted by slight growling: he’s warning you. Step any close r and he will have no choice but to harm you.

You pay him no mind, instead you step fully in and start looking around without a care in the world.

“You’re making trouble- why is that?” You say while looking through his dresser.

“You’re being extremely nosy, leave before I kill you.” He threatens harshly.

“If you harm me I’ll have you sent somewhere else, I know where you come from and I’m assuming you don’t want to go back.”

The room goes eerily silent like he’s making a choice, he opens his mouth to speak but a groan accidentally slips past his lips.

Oh… the big oaf is in heat, and top scientists couldn’t tell or try to track his cycle?

“You in heat big guy?”

“No-“

“Such a liar, I’m not here to make fun of you, I’m here to make sure you get proper help.”

“The only way I’ll get proper help is if I fuck someone.” So damn blunt you think to yourself.

He continues speaking: “I think you know they won’t allow that though.”

“Would you like some toys? I can request that for you.”

“Useless.”

You let out the loudest sigh and plop down on his fluffy bed. Bending your head in his direction you see he’s not looking at your face but your body, eyes fully trained on your pert nipples because of the cold.

You allow the poor suffering hybrid to mount you, putting a good bit of his weight on your back you can feel the outline of his thick meaty cock resting near your cunt and ass.

He’s hard, fully hard and probably has been for a while: you feel almost a little bad.

Sukuna doesn’t waste anytime grinding down against you, it feels so fucking good, his cock is accepting anything even if it’s the bare minimum. Everytime he meets your ass he whines, such a needy tiger you coo.

He’s ignoring all the dirty little comments you send his way too focused on the only good sensation he’s felt for a while, his hand doesn’t compare to your rounded ass. You reach between your legs and pull his shorts down, letting his cock bob free for a minute before he’s pushing up against you again.

He’s producing so much precum that youCan feel it through your silky garments.

“Smells so good… really good.” “Mhhhphmmm-“ he’s now being open with his groans too focused on the feeling of his tip prodding your clothed pussy. His swishing tail is within your eyesight, you grab it and rub it for extra stimulation.

You help him a little bit by bouncing your ass against him. He places his head in the crook of your neck and starts nibbling on your neck, you can feel how sharp his damn teeth are and pray to yourself he isn’t going to bite you: killing you in the process.

He doesn’t do any of that instead he just lightly bites, using no strength at all. While he’s busying tearing up your neck you slip your panties off, grabbing his fat length and teasing your wet hole. Just feeling it in your hand has your body burning up in arousal it’s been a while since you’ve had a cock, especially a cock his size.

You slowly start inching it in, the stretch is so damn unbearable and uncomfortable. When he feels what you’re doing he starts moving his hips already. An impatient thing such as him isn’t gonna wait. He gets about halfway in and you feel a thick liquid fill you, did this beast just cum? Already?

“Nhhhnn.. fuck-..” this doesn’t deter him because he’s sitting fully on his knees and pulling you flush against him, his entire length snuggly inside your pussy. He doesn’t wait to bounce you back on him, you can’t comprehend anything properly so shocked by how he just made you take every inch of him.

Your lashes flutter closed as he ruts into you like you’re the damn sex tox he’s been given, one he wasn’t gonna take care of properly. His hold on you is extremely tight so you can do nothing but take him fully, even when your walls threaten to constrict around him he pushes through it and keeps fucking Into you.

You allow him, allow him to thrust like a wild animal, mercilessly pulling all the way out of you just to slam back in. Drool is seeping down your neck where he’s latched on in droves. He’s far too gone, pussy has never felt this good.

By the end Sukuna is still rutting uselessly, he’s not even hard anymore he just can’t stop leaking cum nor has that good euphoric feeling stopped. He’s made a mess of your pussy, his cum and yours seeping down your thighs and onto his ruined sheets.

Hes licking at your face and you can hear a deep rumbling in his chest, this big hybrid is purring in content. Any attempt to move from under him is completely halted, he won’t let you move even an inch.

He begins sucking on your nipples, they’re definitely gonna be sore later but now it seems he just wants comfort and you fully give that to him. Rubbing his ears and whispering sweet nothings to him.

After that incident Sukuna is completely attached, he constantly whines for you to come see him including the scientists also calling for you to calm him down. He won’t let you have a moments peace.

Even when you tell him you’re extremely busy he’s having none of it, if he wants you to laze around and do nothing but rub him or praise/coddle him he completely expects it!

As his mate you’re meant to be with him all the time you should be grateful he’s even letting you leave the nest.

You were left fully shocked when he first called you his mate but the scientists explained that you were his first and now you are his last, they had all praised you because testing was made easier if you were there.

They’re all surprised to see him completely like mush under you, like one time when it was time for his blood to be drawn he made you come and sit in his lap while he had it taken. The doctors said he seemed to be completely smitten with you, in love and so possessive.