#she will just eat you and dry her tears with your dead body | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

freshbakedbreadstick · 2 months ago

Text

The Physicalities of Grief - Season 2 Arcane Viktor x F!Reader

Season 2 Arcane Viktor x F!Reader

Summary (SPOILERS): It's hard to grieve someone when their not really gone.

Warnings: All my fics are 18+ regardless of the content. HEAVY SPOILERS OF SEASON 2 ACT 1 OF ARCANE!! BE WARNED! Reader is described as having a vagina and uses she/her pronouns. Reader’s backstory is kept vague but is mentioned to be from Zaun (the Undercity), worked with Jayce and Viktor, and was childhood friends with Viktor. Mentions of masturbation, vaginal fingering, dirty talk, heavy grief, angst (not a breadstick fanfic if there isn’t angst), bad coping with grief and emotions, grief horniness LMAO, spoilers, brief fear that someone broke into your place, slightly improper use of his powers (not really use tho more like hinting at it), brief mention of vomiting but not in detail (!!), this is basically shameless PWLP (porn with little plot) that i'm using to cope ok?

Word Count: 3.3k

A/N: Unfortunately i am using Arcane Season 2 as a form of escapism bc i am not ok (context , i live in the US and i am a woman of color , , , , enough said ) anyways i am a Viktor stan and i love him SO SO SO much anyways AS PROMISE HERE IT IS ! LMAO i can't wait for act 2 to come out ! ! ! ! ENJOY ! (awhhh doesnt he look so normal in season 1 ?)

It feels like all you have ever known was this feeling.

This feeling of… swelling and crashing waves of anger and sadness. Of overwhelming crying screams, of bubbling tears that blind you, of aching emptiness that makes your joints feel sore and body retch after every meal.

Mel had to remind you that you were grieving, but you could see the way Jayce looked at her, shaking his head softly when she spoke.

“He isn’t dead,” he would whisper once Mel would leave, but you could only weakly utter “Then why does it feel like he is?”

He never knew what to say to that, just stepping back, face falling.

It was ridiculous at this point, the way he looked at you with… almost pity. You were sick of it. Everytime he came to you, updating you on the latest findings while you laid in bed, pathetically. Feeling like a waste as he went from spending hours in the lab, working beside his friend’s body encased in who knows what, to desperately fighting you to get you to eat something, anything.

You felt like a burden, like a waste of a mind and body that was once so ambitious and passionate, moving around the lab to help with whatever you could get your hands on.

“I’m useless,” you would whisper to yourself in the cover of dark, chest empty and eyes red and dry.

But his words… his words hurt the most.

“Please eat something, anything!” He cried, trying to ever so gently pin your arms down as he lifted a small cup of soup to your face.

“No Jayce, no! Stop it!” You cried, barely able to flail against him.

“I need you to eat something, please! You can't keep going on like this!” His voice cracked.

You pushed his hands away, successfully hitting the cup and making it clatter and crash to the floor.

Both of you flinched, pausing mid movement to hear the sound of the porcelain shattering into millions of pieces.

Stillness for a few seconds. Peace from him for a few seconds.

Until his voice brought you back.

“...Viktor would've wanted you to eat… to keep going…”

It made your eyes burn, chest tightening, throat closing. It made your heart race, limbs suddenly energized for the first time in days, feeling ready to run marathons.

Did Viktor feel this way the first time he touched the hexcore?

You shoved him away with surprising strength, making Jayce yell and fall to the ground, his arm moving up to shield himself.

Leaping from bed, you yanked the sheets around yourself, heavy and dark fabric covering the weakness of your flesh from sight.

“You have no idea what he would've wanted!” Your throat burned as you screamed, lips twisted into a sneer as you glared at him on the floor.

He couldn't even bear to look at you. Coward.

Paled hands moved to claw at your bedside table, yanking the drawers open. You yanked things out, throwing them to find it. Where is it?

Where is it? Where is it? Where is it?

Then you felt it. Soft beneath your fingertips, the embroidered ‘V' he asked you to add onto it scratching your skin ever so slightly. It made you pause, mind rushing and mouth rushing even faster.

“Better yet, you knew what he wanted and still went against him!” Your voice quivered as you yelled at Jayce.

Jayce gasped softly, head jerking back.

“W-what friend you are,” You stuttered, tears rushing back into your eyes and making your voice sound watery. You felt stupid.

Jayce’s breath hitched, his mouth opened to respond but you were too quick. You grasped the red fabric into your hands and rushed off, snatching your shoes on before you ran out the door with a choked sob, Jayce yelling out your name as you did so.

Your body ached as you ran, running into corners and slamming into walls you didn’t sense as you rounded hallways. Your body feverish, only shivered when you stepped out into the chill of the quiet darkness of the supposed city of progress.

Your lungs ached as you ran, panting and gasping between cries. You ran and ran, stumbling and nearly collapsing as you made your descent.

Down, down, down… to the city you knew too well.

Back home.

You tucked the blanket closer as you rounded corners with ease, effortless as you hopped over piles of trash and twisted into darkened alleys, avoiding the sounds of twisted laughs and growls.

You nearly ran into the door of your little old home, scratching at your neck to yank the necklace into the light of the partially broken street lamps. A trembling hand shoved the key into the lock, tugging yourself to press your cheek against the cold door with a hiss.

It was hard to tell what you were doing in the darkness of the studio, staggering as you closed the door and moved around, getting bruises as you ran into old furniture and beat up tables. You cried out, howling in pain as you made your way toward your bed, hidden in the back of the room.

One hand reached out, feeling the end of the furniture with heavy pants, eyes wide and barely able to make it out. But it was there, sturdy and reliable, the scent of comfort, of home, reaching your nose as you collapsed onto it, bursting out in wails.

The bed creaked as your body shook, the utter power of your lament echoing in the darkness of the room, red fabric clutched to your chest.

You could smell him, smell the mixture of coffee, toast, and the unmistakable scent of the lab.

You cried louder, rattling the windows with each sound as you held the fabric he used to tie his tie, nose buried into it. But it did nothing to muffle you, nothing to withhold the sounds of your cries.

It felt like days passed before you passed out, falling unconscious without a second thought.

But when you finally woke, it was dark again.

Body aching, you sat up in with a heaved breath, wincing at the pain that echoed throughout your being. It was hardly bearable, making you sigh as you realized that you finally did it, you pushed yourself too much and rendered yourself alone, sleeping the day away.

You felt like a ghost skirting around your home, blanket clutched around your form and hand clutching the red fabric to your chest with paled knuckles. Feet made soft sounds as you stomped, using all your strength to collapse onto the sink, holding onto the ledge as you stretched, one hand opening the tap and lips greedily sucking in the water that came down.

You knew that you would probably regret this later, Zaun’s tap water was not meant to be drunk without extra precautions made to ensure it was clean. Afterall, this wasn’t Piltover, where you could drink fresh water from the tap without worry.

You remembered the way your mother would have to boil it over the fire as a child, wincing as you drank the warm water after running circles around your childhood best friend, who would laugh and watch with a sad glint in his eyes as you did so. All you wanted was fresh, cold water after sweating, throat scratchy and knees scraped with a wonder only a child could possess.

It made you want to cry again, as your familiar scratchy throat was soothed by the cool water, if only temporarily.

Your hand barely had the strength to push the faucet shut, slipping onto your knees soon after.

The fabric pressed against your nose, darkening under the tears that slipped and hit it on its way down your cheeks. Burnt toast… coffee… metal. Burnt toast, coffee, metal. Burnt toast, coffee, metal, Jayce. Burnt toast, coffee, metal, Jayce, you.

You crawled back into bed, grunting and groaning as your limbs screamed, desperate for you to stop and give up. ‘Forget it, you're alone now’ they said, desperate for a break.

“Just… let me get to the bed… please,” you heard your gravely voice whisper out, begging yourself.

“...I’ll quit once I get to bed… please…”

‘Fine,’ you told yourself.

Crumpled there on the sheets, you encased yourself with the blanket like a body laid to rest among the flowers, eyes closed and breathing getting slower. You could hear chatter from just beyond the walls, the sound of people chattering before rushing off, the occasional argument either followed by commotion or silence. It soothed you like a lullaby, as it soothed all children of the undercity.

But as a fight breaks out nearby, harsh voices echoing the sounds of punches, you squeezed your eyes shut and tried desperately to think of something else.

Like the day he convinced you to go with him to Piltover.

“Come with me,” he whispered, hand extended out to you, amber eyes glinting with hope for what this opportunity would bring.

“Oh Viktor,” you whispered aloud, voice breaking just like in the memory.

“Please,” he said, brows creasing.

“But will I fit in? Will they accept me?” you murmured, holding your own hand, looking between his hand to his eyes.

“They accept me,” he breathed.

“That’s because you are a scientist.”

He scoffed, “Do not reduce yourself to utility, regardless of where you come from, you deserve to live amongst them.”

“But they will stare at me like… like I'm trash.”

“Nothing we aren’t used to already… besides… I need you there.”

Your breath hitched.

“You do?” you whispered to yourself, hand clutched to the fabric rising to press it against your nose again.

Eyelids softened as you thought of the way he smiled, chuckling softly at your bewildered face, smooth voice like melody that made goosebumps spread across your skin as he said, “Of course I need you…”

You didn’t even realize your free hand had inched its way down your torso until your fingertips hit the waistband of your bottoms, making you freeze up, eyes snapping open to stare into the inky darkness.

You panted, chest rising and falling.

“No…” you whispered, “N-no, no I… I can't.”

“Of course you can,” his voice echoed in your brain, smooth as a ray of sunlight, “Whatever it is you're worried about, I'll help you.”

Finally, your hand fell into his. He pulled you close, so close, that his eyes flickering onto yours felt like it had replaced the sun and the moon, “Come with me.”

Trembling, your hand pushed under the waistband and under your undergarments, fingers tracing over your mound before dipping down to the unabashed wetness of your core.

You gasped, chest tightening.

“No,” you whispered into the fabric.

Burnt toast, coffee, metal.

Your fingers glided down, hips rising and legs spreading, skin so so hot under your touch. With a smooth swipe, the wetness gathered itself on your fingertip, moving to ever so gently press against your throbbing clit.

It made you whine, voice muffled by the fabric held tight against your hand.

“No please…” you whispered once more, your resolve slipping as you thought of those amber eyes and how they glistened when he spoke about his work.

“C-can’t…” you just couldn’t bear it.

This was your childhood friend you were imagining, your friend who cared so deeply about you that he was willing to take you with him when he got a new opportunity in Piltover. Your friend who sacrificed his health for the sake of finding new tech to help people like you, who weren’t given a fair chance in the undercity. Your friend whose gaze would transfix on you as he explained what he was doing, voice tinged with an eagerness that made him whine when he thought your mind was straying from his words.

“Darling, are you listening to me?” he would say as you played with some geared models he set out for you to see.

“Yes Viktor, I swear!”

He would always chuckle and nod, either continuing to explain or instead staying silent, moving to stand behind you.

Your knees and mouth fell open, eyes fluttering shut.

Burnt toast, coffee, metal.

Heavy pants filled the silence of the room.

You could almost feel the way his hand would slide over yours as you played with the model, long nimble fingers gliding over your skin.

You would gasp, hand stilling until he began to move it, guiding it with his own.“Here, let me show you… This is how you use it,” he would murmur, warm breath hitting your skin. It was so hard to suppress the shiver he gave you, no longer able to focus on the way he would turn the model the other way, guiding your fingers to press against a gear, turning it in a slow circle to get it working.

Your breathing hitched, hand moving in the way he showed you how.

His hand would speed up, moving away to let you try it. The gears then began to move on their own, prompting you to move your own hand away, watching the model with an excited smile.

The swelling pleasure in your belly grew, making the smooth movements of your hand become erratic, unable to keep a steady pace.

“V-Viktor,” you breathed, hips bucking into the air.

You could imagine it, the way he spoke so smoothly to you, an air of calm to it as if he was speaking to a frightened animal, “Yes, my darling?”

“L-like this?” you croaked, fingers dipping to press against your sopping hole, feeling it drool onto your fingers.

“Yes, exactly like that… you're doing so good…”

Your breaths grew more and more ragged, shivering as you chased your climax. It was so close, making your head fall back onto the sheets, fabric clutched to your nose, using it to run it up and down your body.

Burnt toast, coffee, metal.

“S-so… close…” you whispered.

Then you heard it.

A whisper.

You stilled, eyes snapping open and wide in terror.

You didn’t breathe, you didn’t move.

‘Go to her’, it whispered once more, a feminine voice you couldn’t make out, too low for you to distinguish.

But you could hear staggered steps, moving.

You knew you were hidden from view, allowing you an advantage, but this person was moving toward you, slowly but steadily.

You were frozen in place.

Did they come to rob you? Had you even locked your front door when you came in?

But you had no time to think, you were sitting here unarmed and vulnerable.

Gathering yourself, you sat up in bed, careful to avoid making noise as you peaked above the furniture that hid you, seeing a cloaked figure moving in the dark. You saw nothing, just them staggering. They didn’t seem to be here to steal, brushing past your things without a second glance.

You prayed to anyone who could hear you that it was just some weary soul needing to rest.

But right before you looked away, you saw it.

You saw the glow.

A faint blue-purple glow of footsteps that led toward you.

You swallowed, curling back and into yourself as your eyes trailed the faint humming glow of these footsteps, the way they led right to the foot of your bed.

The cloaked and hooded figure approached, moving around what hid you to stand at the edge of your bed, looking right at you.

Then you smelled it.

Burnt toast, coffee, metal, and… something… more.

Your breath hitched as a bony hand reached up and out, moving toward your face.

You flinched, squeezing your eyes shut as it moved. You didn't see the way it hesitated, pausing right before the warmth of your cheek.

“My darling…” They whispered, voice rumbling in a way that made your eyes snap open and body instantly and unconsciously sag, “Am i that scary?”

You gasped, shaking as you made out the iridescent eyes that traced over your sunken cheeks and eyes with dark bags underneath.

“Oh my darling…” he murmured, fingertips finally pressing against your cheeks.

He was cold, but somehow warmth thrummed through him like… machinery.

His thumb traced underneath your eye, gently, “Have you been suffering because… of me?”

You said nothing, pinned to the spot underneath his gaze.

You tried to say something, but nothing came out. Your mouth only opened and closed, silence emitting from it instead.

His gaze swept over you, making a shiver go down your spine as you sat there. His gaze stilled, eyes widening ever so slightly as he followed your hands. He paused and, after a beat of silence, he spoke up.

“Here… let me show you.”

Burnt toast, coffee, metal, and something indescribable.

The hand cupping your cheeks trailed down to your jaw, tilting it upward to look at him as he shifted to sit in front of you, the overwhelming scent of Him invading your senses.

His other hand moved, gently wrapping itself around your wrist, feeling the warmth of your skin underneath his own. He then slid in, over and down underneath the waistband of your clothes and to your soaked fingers.

You could only stare into the pools of opal that peered into your soul.

A gasp wormed its way out of your mouth as his fingers pressed against you, index tracing around your throbbing clit to your clenching hole. He moved in circles, teasing you by pressing his longest finger just against your entrance before pulling back, moving to press a tiny bit deeper with every movement.

You felt yourself instantly relax, unable to help yourself as the familiar face of Viktor stared at you, eyes softening as he saw the panic melt away.

“V-Viktor i…” you breathed, “You… d-”

“I'm supposed to be dead… I know…” he whispered.

His finger pressed in, making you groan softly as it moved against your warm walls, carefully pressing to find that spongy bit inside of you. He was always so calculated, even now as his gaze focused on your face, tracking every miniscule movement like the way your pupils dilated when you saw him, the way your breathing picked up when his thumb brushed against your clit, and the way your lips parted when his fingers curled.

“But I'm here now, my darling… you don't have to worry anymore… I just want you to come back with me.”

His voice made your eyes struggle to keep open, soft moans filling the once empty room. You were drunk off him, drunk off the way his fingers moved so deliciously deliberate, stimulating you in multiple ways and making you melt.

“Viktor…?” you sighed, barely registering what he said.

“Yes?” Viktor whispered, leaning to press his forehead against your own.

It sent a shockwave of pleasure through your body, tingling with a purple glow over your skin.

“I…” gasping for air was all you could do, the overwhelming sensation flowing through your veins as his thumb pressed against your clit, fingers curling in and out of you. You were so close again.

“More?” He murmured, voice soft.

Your eyes could barely hold his gaze, “N-need you…”

“Like I always needed you?”

You moaned out, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you shook, the pleasure reaching its peak.

“Cum for me… come with me.” he murmured, lips brushing against your own.

He swallowed your moans as you cried out his name, body shaking. His hand on your jaw held you in place, continuing to move his fingers in you and on your clit, your hand wrapped around his wrist as he did so, the other still clutched onto his red tie.

Pure, white, hot, pleasure stole your vision and voice, making you see visions of a future where you and your people would never have to suffer anymore, not with someone like Viktor to lead them.

As you came down, body heaving and shaking, he carefully moved his hand off your core before wrapping your weak body with his lapis blue cloak, pressing you against him. Your head lolled, slotting against his neck, smelling the scent of burnt toast, coffee, metal, and something… something otherworldly.

“Come with me.” He whispered, “I need you.”

“I will.” You whispered, this time not hesitating.

#arcane #viktor x reader arcane #viktor x reader #arcane season 2 #arcane league of legends #viktor arcane #viktor league of legends #viktor lol #arcane viktor #arcane s2 #arcane season two

438 notes · View notes

unnameablethings · 20 days ago

Text

Dead Ringer

Word count: 4k Rating: M for Mature Category: M?/F

Content Notes/Tags: Offscreen/implied domestic violence, non-graphic sex, misogyny, gun violence, horror themes.

Summary: Gemma is the isolated and miserable housewife of a man who hunts monsters. She doesn't know much about her husband's work, but she knows enough about her husband that when he comes home warm and smiling and kind, she knows that whoever or whatever this is - it's not him. -

There were things of John's which Gemma kept well out of. The long road trips he would vanish off on for weeks at a time with no notice, the hush-hush phone calls he would take out in the backyard late at night, pacing along the fence line, gesturing, body contorting in tension. The dreams he would wake up screaming from. The liquor cabinet. The trunk of his car, full of rock salt and guns and iron.

Gemma had become accustomed to the art of incuriosity. John went out to kill the things that went bump in the night, and he was doing it all to keep her and the baby safe. He told her that, sometimes, when he'd made her cry. Said it like a threat, like a bite, like it was supposed to mean she wasn't allowed to cry. It wasn't her job to know what he did out there, only to be patient with him when he came back colder and meaner and drunker every time.

Gemma was washing up at the kitchen sink when she heard the car pull into the driveway. There had been a time in their marriage when she would have run to the door to greet him, to kiss him hello, to run her hands over his arms and his body to check that he was safe, he was whole, he was well. Today, her stomach clenched. I thought he would be gone longer, she thought.

But the baby was sleeping, and the dishes weren't done. She kept her head down and scrubbed stubborn fragments of baked cheese off the bottom of the casserole dish and practiced a welcoming face to greet him with when he came in the door, tried to figure out a way to tell him to keep quiet without him taking it wrong.

The keys rattled in the lock. The door opened. Not with a great burst of force, but something slower and wearier. Gemma turned to him and smiled, a practiced curve that she worked to make reach her eyes. When John came in, he had his bag slung over his shoulder in the same way he always did, but he paused in the doorway and looked at her for a moment in a way he hadn't since they got married. He smiled, warm and tired, and said, "I've really missed you, Gem."

It hurt her in a way she hadn't expected. She hadn't missed him at all - she was a horrible wife - he really did love her - she couldn't believe she'd ever thought I wish I knew how to leave him. (She had seen the guns in the trunk. She had heard the ragged desperation when he said he'd kill anything at all in the world that wanted to take her away from him. Her parents had been killed by the same vampire he'd saved her from, and then he'd taken her a thousand miles away to put her alone in a town where she didn't know anyone.)

"I missed you too, baby," she said, and her voice shook. The tears in her eyes must have been taken as tears of love or sincerity, because he came to her and cupped her cheek and leaned in. She braced for his mouth, rough and possessive on hers. The kiss landed warm and dry and gentle on the center of her forehead.

"God, I'm starving," John said, and turned to look in the fridge. Gemma's stomach clenched again, waiting. She'd made a big batch of baked ziti for her to eat all week, but that wasn't the sort of thing John liked when he came back from a trip. He wanted meat and potatoes, a real solid stick-to-your-bones sort of meal.

"There's nothing made up," Gemma said, quickly. "Just pasta - I'm so sorry, I thought you'd be gone another couple of days. I can make something for you real quick, here, let me just-"

"That's alright, sweetheart," John said, putting out a steadying hand. "I've got it." And he got out the eggs and the tail end of the cheese block and the spices and half an onion and made himself an omelet. Every movement was slow and careful, like he was having to think about where his hands would end up. He must be real tired. He seemed a lot better after he'd devoured the whole mess with a healthy dash of hot sauce, more animated, but the whole time quiet and civil. He smiled at her again when she took the dish to wash, and thanked her.

"I could sleep for a week," he said, and went upstairs and unpacked his own bag and showered and put himself to bed. Gemma stayed downstairs for a while, lingering over the dishes, wiping down the stove. When she opened the fridge, she stared at the line of cold bottles of beer she kept ready for him. None were missing.

This wasn't John.

Obviously.

Something had stolen his face and his voice and was living in her house where the baby was and sleeping in her bed and she was going to have to go upstairs and lie down next to it.

It didn't even know how to be John so it probably didn't even know she had noticed anything was wrong.

It ate an omelet, she thought, staring at the drying dishes. It's not going to eat the baby. If she just played along, she could probably keep herself and the baby safe until the real John got back, or - or until she could figure out what else to do.

She went upstairs and got ready for bed, quietly, trying not to wake up the sleeping impostor. Then, slowly, she got into bed beside it, and lay awake in silence, listening to it breathe. It didn't even snore like John had, just breathed, long and slow and even. Its body was relaxed next to hers, loose and warm.

At some point she must have fallen asleep, because she woke up to John missing from beside her, and the sound of the baby crying. The room was dark, disorienting. Her heart jumped hard in her chest, adrenaline jolting her out of bed before she remembered that it wasn't even John. She went for the baby's room without a plan or a thought, just the terror-fueled desire to stop it from doing whatever it was planning to do.

The door to the nursery was open. The impostor stood inside it over the crib, holding the baby. It spoke low and quiet in John's voice. "Shhh, Danny-boy, I know you're hungry," it said. "Hush now, don't wake your mama, she didn't sleep well. Let's go see if we can rustle up a bottle, alright, baby?"

"John, give me Danny," Gemma said. Her voice shook. Danny twisted in the impostor's arms when he heard her, crying, his arms outstretched.

The impostor handed him over. His smile was apologetic. "I thought I'd let you sleep in a bit. Poor little guy won't settle for anything but his mama."

The statement made her cold, for a moment, but there was no rage behind it, no bitterness. It wasn't John. "He loves his daddy, he just knows who can give him his breakfast," Gemma said, taking Danny into her arms. Danny's crying redoubled as soon as he was safe in her arms, his little wet face turned to press into her shirt and ooze on her, mouth gumming at her ravenously. She turned away from the impostor before she pulled her shirt up to let Danny latch onto her breast. This wasn't her husband, and it was not for him to see. "You can go back to bed."

"You sure?" the impostor asked. "There any bottles made up for if he needs em, later?"

Gemma shook her head. "Really, it's alright, you had a long drive," she said, keeping her head down.

"Alright," the impostor said, after a moment, and pressed a kiss to the nape of her neck that made all the skin on her back crawl.

As soon as the door shut behind the impostor, she took an enormous, shaky breath. She did not cry. She knew a lot of ways not to cry, now. She stared dry-eyed at the floor as Danny nursed. He was safe. She would keep him safe. "It's okay, baby," she whispered to Danny, over and over. "I've got you. You're going to be okay."

Somehow she got through the day, and the next day, and the next. She kissed back when the impostor kissed her good morning, and was horribly grateful he never pushed it beyond that. The kiss was bad enough. It felt like cheating on John at the same time as it was John. He'd be furious when he got back.

If he ever did come back. The longer the days went on, the less it felt like there was anyone coming to save her.

And with every day that went by, the impostor kept being… not particularly dangerous. It spoke calmly and kindly to her and to Danny, always. It went out and mowed the lawn. It took out the trash. It played with Danny. It did the laundry. It went to the grocery store for her, and when it came back from that it had stopped somewhere along the way and gotten her sunflowers.

When it handed her the sunflowers, she touched the petals with bewilderment. "These are my favorite," she said, and couldn't help but let her voice rise in a question at the end. John had gotten her roses before, when he had really fucked up and didn't know how to apologize. Roses and roses and roses, but never sunflowers.

"I know," said the impostor. "You wear that apron with the sunflower on the pocket all the time." Then, his voice changing, half concerned, half laughing, "Oh, honey, are you crying? Come here," and somehow she found herself collapsed into the impostor's arms, sobbing inconsolably. He didn't even smell like John. The impostor smelled like leather and laundry detergent and a little like sweat, but nothing at all like rust and stress and whiskey.

"I love them," she sobbed, and the impostor kissed the top of her head and murmured "I love you," into her hair. She didn't ask him where he had gotten the money. She'd never asked John about the money, either. It came from somewhere, and that was all that mattered.

The sunflowers went in a vase on the table, and she cooked impostor-John dinner that night from the groceries he'd bought. He liked protein - meat and eggs and cheese - the same way John had. Impostor-John also liked spicy food, though, and more salt than John had liked, and bitter-flavored things like brussels sprouts and asparagus which John wouldn't have even touched. Danny got a mushed-up brussels sprout to try at the table, and impostor-John laughed with real humor as Danny screwed up his little face at it and announced his immense displeasure and then hurled it onto the ground.

"You'll grow into it, kiddo," impostor-John reassured him, and bent down and wiped up the mess with a paper towel before Gemma could even get up.

By the time the sunflowers wilted, Gemma knew John was never coming back. The day she realized it, she took a long shower and used the sound of the water to cover up her crying. When the hot water ran out, she felt hollowed-out and worn through, but clean. Like her lungs had been full of tar for years and she'd only just remembered what it was like to breathe air. It wasn't John, and nothing would ever be the same, but she would survive this, the same way she'd survived everything else. And she and Danny would be alright. Maybe even safe.

When she came out, her husband was sitting on the bed with the lamp on. He wasn't even pretending to read a book, just waiting up for her. His expression was tired and gentle. Concerned, like maybe he'd heard her cry. The look shifted to surprise as Gemma let her towel drop and crawled into his lap.

"Oh, hello, gorgeous," he said, his hands coming to rest on her hips. There was the barest hesitation, an uncertainty. "You're sure?"

"The baby's asleep, we have time," she said, deliberately misunderstanding, and straddled him. The sharp intake of his breath relieved her of any worry that he didn't want her. This was for the best, then. This was good, this was right, this was how she could keep herself and the baby safe, and keep her husband close at hand and loving her.

It turned out that her husband was better at that than John had been too. Attentive and gentle. He touched the stretch marks on her belly and thighs and breasts with a tangible sense of awe, took clear joy in coaxing her to come. He closed his teeth harmlessly around the curve of her neck and shoulder as he made love to her, and she thought she could feel the points of them a little sharper than they should be.

She started calling the impostor Johnny after that, and her husband never asked why, just kissed her and answered with a ready "Yes, ma'am," whenever she started a sentence with "Johnny, will you please."

When he moved too quickly and she flinched, or when she apologized to him too much, or when he said something a little too like John might, he was careful with her. Apologetic, gentle. She always told him it was alright. They never talked about it. He wasn't John, and John was never coming home, and as long as they never talked about it then everything would be alright, and they could live in this sunlit honeymoon forever.

Nothing good had ever lasted for Gemma, and everything broke eventually. She wished she felt surprised when this broke too. A big rusty pickup truck came roaring up to the house one night. Gemma stared at it through the window, and thought nothing. Only perfect blankness, a deer in too-bright headlights, the engine sound deafening. Loud enough that Johnny came running from the other room.

"Fuck," he said, when he saw the truck through the window. She'd rarely heard him swear, since he came to them. He did even that differently than John did. Crisp, even-toned. Almost matter-of-fact, though she could hear strain under it.

"It's Bill," Gemma said, distantly, in case Johnny didn't know. "Your friend you used to go on all those hunts with. You remember."

Johnny looked at her, and she looked back, and all of the things they didn't talk about stood between them, every prickly edge of them pressing, ready to draw blood. He said, heavily, "I remember."

Outside, the truck parked. The engine shut off, and the headlights. Gemma could see the silhouette of Bill coming up the driveway.

Gemma wiped sweating hands on her skirt and said, "I think you'd better go check on Danny. I'll get the door."

"I think you'd better go check on Danny," Johnny said, gently and firmly. "And don't come back out until I tell you."

Bill knocked. Gemma went numbly to answer it.

Johnny said, very quietly, "Baby, you don't want to see this."

Gemma ignored him and unlocked the door and opened it.

"Bill?" she asked, and the confusion was real. It was alright he could tell she was scared of him. She'd always been scared of him. "John didn't say you were coming!"

"Is he here?" Bill demanded, incredulously, and then his eyes rose and he saw Johnny standing behind her. "Boy, why the hell haven't you been answering my calls?" he demanded, and shouldered his way past Gemma as Gemma melted out of the way. "I thought you were dead."

"After the shit you fucking pulled on me?" Johnny said, and it was John's voice, thick with rage and ugly violence. Gemma's blood froze in her veins, her heart hammering. "You just ditched me with that fucking thing. You wouldn't have thought I was dead if you'd fuckin' stuck around to help me finish the job. The drive home was hell after."

"Oh, so you decided to be a petty little bitch about it?" Bill snarled right back, and came crowding right up into Johnny's space.

Bill reeked like John always had, cigarettes and booze and rust. It was too familiar, too close. Bill and John had duked it out in the living room before, loud and ugly and terrifying. Come to blows, staggered off both bleeding and swearing up a blue streak, and then she would catch them later, talking like the closest of old friends, shoulders pressed together, not looking at each other.

"I decided to spend a few months getting my fuckin' head on straight," Johnny said, and shoved Bill back, hard. "I've got a wife and a fucking baby now, I can't be running off with you all the time to take potshots at ghosts. I'm done. I'm not fucking doing this anymore."

Gemma watched that hurt Bill. Saw the way it cut him open, like maybe he would have preferred if John was dead. "Bullshit," Bill spat. "Bullshit! You fucking love hunting. You've been married years, and what, it's suddenly a fucking problem for you? You can get cunt fucking anywhere. You'd rather stay home and play house with fucking Gemma than come out and save lives?"

Johnny punched him in the mouth. It sent Bill staggering back, blood on his lips, and Gemma shrieked, startled. "Don't you ever," he said, and his voice was low and furious. "Don't you fucking dare talk about my wife like that. I'll put a bullet through your fucking head. Keep her name out of your filthy fucking mouth, you worthless son of a bitch. We're done, you hear me? I don't ever want to see you around here again."

Bill touched his mouth, looked at the blood on his fingers. Then he reached inside his coat and Gemma saw the flash of metal as he pulled out a knife. She gasped, and Johnny said, dangerously, "The hell you planning to do with that, Bill?"

"It's silver, John," Bill said. "You're not acting like yourself. And I'll forgive you for it - I'll fucking leave you and your wife alone," His voice came out wrong, strained and cracking. "But do me a favor and prove to me you really are him."

Gemma's stomach dropped. Johnny stood very still, looking at Bill and at the knife. The air was thick and airless.

"I would have noticed if he wasn't my husband," Gemma said, voice wavering. "You're being ridiculous, Bill."

"Yeah, well, you don't know him like I know him," Bill said. His voice had some awful, heavy triumph in it. "That's an awful lot of hesitation, John."

Johnny sighed, a long, low, rattling breath. "Give me the fucking knife," he said, and held his hand out for it. Time seemed to slow. Gemma didn't know what happened to the sort of thing that Johnny was when he touched silver, but Bill would know, and then he would kill Johnny right here in the living room, and there would never be sunflowers in that vase on the table again.

Gemma turned and hurried out of the room. Behind her, she heard voices rise again, heard the gasp of pain, heard a great crash. Gemma ignored it the best she could as she keyed in the code to the gun safe and got out the shotgun. John had taught her how to shoot, back before they were married, so she could keep herself and Danny safe while he was gone. She checked to make sure the gun was loaded. It was.

There was a sheet of glass between her and the world. Somewhere underneath it all there was sick terror, but her hands were steady on the gun grip.

It was the way she'd felt when her parents died, when John had pressed an iron cross into her hands and told her not to let it go no matter what he or anyone else told her. He'd had to pry it from her hands at the end of the night while she screamed. Tried to fight him. Lost. Cried about it, even when he told her he'd killed them all.

John wasn't here anymore. She cocked the shotgun and went back into the living room.

The coffee table was lying on its side. Blood was splattered across the ground. Bill was sitting upright, straddling Johnny's body. He had the knife in both hands, and Johnny's hands were locked around his wrists, preventing him from stabbing down. His arms were shaking. Bill's shirt was soaked in blood, torn where a knife must have gone through.

Beneath Bill, Gemma's husband didn't look much like John at all anymore. Didn't look much like a person at all. He was bleeding too, his hands around Bill's wrists blistered and burning. Her gorge rose. She couldn't stop staring at him, at Bill, at the blood.

Bill's eyes darted sideways, the whites of them showing, a panicked animal. "Fuck, girl, what are you waiting for, shoot it," he said.

Gemma raised the shotgun and fired.

The noise felt like the house coming down. Armageddon. It made her ears ring, made the startled outburst of the baby's crying from upstairs sound muffled in comparison. The force of it, unexpected, knocked her off balance, sent her stumbling back to collapse. She couldn't even scream as she saw what the blast had done at point blank range. It just came out as panicked, stuttering wheezing. She dropped the gun and pressed both her palms over her eyes and shook with adrenaline.

There was movement, then. The dragging, heavy sound of someone hauling himself to his feet, staggering over to her. Strong arms came around her to hold her, and her mouth opened and she wailed like Danny was wailing. "We're alright, baby girl, we're alright," Johnny said, tired and heavy. She could feel blood soaking through her shirt where he was holding her.

"I killed him," Gemma sobbed.

"You did," Johnny said, after a moment.

"You killed him," Gemma said, and meant someone else entirely.

The pause that time was longer, heavier. "I did," Johnny said.

"Why?" She meant why'd you kill him, though she could guess. She meant why be my husband, and couldn't guess at all.

Maybe being the thing that Johnny was meant he understood people better than John had. Johnny held her tighter and kissed the top of her head and said, "Didn't like how he treated his wife." It was enough.

Gemma laughed, horrible and wet and shocking herself. Maybe someday she'd ask out loud. Maybe someday he'd tell her. "Are you okay?"

"I'll be alright," Johnny said. "I don't go down easy. You go upstairs and shower and see to the baby, I'll clean up down here. Alright?"

"Alright," Gemma said, and meant it. In a moment she would go upstairs and clean herself up and soothe the frightened baby, and in a while maybe Johnny would come upstairs and shower himself and bandage up his wounds and then crawl into bed next to her. All of the nastiness down here would be gone, because Johnny would have cleaned it up for her. They'd maybe end up having to replace the carpet, but then they would just be living here happily in the house that John had bought for her.

"We should move," she said.

If it caught Johnny off guard, he didn't say so. "We'll move, then," he said. "I love you."

"I know," Gemma said, and turned and kissed him. "I love you too," she said, and went upstairs. (Resurrecting my ANCIENT fucking pinglist. from SIX YEARS AGO. I GUESS. I don't know if any of you even still exist but hey if you're alive and liked me SIX YEARS AGO. maybe you will like this. @trishaloach @toastyhat @acefruitloop @skye07 @m1sosazai @yoyoendlessstring @blue-tomatoes @catsfeminismandatla @lady-redshield-writes @alhena09 @emanonnosrep @je11yfish-queen @gingerly-writing @dramaticvoiceover @writingmyselfintoanearlygrave @authorisada @reciclingbin-blog @lushprocrastinatrix @timeenoughforamasterpiece @tedrakitty @haphazardlyparked @kiwisoap

@silver56 @pacifiedperoxide @kooncat @severe-fangirl-syndrome @startledserpent @dhawandyke @50-shaeds-of-fae @stritt @dorianelle @linariuswrites, @somber-fae)

#Original fiction #short fiction #romance #??#my writing #original #feels ABSURD to ping for this after so long but also #you know #I feel like there's been a glow up #also if you are thinking hmmm this whole thing smacks of Supernatural #well #we exist in conversation with a text

131 notes · View notes

loaksbitch · 2 years ago

Text

imagine how the sully boys would react to your sudden death right after you both fought or had an argument? — i don’t know why i wrote this but i had to write the pain i’m going through.

warnings — mention of death, numb feelings, losing mate, blood mention, lmk if i have to add anything.

“i’m so sorry” — jake sully

jake would instantly know something is wrong, that something has definitely happened to you. he would fly his ikran to where his friends had called him through the neck microphone, worry settling in him.

right the moment he lands to the ground, the na’vi’s that were covering your body opened a way for him. jake doesn’t say anything, looking at their eyes and questioning what was wrong. they only gave him a sad gaze, avoiding his eyes.

he could feel his knees weakening as he kept getting closer and closer. his heart raced, mind drifting to ugly thoughts.

jake let a small whimper out when your body came to view. he swallowed the pain on his throat, blinking the tears away. you’re laying on the floor, eyes closed and your sister next to you, holding onto your lifeless hand and crying.

she would look up to his standing figure, shaking her head and crying more. jake locked eyes with her before returning his gaze back to you. he was slow when he kneeled next to your body.

your lips were dry, no life in your face like there was minutes before you two argued and left him. jake bites on his inner cheek, pushing the threatening sob down to the pit of his chest.

the world shut down, the only source of light was your body in his mind. “baby.” he says, voice cracking and ears folding to his hair. you didn't answer him and it was breaking him. “c’mon, open your eyes.” he would brush his hand on the cold skin of your cheek.

“they shot her, they shot her when she was trying to save us.” your sister cried more.

jake told you not to do anything, at least not until he gave you an order but you were always stubborn. you always said no to things he told you not to do, you were the opposite.

jake closes his eyes, sneaking his arm under your head and pulling you to his body. he just wants to be close to you. he doesn’t say anything, the na’vi people watching him in concern when he just silently hugs you close to him.

you’re dead now, you’re no longer with him.

if only you heard him, if only you stopped being a stubborn brat and followed his orders. he still remembers how he yelled at you, telling you nothing you do will be worthy.

you just wanted him to know you can protect the people. your people.

jake softly cries, tears free from his eyes. “i’m sorry.” he would cry, holding you close like you’re the only oxygen he needed. “i’m so sorry, baby.” he cries. jake was never going to forgive himself after this. no, he just can’t live happily knowing he was somehow the reason that led you to your death.

“i’m sorry.” he would whisper as he kept crying.

“she’s not answering me” — neteyam sully

you died protecting him.

neteyam won’t ever stop taking the blame, not when you died taking a bullet for him. everything was in a slow mo, you screaming his name and throwing yourself on top of him.

he felt your body fall on top of him, tumbling him down to the floor. he cursed under his breath, arms wrapped on your waist to prevent you from getting hurt. “shit.” from the corner of his eyes, he can see his brother shooting the enemies and killing them all at once.

once everything was silent, neteyam held onto your back, about to get you up but he was met with a warm liquid smearing over his fingers.

he brings his hand up to see blood all over his hand and instant panic hits him. “princess?” he tries to shake you but you’re not budging. he was fast to roll you over, him on top of you and calling your name.

you’re not answering and it was eating him alive.

“don’t play with me, pretty girl, c’mon.” he taps on your cheek, looking down to see the hole the bullet created from your side to your stomach. neteyam can sense lo’ak walking close to him and gasping when he sees the mess.

“lo’ak, she's not answering me.” the panic and pain was visible in neteyam’s voice. your eyes are closed, not breathing, it was driving your mate crazy. “LO’AK! SHE’S NOT OPENING HER EYES?!” he was in pain, cradling your face to his large hands and humming.

“c’mon baby, lo-look at me.” his breath hitches, tears blurring his vision. “please, eywa, no.” it was in a blink of an eye when he lost you, when neteyam lost you to a fucking bullet.

he doesn’t care how he was looking maniac in front of his family that got here now. he can’t live without you, it’s hard without you. nothing was worth it without you and you’re just gone like that.

neteyam won’t be able to live one moment with you no longer next to him. he can’t and won’t accept the fact you died protecting him.

“i can’t lose you.” — lo’ak sully.

lo’ak knew the trouble he causes would make him pay consequences and he knew dragging you into his problems would cost him high prices.

he doesn’t even know how things turned dark so fast, how the sound of you giggling while you two hide in the bush from the skypeople shifted to where you’re now fighting for your life and whimpering in pain.

“hang on baby, we’re almost there.” he holds you close, trying to sit you straight and help you lean on his chest while he flies you both with his ikran.

the skypeople found you two and tried to get you, but lo’ak was fast enough to get you both out of there but what he didn’t know was you had been shot on your chest while he kept dragging you by your hand.

“lo’ak, i can’t breath.” your loincloth was soaked with your own blood. lo’ak let a cry out, pressing his hand to your chest and commanding his ikran to hurry. “no, try to breath, i can’t lose you.”

he knew he was going to lose you, he knows you’re gonna die sooner or later but lo’ak was in denial. your vision was blurry but you know you’re not far from the village now. but the sad thing was you know you don’t have much time.

you’re barely conscious when the ikran lands on the camp. lo’ak sliding down before bringing you down and securing his arms under your knee and back. you cough, metalic taste on your tongue. “lo’ak…” he heard you whisper but he only shushed you, telling you not to waste your energy.

“SOMEONE HELP! MY MATE IS DYING?!” you can hear him cry, your head lolling to his chest. he knew you didn't have much time, the blood you lost was too much and was smearing on both of your bodies, your vision suddenly turned white, something pulling you down in force.

lo’ak watches the na’vi’s gasp in shock, your weight now heavy on his hold. he was scared to look down, his heart in pain when he didn't feel you breathing. lo’ak sucks a deep breath and looks at you, taking your relaxed features.

his knees were weak, he was now kneeling and placing you on the ground. “no,” he silently whispers. lo’ak glances at your chest and it’s not moving, you’re not breathing and something in him breaks. “no, no, no.” you’re gone too soon.

his bloody large palm pressing on chest, trying to get your life back. “you just can’t leave, wake up.” he cries, shaking his head. lo’ak brings your blood smeared and lifeless hand to his cheek, trying to feel your warmth but nothing was there.

“open your eyes fr’me, look at me.” he hates how the people are watching him in sympathy, his mother’s voice getting closer. your eyes are open, staring on nothing when you’re being cradled to his arm. your blood was all over his face, hand, chest.

no one knows what happened, you two were laughing when you left for a flying date but now lo’ak is back with a lifeless body of a person who he saw his future with.

lo’ak keeps crying, having your body close to him and hissing when the na’vi’s try to take you away. he knew his actions will have consequences but on eywa he never thought you were the price he was costing.

are we feeling okay? i need thoughts on this cause i can’t be the only one suffering now teehee ;D — like + reblogs are super appreciated!

i love each and every one of you sm! ** mwah

2K notes · View notes

bipanicoverthegravessiblings · 11 months ago

Note

Can we have Andrew and Reader transforming into half demon?

You can do it with Ashley together with Reader (separately) if you want.

Reader would have been with the Graves family since episode 1, as she was an exchange student but ended up being abandoned along with her Graves siblings.

She would be a cold, relaxed, indifferent person, a little sociopathic, a little temperamental but kind when they meet.

Reader would have been injured in the Hitman confrontation when she went to save Andrew (let's be honest, this kid would never be able to shoot the Hitman the first time with him being all nervous).

So to treat her injuries correctly they decided to use the demon to heal her, the demon doesn't like the idea of healing someone but he decides to heal her but still angry with this 'disrespect' the demon turns her into a half demon (similar to Jennifer Body the film).

That if she wants to stay alive she has to eat human flesh or drink blood.

If I had a nickel for every time I was requested to write a reader who’s an exchange student staying with the Graves Family- I’d have 4 nickels. Which isn’t a lot, but it’s weird that it’s happened 4 times already

Andrew Graves x Half Demon!Reader

Andrew’s head was pounding

His eyes were wide with terror as he stared down at you in his arms

The events kept playing in his head, over and over like a broken record

He had found the hitman in Ashley’s spontaneously stupid game of hide-and-seek

Although, what was she expecting?

It was an amateur with a gun against a skilled killer with a knife

Of course he wasn’t going to do well!

So, you did the only thing you could think of to save him

Save the boy who you’ve lived alongside since high school

Who’s been nothing but kind and patient to you..

Push him away as the hitman lunged

So, here you lay..

Barely breathing in his arms

While the hitman laid dead nearby

Andrew, in a blind rage finally fired the gun. Draining it dry of any bullets in there in hopes of killing him

And, he achieved his goal

The hitman was dead

And it didn’t look like long til you’d be you…

“Well- you’ve successfully wasted all of our ammo.” Ashley grumbled, picking up her discarded gun. She wiped off any grass blades or dirt that stuck to the pristine silver of it.

If Andrew wasn’t still in shock, he would yell at her. Yell at her for having the audacity to worry more about her gun’s ammo than their dead friend! Yell at her for foolishly trusting him to kill the hitman and then running off! If you hadn’t jumped in, he would be dead…

He should be dead.

Andrew furrowed his brow, tears forming much to his dismay. As he shut his eyes, they fell in twin streams. His hands shook, gripping on to your body as it slowly lost its warmth. He quietly sobbed, trying his best to not make them too loud or pathetic. If he had been better with the gun…if he didn’t hesitate…you would still be…

“Andy!” He felt something cold tap the back of his head, breaking him from his mellow dramatic moment. Ashley stared down at him with frustration, “Come on! Let’s ditch the bodies, someone was bound to hear your bitch crying by now..”

“Are you serious?!” Andrew stood up, still holding you in his arms. He thrusted his arms forward, pushing Ashley back with your dead weight, “Look at her! She’s dying!” He was emotional. Erratic. But he didn’t care.

“I can see that!” His sister pushed his arms back, and Andrew held you close to his chest, “Now put her down before anyone comes by!”

“…no.”

He wasn’t yelling anymore, just staring down at you. Ashley’s eyes widened, before her face became a scowl.

“No?”

“No!”

Ashley, pinched the bridge of her nose, “Okay- yeah- ssuuurreeee! Let’s just carry a dead body around! Want me to stick my hand up her ass and sit her on my lap like a puppet so you can pretend you’re talking with her?” She roughly poked Andrew’s forehead, “Are you out of your fucking mind?!”

“Well I’m not leaving her!” Andrew snapped back, making Ashley flinch ever so slightly. He didn’t seem to care though as he turned his attention back down to you.

Both were quiet for a while, probably longer than they should have because people would be coming by soon to see the commotion. Ashley could see the thoughts running behind her brother’s eyes, clearly thinking of something to fix this…to fix you.

She didn’t understand what the fuss was about though. You were just dead weight before, and now you are literally. Plus, she never liked the looks her brother gave you. You were better off dead in her eyes, and if anyone was going to kick the bucket, it would’ve been you…

But Andrew didn’t want to leave you behind. Sentimental bastard. What was he expecting? You to just- snap out of being dead? It wasn’t that easy!

….or….was it?

Ashley’s hand drifted over the front pocket of her shorts, the imprint of the demon trinket visible. Andrew saw her subconscious motions out of the corner of his eye and perked up. Where hope formed on his face, Ashley scowled.

“No!”

“Give it here!”

Andrew set your body down, lunging for his sister for the trinket. The pair fell to the ground, wrestling one another for the trinket.

“Let! Go!”

“No! It’s mine!”

In the end, Ashley didn’t win. Andrew, for as gangly as he is, was still stronger than her and managed to get the trinket away. He cupped it in his hands, standing up and observing it quizzically. There was an ominous aura to this dream catch esc thing, but he didn’t care.

“The demon..”

“Andrew, no!”

“Let’s take Y/N to the cultists lair—“

“Andrew!”

“Summon the demon—“

“You asshole- are you even listening?!”

“And get her back!”

Andrew grinned from ear to ear, his arms held out at the genius of his plan.

So- this is what it felt like to be Andrew, Ashley lamented. She got why he was such a stick in the mud all the time now.

Before she could object, Andrew was already picking up your body.

“Come on! Let’s go! Everyone should be gone by now!”

Despite Ashley’s insistence that it wouldn’t work and they should cut their losses, Andrew persisted

Eventually the two snuck you into the cultists’ meeting room

Shockingly, everything was still set up from when Andrew had previously visited.

It made for a quick and easy ritual

Ashley’s demon friend was less than happy to be bothered though….

“tAr SoUl….wHaT iS tHiS?”

The dark, red eyed blob stared angrily up at Ashley- who gestured to your dead corpse like a game show assistant would show off a car.

“A body?…”

“I rEqUiRe FrEsH sOuLs..” the demon skittered around the body, prodding it with its tendrils, “tHiS iS aLrEaDy DeAd!”

“I know but-“ Ashley groaned, pointing to Andrew with her thumb, “My dumbass brother draws the line at necrophilia and wants her back.”

“I’m sorry- WHAT?!”

Andrew objected, completely disregarding the fact that they were in the presence of a demon, “Do you REALLY think the only reason I want to bring her back is so I can have sex with her?!”

“Well?” Ashley looked at him blankly, “Isn’t it?”

“…..” Andrew adverted his eyes to the ground, “It’s…partly true…”

“I fucking knew it.” Ashley sighed, completely exasperated by her brother’s idiocy, “I can’t believe you’re using MY demon connections so you can get your dick wet without feeling like a bad person! News flash Annnddyyyyy~” she gave him that shit eating grin she knew he despised, “You’ve done much worse.”

“Shut your whore mouth!”

“Make me pussy!”

“EnOuGh!”

The siblings stopped their bickering, Andrew pausing as he had grabbed the collar of Ashley’s shirt. They stared at the demon, looking more like their parent just scolded them than a demon yelling at them to stop their bickering.

The demon floated very close to Andrew’s face, causing him to release his sister and step back, “yOu WiSh To UsE mY pOwErS tO rEvIvE tHe MoRtAl?”

Andrew nodded.

“tHeN wHaT iS iT yOu OfFeR?..”

Andrew’s face contorted as he tried to think, “Uhhhh…”

Ashley stood behind the demon, smugly smiling at her cornered brother, “Haha! Bet ya didn’t think this far, didya?”

“Shut up woman!—“

Andrew immediately regretted raising his voice, as the demon’s red eyes glowed menacingly- almost staring holes into his retinas. He gulped, wishing he could tell Ashley to call off her guard demon- but that would only make things worse for him. Here he was, with no souls to offer a demon- and the demon already didn’t like him for his foolish request and yelling at his ‘tar soul’.

“wElL?…” the demon broke the silence that wafted through the air.

Andrew’s eyes widened, “O-Okay! Ummm..” he searched his brain for anything, any idea on how to revive you when he blurted out the first thing he landed on, “Souls! I can get you two souls for bringing back Y/N’s!”

“aNd WhErE aRe ThEsE sOuLs?”

“Well, I don’t have them now-“ The demon growled and Andrew tensed, “But! But! I can get them to you very soon! Yeah! How’s that sound?”

The red eyed blob stared at Andrew for a few moments, clearly considering his deal before it turned around and made its way to your corpse, “VeRy WeLl…BuT yOuR fAiLuRe FoR pAyMeNt UpFrOnT wIlL cOmE wItH cOnSeQuEnCeS..”

With those words, the room went pitch black. By the time the fluorescent lights returned, the demon was gone. Andrew lunged for your body, kneeling down beside you.

“Y/N?…” he shook you a little, “Y/N?”

His face faltered for a moment, fear coursing through him before he felt your body move. Your breathing was slow…but you were breathing! He cupped your face in his hands, waiting anxiously for you to open your eyes.

And you did.

And then you spoke.

“..A-��.Andrew?”

And like that- you were back!

Sore, with some blood gone

But back nonetheless!

You felt….strange though

Upon coming down from his high of overwhelming joy, Andrew noticed just how cold you were

You didn’t feel chilly at all

But you felt cold to the touch

Along with that, you couldn’t get the taste of blood out of your mouth

It was hard to decipher which was the result of having been a corpse for half an hour…

…or what was from being brought back by a demon

But, Andrew had a debt to pay

So that can be worked out later

Returning to the motel parking lot, the hitman’s car was still there

And no one was around yet

So you took that and set off

You slept most of the ride

It was a rough night of…ya know

Dying

So you deserved to sleep

Though your dreams were…strange

Images of red

Blood spewing as you bit into the neck of a screaming person

You didn’t get a good look at them until their body was a mangled mess of torn limbs with bits of flesh taken out of them

Your face stained with blood

The delicious sensation filling your mouth

At first you chalked this up to a guilt dream

You feeling bad for eating that cultist a while back

But…no

This wasn’t a guilt dream

You never feasted on that man like an animal

You never went back for seconds, depraved of the taste

And in those dreams you never felt what you were feeling in that moment

…desire for more

Your concerning dream was interrupted by a sudden sensation of pain as a projectile was thrown at your head.

“Ow!” You sat up, your hand shooting to the assaulted spot on your head, “What the?..”

“I told you to wake her!” Andrew hissed.

“I did!” Ashley objected, “My shoe woke her up!”

“You little..”

Andrew’s grumbling trailed off, turning to look at you from the driver’s seat. You gave him a reassuring nod to let him know you were okay. He sighed in slight relief. How that the- initial pain in your head was gone, you looked out the window to see just where you three were. The backseat passenger window showed you a parking with cars lining the spots as far as you could see.

“Where…are we?” You asked, turning back to look at the siblings, “And what are we doing here?”

“Cheapskate here says it’s free parking.” Ashley replied bluntly, not even giving Andrew’s annoyed look a glance.

You looked between them, “Don’t we- need to pay that demon back? How’s free parking going to get us two souls?”

“Go on Annnndddd—“ Ashley paused as Andrew gave her a look, “…drew. Andrew. Tell Y/N your brilliant plan!”

Andrew sighed, resting his hands on the wheel as he tried to explain the plan, “Alright, so…we need two souls for that demon. We- are also running low on money. So…we’re going to kill two birds with one stone.”

You nodded, though his and Ashley’s drastically different expressions told you there was more. So- you prodded.

“And those birds arreee?”

“…our parents.”

The rational thing was to claim that they couldn’t do such a thing! Their parents took you in after all!

…although you’d be lying

Mrs Graves really only agreed because she’d get a cut of the exchange student program funds

Other than provide you a roof, she ignored you like she did her other children

Same goes for her husband, who didn’t do much of anything beside give you awkward hellos before he went to work

So you weren’t really against robbing and killing them

The events played as normal, pretending the fire that “killed everyone” was sensational news coverage and you all were fine!

You’re “politely” told to go to bed early, bunking with Ashley in the basement while Andrew took the couch.

Though, being honest…

You didn’t trust yourself around Ashley alone

Ever since you’ve been alive you’d had this…animalistic urge to tear into someone like a carnivorous animal

To hold them to the ground and watch the light leave their fear filled eyes as you tore out their throat

And Ashley was defenseless

Sleeping just inches from you in the spare bed

Her gun was empty, you knew this

So she wouldn’t shoot you

So you did the both of you a favor, and got out of there

Your eyes lingered on the basement stairs, the bed and Ashley’s sleeping form still very in much in your view. You had to tear your eyes away to avoid running back down there and giving in to the voice in your head telling- no, demanding you devour her.

Your relationship with her was complicated enough, and you knew with enough convincing you would. She was always cold with you, trying to tear a wedge between you and Andrew as you both got closer. But she also was the closest thing you had to a sister or any actual familial connection. You don’t think you could bear that guilt.

You drew your eyes to the couch, Andrew fast asleep on it. You could trust yourself around him, you know you could. The voice had nothing against Andrew. So you crossed over to the couch, kneeling down beside it.

Andrew’s unconscious state was fragile, stirring almost immediately as he felt a presence join him. His eyes opened with some strain, his voice littered with tiredness.

“Y/N?…” he sat up, rubbing his eyes, “Did Ashley kick you out?..”

“No.” You responded. You debated telling him why you were here if Ashley hadn’t kicked you out, but what could you tell him? ‘Hey I wanted to eat your sister’? You couldn’t do that. So instead you asked, “Can I sleep with you tonight?”

A small blush painted Andrew’s cheeks, as he nodded slightly. He pulled the covers aside, scooting closer to the back of the couch so you’d have room. You climbed onto the couch with him, your arms wrapping around his torso. You felt him shiver from the closeness, almost forgetting how cold you were. You didn’t care though. You craved the closeness more than you craved tearing into Andrew’s flesh and eating his heart in front of him.

You furrowed your brow, pushing those thoughts down as Andrew slowly covered you two up.

“You…alright?” Andrew tentatively asked. Obviously you weren’t alright, by this time last night you were dead.

You racked your mind about what to say, nuzzling into his sweater for comfort as you spoke, “I’m- fine….just ever since I….”

“Died?”

“Yeah, that….I’ve had….urges.”

“Like- what?”

“…like devouring someone like an animal.”

He went quiet after that. You can’t exactly say what you expected reaction wise. Disgust? Fear? Silence felt appropriate to be fair. You weren’t anticipating his next words when he processed the information…

“…three birds with one stone then.”

The plan went as the siblings had- semi planned.

Scaring the parents with an unloaded gun into the basement

Removing the limit from Mrs Graves credit card so they’d have some cash

Handing their souls to the demon

And Andrew leaving you to enjoy your meal

You felt like an animal. A hungry, ravenous animal.

Your breath was shaky, eyes wide with horror at what you’d done. You and the basement were bloodied mess, and your host parents were mangled beyond recognition.

It didn’t help that you were on your hands and knees, chin drenched with blood as what you had done replayed in your mind. The sounds of the basement stairs creaking broke you out of your trance. You cowered momentarily before realizing it was Andrew.

“Wow- you..” he paused, covering his mouth as he gagged from the smell of blood, “Really did a number on them..”

Hot tears welled in your eyes as you stared up at him. You trembled, falling further to the ground than you already were. Your forehead met the basement floor as you sobbed.

“I’m sorry!” You wailed, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry—“

It was all you could say. What else could you? You shook and sobbed like the wounded animal you were as Andrew slowly approached you. He fell to his knees in front of you, and pulled you into a hug. His parents’ blood stained his sweater, but he didn’t care. He’ll wash it later.

You trembled in his arms as he rubbed gentle circles into your back, soft shushes filling your ears as he comforted you. You buried your face into his shoulder, shaking and crying from what you’d done. This was different than when you ate the cultist back at the apartment, then you didn’t feel so….dehumanized.

He was prepared like a dish. Not bitten into like a wolf delivering the killing blow to a deer. He was eaten for survival. They were eaten to satiate this desire you had.

Though to Andrew, this downside was worth it, so long as he could hold you again.

#yeah this is long enough I’m not making an Ashley version #unless there’s enough pushback for one #the coffin of andy and leyley #andrew graves #andrew graves x reader #x reader

209 notes · View notes

houpss · 10 months ago

Note

Dawg I’m actually begging crying on my knees for you to do a reverse version where like reader dies protecting skz 😭😭😭 ofc obvi no pressure, like only if you’d like to 🙏🏻🩷 you write so well im like obsessed

ububububu.....I'm very pleased to hear this! thanks for the idea, love 🩷🫂

I'm eating strawberries and crying, I literally feel bad about this job 😭😭😭

SKZ's reaction to your death ver. hyung line

maknae line

It pains me to write this work, my heart breaks and I begin to believe in this nonsense... BUT REMEMBER THAT ONLY PERSONALITIES ARE TAKEN FROM THE REAL SKZ, EVERYTHING REST IS FICTION!

Bang Chan

It happened...suddenly.

Chan returned home before you, he wanted to cook you dinner and then turn on a new movie that he recently found.

He knew that you were stuck at work, so he wasn’t too worried.

An hour has passed... you're gone, but you should be back by now. Two hours have passed, Chan is nervous.

He called you, you didn’t pick up, he called you so many times, but you didn’t hear.

At two o'clock in the morning he receives a call on his phone. He jumps out of bed, hoping it's you calling, but it's just an unfamiliar number.

He picks up the phone, he just hopes you're okay.

"Are you Bang Christopher Chan? I'm sorry..Y/N Bang died."

Chan thought it was a joke, a very unfunny joke.

He can only come to consciousness when he sees your body. Road accident, you didn't survive.

He will ask Changbin, Jisung and Hyunjin to come out quite aggressively, because they came with him.

He ran his fingers over your pale face, tears forming in his eyes. Impossible.

He strokes your hair, strokes your hands, stopping at your fingers...he squeezes your hand tightly. Why did you leave him?

Tears fall on your lifeless body, you would be very upset if you saw Chan crying.

They can only drag him out of your room in the morning, he didn’t want to let go of your body until the end, it was like he was possessed.

"No, don't take me...I have to stay with her! I don't want to be taken away from her"

"she’s probably so cold and scared... she’s alone there, she’s already lifeless.”

He blamed himself, he could have taken you away from work, but why didn’t you ask?

The exit from the hospital is filled with reporters and paparazzi, the shocking news shocked many: “Model and Actress, Bang Chan’s wife Y/N Bang died in a car accident.”

Thanks to the members, they protected Chan from reporters and endless paparazzi. Chan did not walk behind as usual, but in the middle, and a ring was created around the participant.

Chan doesn’t remember anything, he just cried, he cries so much and loudly.

The members refused to leave him, although he asked so. They went to the dorm.

A day has passed... two days have passed... a week has passed. Funeral.

He remembers everything very vaguely, he was the last one to kiss your forehead before the coffin lid was closed.

Now he is completely alone.

He eats very little and hardly leaves the room. Minho literally force feeds him.

Your photos are open on his phone, you are on his wallpaper.

He doesn’t want to live without you, he wants you so much.

His tears never dry, he cries constantly. There are no emotions inside him, he is dead.

He looked through your correspondence... his heart ached madly.

He just loves you so much, he loves only you.

He apologized profusely to your family, it was his fault.

In the end he won't cope and he will leave for you. Chan was found hanged in his room. There was a note on the table with the words: “I can’t live without her, I’m nothing without her... forgive me.”

Lee Minho

People come and go. The simple meaning of life

But you couldn't leave him...not you

If you loved, then you would not have left...WHY DID YOU LEAVE HIM?

Overdose of antidepressants.

He found you in your apartment, you were lying on the bed, wrapped in a blanket... you seemed to be sleeping, but your heart was not beating.

What if he had found you earlier?

He would have stopped you.

He found a letter next to you... your last will and love for him

"𝐈'𝐦 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐤...𝐈 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰"

"𝐈 𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞, 𝐇𝐨"

"𝐈'𝐦 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐈 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐥𝐲. 𝐈𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐞."

IT'S NOT EASIER WITHOUT YOU

He has been crying for several days in a row. Even the members can't pull it out.

He became so aggressive and closed.

His heart rotted and broke without you

He falls asleep with your sweatshirt on, with your perfume on it.

The company releases a statement that Minho is taking an indefinite hiatus from activities.

He wants to close his eyes, open his eyes and have you next to him.

He went through many treatments with you and visited many psychiatrists.

You smiled at him so much, so what happened?

Minho cried for the first time in front of the members, everyone was broken with your death.

After your death, he smoked for the first time.

The cigarette smoke calmed him down at least a little. And in your dreams you came to him, you talked to him a lot.

He became very closed off to himself, even Jisung couldn’t get him to talk.

Everything and everywhere reminded him of you

Your bottle of perfume...your drawings, your rings, your elastic bands, your sweaters

You would curse if you saw him like this.

Only a month later, after your funeral, he dared to pick up your phone.

To mom, dad and sister: “I’m sorry that I’m so weak.. I would like a better life for you, I wanted to live better and happier. I’m a bad daughter.”

To SKZ:"Sorry...be strong, you are world stars and become even more popular..."

To Minho:"I repent of you, I hate myself for what I did. I have about ten minutes left...And in these ten minutes I will continue to love you, Lee Minho. Maybe we will meet in the next life?"

The emotions he had been holding back burst out.

He screamed, his scream deafening the silence.

Physical pain in his heart pierced him. how the bitch it hurts.

Now he's wearing your big jacket.

“Please protect me, Y/N.”

SEO CHANGBIN

"Police lieutenant Seo Y/N was shot..she died while intercepting a drug gang. The ambulance did not have time to arrive"

What did he just hear? Why are they saying your name?

Is this a mistake? Maybe they got it wrong?

He refused to believe it until he was asked to come to the morgue to identify the body.

Yes, you were lying there...a bullet in the forehead.

Changbin turned away, he couldn’t look at you. He's scared.

Probably then he realized all the pain, he stopped living.

Felix and Seungmin forcibly dragged him away from the morgue.

He was never against your work, he was just proud of you. Of course, his wife is a police lieutenant.

He knew it was dangerous, but could anything bad happen to you?

"Changbin, she died a hero, please...be the same hero for her."

There were so many people at your funeral, why did they all come?

Changbin felt lost, Chan was holding his hand. Changbin couldn't navigate the space.

Time doesn't heal anything, remember.

He lost the desire to exist

He hated your job after your death, it's all your damn job.

Will you protect Changbin? Are you his guardian angel?

From time to time he hears your voice.

He will come to your parents and ask for forgiveness.

Really, forgive him.

He will take your dog with him, it seems... the dog really misses you, where is his owner?

Changbin doesn't like music anymore, he stopped working out, he stopped eating.

"Y/N would be upset if she knew that you wanted to leave the group."

"She told you to create for the sake of people's happiness."

"WITHOUT HER THERE IS NO FUCKING THIS HAPPINESS..."

You would like him to continue writing and working.

He will stay for your sake... and for the sake of the members, these three months they kept him afloat, he literally clung to them.

Your dog now has 8 caring men

Changbin brings red Lilies, your favorite flowers, to your grave every week.

Hwang Hyunjin

You have been married for five years, recently celebrated your anniversary.

You were the happiest couple! STAY blessed couple , the participants were incredibly happy about your couple.

You found out that you are pregnant.

Hyunjin was incredibly happy! Members will become uncles to your baby.

Felix took the place of godfather.

Chan and Minho were responsible for choosing the name.

And Changbin, Jisung, Seungmin and Jeongin made rooms for your baby!

But...you had a back injury, which made it dangerous to give birth.

You didn't care, you were going to have the baby.

Difficulties began immediately during contractions, Hyunjin was with you all the time.

He was forced to leave the room in the middle of labor.

The members who were waiting in the corridor were very worried.

Sudden silence.

The doctor came out of the maternity room and said: “Congratulations, you have a daughter... please accept my condolences, your wife has died.”

What?

It sounded so absurd.

Hyunjin walked into your room, you looked so tired...so sad. sad aphrodite.

Hyunjin kissed your forehead, one hand on your neck, the other holding your hand.

"Thank you for daughter...and forgive me, I love you very much"

Tears rolled down Hyunjin's cheeks, the tears were like pearls.

Hyunjin went home with the members.. The workers left your daughter in the hospital for several days.

Hyunjin seemed to understand nothing, he understood absolutely nothing.

"The baby will grow up in love, Hyunjin"

"We will all take care of her..she is an extension of Y/N" These words from Chan hurt Hyunjin's heart...He will protect and love his daughter.

Hyunjin is always crying, his eyes are red, his face is swollen from crying.

It hurt even more when Seungmin brought your favorite coffee.

In three days we could pick up our daughter.

All eight participants went to the maternity hospital.

They brought out a small package for you, what a tiny little thing.

Hyunjin looked at the little baby as if he were the eighth wonder of the world, the girl was sleeping. Hyunjin could have sworn that she would look like you.

"We'll call her Viyoung" Why is this in tune with Vendetta?

The guy nodded approvingly, tears flowing down his cheeks again.

The members took turns holding the bundle with the baby in their hands.

"I will love you so much, Viyoung...just like your mother loved you."

“Your uncles will take care of you...you will grow up with complete love.”

They went home, everything will be fine. Your memory will never fade away. Hyunjin will raise a beautiful daughter. She's a copy of you, but with Hyunjin's eyes.

242 notes · View notes

blueberryarchive · 11 months ago

Text

𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒘𝒃𝒆𝒓𝒓𝒚 & 𝒍𝒊𝒒𝒖𝒐𝒓

♰pairing; preacher!jk x reader x cowboy!jm

♰word count; 4.6k

♰genre; smut, horror, angst

♰tw; dead dove do not eat, drowning, heavy non-con, dacryphilia, oral, penetration, mentions of blood, depiction of religion, gruesome details of death, physical and verbal violence (jk has a serious rage problem), alcohol consumption, smoking, mentions of jk wanting to have sex as a teen.

prev//next

"Love. Sweetheart, stay with me a lil' longer, please. Fuck, Jeon, she's dying on me." Jimin bellowed, a halo of violet light outlining his silhouette as dry cornfields passed by the sides of the truck, your body bouncing with the truck's turmoil from side to side.

You looked down and saw your numb leg, the dark hole of burnt skin that Park soaked with a misty liquor. His awake and worried eyes, the dried blood of your lusts on his lips, the new blood that the wound vomited out, covering his hands, becoming thicker and purer.

Your shoulders slumped, your head resting on the back window of the truck. The two men were fighting, but that was just as the murmur of crickets and moths.

The sky was infinite, domed with stars, all subtly arranged in the perfect position. You saw among the sequins of God, all your dresses and the damn heels in which you had to squeeze your growing body. How Miss Texas' adorable smile became a pathetic white plate without emotion.

And oh, you knew that the fall of a star was inevitable, but not even the flame began to die when you were already sunken between the rocks and the soft grass caressing the last spark, your first tears of acceptance. And in the grass, you dozed, feeling sorry for your own useless body, the plastic crowns, the gold, and the memories of the applause.

"No! Stay." A slap brought you back to the hard floor of a barn. The unknown man grabbed your cheeks and choked you with a long, bitter drink of homemade liquor.

The little light came in from a window in the wooden ceiling, the heat emanating from the hay and wool piled in the corner, leaving a strong smell, you groaned before vomiting to the side.

"Fuck, Jungkook. She's not a fucking animal, you're going to make her faint." Jimin pushed his partner. Jungkook swallowed hard. His pale, neat face was dirty with crimson droplets.

"What the fuck were you thinking, Park?" Jungkook pushed him back, and neither of them could believe it, neither the action nor the power in the voice.

"What are you talkin' about?"

"Letting in a bunch of rapist shit-smoking hippies without a fucking cent to pay for their stay."

And then you thought about the rifle the father was carrying, about Sage and the others. A gasp from deep in your chest, the sob reminding you of your pain.

The rifle was pointed at you with anger pooling in his neck that didn't let him breathe. You screamed as you tried to stand up but it was useless, your wounded leg was your cross. Jimin moved as quickly as possible to cover your mouth, squeezing until it hurt.

"What did you do with the others?" Park's voice trembled, and his partner's eyes showed an open, bloody wound that would not close until a couple of demons ran away.

"I shot the boy in the shoulder, the two girls took the car and drove to California. I made them promise not to come back."

"You're a fucking psychopath." Your scream is muffled by the cowboy's fingers.

The rifle flew away in the hay, and the impatient sheep threw themselves to one side when they knew that it was not food they brought but danger.

"Jeon, stop!"

Jungkook was taller and heavier than his partner, so it wasn't difficult to lunge at you, grab your hair, and compress your chin until he felt every tooth. He was sweating with the smell of incense and wine, his thin lips spit in your face.

"It's because of people like you that I want to leave the church and buy a damn truck, pick up every son of a bitch on Route 66 who raises his dirty thumb on the side of the road, and bathe them in acid until they dissolve alive."

You didn't say anything, because you were pure meat in front of him, a mere animal for slaughter if you moved too close…

Two hot tears fell to Jungkook's fingers, and it was as if a flower had opened in his hand. A strange tickling in his throat left him passive, mute. He removed his hat with the respect the pained lady deserved.

"You're the Bell Ranch kid."

"Please tell me you didn't start shooting people in my house." Jimin interrupted, pacing back and forth impatiently.

"Jimin, she's the Bell Ranch kid-"

"I know, it doesn't matter now. You shot her and she's bleeding herself to death, Christ."

"I told you it was just a shot, they'll probably think it was to scare a coyote."

The cowboy crouched down and tucked his head between his legs, the alcohol rising into his veins.

"You're such an idiot, you know?" The father continued, filling the silence.

"What did you just say?"

"You really believe that these people come to enjoy rural life, to feed your chickens and fuck in the mountains."

"I needed the money," Jimin muttered stressed.

"The fuck you needed that money for?"

"To get the hell out of this place." He roared, standing again in front of Jungkook. "I'm sick and tired of Rivermouth and its moribund, corrupt town. It makes me want to throw up just thinking about having to see the fucking faces of the same people at Bee's diner again."

Jungkook furrowed his eyebrows at him, seeing him as if he were a child throwing a tantrum.

"But everyone loves you, you're like a star here."

Jimin laughed, glassy eyes threatening to ooze saline waters.

"Do you know who else was a star in this town? Your dad, little church boy."

"Jimin." He warned you saw how his fists showed through his knuckles.

"And the star decided to have a summer camp for all the children, ended up in a human grill, and everyone thought that your dad fucked children."

It was so fast that you couldn't see Jimin's body fall to the ground, the dust hiding the blows that reverberated from Jimin's skull. The cowboy didn't lift his arms, instead, he let his friend vent until he saw Jimin's silver fang painted red.

Jungkook gasped like a barbarian, his arms trembled before he delivered the next punch and fell next to Jimin, overwhelming moans coming from his chest, stale tears, and babbling that only Jimin understood, but he didn't move.

Jimin closed his eyes, thinking about teenage Jungkook who was trying to get close to the burned body of his father, which Jimin never let him talk about or touch, for the funeral he locked him in his room even after protests and threats. He didn't know if he wanted to protect him, if because he was older than him, he thought about taking the role that that monument of a man had left behind.

He was as attractive as his son, charismatic, and an all-around good man. But his statue began to crack when some young people arrived at the church, a couple who convinced him that he did not need the God for whom he so praised and knelt down. But he was the deity, who with his wings would go far.

He had this idea of encouraging the little ones next to him, elevating them. He closed the doors of the old church, while singing with the children and bathed the edges of the windows in kerosene.

The screams were hellish, no one heard them. No one cried more than the little boy who saw his sister burning on the ground, no one screamed more than the girl whose dress melted into her skin, and no one trusted her father more than the youngest son of Father John I.

Jungkook's younger brother hung from his father's clothes, watching his friends burn with a sense of purpose, that this had to happen for his own good.

And like Icarus, the sun kissed his father's body without Jungkook realizing the changes until very late: the sarcastic laughter in the middle of reading, his constant absence, the misplaced and ambitious gaze.

His mother fell into the abyss. Died sitting in a rocking chair when her body seemed to disintegrate more and more every day. A rosary in hand, a tiresome prayer that licked away her sorrows.

"Come on, we have to think about what we're going to do with her," Jimin murmured, wiping away the trickle that ran down his nose. Jungkook gave him his hand and stood up. Both men hugged each other until the minor stopped sobbing.

The father looked in your direction, determined. You could feel the black socket of his eyes fire just once and not miss.

"We have to chain her before she runs away."

Jimin nodded. There was no time to lose.

A latent pain spread through Jungkook's head until a crown of pure anguish decorated his hair. Two fingers pinched the bridge of his nose as the phone rang incessantly on the other line.

One of the things that bothered him about Billie, was the way time seemed to run smoothly and leisurely through her fingers. It took her forever to analyze things, to choose what she was going to eat, even if it would always be chicken pot pie; and in this case, answer the phone.

The telephone booth where he was was dirty, it smelled of urine, and the windows were clouded with dust. He was still wearing his black shirt and pants, his collar pristine white, his old man's ring on his right hand being moved anxiously.

He couldn't believe what he would do in his free time instead of being with the girl he had decided to marry. But a letter arrived at his office at the church that afternoon, one of the children playing in the park had been sent with it. The letter was a simple piece of paper wrapped and tied with an improvised wildflower as a cord.

I'll be busy tonight. The sheep must be tamed and sheared. J.

When he read the words, he almost dropped the paper on the floor and sent the boy out with a dollar in his hand so that he would promise not to tell anyone.

He spent the entire mass having trouble speaking, gave averted glances, and cleared his throat like a sick man. The drops of sweat clinging to his chest, it was hell.

"Hello?"

"Billie, it's John, sweetheart."

"Why are you not here?" His chest sank as he heard the sweet voice of his girl. He closed his eyes and pressed his lips together.

"I must..." his voice trailed off. The last time he lied was so long ago.

It's not that religion made him feel guilty for telling a lie, sometimes a father must lie to people's faces with such solemnity that the devotee can only let themselves fall into the invisible hands of God and lie down on hope for a miracle.

"I have to take care of one Park's ewe. Poor little one it's havin' some trouble, and he doesn't want her to be alone until his show ends." Terrible, one of the worst lies he's ever made.

Silence.

"Do you want me to come with you?" Billie purred, almost in a plea. He sighed, he could see her pink varnished nail tangled in the phone cord eagerly. Trying not to wake her dad's ears with such questions.

Jungkook had her on the edge because he hadn't even kissed her. He knew he was cruel for that. It's not that he has officially offered either, but sometimes a man doesn't lie through words, but by taking her home, by looking into her eyes for a longer time when he gives her the host, by helping her learn to touch herself inside the confessional.

"It's better not to, pet. I'm sure it'll be an allnighter, the thing'll be crying for hours and I know how sensitive you are with animals."

"It's true, you know me so well, Jungkook."

He smiled. "I know, darling." He clears his throat before continuing. "But tomorrow you can come to the parish, and we will feed the pigeons in the morning. How 'bout that?"

One more lie, this time it was not the hands of God but the calloused and bloody hands of the young father. But she just giggled.

"Goodnight, Billie. Say hi to your mother for me."

"'Night, Johnnie. I love you."

A lump in his throat, and he thanked God because after saying that, she closed the call. His tongue turned to lead to say those three words back. He knew he did, he wanted to protect Billie more than anything and make her happy, but there was no need to say it, right?

Jungkook's shirt was unbuttoned, the shaking in his breathing causing an unusual tremor in the sound of the farm. It was a windy night, there wasn't much moonlight, so Jungkook lit several kerosene lamps on the banks.

The wooden tub was arranged in the center, the horses and chickens raising their heads every time Jungkook grunted, bringing more hot water. The sweat falling down his temples and over his broad chest, the steam had him suffocated in that silence, and you showed no signs of waking up at any time.

He approached the hay in the corner where the sheep surrounded your body curled up like a fetus, you slept with bloody clothes and matted hair. Your breathing is as soft as the wool around you, both hands and feet tied with rope.

You looked like a lost princess. A princess who devoured every man in her land, and now she rests peacefully to reduce her satiety. Your dry mouth and the remains of Jimin's blood fell to your neckline, making Jungkook's face boil, because he couldn't believe that his friend had fallen for such banalities. It made him want to take the same lamp in his fingers and drop it on top of your delicate body.

His boot touched your low heels, but nothing. He crouched down until he had his hand close to your shoulder, your skin tender under the shaking flames, curved and soft under the dress you were wearing.

You were disgusting, angelic, so terribly at peace in your state.

Of course, upon his arrival at Jimin's house, the first thing he did was open your suitcase and touch all your belongings. Because, in the end, a woman is her belongings: she is the compact blush that she has worn since she was 19, she is the old leather necklace with the worn-out heart pendant and the empty perfume bottle.

Women feel this need to keep things that don't work or lose their value over time. Something that may have to do with how Jungkook sees them, how it's the opposite for him. How his father and his uncles also saw the women in his life. The brighter, the better.

Women, instead, have their daughters' teeth in their jewelry like yellowish nacre and love the same man from their fifteenth until the memories fade with their bodies.

Jungkook knew you would like something to remind you of home, where you truly belong. Not California, not New York, not even Austin; but Rivermouth, with its disproportionate mountains, the storm clouds filling the sky at all hours, and the same faces transferring from parents to children to grandchildren.

A place where nothing changed and that was the good thing. Even though things might end up bad.

He was sure your body was not leaving that barn, he had come to that decision the same day he saw you.

To recompensate, he decided to find you the most beautiful dress among your belongings, a delicate bow with which he would decorate your neck and a vermilion lipstick.

His hand squeezed your shoulder until you stood up screaming, his hand went straight to your mouth.

"Don't fucking do that, please." The way you looked around made Jungkook understand that you didn't remember anything, it was sad to see the weight lift your pupils towards his and still try to find an explanation. "You need to shower, your stench is making me sick."

He grabbed your bound wrists and dragged you to the edge of the hot water, a round, yellowish sponge and sulfur soap placed on a stool.

"Don't make a noise, you'll wake up Sweet Pea," Jungkook murmured behind you, the heat of his breath on your back.

Sweet Pea was a sheep separated from the others, sleeping between a bed made of hay and old coats. Her bloated stomach writhed with each ragged breath. She suffered with her mouth open and her woolly paws shivering with every squirm of the babies in her belly, she slept painfully.

"Raise your arms." The man behind you whispered, a sharp Swiss army knife cutting through the fabric of your dress like butter. The cold of his hands removing your dress let a gasp leave your lips. "Easy, there."

His tall, sweaty body leaned into your hands, his eyes evading yours, swallowing hard. Your breasts fell light and exquisite, your exposed stomach curved until it reached the plain of your pussy and Jungkook felt like the edge of his knife would slip from his hands as he finished tearing your clothes.

"Let's see the wound." He cleared his throat, sitting on the bench where he had a clean pair of gauze. "Does it hurt?"

"What do you think?" You interrupted, raising your foot to the top of his knee.

"Have some respect. I'm not one of your little friends."

You rolled your eyes as the slender fingers removed the knot from the dirty yellowed gauze. You hissed, leaning your body forward. As a result, you placed your hands on top of Jungkook's jet-black hair, tightening the strands under your fingers in the last turn of the gauze. Jungkook took a deep breath, his fingers trembling gently as he examined the bruised hole.

"At least the blood stopped."

"Do you plan to heal my wound until I starve to death here?"

Jungkook was already getting tired of your words, of that shrill accent, and your lips always a little parted as if waiting for them to fill your mouth with-

"I plan to heal your wounds until I find a grave big enough to put you and all your things in." Your alert eyes made him laugh. He loved seeing the terror in them. Made you look more adorable.

He grabbed the clear liquor from among the hay and wet a piece of cotton. Your left leg was shaking from the effort, and you were weak, surely Jimin was stupid enough to not leave you something to eat before going to enjoy his fame.

"You're crying." Jungkook saw the tears falling to your breasts, you were quick to remove the ones that were flowing with your tied hands. Inhaling and sobbing like a little girl trying to be brave. You were terrified.

God and men knew why the statues of virgins were always portrayed as suffering. He wanted to run his fingers over your face, lick every salty tear, and say more chilling things to you to make you cry even more.

His hand rested on his lap and patted a couple of times.

"I know it hurts, stop being so stubborn."

You left your buttocks on his lap and placed both arms on your chest, covering your breasts. You were a mess, and you hated that you were crying, rivulets falling to the sockets of your collarbones. Jungkook focused on it, feeling thirsty as he cleaned the wound.

A hand rested on your bare waist to keep you from falling, calloused fingers unconsciously caressing the soft skin. Your back rose and fell with each whimper.

"I was kiddin', kid. For God's sake." He frowned, yet you continued. He grabbed the bottle again and grabbed your chin with his thumbs, long gulps of sheer force passing down your throat. "There ya' go. Stop the whining, now."

You coughed as you felt the alcohol melt your stomach with its heat.

"I hate you both. I wish I was dead."

"Me too, pumpkin."

The next step was to get into the bathtub. You closed your eyes as the heat engulfed your body, the steam cleaning your pits after crying your fill. You moaned softly as you snuggled into the soggy sheet.

On the other side was the father, sitting with both legs open while he slowly scrubbed the sponge with the soap. His hungry eyes were behind the whitish walls of hot steam.

"You're a virgin. Right, Father John?" Your light, sharp tongue asked, moving you closer to the edge of the tub.

His gaze went to yours, bold, fed up. He dropped the soap and poured water on your face and hair with an empty can of chickpeas. The slippery hair was easy to clench in his fist, the sponge in his hand rubbing circles on your back.

You pursed your lips as you felt the pressure you caused on him. Well, it looks like it was true.

"Don't you have a little girlfriend? It must be so lonely in this fucking town."

"I'll make you cry harder if you keep talking bullshit."

The foam was sliding down to your breasts, Jungkook tried to be as stoic as possible cleaning the area.

There was something quite submissive about him that brought out your worst thoughts. The worst part was that the alcohol made you dangerously flirtatious and you couldn't keep yourself in check. Not even when your life hung on it.

Between his long, slender fingers, over his broad back, and his soft, deadly voice.

You couldn't take it any longer as you moved closer to his body, the exact curve between his ear and his neck, and inhaled deeply. His hand under the water cleaning between your legs. You could feel his breathing become sharper.

"She gave it to you, right?" You sniffed closer. "You wear it to go see her, but now you have to bathe some shitty hippie you humiliated once in your teens."

"Shut up."

"Unlike your cowboy friend, you are a gentleman. You don't fuck 'em, then leave with your dick wet."

Jungkook chuckled. Silence.

He put the sponge on the bench and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt to his elbows.

"I think we're done." He smiled.

Your eyebrows furrowed as he kicked off his shoes and stepped into the tub next to you. A heavy hand rested on your face and you could only feel the water entering your lungs, the beat of your screams turning into bubbles among the grayish water.

Out. A gasp, your heart beating a mile an hour searching for air between the hardness of Jungkook's palm.

In. Your body arched, bound hands clawing at Jungkook's arm. The impenetrable darkness consumed you, the sound pressure of the water, the metallic taste in your throat.

Out.

Your purple face, swollen eyes, crimson lips.

"Breathe, breathe." His voice was soft, and his fingers went to your hair to support your weak body. You heard a metallic clinking sound, your eyes burning from the soap in the water. "Open your mouth."

His fingers separated your teeth to make way for his cock, the pulse of his veins massaging your lips. Jungkook hissed loudly, throwing his head back.

"Atta, girl. Open more, I know bitches like you can dislocate their fuckin' jaws."

Your eyelashes fluttered, looking for a way to look into his eyes and ask for mercy. But your eyes burned terribly and the saliva fell in streams from your mouth every time his cock came out and came back in with more force. You could only squeeze his wet pants and clumsily try to shake his thigh to make him realize you were choking.

"Mm."

"Don't trytta "mm" me. This is what you wanted."

For the first time, his cock came completely out of your mouth, drool falling into the water.

His arm supported your body and lifted your top out of the water, revealing how shiny and smooth your ass looked presented to him. The bottle of liquor was right next to you. You heard Jungkook take a gulp and how his forearm chained your neck so you could drink with him. For a few seconds, you resisted until you could do nothing but open your mouth or choke on alcohol.

"Shh, don't cry again." His fingers massaged your wet hair, his face pressed to yours as he slid his cock between your ass cheeks. "Such a crybaby. You're the one popping my cherry tonight, little buckle bunny. Ain't ya' happy?"

"I'm scared, please let me go." Your voice tore through your throat with torture, phlegm building up in your nose.

"No, can't." His cock found your entrance, the sting of the soap lubricating you, and the growl that came from Jungkook's chest made your body tense. "You need me, remember? If it was because of Park, you would have been dead a long time ago."

"I'm scared, please-"

"Shhh."

The lamps were going out little by little, leaving the shadows of Jungkook's body to engulf yours.

When your pussy began to make way and pulse around his cock, he felt sorry for not having done it sooner, for not having taken the first five dollars he stole from his father when he was fifteen and find a whore to fuck, for not having let Mandy, the daughter of his math teacher, suck him last year of school; of not having taken all the divine women in his church and instead of giving them the host, putting his cock in their mouth.

He thought about each and every one of them. He thought about Billie and the confessional, and fuck! How delicious it felt to have all your blood go to one place, leaving you dizzy and stupid like a farm animal in heat.

"Why don't we-" he moaned with tight lips, wetting his face to concentrate. "Why don't we pray, it'll make you feel better, make you less tight."

The lamps went out, leaving only one in the corner outlining Jungkook's profile. From his long oval nose, and swollen lips, from the dying steam.

So what if you said yes? If you intertwined your fingers while that monster attacked you. So what if you closed your eyes and tilted your head to Jungkook's lips to hear his spasmodic voice tell you to repeat after him.

"Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee," he whispered, and you repeated, drowning in tears.

"Blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus." You continued.

"Keep going."

The water began to splash out of the tub with each crash against your ass, his arm hugged your waist and your chest. Soft, wet kisses from your ear to your back.

“Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners…” You squealed as Jungkook trembled, his moans creating an ethereal song in the barn.

Between his babbling, he mentioned God, you, and all the curses he could think of. It was the birth of a Mephistopheles among the hay and the horses.

"Now and at the hour of our death. Amen." You sighed as you felt your body fall into the water on top of Jungkook's. Your head on his heaving chest, the pulsing pain inside you withering.

Jungkook's heart sounded like the pastures where your memories lie. The warmth of his hand holding you closer to him.

You were angry with yourself because your chest began to hurt and oh, how stupid you were, how stupid your mother had been for having raised you among pretty things and so many compliments.

"I brought you strawberry jam and milk for the night. Tomorrow I'll bring better things." He muttered, hot and his voice raspy.

And oh, how dumb you were for wanting him to wear the same perfume again when he came back.

#—📃: an ewe and the captive bolt #bts imagines #bts #bts smut #bts fanfic #jungkook smut #jungkook imagine #jungkook fanfic #bts jungkook #jungkook x oc #jungkook #jungkook x reader #bts x you #jungkook dark content #jimin bts #jimin fanfic #jimin imagine #jimin smut #jimin x reader

252 notes · View notes

spectres-n-soap · 11 months ago

Text

I Scream and Scream, Can You Hear Me? - Soap x Reader x Ghost

Content Warnings - Pregnancy Complications, Screaming, Angst central.

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

You spill your heart out and the tears don't stop. "I don't want to do this." You admit first, "I can't do this." Mrs. MacTavish stares at you, her mouth going dry as you go on. "He's supposed to be here. Not you." You look at Simon who looks like he was just struck by lightning. "Johnny is meant to be here and he isn't and it's eating me alive." You sob and grab at your head before she's pulling your hands back down.

"I didnae ken." She whispers and you shake your head as the tears roll down your face. Your stomach hurts and you can't even tell if it's from the baby or how much emotion is trying to drown you.

"I love him and every time I see your husbands and daughters eyes it's him. He's fucking everywhere but here with me." You yell and they exchange looks.

"You should lay down love." Simon mutters and places a hand on your upper arm. You practically snarl at him as you push his hand away.

"Don't touch me! I didn't even want you here but you forced yourself into my life."

"I'm just-"

"I don't care! I don't care. I don't care." You repeat. "Johnny is dead and I know that, you know that, everyone here fucking knows that! Yet here you are, trying to take his place."

"I'm not trying to take his place."

"Then why does it feel like it? Why did you sit in my office every fucking day waiting for me, to force me into letting you help? Because you wanted to take his place, that's why." You stand up quickly and yank yourself from Mrs. MacTavish's grip. "I didn't even want this fucking baby shower!" You rip down the decorations. "Take your presents back, I don't want them." You push a bag into Mr. MacTavish.

"If ye didnae want it then ye should have told us." Mr. MacTavish says and he doesn't even sound angry. Not even disappointed. Shocked and sad. You yank open the closet door and grab the box filled with mementos and his ashes.

"I can't take it." You storm into your bedroom and Simon tries to follow you with Johnny's parents right behind him but you slam the door and lock it. "Leave! I don't want to see any of you!"

"Love-" You slam your hand on the door and yell at him not to call you that. That you aren't his love. You're just some girl Johnny got pregnant before he died. Simon sighs and looks to the parents, Mrs. MacTavish hides her face in her husband's chest who holds her. Her body shakes with silent sobs. Simon's lips thin but he herds them out of the flat as he ignores the way his stomach keeps sinking.

You're lying in bed, stomach cramping as you cry into your soaked pillow. You're holding his bag of ashes close to your chest when the tears run out and your throat hurts from wailing. Everything hurts if you're honest with yourself. Your eyes, stomach, feet, throat. Your back of course. You lay on your side and stare at the wall, light from passing cars shine through the window and onto the wall is the only change. You can't recall crying like this when you found he died. Just a bitter numbness that consumed you. You want the numbness back. It's better than rage and sorrow and guilt.

It's better than being aware of this hole inside you.

Your phone was off, the battery had died hours ago and only now do you reach for the charger and plug it in. You hiss when your baby kicks at you. "Bugger off." You mutter as the screen lights up with the phone company's icon. It surprises you to only see a few texts from Johnny's family but Simon had made up for their lack of texts and calls. Your hand shakes as you enter your code and unlock your phone. Your thumb hovers over the messaging app before you quickly lock your phone again and toss it away.

You turn over onto your other side and shut your eyes

You cringed when you landed hard on the mat again. It did nothing to stop the throbbing in your head as you glared daggers into Gaz who grinned at you. Cheeky fucking bastard. He didn't need to say anything for the taunt to be loud and clear.

What's got your head in the clouds?

You glanced over at Soap who was currently using the weight rack with Ghost spotting him. His tank top was cut low and his sweat made it nearly see through. His grunts of effort made your head fuzzy. The confession you had whispered with kiss swollen lips also kept replaying in your head just as his cheeky smile lived in it.

"I ken."

"Come on." Gaz laughed and pulled you up. "If you're gonna keep ogling at Soap I don't wanna spar."

"I'm not ogling." You defended and Gaz rolled his eyes.

"Sure and I'm the queen of England." He laughed and you punched his arm.

"I'm not." You insisted and he shrugged.

"Then beat me like I know you can."

You sit up with a start, a scream tore through your throat as your nervous system fills with white hot pain. You grit your teeth as your stomach cramps over and over again, tears run down your cheeks as you curl in on yourself. You try to breathe through it but somehow it makes it worse. You reach for your phone, hands quivering but find nothing where it normally is. Then you remember tossing it away from the bed and you curse yourself.

Fighting through the pain, constantly reminding yourself of when you got shot in the arm and shoulder that one time, you crawl towards the edge of the bed. You can see your phone on the floor and you reach for it, barely able to touch it as you drag it closer. You unlock it with your fingerprint as a sob escapes you. You look at the contacts and for a moment, you consider calling Simon. You stare at his contact for just a second longer then dial 999. You struggle to talk to the operator between gritting your teeth and sobbing through the pain but manage to feed her the information she needs to send an ambulance.

You hear your apartment door shatter and for some reason, you think of the repair bill that you'll need to pay later as the medics rush to you. You can't hear them past the ringing in your ears or the pain that keeps everything drowned out whenever the ringing subsides for a few moments. Black dots swim in your vision as the medics talk to each other and then the world snaps to black.

The first thing you smell is the sterile scent of a hospital room and then the lights burn through your eyelids, you groan but can't find the strength to shield your eyes. Then you can hear.

"What happened?" A gruff voice asks.

"The doctor thinks stress has put more risk with the pregnancy. Did something happen yesterday? Something upsetting Mr. Riley?"

Tag list @h0n3y-l3m0n05

#john soap mactavish #john soap mctavish x reader #soap #call of duty #cod #john soap mctavish x you #ghost x reader #mw3 spoilers #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x soap x reader #soap x reader #cod mw3

197 notes · View notes

corazondebeskar-reads · 1 year ago

Text

the devil you don't know (or however it goes)

hunter/raider!Joel Miller x f!reader

Word Count: 4.7k

Summary: When Joel's men bring back the (adult) daughter of a rival group of hunters, he sees an opportunity.

Warnings: DARK, dub-con, Joel Miller is not a nice man, suspension bondage, abduction, captivity, themes of torture, mentions of past sexual abuse (not Joel), starvation, dehydration, a smidge of knifeplay, a pinch of bloodplay, seriously dead dove do not eat, ambiguous ending, reader has suicidal ideations because of anxiety and threat of imminent death, I mean it guys, this is somehow less depraved than the last raider!Joel but way darker, author makes up stuff about how garage doors work because google failed her but she's probably on a watchlist now so, canon-typical violence, gags, overnight bondage in an unsafe environment, reader's age isn't specified but she was an adult when the outbreak started

Prompts from this list by @absurdthirst.

also on ao3.

dividers by @saradika-graphics

Back in the before, in all the movies and books, when the damsel in distress or dashing hero was captured, they woke up clueless. Thinking they were home before it all settled in. They’d write off the pain as a hangover or a friend’s shitty couch.

That’s not how it happened for you.

When your consciousness first blinked back into the world, you were already having a panic attack. Your brain had registered the clues long before you were involved in the process.

Your cheeks are already streaked with tears before you can open your eyes. Your throat is dry and aching, and you can’t breathe.

Of course, you don’t realize it’s a panic attack at first. You just assume you’re dying. Here in this damp, cold… garage?

Recognition snaps you out of it. You’re still gasping, ragged, like you’re full of broken glass, but you’re alert enough to look around.

You’re alone. Small mercies. Or maybe not, given the way you’re tied up. Coarse rope forces your arms behind your back, wrapped from wrist to elbow. Your shoulders ache from being yanked backward, but the length has some slack, at least, between you and the bracket on the thick steel wall.

No. Not a wall. A door. You’re tethered to a huge door, inflexible accordion-style metal punctuated with heavy-duty brackets. No windows, no rotting wood. Impenetrable.

The door isn’t closed all the way, but it’s locked into place. Even if you got your hands free, it would take time and strength to remove the locks and open it enough to slip out.

The air coming through the bottom is chilly but fresh.

It helps. Focusing on the cold shushes the other alarms in your body. Enough to realize it's not just your arms that are tied.

There are loops of rope around your thighs, tethered to the same point as your hands, and loops around your ankles, which are attached to the side walls nearby. Both grant you enough slack to move a little but hold your legs wide enough to prevent standing.

Not that it matters, you think, as a door on the other side of the room swings open.

“Hey there, sweetheart,” croons a man as he steps through the frame, the soft twang plucking at your heartstrings.

No. No. “Miller.”

“I was surprised to see you, too. M’boys said they found one of your daddy’s people in our territory. Imagine my face when they dragged you in.”

“So let me go. You know he’ll come looking.”

“Will he? Lotta blood out there.”

“Not mine.”

“Oh, I know. I saw the way you carved up one of my guys. You got him good.” He almost sounds pleased. “But daddy doesn’t know that, does he?”

“He’ll still look for me.”

“You think he’s going to break our pact for you? He’s gonna risk facing me over a runaway?” He pauses. “Were you runnin’ to me?”

“No,” you snarl.

“But you are runnin', ain’tcha?”

“No,” you lie. “I just got lost. He’s waiting for me for dinner.” Part of that, at least, is true. You would have never intentionally crossed into Joel Miller’s land.

“Alright, I get it. Better the devil ya know, right?” he grins.

You glared over his shoulder, refusing to look at his stupid, smug face. That was why you had stayed these last few years. When supplies ran lower and lower and your father found other ways to keep his men loyal.

At the end of the day, you had food, water, and shelter.

As you look anywhere but Joel, you see what fills the industrial metal shelving along the walls. There are stacks of boxes of bullets. Pallets worth of bottled water and canned goods. Cases of dried pasta. A couple dirty mattresses are leaning against the back wall. Your stomach sinks.

He sees you taking in the stock. “Sorry, would have kept ya in the other one, where we usually have our… guests, but see, it’s a little messy right now.” He pulls a Dasani out of a case and brings it over, pressing it to your lips after pocketing the lid.

You rear your head back.

“What, you think it’s drugged or somethin’?” Joel takes a big swig out of the bottle, a drop rolling down his chin. He swipes it away with the folded cuff of his denim button-up. “Why would we waste any of the good stuff on you?”

He offers it back up to you, and you let him pour it in your mouth. When he takes it away, you spit it at him.

He sighs. “Wish you hadn’t done that,” he says and tips the bottle over your head. “But if that’s the way you’re gonna be, I’ll go.”

But he doesn’t leave. Not yet. First, he presses and holds the button on the wall and watches as the pulley cranks to life.

The machinery grates, gears crying for oil, and you flinch from the noise. You don’t realize what’s about to happen until it does. The ropes holding you aren’t that long, and as the garage door slides up, it lifts you with it.

You scream. “Stop, please, put me down.”

Joel shakes his head, disappointment exaggerated in his scowl. “Shoulda been good. Now ya know.”

He releases the button when the door is open. You’re hanging, now, with your arms pulled to their limit behind you. Your shoulders already burn. The loops around your thighs and ankles keep you balanced at the expense of spreading you wide. You jerk, trying to… what? Trying to get out? You know that wasn’t happening, not like this. All you were going to do was dislocate your shoulders.

The late summer breeze blows in, and you shiver. Your hair and shirt are soaked.

“Don’t worry,” Joel jerks his head to the dark house across the street. “Ain’t got neighbors.”

He goes to leave, and you can’t help it. “Don’t, please!”

He stops and turns around, head to the side like you’re a puzzle he wants to figure out. “You gonna shut up, or do I gotta take care of that?”

Blood drains from your face.

He comes over to you and pulls a filthy bandana from his pocket. He rolls it up and ducks behind you. You try to lock your jaw, but he digs his fingers into the hinges until you open a little. He presses the bandana into your mouth, yanking back on it, and tying it tight behind your head.

“Night,” he tips his head, flourishing a hand like a fucking cowboy in a Stetson, and leaves, closing the door behind him.

You don’t sleep, waiting for hungry dogs or Joel’s men to find you trussed up.

When he comes back in the morning, you’re a wreck. You survived the fucking apocalypse, but none of it could have prepared you for this. You’re blinking in and out of consciousness.

There’s nothing but the pain. You’re sure you would have cried or thrown up, but you’re so dehydrated now that you can’t even spare a tear. It’s not lost on you that you got into this situation by wasting water.

“Chilly in here,” he says by way of greeting, tugging the bandana off you.

You keep your eyes closed. Imagining his smug smirk is bad enough; you don’t need to see him see you like this.

“You shoulda worn a jacket, sweetheart.”

“Did,” you croak, and wish you hadn’t fallen for his bait.

“Ah, someone took it from ya? Must have been a nice one.”

It was. It was patched up and ugly, but so was everything in this world. And it was warm. Heavy denim with quilted down lining. The last thing you’d ever take from your father, you thought.

He walks around you. You’d stiffen if you could, but you’ve long been stuck, muscles given out.

“Alright, let’s get ya down.”

At least the dehydration saves you from the whimper you almost let out. But it’s silent, and if Joel notices anything, he doesn’t react.

He walks back over to the door and presses the button. “S’gonna hurt like a bitch,” he warns before the door jerks backward, click click clicking as it lowers. It’s slow, but when your legs touch the ground, you may as well have plummeted.

You scream, wrenching it from your haggard throat, hands balled into fists behind your back. When you’re fully on the ground, you collapse against the door, only sparing a wince when your head bounces against the jutting metal seam between panels.

“Deep breaths. You’ll be fine.” He crouches down in front of you, same ratty denim shirt and jeans, same scuffed up boots. “You ready to behave?”

You nod, barely moving, but he gets the message.

“Y’look thirsty.”

You crack your eyes open to peek at him but can’t. They roll back into your head, lids fluttering.

You’re vaguely aware that he leaves and comes back but have no idea how much time passes. He crouches back down in front of you, and you hear the crinkle of a decade-old plastic bottle.

“If I give you this, are you going to spit it at me again?”

“No,” you whisper.

“You gonna ask nicely?”

You squeeze your eyes shut, but your brain is mostly static, so you give up without much of a fuss. “Please.”

He hums his approval and brings the bottle to your lips. He only lets you take tiny sips, infinitesimal in the arid expanse of your mouth. He pulls it away far too soon, and a soft sob leaks from you in its absence.

“You can have more later. Don’t need you gettin’ sick all over my garage.”

He leaves.

When he comes back late into the evening, you’re asleep, but you startle awake when he turns the light on.

Your wide eyes follow him as he moves about the garage. When he finally approaches you, it’s to offer more water. You accept it immediately, opening your mouth for the bottle before it even reaches you.

“Learned your lesson, huh? Good girl.”

It’s accompanied by a sneer, but that doesn’t stop the way your pussy clenches for a minute. Given that you’re still fully clothed, he remains blessedly unaware.

“Can you just, like, shoot me now or whatever,” you mumble. You know you’re not leaving that garage. You’ve seen where he keeps the top supplies. You know which house this is—or at least, the numbers on the house across the street.

“Nah,” Joel says as if you’re discussing what to eat for dinner. He sits down in front of you, knees bent up, leaning on them with the arm holding the water bottle. “You’re gonna help me first.”

“Why would I help you if you’re going to kill me?”

“Because I’ll make it quick for ya.”

You think you might throw up the water.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he gestures at you with his loose hand, now grasping a closed switchblade. “You know how this goes. Seen your pops do it plenty, right?”

You nod.

“I don’t think you’re gonna make me, though,” Joel muses, and scratches his chin with the outside of the blade.

“I was running,” you blurt. “If I tell you everything, I swear, he’ll never know, I just want to—”

“‘Fraid not,” he says, shaking his head. “Nothin’ personal, sweetheart, just can’t trust ya.”

The way you’re staring at him with your pretty eyes, glistening with fear, makes him scowl harder. He flicks the blade open and watches as a tear escapes before you close your eyes.

“Promise?” you whisper.

“Promise what?”

“Promise you’ll make it quick, if I tell you everything.” You’re shaking, and realize you’re probably about to have another panic attack as your breathing grows shallow.

“Yeah, I promise,” he says. He stands up and watches you, the way you’re clenching your hands into fists and trying to breathe out of your mouth.

“Jesus. It’s not gonna happen right now, calm down.”

Before he leaves, he gives you more water.

You’re awake when he comes back the next morning. He sits in front of you, legs crossed, and sets a cloth full of dried meat between you, and another bottle of water.

He picks up a thick strip. It doesn’t look like the shit they used to sell at grocery stores. It looks like they’ve salted and dried their own fucking jerky.

You stare as he rips off a piece and eats it.

“What? Y’ain’t got pigs?”

You shake your head.

“Jesus,” he sighs. “Is there even anything to take, or am I wasting my fucking time?”

“Lots of guns,” you shrug. “Some food. Not like you’ve got.”

Guns were more than enough of a reason, and you both knew it. He ripped another piece off and held it to your lips.

You didn’t hesitate.

“Here’s how this is going to go,” he says while you chew. “I’m going to ask you a question. If I believe your answer, you can have somethin' to eat or drink. If I don’t believe you, that’s when things get tricky.” He opens the switchblade and sets it next to the water.

It takes hours, but true to your word, you tell him everything. The layout of the old campground your father took command over. Patrol schedules. Planned raids. Locations of guns, food, medicine, everything.

By the end of it, you’d had two sticks of the jerky and the whole bottle of water. You look more alive than you have in days, given that you’d been thoroughly lost for two before stumbling across his men on patrol.

“Why’d you feed me?” you ask when he stands to leave. “Aren’t you about to kill me?”

“No,” he says, rolling his eyes. “Gotta see if your information is good. Probably won’t even make a move for a week or so.”

You tense. “You promised. You promised you’d make it quick.”

“I promised I’d make it quick when I kill ya. If you told me everything. Can’t prove you did until it’s done.”

He doesn’t know what he expected you to do, but screaming was not it. It’s a wounded, rageful thing. He hates it. He stomps back over and covers your mouth, blade in hand. It presses against your cheek, and you hiss.

He pulls his hand away and watches the blood drip down your cheek. You don’t scream again, but there’s something in your eyes when you stare him down.

“Coward,” you whisper.

His hand wraps around your throat, pushing you against the garage door. He doesn’t remember kneeling down close to you, but that’s where he finds himself as he squeezes, bringing the knife up above his hand.

You aren’t struggling, yet, His grip isn’t that tight. Some air still leaks, and you laugh. “C’mon,” you taunt.

He lets go. You slump down a little, chest heaving. There’s blood dripping down from the small nick in your neck to your cleavage.

You watch him watch it. “Can you at least clean that up if you’re going to leave me here?”

He doesn’t know what possesses him. It has to be the unhinged look in your eyes, spreading to him like poison. He grabs your jaw in the hand with the blade and pushes your head to the side so he can lean down and lick the blood off your breast. You moan.

He spits it to the side, and turns your head back to look at him. Your lips are parted, pupils blown. “Fuckin’ hell,” he growls, leaning back, putting distance between him and your tits.

“C’mon,” you repeat, but this time, it’s heady.

“The fuck is wrong with you?” But he doesn’t wait for you to answer. He grabs your jaw again and kisses you. It’s not kind or soft. It’s all teeth and snarls and the knife against your cheek. But you kiss him back, because it pleases the ravaging wildfire of rage that lives in your chest. Fuels it.

He pulls back. “Shit," he mutters.

“You gonna fuck me or what?”

He lets go. Stands up. You think maybe he’s going to get his cock out, but he stalks over to the door. “Or what.”

He slams the door so he doesn’t have to hear you howl in fury after him, spitting insults.

He doesn’t come back the next day.

By the second morning, you’re starting to panic. You’re so thirsty. The last bottle had a few dregs in it, just a sip, but it's just out of reach. The only light you have is when it creeps in from the little gap between the garage door and the uneven concrete.

When he comes that evening, he’s ditched the denim. He’s got tight dark pants and a gray t-shirt on. You don’t look at him directly as he gives you water and more of the salty jerky.

He crouches down in front of you again. You’re getting tired of it. Of his stupid pretty face and this stupid garage. Your arms are numb, and the pounding in your head hasn’t gone away since the first day. You don’t even know how long you’ve been here anymore.

“Why’d you ask me to fuck you?" It’s less of a question than a statement, but you know he expects an answer.

“Dunno. Thought maybe you would.”

“I’m going to kill you. Your pussy ain’t going to change that.”

“Didn’t expect it to.”

“What, you a virgin or something? You trying to get fucked before you die?”

“Or something, yeah,” you mutter.

“Shit.” He can’t believe he’s considering this. It feels like crossing one of the few lines he hasn’t crossed.

It’s not lost on you. “Are you having a fuckin' moral dilemma about this? You’re gonna gut me, and you’re trying to figure out if it’d be fucked up to have sex with me?”

“Not gonna gut ya,” he says. “Said I’d make it quick, didn’t I?”

“Oh my god. That was so not the point.”

“Shut up. Look at me.”

You do. He’s holding the blade again. “I verified your information yesterday. We’re going to make our move tomorrow. I’ll be back by sundown. You still want this?”

It feels like he dumped the water on you again. You shiver. So that’s it. By this time tomorrow, you’ll be gone.

“Yes.”

“Fine. But we’re doin’ this my way.” He walks away, and you think he’s going back inside until he stops and presses the button.

You’re shocked enough that all you do is gasp when the door lifts, pulling you into the air. He stalks back over to you and holds the blade up. “Hold still.”

You’re hanging in the fucking air. What does he think you’re going to do? Fly away? But you hold your breath anyway while he slides the knife between your skin and clothes. When you’re bare to him, he drops the knife and grabs your waist.

“You done anything? Anyone ever make you come?”

You shake your head and murmur, “No, no one.”

When you look up at him, you’re surprised to see something almost soft behind his eyes. You glare. “What, is it going to make you feel less guilty if I have an orgasm?”

“What do I got to feel guilty for? You fuckin’ begged for it.”

“Then fuckin’ fuck me already,” you snap. Your arms hurt again. You want to fuck him, you want to land your fists against his stupid face, you want to not fucking die tomorrow.

But you can only have one of those things, so. “Please,” you say, and sigh.

He cups your breasts, stroking thumbs over your nipples. He leans over and licks, and you moan again, soft this time.

“Don’t,” you whisper. “Don’t gotta do that. Just fuck me.”

“Ain’t doin’ it for you,” he lies.

You don’t protest again, not after he takes a nipple in his mouth and sucks. He brings a hand to your cunt and thumbs your clit, sliding two fingers down to start working you open for him. He eases the first one in through your slick, and you whine.

“I’m not gonna be nice,” he says, panting a little. “It’s going to hurt.”

“Yeah,” you agree, watching as he stretches you open. Your legs are held so wide they ache, but it doesn’t stop your eyes from rolling back when he picks up speed.

He holds you tight when you come so your arms don’t jerk too hard. It’d be a shitty end to a shitty life, you think, to wait all day with dislocated shoulders for him to come home and slit your throat.

Finally, he pulls his cock out. A man of his word, he doesn’t go nice or slow. It does hurt. His cock is thick and long, and he makes it fit even as your body tries to reject him. He hooks his hands under your thighs, forcing you to put some of your body weight on him as he fucks up into you.

It takes the pressure off your arms, and you suspect maybe he's strong enough to fuck like this without the help from the ropes.

The burn is exactly what you wanted. It stings, and you cry, silent but for a few whimpers. He pulls another orgasm out of you with his clever fingers on your clit.

When he comes, he pulls you to him and sinks his teeth into the meat of your shoulder. You wail, but you also come again as he fills you.

You expect him to leave you there, dangling and dripping his spend. But when he lets go, it’s just to lower you back to the ground.

He tucks his soft cock away and zips up, staring down at you. You lay against the door, trying to catch your breath.

“What’d you mean by ‘or something’?” he says, surprising himself.

“S’nothin,” you sigh.

He sits down, offers you water. You drink and watch him, tense and untrusting.

“Was that the first time you’ve been fucked?”

“First time I ever wanted it,” you say.

His jaw ticks. “Answer one more question for me, ‘bout your father’s camp.” He waits until you meet his eyes. “If you’re strugglin’ for food, how’s he keeping all them happy?”

You flinch and look away.

He doesn’t need another answer.

You don’t expect to see him in the morning, so you’re startled when the door opens. He throws something on the floor, but you don’t have time to look before he’s crouched over you, knife in hand.

You had promised yourself you’d be brave and quiet when he came for you. But you thought you’d have time to prepare yourself, so when he brings it toward you, you flinch back and cry out. “Hold still,” he snaps. He doesn’t have time to wait for you to cooperate, so he holds your shoulder with one hand and slices through the rope with the other.

When he’s done, he jabs the knife in the direction of the pile of fabric by your foot. “Get up. Get dressed.”

You can’t stand. He huffs and pockets the knife, pulling you up. Your limbs barely move from the way they’ve been stuck, splotchy and limp from poor circulation. He helps you tug the flannel on and step into what must be a pair of his boxers.

He looks you over. “S’all I got.”

“Okay,” you say. You’re so confused. Between the pain, the hunger, the dehydration, and the fear, it’s a wonder you can string together a single thought.

“Let’s go,” he snaps as he heads for the door, like you were supposed to know already. When you get into the house, he grabs one arm and pushes you ahead of him, through a kitchen and living room and out another door.

Most of his men are in two vans, but Joel shoves you into a pickup truck. He buckles you in and waves a finger in your face. “You try anything, and it’ll take you days to bleed out.”

You just nod. You’re thinking now that he probably doesn’t want to kill you in his house. Blood all over the stockroom would be a pain in the ass.

At least you got to see sunshine again.

It’s not a long drive, but you keep your eyes closed. The autumn sun is weak, but you think you might cry as it brushes your skin.

Joel doesn’t say a word.

You don’t open your eyes until he parks. He hops out and comes to pull you out the other side, but when you see where you are, you panic and try to push him away.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he snaps. “Get out of the fucking truck.”

God. Everything you’d heard about him is true. Was he really this cruel? Monstrous enough to drag you back, to die here when you’d finally escaped?

Or—has he struck a deal? Is he going to give you back to your father?

You can’t breathe.

Joel crowds you against the truck, hands on your shoulders, and shakes you a little. “Snap out of it, I ain’t got time for this. Stick with me and keep your mouth shut.”

For a moment, neither of you move. You get control of your breathing and realize he hasn’t restrained you. He didn’t give you shoes, but you still know this land far better than he does. You told him all your father’s secrets, but not yours.

“Don’t,” he says. It’s the softest he’s spoken to you yet.

And, god help you, you nod.

Two of Joel’s men are struggling to hold your father when Joel drags you into the living room of the main cabin. He’s holding your wrists behind your back, his gun pressed into your side.

“Oh, thank god, honey, you’re okay,” your father says, but his face falls when he sees the gun. “C’mon, Miller, let her go. She’s not a part of this.”

“She is now,” Joel says. “Found her on my land. Ain’t that right?”

You want to close your eyes, want to ignore your part in this, want him to just fucking shoot already, but you can’t look away from your father’s face.

“I swear to god, Miller, if you laid a hand on her—”

“Like your men did?” He waits and doesn’t receive a response. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

“You know how it is,” your father says. He can’t read Joel, never could. “Everyone’s gotta contribute somehow. Keep morale up,” he plows forward, oblivious to the dangerous way Joel’s eyes have darkened. “Look, I can look past it. Whatever you did, she probably had it coming, for trespassing. We can call it even.”

Joel’s slow smirk is feral. He nods. For a moment, your father breathes with relief. But Joel isn’t looking at him.

His men move quick, and your father is on his knees in just seconds. They struggle to hold him down with hands on his shoulders, but he stops fighting when Joel lifts the gun away from you.

He doesn’t aim it at your father, who has to watch as Joel flips the gun in his hand and offers you the grip. He didn’t even notice that Joel had let you go.

You don’t say anything. You look at Joel for a moment, and your father watches you slowly move to take the handgun. He has the nerve to look relieved again, until you stop, holding it in both hands in front of you, looking at it.

“What are you doing? Shoot him!” your father says.

You look up at your father, grimacing against the bile rising in your throat.

You look at Joel again, gun heavy. You wonder what would happen if you let it drag down, out of your fingers, to the knotty pine panels that cover every surface. You wonder what would happen if you clasped your fingers around the weight of it and raised your arm to the left.

Joel’s men watch him, unsure. He holds up a hand and waits, watching the glow from the hearth dance across your face.

“Shoot them, you stupid girl, and get me out of here.”

Joel steps closer, puts his hands on your waist, and leans in. “Up to you, darlin’,” his hot breath against your ear.

You pull the trigger.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #dark!joel miller #raider!joel miller #hunter!joel miller #joel miller fic #the last of us fic #the last of us smut #dead dove do not eat #kinktober 2023

263 notes · View notes

the-s1lly-corner · 8 days ago

Text

Reader dying in front of them (crp edition 2/3)

I think I might do this prompt with a few other fandoms I write for but I can't promise which ones I'll do 💔

Characters: laughing jack, eyeless jack, nina the killer

Notes: reader was gn, non specific and specific scenarios depending on the character, short post, no happy endings, accidental murders on their parts

CWs: wounds and death, eyeless jack eats you during one of his blind frenzies, mentions of decomposition

LAUGHING JACK

the odds of him accidentally hurting you are not zero. as are the odds of him accidentally breaking your body. not only is he large, but hes also strong. and he tends to forget how fragile humans can be in the worst of times... so when hes playing around with you and you suddenly let out a broken gasp during it... he doesnt immediately stop- after all you both play rough all the time so why would this be any different...?

he thinks youre pulling his leg when you cant get up or when you wince and whine in pain when he tries to pull you to your feet. amusement turns into concern, and concern turns into fear and dread... and then to anger- anger at... you... himself... everything. youre dying and youre going to leave him behind- alone again

he... as morbid as it is he keeps your body even as it rots and decays

EYELESS JACK

its a blood bath. by the time he comes to your body is already broken- by his own hand (and jaw) no less- he had tried to get you to go off somewhere until he had satisfied his hunger but one thing turned into another... and before either of you knew it his mind blanked out and...

hes not sure if you being just barely alive when he comes to would be better or worse. hes not sure he would be able to see the terror and pain in your eyes when you still had life mingling with it. and god... there is so much guilt, that hes going to carry with him for the rest of his life

he feels he should have tried harder to deter you from pursuing him- denied you when you made your advances to enter his life and become his companion- and lover- he feels... he... never forgives himself and completely isolates himself going forward. one cannot get attached if they dont let it happen. hes learned his lesson

NINA THE KILLER

its so bold of you to assume shes not going to immediately tear down and destroy whoever roughed you up in the first place. shes not going to stop until theyre dead--- though.. this... leaves you to watch her fight while your body gives out on you.. assuming your killer doesnt somehow make an escape and live for another day... for now

in that case shes right at your side and trying to stop your wounds from bleeding you dry. pressing her hands to the openings- which only serve to make them bleed faster, perhaps even accidentally digging herself into the mess- its... rough. its not a good time for either of you

shes not afraid to show her despair and desperation right in front of you as the light leaves your eyes. she wants nothing more than to put on a smile and pretend that youre going to make it through this... but shes not dumb enough to give the two of you false hope

#creepypasta x reader #creepypasta x you #crp x reader #crp x you #laughing jack x reader #laughing jack x you #eyeless jack x reader #eyeless jack x you #nina the killer x reader #nina the killer x you #canon x reader #canon x you #x reader

25 notes · View notes

ravennaortiz · 7 months ago

Text

The Beginning

Chapter Summary: The passionate meeting and inevitable falling into love of Tig and you.

TW:Rough Sex, CNC if you squint, mention of knife/breath play. This is a more...tame part of the series.

As always my stories are 18+. This particular series has darker themes so adding Dead Dove Do Not Eat. The Rules chapter gives you a idea of what all you might find in this series!

Word Count: 1k+

"Jealous Tiggy?" chuckled Chibs as he followed his friends glare to where the prospect was talking to a woman. A woman the club had affectionately started calling Tigs favorite stripper and teasing him about the last few months. It wasn't like Tig to keep coming back to the same woman. He was a hit it and quit it kinda guy and he had most definitely hit it several times. Every time they were in town or even just passing through he had to stop and visit her. Hell he even took what he called vacation and would come to see her.

Tig simply rolled his eyes and growled at his friend’s remark. Is that what this feeling is? He thought to himself. Am I jealous that she is entertaining someone else. Her attention and body is not just for me? He felt a sharp pang in his chest and stomach as he watched her give the prospect a lap dance. No amount of beer would relieve his dry mouth or the lump in his throat as he watched her lead him into the back rooms. How could she betray me like this? He thought briefly before giving himself a mental shake. How could she betray me when she doesn’t know I love her?

“Love” whispered Tig to himself the beer bottle in his hand falling as he sat open mouthed at the thought. “What’s wrong?” inquired Chibs as he grabbed napkins and sopped up the pooling beer as he glanced at Tig. “Love” repeated Tig a bit louder as he turned to his friend. “Love what? Strippers? I know that” laughed Chibs as he shook his head. “No brother I think I’m in love with her or I’m having a heart attack. Not sure which” replied Tig as he stood up and started to make his way to the back rooms. “Where ya going?” called Chibs as he watched Tig disappear.

“Where is he going?” inquired Juice as he took Tigs empty seat. “Honestly not sure. He thinks he is either having a heart attack or is in love” replied Chibs with a sigh and shrug of his shoulders. “I mean I lean more towards heart attack with his age, lack of cardio and unhealthy lifestyle” stated Juice as he sipped his beer. “But who does he think he is in love with?”

“Miss favorite stripper I think. He saw the prospect chatting her up, getting a dance then disappearing into the back and kinda spiraled” replied Chibs. Juice snorted as he sat his beer down. “Pretty sure there is a song about being in love with a stripper” he replied as Chibs chuckled. “Looks like the prospect lost” stated Chibs as he nodded towards the pouting young man coming to their table still fixing up his pants and belt.

“Tigs a dick. Like a serious fucking asshole and I don’t care if he is my sponsor” grumbled Half-Sack as he slumped in the empty chair next to Chibs as the other two men chuckled. “What happened?” asked Chibs as he pushed a beer towards the kid. “Grabbed me by the neck right as I was getting ready to slide home and tossed me to the ground. Going on about how I need two nuts to get on this ride then he slid himself in and started fucking her. His asshole was staring at me as I lay cock and ball out on the ground” snapped Half-Sack slamming the beer back before crossing his arms and pouting.

“I truly don’t know where to begin” laughed Juice as he doubled over tears falling from laughing so hard. “The slide home comment, the two balls one or you seeing the inside of Tig”. Chibs tried his best not to laugh and keep a straight face. “I think we may be bringing home more than memories this trip” he stated as he shook his head.

All you could do was take what Tig was offering you. You could not only hear but feel his anger as he puncated each word with a slam of his hips into your. The force sending your face farther into the couch. The rough fabric of the couch scratching your face and forcing its way between your lips making you gag at the taste. “Stupid.Whore.Fucking.Trying.To. Cheat. Am. I.Not.Good.Enough. For.You. Slut.” Growled Tig as he slammed his cock deep within you. His fingertips digging into your hips already starting to leave bruises. Your muffled moans and the way your body gripped him tighter spurred him on. Keeping up a pace that had your legs giving out from under you making him slip out. Growling he grabbed your hair in his fist as you gasped for air. Your mascara was running down your cheeks and your lipstick was smeared and drool shined on your chin.

“Wait” you pleaded as he dragged you onto the couch as you grabbed at his hands. “Not a safe word” snapped Tig as he grabbed your arms pinning them above your head as he hovered over you letting his weight rest just enough. His icy eyes bore into yours for a moment before he moved his hands to your throat as he slid back into your slick heat. He watched as your eyes widened and you grabbed his arms. Your mouth falling open into a silent O as you came undone around his cock. The amount of pleasure had you floating on air and your vision tunneling. When your eyes fluttered shut Tig released his grp on your neck and let your body milk his release from him. Once he was empty and panting he delivered a sharp slap to your cheek rousing you.

“There’s my kitten. You took that so well doll” he soothed as he caressed your cheek as you lazily smiled up at him. “What was that about Tiger?” you inquired as you gazed up at him as he pulled himself from you making you frown slightly at the loss. “I love you. I knew from the moment you asked to ride my knife that first time we hooked up that I needed you. You are the yin to my yang type shit. I want to get married and I want you to come with me to Charming” spewed Tig quickly as he kept his eyes on yours.

You were silent for a couple minutes as you just stared at him. No man had ever said those words to you before. “Tig…. I….” you started unable to get any coherent thoughts to come out. “I know kitten it’s a lot. I’m sorry to spring it on you like this. I’m sure this could have been a more romantic proposal but I’m a spur of the moment guy.” Explained Tig as he sat back pulling you onto his lap. “Please. Give me a chance. Just come home with me to Charming and we can figure out the rest. I need you” begged Tig as he held you tightly to him. “Yes” you whispered as you nodded a smile forming on your lips.

The End

Return to Series Masterlist

#sons of anarchy #ravennasmasterlist #RavennasTalesOfSeries #soa fanfiction #fanfiction #sons of anarchy fanfiction #sons of anarchy fanfic #sons of anarchy smut #alexander tig trager #tig trager #tig trager smut #tig trager fanfiction #tig trager fanfic #dead dove do not eat #tw breath play

63 notes · View notes

ellethespaceunicorn · 1 year ago

Text

Daddy Knows Best, Part IV

Title: Daddy Knows Best, Part IV

Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI

Pairing: StepDad!August Walker x StepDaughter!Reader

Fandom: Mission: Impossible - Fallout

Word Count: 3.3K

Summary: August Walker and your father were once friends. One mission, a single decision, made them enemies. August decides he needs to get his revenge. And what better way, than to become your new Daddy?

Chapter Summary: Daddy and Babydoll deal with the police, and attempt to move on after the tragedy.

Warnings: pet names (Daddy, Babydoll, babygirl), age gap (the reader is 18, August is in his late-30s), loss of a parent (mother), police interrogation, Dom/sub vibes, unprotected p-in-v sex, creampie, dead dove: do not eat

A/N: This is different from my usual fics. This would be considered dark!fic in every way possible. If you read the warnings and still choose to read, you are making your own decision. No one is forcing you to read this. This is an entirely self-indulgent therapeutic fic. Enjoy! Unbeta’d, we die like people who tried their best.

Dividers by: @saradika

Support/Reblog banner by me

Cover Art by me

Series Masterlist

My Masterlist

You wake in your bedroom, the early afternoon sun shining through the curtains. You roll over on your side and expect to see Daddy but he’s not in the room. Deciding to take a shower and start the day, you rise and undress.

As you wash yourself, you are suddenly hit with an overwhelming feeling of emptiness and loss. For a few moments, you were free. And then you remembered.

Mommy’s dead.

You saw her lifeless body floating in the swimming pool. That vision will probably never leave your brain. The last memory of your mother is of seeing her face down. The crystal-clear water of the pool marred with the sight of her.

Even though you had a rough relationship with her, you still mourn the loss of your mother. With your dad out of the picture, you only had one parent in your life. And now she has been taken away from you.

The water in the shower had gone a bit cold so you rinse yourself off and grab your towel to dry yourself. You dress in a black crop top with a sleeveless black plaid A-line dress on top of it. Pulling on some black thigh-high stockings and a pair of black platform Mary Janes, you embody the look of the mournful daughter.

You look over yourself in the mirror and try smiling at yourself. Instead, a few fat tears roll down your cheeks and you let them fall before giving up on trying to fake happiness. Wiping your face, you settle for going to find Daddy.

Once you leave your bedroom, you walk downstairs and are surprised to see that Daddy isn’t alone. Both men stand when you reach the bottom of the stairs, but the woman stays seated with a small smile on her face. Daddy holds out an arm for you to come join them.

“Come on over, don't be shy. This is Detective Marshall. He came to talk about what happened to your mother,” He nods at my words, “And this is Rachel, she’s a psychologist who works with Detective Marshall.”

I watch as Babydoll walks over and stands next to me, she greets our guests and then sits leaving space between us on the couch. That’s my good girl, don’t give them the chance to question our relationship. I sit down and gesture for Marshall to continue.

“I think I’d like to continue with you in private, if that’s alright Mr. Walker. Perhaps Rachel may speak with your stepdaughter?” Marshall suggests and I agree to his terms.

“Why don’t you take Rachel up to your room so you two can have a little chat?” I insist, patting Babydoll’s knee softly.

Once she nods, she and Rachel make their way upstairs and I hear the door to her bedroom shut. I look back to Marshall and he is scribbling in his little green notebook. His eyes are harder when our gazes meet.

“Just a few more questions and I will be out of your hair, Mr. Walker.”

“Please, call me August. Whatever I can do to help.” I lean forward with my elbows on my knees and my hands clasped together.

“I appreciate that, August. Uh, so you say that your stepdaughter was the first to see your girlfriend’s body. Where were you at this time?”

“I was bringing in my luggage from my car. I made it to the kitchen and noticed the open patio door. When I walked toward it, I heard her scream and caught her as she passed out. I saw her mother in the pool and realized that she wasn’t moving. After putting my stepdaughter in her bedroom, I called the police.” I kept my face neutral, but my eyes welled up a bit and I blinked away tears.

“So, you and your stepdaughter weren’t home when your girlfriend was killed. You two had been on a trip?”

“Yes. I had been on a trip for work, but my stepdaughter didn’t want to be here alone with her mother, so I brought her with me. Their relationship has been a bit strained since the divorce about a year ago. She misses her father and I, no matter how hard I try, am barely a substitute for him.” That’s it, play the role of a loving stepfather.

"You mentioned you work for the CIA, Special Activities. Is it safe for you to take your stepdaughter along on business trips in your line of work?”

“She was never in any danger. No one knew our location or that she was with me. The safe house we stayed in was discreet and out of the way. The only time she was left alone was this morning, and it was just for a couple of hours. I’m sure you understand I can’t divulge the details of my assignment. But you are more than welcome to check in with my superior, Erika Sloane.” I fish her card out of my wallet and hand it to Marshall.

“Thank you, August. As soon as Rachel is ready, we’ll be out of your way.”

No sooner do those words leave his mouth, than Rachel is coming down the stairs with Babydoll in tow. I notice the smiles on their faces and wonder what they got up to while they spoke. As they come back into the living room, Rachel stands next to Marshall and Babydoll stands near me.

“I think that’s everything. We’ll be in touch, August. Thank you for your time.” Marshall reaches out to shake my hand and he smiles at Babydoll.

For a split second, my face betrays me as I slightly scowl at him smiling at her. But in the same breath, I steady myself and look at Rachel before shaking her hand.

“If you need anything, don’t hesitate to call.” Rachel tilts her head at Babydoll and touches her shoulder.

I walk the detective and his partner out and once the door is closed, I turn and make my way back to the couch. My perfect little one sits with her leg under her, her big doe eyes settling on me.

“So, sweet girl, what did you and Rachel talk about?”

You took Rachel into your room and closed the door behind her. She looked around and smiled at the various photos and knickknacks you had scattered about the room. She sat on the edge of your bed and patted the space next to her. You sat down and she began to ask questions right away.

“So, you and your stepdad seem close. What was your relationship like with your mother?”

“My mom and I were never all that close. I was a lot closer with my Nanny, while she was here. Um, I guess I’m more of a Daddy’s girl. Mom was never satisfied with me, I don’t think. She always wanted me to be better. At sports, at school, at everything. She wasn’t my biggest fan. And then after the divorce, I felt even more distant from her. Dad was gone and I was left with her. Then August started dating Mom and it was weird in the beginning, but he ended up being a nice guy. And he listened to me, and he would stand up for me when Mom was on my case. I didn’t hate my mom. I just wished she liked me.” You looked away from Rachel to wipe a single tear that threatened to fall from your eye.

“Seems like August was your knight in shining armor.”

“Um, yeah. He cares about me. He cared about my mom too. He doesn’t treat me like a kid like Mom did. I don’t mean to make my mom seem all that bad. She was doing the best she could, I know that. She didn’t deserve what happened to her. I hope whoever did this to her rots in a jail cell forever. Sorry, I’m just angry and upset. My emotions have been a bit off the rails.”

“It’s perfectly normal to feel sad or livid or even bitter about death. With your relationship with your mother, I am not surprised your emotions are unsure of what to do. Sometimes, we might even feel like a weight is lifted off our shoulders when a certain person in our life is gone. Nothing of what you’re feeling is wrong.” Rachel tilted her head at you and smiled.

“Thanks.” You returned the smile and went back to fiddling with the hem of your dress.

"Do you feel safe here with August? I only ask as a precaution. Having you in a place where you feel safe is most important.” She put a hand over yours and you froze. What did she mean by that?

“I feel more than safe with him. He’s never given me a reason not to trust him.” You suddenly felt defensive over August and you tried to keep yourself calm.

“Good. I’m glad you have him to help you through this trying time. But if you ever need to talk, or even if you just need someone to listen, you can call me.” She pulled a business card out of her pocket and handed it to you.

“I don’t know if I’ll have anything to talk about but thank you.”

“Maybe something that you can’t talk to August about. Something that maybe only another woman would understand?”

“Oh. Ok. Um, I will let you know if anything comes up.” You stood and put the card on your desk and Rachel stood as well.

“Good. Any time, day or night. I’ll be available at that number. Use it whenever you need me. I think that’s all I need. Why don’t we go and rejoin the others?” Rachel went to your bedroom door and let you walk out first.

You’re not quite sure about how to feel about your interaction, but at least you felt like you defended August well and even made a new friend. She seemed nice enough anyway.

After she tells me everything that she and Rachel talk about, I feel a bit more at ease. Less like the detective thinks I murdered her mother, but more like his partner thinks something is going on between me and Babydoll.

Which there is, but she doesn’t need to know that.

Even if she did know, it isn’t illegal. She’s 18, a consenting adult, and she’s well taken care of. Not that I need to explain myself to anyone.

“Babydoll, you know you can talk to me about anything, right? Anything at all. Daddy is here to listen and to keep you safe.”

“I know, Daddy. There is something...but, I don’t know.” She ducks her head and looks to the floor.

I put a finger under her chin, lifting it so she can look at me. “Anything, Babydoll. You ask and I’ll make sure it gets done right away.”

“Daddy, I...don’t want to live here anymore. All I can see around me is bad memories with Mom. Or old memories with...my father. And neither of them is in my life anymore. Does it make me a bad person that all I wanna do is move on? I feel weird even being in the living room, so close to where Mom died.” She plays with her fingers and looks down again.

“Let me make a few calls, Babydoll. I’ll see if we can be out of the house by week’s end, alright?”

“Thank you, Daddy. This means a lot.” She stands and wraps her arms around my neck in a tight embrace. I hug her back and lift her off the ground a bit and she giggles. The tuneful sound tickles my ears, and I am happy to be the cause of it.

I kiss her cheek and send her up to her room to deflate. In the next few hours, I have a house lined up for us on the nicer side of town. Three bedrooms, three baths, finished basement, big backyard with an in-ground pool. A perfect place to start a new life.

By the end of the week, we are finishing up moving all our stuff over to the new house. Other than a small crying fit that Babydoll has while she and I go through her parents’ belongings and decide what to keep and what to donate, the move was mostly hassle-free.

One morning after a run to clear my head, I was surprised to have a visit from Detective Marshall, and this time he only wanted to talk to me. I let him in and ask Babydoll to give us some privacy. We talk for a short while about moving from the old house and how Babydoll is doing. I ask him to cut to the chase and he nods and tells me Babydoll’s father’s body has been found.

He was discovered in a hotel room with substances in his system, along with a suicide note that included his confession to killing his ex-wife. At that bombshell, I’m visibly unnerved. Marshall reaches out a hand to my shoulder and apologizes for having to deliver this information.

He makes a sort-of backhanded comment that my former partner must not have liked that I took his place in his family. I responded by saying it wasn’t appropriate to make assumptions about dead men. Besides, as his ex-wife told me many times, they were rocky well before I stepped in. Marshall also stated that since Babydoll’s father had confessed to the murder this case was now officially closed, and we could go ahead with a burial ceremony.

I thanked him for relaying the news and escorted him to the front door. Before he left, he made sure I knew he would be keeping an eye on us. Seems the detective doesn’t trust me. I couldn’t care less, honestly. Let him try and pin this all on me.

I mean, he could pin it all on me if he wanted to do so. It's not like he would be wrong in doing so.

But I covered all my tracks and sealed them airtight. And with my record, they’d be ridiculous to come after me now that they have a confession and another dead body on their hands.

I wait until the detective drives off in his large black Ford F-Series, leave my sneakers at the door, and then make my way up to find Babydoll. I find her sprawled across the bed in the Master bedroom, sketching something in her notebook. Technically, this is my bedroom and hers is down the hall, but she sleeps with me most nights.

“What are you up to, Babydoll?” I ask, coming around the bed to sit next to her and peer into her notebook.

She shuts it before I can get a good look inside, “It’s a surprise, Daddy. You can’t see it yet.”

“Oh, I'm not allowed to see it yet, huh? Well, I guess Babydoll isn’t allowed to cum tonight then. How about that?”

Fuck, I loved to tease her. She always made the cutest little pouty faces.

“Daddy! No! Please may I cum tonight? I’ll do anything. Just, I was making you something special and I don’t wanna show you ‘til it’s finished. I don’t wanna ruin the surprise. Please?” There goes that little pouty lip of hers, it could make me agree to anything.

“Ok, fine, Babydoll. But you’re gonna cum when Daddy says to.”

“I can be a good girl for you, Daddy. I promise.”

“There’s my good girl,” I lay back against the pillows after I shuck my muscle tank, joggers, and socks, “Show me that sweet little pussy while Daddy gets his dick ready for you.” I take out my length and start to stroke it while she pulls her panties down, laying on her back so she can show me how she plays with herself.

Within minutes, her cunt is making those glorious squelching sounds I love so much while she fingers herself for me. I am beyond hard at this point and I am salivating just to get inside her.

“Come up here and lay back Babydoll. Let Daddy have his turn now.”

She removes her fingers from her wet snatch and slides next to me. I take off my boxers and my cock springs up and bounces against my abdomen. Leaning over her, I position my dick at her entrance and slowly slide in thanks to the wetness she has accumulated.

“Fuck, Babydoll, you are so tight. You feel so perfect around me.” I don’t stop until my balls are against her ass and our hips are flush together. I’ve molded this pussy to fit my shaft perfectly. Pulling out, I slam back in and am rewarded with her angelic little whimpers.

I don’t necessarily need to last long; I just need to make sure I get her to her peak before I reach mine. I find a steady rhythm thrusting in and out of her tight heat that has her keening in my ear. Her arms are around my neck and her legs are wrapped around my waist.

I can feel her core tightening around me, and I know she is close. Reaching a hand between us, I use my thumb to flick against her clit to push her over the edge. Her moans tell me everything I need to know.

“Cum for me, Babydoll. Soak my fucking dick, sweet baby.” Not even a second later, I feel the tell-tale signs of her orgasm as her folds flutter around me and the dam breaks loose. She screams out and I can’t help myself.

I fuck into her until I feel my balls draw up and then I slam into her heat one last time. I swear I was going to pull out and I almost did, but the warmth and the tight fit and my exhaustion from the run got the better of me. I came deep inside her as my cockhead sat against her cervix. I didn’t give a fuck about anything except the notion of her cunt holding me so perfectly as I blew my load.

The only sounds in the room were of us catching our breath.

Once I could move again, I lean up on my knees and pull back from where I collapsed on top of her. Holding her legs open, I let my length slip out. Soon, my massive load starts to rush out and I push all of it back inside her as she lazily smiles up at me. I smile at her then pull her into the bathroom with me to shower.

She’s barely able to stand in the shower and I mostly hold her steady. We both get clean enough and I help her dry off then dry myself off and we make it back to the bedroom and lay back down in bed. I tell myself it is best to talk to her now about all this instead of waiting and possibly upsetting her.

“Alright, Babydoll. Daddy just creampied you, I didn’t pull out this time. I came inside you. Now, in the morning, Daddy is gonna run and get you a plan B pill so that you don’t get pregnant. But I think it might be time that we get you on birth control so that Daddy doesn't have to worry about this kind of thing in the future.” I speak slowly and clearly so she knows that I have her best interest at heart.

“Ok, Daddy. Can we take a nap now? I’m exhausted.” She is already rolling over on her side and throwing an arm across my chest.

“Yeah, Babydoll, let’s take a nap.” I wrap my arm around her shoulder and kiss the top of her head.

I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t thinking of her tummy round and swollen with my kid and her tits heavy with milk. But I know that’s just emotion talking. As much as I want to get her pregnant, right now it is far too soon after everything with her parents.

Right?

Part V (coming soon)

A/N: I am so sorry this took so long to get out, loves. Anywho, hope you enjoyed this. I still have more in me, I think.

**Tag List**

@winterschildren8 @raccoon-eyed-rebel @viking-raider @devotedlythoughtfulanchor @livisss @randomweirdoss @brattymum96 @ambinxe @avengersfan25 @kebabgirl67 @astheskycries @enchantedbytomandhenry @rebelangel1102 @mrs-solo-walker [Let me know if you wanna be added (or removed) 😁]

183 notes · View notes

issa-pheonyx · 1 year ago

Text

Yandere-sub!Plaga!Krauser&Leon X Fem!Agent!Reader🔪🌶️

𝗛𝗼𝘄 𝘂𝗻𝗳𝗼𝗿𝘁𝘂𝗻𝗮𝘁𝗲 𝗶𝘁 𝗶𝘀 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗔𝘀𝗵𝗹𝗲𝘆…𝗻𝗼 𝘀𝗵𝗲 𝗶𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗱𝗲𝗮𝗱. 𝗦𝗵𝗲 𝗺𝗮𝗱𝗲 𝗶𝘁 𝘀𝗮𝗳𝗲𝗹𝘆, 𝗯𝘂𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗱𝗶𝗱𝗻'𝘁. 𝗬𝗼𝘂 𝘀𝗮𝗰𝗿𝗶𝗳𝗶𝗰𝗲𝗱 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿𝘀𝗲𝗹𝗳 𝘁𝗼 𝘀𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗹𝗶𝗳𝗲. 𝗡𝗼𝘄 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗜𝗹𝗹𝘂𝗺𝗶𝗻𝗮𝗱𝗼𝘀 𝗵𝗮𝘀 𝘁𝗮𝗸𝗲𝗻 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗵𝗼𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗴𝗲, 𝗯𝘂𝘁 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗼𝗻𝗹𝘆 𝗱𝗶𝗱 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘀𝗮𝗰𝗿𝗶𝗳𝗶𝗰𝗲𝗱 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿𝘀𝗲𝗹𝗳, 𝗯𝘂𝘁 𝗻𝗼𝘄 𝗳𝗲𝗲𝗹 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝗮 𝗳𝗮𝗶𝗹𝘂𝗿𝗲, 𝗯𝗲𝗰𝗮𝘂𝘀𝗲 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗼𝗻𝗹𝘆 𝗞𝗿𝗮𝘂𝘀𝗲𝗿 𝘀𝘂𝗰𝗰𝘂𝗺𝗯 𝘁𝗼 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗰𝘂𝗹𝘁 𝗟𝗲𝗼𝗻 𝗱𝗶𝗱 𝘁𝗼𝗼. 𝗬𝗲𝘁, 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝘆 𝗱𝗶𝗱 𝗮 𝗽𝗲𝗿𝘀𝘂𝗮𝘀𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝘁𝗼 𝗸𝗲𝗲𝗽 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗺𝘀𝗲𝗹𝘃𝗲𝘀~😈👀

▌│█║▌║▌║ L̳͈͉̅̊ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚v̸̵̝͙͆̈ͤę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ M̶̷̲̊ͥ͋͟ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ L̳͈͉̅̊ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚v̸̵̝͙͆̈ͤę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ M̶̷̲̊ͥ͋͟ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ L̳͈͉̅̊ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚v̸̵̝͙͆̈ͤę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ M̶̷̲̊ͥ͋͟ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ L̳͈͉̅̊ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚v̸̵̝͙͆̈ͤę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ M̶̷̲̊ͥ͋͟ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊ ║▌║▌║█│▌

"GET IN THE HELICOPTER, ASHLEY!!!" You yelled as you grab her hand to guide her in. You grab the handle of the door only for Ashley to stop you,"NO, (Y/N)!! We both can make it!" Her eyes teary eyed and her bottom lip quivered. "Ashley, your safety matters to me. Go tell your dad that it's been fun." You forced a smile as your throat had the dry lump you attempted to swallow. Ashley had to be pulled away by one of the crew inside. "NO NO NO!!! STOP-" The door was closed and you crotch down to avoid not getting slashed by the rotor blades. "Alli esta!" The villagers pointed at you and you just put your hands up, going down on your knees. "I surrender." You said, the villagers look at each other as they were stunned by you throwing in the towel like that

They all nodded and went up to you as they grab your wrist, putting them behind your back, and tied them. They all surround you like a pack of dogs. You expected them to kill you at any given time. Instead they walked you back to the church. Saddler was there,"Ah, well if it isn't the special agent. You may have saved the president's daughter, but to be a sacrificial lamb yourself is enough for us to finish the ceremony." You scoffed and one of the villagers behind you kicks your back making you fall forward eating shit

You were then picked up again and slammed on the table, Saddler towers above you by your side. "May the sacrifice...begin!" Everyone cheers as a masked bloody man came with a huge ax. You didn't give in fear-no reaction. 'I completed my mission. That's all that matters.' You closed your eyes and thought about the times you actually had a normal convo with Ashely. Just something normal with another person other than dealing monsters and the governments bullshit. A tear stream down your temple,'I'm sorry, Ashley. It was the only way for you to be safe. Like a little sister I never had.'

Opening your eyes you see the ax already at a good distance to your head. Then an arrow was shot through his head. "Krauser!?" Saddler exclaimed glaring at him. You quickly roll back off the table as the ax pierces the table causing it to collapse into pieces. Your first instinct was to jump out the window and roll. Saddler looks out the window,"Get the girl!" He yelled and you just smirked thinking you were going to make it out of there. Only to have a tendril grab your ankle pulling you down to the ground and dragging you. "What the hell!?" You try to grab your knife that was by the other ankle, but you were now being held upside down. Eye to eye with none other than-

"Leon!?" His eyes were red and his body paler-dead like to say with veins revealing. "Hello, agent~" He said. "Y-You're losing it, Leon." You couldn't believe your eyes to see him infected. The plaga has already took control of him. "I'm still me, (Y/N). Always have." He gets close to your face only to stop when Saddler calls him out,"Mr. Kennedy, I would highly advise that you bring her back. She will be of no use for you or Krauser." Leon gives him a look and gently puts you down,"If you want to keep her then try to."

Leon grabs your hand signaling you to run. Saddler angrily yells his name, but you both ignored him. You followed whatever Leon was leading you, you can worry about fighting him off later. Eventually, you both stayed in an abandoned shed that was neglected or used for any other junk from the villagers. "Why are you doing this?" You asked him. He smiles,"Because I like you." Your eyebrow furrow as you slowly back up to bump into the table that was in the middle of the room. "If you're going to kill me just fucking put me out of my misery. I'm tired of all of this."

You move around the table still backing up as Leon just follows you around with a creepy smile on his face,"Why would I? After everything we've been through? You can't just back away from that." Your cheeks blushed and stop,"I-I don't know what you're talking about." He giggles and walks close to you, bodies inches away from each other,"I can show you~" He kneels down, keeping eye contact, uses one hand to grip your leg, and the other free hand caressing your hip,"Please, agent. Please...just tell me what to do." You gulped at the sight. It's been one hell of a mission you couldn't catch a break. This was so tempting~

The door slams open as you whip your head up thinking the worst of Saddler, but it was Krauser. "Leon, you got hell to pay!!" He marches in, slamming the door behind him, and stays in position. However, Leon has an irritated look on his face hearing Krauser. You budge Leon to move and he didn't. He's got the death grip. "Get out, Krauser!" Leon yelled and Krauser witnesses the sight, seeing Leon knelt down having his head nuzzled against your leg

You didn't know what to do. It was an awkward moment with them bickering back and forth. Acting like toddlers. "How about you get off of her first!" "Go find someone else, Krauser!" "She's mine, not yours. I'm taking her!" "I'm not letting you take her to Saddler." "Who said I wanted to!?" Wait...they're not going to take you to Saddler. Is there some kind of arrangement going on? "The fuck am I doing here then!? Just do what you both have to do. I'm tired of this shit!"

Seriously, though you were so done. They both look at you wide eyed from your scary yell. That's when they both look at each other and then at you. The boys smirked and all of a sudden you were placed on the table. Confusion and concern triggered your fight or flight. Flight was the first on mind, but when you did Krauser had his arm locked under your pits,"Let me go!! LET ME GO-MMPH!?" Krauser grabbed your jaw to turn your head to kiss you. He was strong that for sure. Moving your legs wouldn't do shit since it was distinctly not hitting anyone. "(Y/N), it's okay. We don't want to hurt you." Leon said

After being able to pull away from that lil makeout session, you heavily breathed,"Hah, w-what-AH!!" Leon's tendrils coming from, assuming, his back went under your clothes making you squeal in disgust. It felt slimey and gross. Like slimey snakes slithering under your clothes roaming around. "You're scaring her, Leon." Krauser warned. "Shut up, I know what I'm doing." That's when your shirt lifts up, revealing your bra, pants and shoes removed. "H-Hey, what are you-NO!!" The tendrils rip your bra and underwear off easy revealing your bare chest and cunt. They boys look in awe judging from how quick Krauser was fondling your boobs making you gasp and Leon spreading the lips open down there

Krauser massages and firmly pinches your nipples, pulling them out as they bounce when the grip was loose from them,"Mmm~" The slimey shit from Leon's tendrils made your body glisten and easier for him to glide his hands on you. "Please, moan. I wanna know if I'm doing better than him." Krauser whispered in your ear and Leon glares at him and he kneels down. "L-Leon don't." You gasp when Krauser wraps his arms around your waist pulling you back, laying on top of him. He managed to pull down his pants as his cock was hard already, you sensed it behind your ass,"I'm not taking any chances. I'm going to make her cum first." Krauser said and he shuffles a bit now his dick was under you

It was...pretty big. Well, very appealing to say the least. Leon sees from down below as Krauser reaches for his hard on and rubs against your clit then down to the entrance, he bucks his hips making it push inside. "Ahh~" He starts thrusting into you making you moan and Krauser hum in pleasure. Your tits bounce from the impact of his pounding,"Oh fuck, Krauser! Ohhh~" Krauser start picking up the pace, but Leon's shadow towers both of you and he had his pants down revealing his dick leaking precum,"I'm going to make her feel good, Krauser." Krauser stops and laughs,"I don't think so comrade."

That's when you felt Leon's cock try to push his own inside of your pussy,"Wait, no!! Leon, he is big as it is. You can't fit-ooohh god!!~" He did it anyway. Leon and Krauser let out a moan feeling themselves stretching you more. "Holy shit!~" They said in unision. That's when they both start moving. Two big cocks inside of your cunt. The pleasure was amazing, but the pain of being stretched out was overwhelming. Tears stream down your temples as Krauser kisses your behind your neck,"Yes, yes, I'm doing much better right? Right, (Y/N), urgh fuck!"

Leon heavily pants as his hands was holding your legs open,"No, I am! Those are tears of joy for me, right, mmm god!~" The pain was going away now and all you felt was the wave of an orgasm coming,"Ahh, b-boys, please. Y-You're gonna, ah, make me cum. S-So hard!!" You pick your head up to look down seeing how they were both pounding you, this time more faster. It made your eyes roll back letting out a scream. Leon and Krauser both pull out cumming on top of your pussy, your juices splashing out. Krauser sits you up and he reaches down to finger your pussy and Leon rubs your clit fast side to side,"Cum for us. Cum for us, please!~"

Another wave of an orgasm hits you making you growl and your hips twitch, the squirts forcing itself out. They both reacted in a perverse manner like "Oh fuck yes" "Oh yeah, that felt good?" and now the three of you, taking a breather. Krauser has his arms wrapped around your waist holding you in place. Leon laying his head on your inner thigh caressing your other leg. "So, that is why, hah, you didn't kill me? I don't understand."

"We both agreed to take you in for Saddler, but we both secretly plotted your rescue. But, not until everyone is dead then we can go home." Leon explained causing you to be puzzled,"But, Leon you're infected. They will know." He looks up at you and smiles, his red eyes going back to blue and the veins disappearing-back to normal. "They won't." Krauser chuckles,"Same with me. Just more experienced than Leon, of course. In more ways than one~" Leon glares at Krauser and going back to his infected self again,"Alright then. Another round it is." "WHAT!?"

𝗧𝗵𝗮𝗻𝗸𝘀 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗴! 𝗜 𝗵𝗼𝗽𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗲𝗻𝗷𝗼𝘆𝗲𝗱 𝗶𝘁. 𝗠𝘆 𝘂𝗽𝗱𝗮𝘁𝗲𝘀 𝗱𝗼 𝘁𝗮𝗸𝗲 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝘁𝗶𝗺𝗲 𝗷𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝗮 𝗳𝗮𝗶𝗿 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴. 𝗦𝗹𝗲𝗲𝗽 𝘄𝗲𝗹𝗹~🖤🫣

219 notes · View notes

hamsternella · 1 year ago

Text

So wrong | [Sukuna]

cw: fem!reader, incest, non-con, Sukuna's a predator, he's pure evil, gaslighting, big Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, a lot of horrible things, pure angst (is that how you write it?), English is not my first language-sorry, MINORS DNI

Who knew hatred was so bitter and painful? An unbearable and confusing feeling; uncomfortable to the point of seeming like a rock in the shoe. It was the first time you felt so much hatred (but so much!) towards a person; and yet you were unable to even feel guilty about it. Sukuna had earned every right to be hated.

A horrible human. The incarnation of a devil, of some creature that had climbed from the underworld. How could a man as sweet as Jin have lived alone with a son like him? With an imbecile; a disgusting, repulsive, undesirable individual such as Sukuna was.

Your mother had warned you of the drawbacks in the Itadori family; but it never came to your mind that the bad third would be the brother of a boy like Yuuji - such a sweet and dedicated young man. A polite boy. And when you met Jin? What did your mother mean when she warned you before arriving at the family dinner? In your chest burned an emotion that wouldn't stop beating; about to explode, to burst with joy.

The warm lights of the restaurant, the hot food, the laughter; the affection of a new family, of a union so pure, so real.... The calm before the storm. The silence. The tension marked in Jin's gaze; your mother's frown as she looked behind you. Yuuji was coming back from the bathroom waving his voice in an animated greeting.

Suddenly a waiter turned the glass resting next to you, and you couldn't hide the animated smile as you faced him: his body falling dry on the seat; the scent of his cologne hitting you like a whip all over your face. The flash of light from the lamps through the window, across the street; the glow illuminating the wax that held his hair stiffly back, his locks fresh and shining. The light.

You hadn't even been able to separate your lips when a deep, shrill laugh interrupted the waiter's greeting. A black-nailed hand snatching the menu. The thud on the surface of the table like a slap. The thunder.

"What a shitty perfume for such a cute little girl, sis."

His eyes had not even left the menu when he insulted your perfume; much less did he speak to you for the duration of the dinner.

That had been your first meeting with Sukuna. Your stepbrother.

The first -and bad- impression of that first meeting was all that remained of Sukuna in your memory. Two months had passed since the dinner, and by then your mother came with the news of Jin's marriage proposal. You were overjoyed. That sweet man not only wrapped your mother's finger with a shiny, expensive ring; but he also showered her with flowers, gifts, and a visit where he wanted to tell you face to face of his purest wishes to have the two of you living with them, just as any family would.

Family.

You were unfamiliar with the idea. Of course, you had been living with your mother and that could be considered a family. She was all the family you could consider, honestly. But a father? A father and two brothers?

Even though your imagination was much faster than any other reaction; nothing stopped you from smiling and hugging Jin very tightly. Your mother was covering her face, moved to tears, and the truth is that at that moment you couldn't think of anything else. Not even in what all this implied; in how you would see him again. To live with him.

Your mother's happiness, the way her body trembled and her eyes sparkled as she connected with the gaze of her future husband, her man, was all you needed to ignore the knot in your stomach. A discomfort- An uncomfortable feeling. Not even the wedding date, moving preparations or your classes could tear it away from you.

And the day came.

You tried with all your might to stifle your nerves and the discomfort of having to face the inevitable when Jin parked in front of the house. It was already quite late; the sky darkening when the truck left after having deposited everything your mother had loaded into it.

She noticed your nerves, and one of her hands stopped you from setting foot inside the house. Jin left you both alone, taking the box from between your hands, giving you a sweet smile.

"Everything is going to be all right," your mother said. Her voice had the same effectiveness as a caress; the ones she used to give you to put you to sleep. Your heart calmed for a moment. "What is it that has you so distressed?"

"I keep thinking about Sukuna." Having admitted that took a weight off your mind, and you could sigh quietly as you noticed it. "And all this... I mean, I'm so happy for you. I can tell that you love Jin, that you adore him, and I love him very much too, and I'm grateful that he treats you the way you deserve..... I just think- I think I'm nervous."

You looked up from the floor. Your mother was smiling sweetly.

"It's normal for you to feel that way, honey. For both of us it's been a hard thing to take in.... For you it will be even more so." She let out a sigh, pulling her hand away from your back. "Jin and I have had our moments; we have built and will continue to work to improve this relationship. To keep this family."

Your mother looked up at the moon overhead. The porch lights illuminated her face. Her eyes, lost in the pale glow of the sky, seemed bathed in pure melancholy.

"Since your father... I-" Her voice faltered momentarily. "I felt guilty in the beginning. When Jin and I- When we both started. I know I shouldn't, because I'm a single woman and because this is all part of a process; and it's normal, and not bad. It's not a terrible thing..."

Your mother returned her gaze to your face; a couple of tears hanging from her eyes as she noticed the trembling of your lips.

"Mom..." you whispered.

"You are my greatest pride," she continued. "I tried my best to get ahead; to give you the life you deserve. And when I met him I felt so bad, (y/n).... Because for a moment I thought I was failing you. After all that we suffered- All that you suffered..... Jin treated me so well, like no other man had ever treated me; and when I saw the way he looked at you, the way he listened to you, and gave you all the things your father never could- that I could not..... Oh, God—"

You hugged your mother, drowning your tears in her chest. Her arms wrapped around your trembling body. Her voice trembled in your hair as you heard her speak.

"I just want you to be happy," she murmured between soft cries. "I want your eyes to sparkle so pretty, just like when you tell Jin about your day; or laugh so hard at Yuuji's jokes all the time... I want you to have the life your father took away from us; the happiness he tried so hard to destroy." Your mother broke away from you slightly to look you in the face. "I want you to have everything you deserve. I want you to be comfortable and happy with me... With us." Her smile planted a pleasant warmth in your chest. "I want us to be happy with our family."

"It's hard to take all this in," you admitted with a broken voice. "But I know it's not impossible. It hurts a little- All this family stuff, I mean. Dad always made it hard."

You closed your eyes for a few seconds as your mother stroked your cheek, brushing away a couple of tears.

"You've been my whole world, mom. Just you and me. The two of us against everything... I've seen you fight; I've grown up next to a warrior. And now that I see you so happy, with a man like Jin by your side... I think it's time to forget my fears- To forget dad." You stifled the last word in a sob, trying not to break down. "And it's hard, and I'm scared, and I feel like I'm back to being a little girl again... I feel like I want to cry and throw myself into your arms. But it's the fear of growing up, of facing a reality that has been a nightmare for me... The ghosts. And I want to see you happy, mom. I want to fight them for you, just the way you fought for me."

Your mother tilted her head, biting her lips to stifle her tears.

"I have been happy with everything you have given me; and I will continue to be happy if after so much pain, I can see you being happy too." You said smiling. "Because nothing could bring me as much happiness as your smile does, mom. And if it is my comfort that brings you happiness, I hope you know that it is because of you that I have been and will continue to be. Thanks to you, because you are an amazing mom. You are a woman who deserves the best. Is Jin the best? So be it, then." You hugged you mother again, very, very tightly. "It's what you deserve. That and a hell of a lot more."

The silence that had formed between you was barely interrupted by your mother's cries. It didn't take long for her to calm down and separate from you again, wiping her tears as best she could with her hands.

"Pay no attention to him." You let out a sound of confusion at your mother's words, and she laughed. "I'm talking about Sukuna. I know he's not... How should I put it? He's not very nice, and believe me Jin has been very worried too. But except for his complicated personality, Sukuna ends up being just as quiet a boy as you are." Your mother cleared her throat. "The three of them have had it complicated ever since that woman happened- the boys' mother. They each had their own way of dealing with it: Jin's the father, he had to get over the problem much quicker. To assimilate it. But his sons... Yuuji and Sukuna are trying to get through it as well as you are; and I want to think that maybe your presence in the house will help them heal. That the three of you can heal."

"That's sounds OK, I guess..."

"And if in the end he continues to behave this badly... Well, shit will always be shit." You both laughed. "Don't pay any attention to him. Don't let him ruin your stay."

Your mother squeezed your arm lovingly, smiling tenderly.

"I love you."

"I love you too, mom. You're the best."

She continued to smile, even as she entered the house. The door, now fully open, let out a blinding light and a distinctive smell: fresh, warm food. Your stomach growled as you stepped inside, closing the door behind you. Your mother's words still pounding in the back of your mind as you approached Yuuji.

Would Sukuna be a wounded boy terrified of life, just like you?

Since that talk you expected the worst. You prepared yourself mentally, ready to face Sukuna and everything else that could come your way... But nothing really terrible happened. The boy didn't even look at you all night, during dinner; and from that day on, life began to regain another level of simplicity and happiness that helped all your insecurities vanish.

Jin had a job that facilitated the family economy, and at his request your mother quit two of her three jobs. Now she was much more relaxed, and she had a wide and comfortable schedule to have a better work performance. You, on the other hand, improved your grades in school because you were no longer dependent on your part-time jobs; and you could focus on things other than debts, food costs or school supplies.

"Your duty is to enjoy life," Jin said one morning, before you left for school. "We adults take care of everything else."

Yuuji went out of his way to help you become a part of everything to do with the Itadori family. Now your family. He wanted to see you take part in everything: games, outings, family meals, idiotic bets, parties... Sometimes you would go to his room and stay up all night together to watch the idiotic bizarre love movies he loved so much. Yuuji had become more than a brother- a best friend, a confidant. A great companion.

And Sukuna...

According to Jin, Sukuna was finishing some distance learning courses at his university. As the news of the wedding and the arrival of his stepsister were the reasons his father put on the table to force him to come, the boy seemed to be in a 'bad mood'. There were many reasons.

It was true that you hadn't had a chance to talk to him properly. The first family night he was only there for dinner, leaving after dessert without saying a word. From then on it was all about 'Sukuna busy with his courses', or 'Sukuna too tired'. There was also the famous: 'Sukuna says he's not hungry', which Yuuji communicated to everyone as he came downstairs.

Your mother was right.

The boy seemed to be struggling with the reality of a new mom and, to top it off, a new sister. You could understand: it was hard for you too. It was not so easy to sit at the table, to face Jin or Yuuji; because sometimes you forgot, sometimes their displays of affection took you by surprise. Perhaps you had judged Sukuna too soon? Maybe the two of you had more in common than you had imagined, but you could understand that for some people it would be more difficult to assimilate a reality like this.

Your mother's words echoed in your head.

When dinner was over, having cleaned up and shared a moment in the living room as a family, you got up from the couch with a yawn. Jin turned to look at the clock on the wall and smiled.

"Well, we'll go to bed now," he said, winking at your mother. She laughed, and you felt your heart skip a beat. She looked beautiful smiling. "Yuuji, you don't forget to give me back the folder."

Yuuji covered his face, letting out a groan. "Sukuna got it! He was the one who needed it..." For a moment, and before he got up from the couch, an idea crossed your mind and slipped through your lips without thinking.

"I can go!" Your words were sudden; all eyes fell on you. You felt your face turn red for an instant. "I-I mean, I'd like to do it.... I haven't been able to talk to him... all this time."

Jin and your mother shared a glance. She seemed to understand something, and placing a hand on Yuuji's shoulder they both retreated upstairs. Jin and you were left alone. He approached, smiling.

"(y/n)," he began to speak softly. "Sukuna didn't say anything to you, did he?"

"Excuse me?"

"I know how my son can be, and I wouldn't want him to be making you do things. I mean, all this ridiculousness of his about not wanting to come over for lunch when you guys are over..... Please, I wouldn't want you to feel pressured into anything."

You were quick to raise both hands, trying to deny even with your head. You forced your tone to a firmer one. "Not at all! I haven't spoken to him; I've not even been able to see him. I understand how these things can be... It's hard for me, all of this, too." You rushed on as soon as Jin tilted his head to the side, curious. "I mean, this whole family thing. This new home. You know how it's been for my mother and me the last few years..."

Jin smiled sadly. He nodded as a sigh escaped him; the aroma of the chocolates you all had been eating hit your face softly, and you couldn't help but breathe, feeling relaxed. 'Mint,' you thought.

"Sukuna doesn't... I mean, of course he must be having a hard time," he corrected himself. "But he's not at all like you, my dear. Your mother is a wonderful person. She's... She's beautiful. And she's raised someone just as wonderful as she is." His look made you shiver, and a pleasant warmth surrounded your heart. When was the last time your father gave you such a look? A look of full pride, the kind fathers give their children. "I haven't been able to give that same effort so he wouldn't end up like this."

"Don't say that! You're amazing, really... You are great, Jin! You haven't failed at anything; you've worked hard and that's why you've managed to have the family you deserve. That's why you've met a woman like my mother." You tried to give the best of your smile, and Jin couldn't help a couple of tears in her eyes. "I want to be part of this family, and that means understanding and accepting. That makes family. And Sukuna is my family too."

Jin hugged you tightly and you returned that gesture. It was the first time you received such a hug. From your family—from your dad. You couldn't tell Jin that; but he should understand how important this moment was for you, because during the hug he rubbed your back before separating.

"I'm sure Sukuna needs time," you told him in a hoarse whisper. You didn't want to cry in front of him. "And I want to be there for him."

As a good sister should.

Jin went to his room giving you a last greeting, and you went shortly after but in the direction of Sukuna's room. His door appeared in front of you seconds later. You tried to swallow all the fears; the bitter insecurities and doubts that were beginning to echo in the back of your mind. For a moment something inside you snapped. Maybe it was too late? Maybe it was better to come back in the morning, when everyone was awake. Were you afraid to be alone with Sukuna?

When you decided to turn around to go back to your room, the movement of the doorknob in front of you left you frozen in place. His gaze hovered over your body. His eyes for an instant shone with strangeness, and seconds later with a strange feeling that you couldn't understand; but it kept your senses alert.

"Can't find the bathroom?"

His voice brought you back to reality.

"Jin needs the folder," you quickly replied. "Yuuji said you have it..."

"Oh. Yeah, sure." Sukuna moved from the door a little, his gaze darting down the hallway before falling on you again. "After you, little one."

"A-Ah, wait—I mean, I can wait here—"

"I don't know where it is. I prefer if you can wait inside... I don't bite, come on." A crooked smile crept across his face. "It's your house now; I'm your family."

'Family'. The sweet word that made you feel warm and welcome when someone said it, now made you cringe coming from him. There was something in the tone with which he pronounced it that didn't seem natural. He chewed it and spat it out; he didn't taste it, he didn't enjoy the concept. Sukuna didn't believe a bit of what he just said and you knew it. So did he. You both knew it. Yet you went into his room. The sound of the door being closed... the latch being set.

Sukuna locked the door.

"Get comfortable," he whispered in your ear. Hot breath ruffling you as it wrapped around your neck. "You're the first woman to enter this sanctuary. Isn't that... romantic?" He laughed.

"I guess..." you tried to laugh as well, but you couldn't. It wasn't funny.

Sukuna began to rummage through books, papers and things he found. He clearly wasn't seeing anything; his eyes were still on you most of the time. His hands would randomly drop things at your feet, and you would recoil before they touched your sandals.

"I didn't imagine you so tall. You took me by surprise." His words forced you to stop looking at the floor. Suddenly you found him standing in front of you. In his hand a yellow folder with creased corners. "As tall as I am, which is nice. Most girls I know force me to look down..... Not that I don't like it, of course. It's fun when their necks creak as they try to catch my gaze—"

"That's the folder?"

It was not your intention to interrupt him, but something in the atmosphere was starting to become heavy and uncomfortable. The way his lips trembled confirmed one of your fears: he hadn't liked it when you didn't let him finish.

"Yeah... This one?"

As soon as you stretched out your arms, his hand dropped the folder on the floor. The smaller papers and some pictures flew out; scattering on the floor. Your gaze returned to his, and you noticed again the same crooked smile. Your face showed disgust, and it made him laugh.

"What's wrong with you?" Your question made him laugh even harder. You quickly dropped to your knees, reaching for the contents of the folder to tidy it up. "This was unnecessary..."

"But I can see you from above."

Your hands stopped. Suddenly there was silence. You let out a sigh, and shook your head gently upward, trying not to let the hatred drain from your eyes. Sukuna looked down—both hands in his pants pockets. And a bulge.

The erection pointed in front of your face, and when you wanted to pull away and stand up, Sukuna pushed you back to the ground. His leg forced you to fall into a sitting position; a sharp pain shooting through your thighs from the wrong move. Your groan made him sigh.

"Come on... Look at me," he whispered. You kept your eyes closed. Tears were beginning to sting behind your eyelids. "Look at me." He commanded.

"Please don't—" A squeak slipped past your lips as a much greater pain was born from your head; Sukuna's hand clutching at your hair, forcing you to open your eyes and arch your back. "Sukuna!"

"You're so fucking pretty, my God..." His free hand caressed your face. His eyes roamed your features with a ravenous hunger. "Ah... Look at those beautiful eyes... Why don't you cry some more for me?" he whispered, closer to your face. "Minutes ago you looked like you were about to."

"Sukuna," you began to beg between choked murmurs. Your throat felt tight. "Please let me go. This isn't fun. P-Please. I'm sorry-I'm not coming back here I swear—"

"Shh... Just open your mouth..."

You could no longer bear it. Sukuna's lips pressed against your cheek, and his tongue slowly ran across it to wipe away the trace of the first tears. A growl left his throat, and from yours a poor terrified moan escaped as you parted your lips. First one finger against your tongue; then another, caressing your teeth, the roof of your mouth.... Both trailed inside it, moistening to the knuckles with the hot saliva that began to fall softly toward his wrist.

And suddenly you bit them.

You sank your teeth in with all the force you could muster, immediately feeling the metallic taste of blood on your tongue. Sukuna jerked away; the emotion leaving his body in an instant.

"You...! Fuck!"

"Fuck you!"

"Shut up! Stupid bitch..."

Although your whole body was trembling and a nauseating feeling threatened your stomach, you stood up leaning on the furniture closest to you. You and Sukuna looked into each other's eyes for a moment.

"You need to get help," you started to say in a whisper. "This kind of attitude... Sukuna, this isn't right."

He let out a mocking laugh. You noticed his hands shaking as he tried to cover his bloody fingers.

"I feel you, okay? I've also had a hard time dealing with family shit and all.... If you need to talk I'm here. We're all here, and I'm sure—"

"Oh, my savior!" For a moment he feigned a finite voice, batting his eyelashes before snorting. "Come on, don't be ridiculous. All of a sudden you have a degree in psychology? I was touching you because I like you, idiot."

"That's not normal! God, Sukuna. Why—Why would you do this!"

"Because I want to break your pussy? My fucking God, I swear..." An awkward silence settled in the room. He looked up, searching your eyes. "Why are you suddenly acting like this? You came to my room in the middle of the night, alone... for a folder? Are you serious?"

"Why else would I come?" The assumption he was making out loud horrified you. "You're not thinking I wanted to...? Oh, God. No. No, no, no, no..."

"You've got to be kidding me."

"We are family!"

"No. We're not. You are not my fucking sister, so stop pretending or acting or whatever shit you're trying right now."

He was angry.

"All this time you've been seeing me like this?" You asked in surprise... and disgust.

"The first picture I ever saw of you.... I admit I had to masturbate several times; I didn't think you'd end up living here as my fucking 'sister'. But I did. I continued to see your ass even when I had to visualize you in a more wholesome way." Sukuna sighed in frustration. "Let's be honest, who cares? And you can't play the saint either."

"Excuse me? What the fuck do you mean by that."

"Your talks with your mother? 'Why Sukuna...', 'Oh, but Sukuna...', 'Oh, mom, why doesn't he...'." He smiled teasingly. "Come on... And then the skirts? The afternoons studying alone when Yuuji invited you to the library? All the fucking time with him and suddenly you want to be home alone. A door separating us."

"Look— Sukuna, hear me out, please."

Did this guy really think you were trying to seduce him? But you were family! And you didn't even want to start reminding yourself of the age difference.... For God's sake, you were a child next to him. This was crazy!

"I'm sorry if for a moment I gave you a different impression... I didn't mean to. Yeah? I'm... I'm sorry. Maybe we'd better talk it over with our parents. I'm sorry, I..." You were at a loss for words. You had nothing but fear inside you.

"Really, you're going to ruin everyone's party because of your own stupidity?" His question left you frozen. "Everyone warned you about me. Even your mother did, I'll stake my life on it. What do you think is going to happen if you open your mouth?"

"You just want to scare me. You say that to scare me. I don't believe you..."

"Ruining a family... Doesn't sound so bad, huh? It's inclusive fun," he said with a chuckle. "Who knew you'd be so cruel, 'sister'?"

For a moment your mother's smile crossed your mind. Then your father's face and you frowned. As you blinked, Sukuna's face was the one in front of you. He had approached you quickly. His voice was a whisper.

"It's okay, I get it. Desperate little girl discovers her slutty side and the lack of daddy makes her want to seek some warmth... I'm sorry. Maybe I jumped the gun. Was I too fast?" Fingers with dried blood caressed your cheek, and you closed your eyes, unable to pull away. "What do you want, huh? You don't have to be scared. You want a family? It's okay, maybe I can be a good big brother; maybe I can be more than that."

"Stop."

"Why, aren't you going to take charge? This is all your fault. Who started all this ridiculous theater of catching the mouse? And suddenly you got scared. Little girls get scared of everything all the time. Is that why you want a brother? You insist and insist... Do you need someone to protect you? Is that it?"

You pushed his hand away with one blow, feeling your face red with embarrassment. When you opened your eyes you expected a crooked smile; a brutal gesture, a laugh, something repetitive.... A look. Dark, hungry eyes. Heavy breathing. He was blushing. He was... Nasty. This was so wrong, and he was disgusting.

Silence.

And then his voice. Still a whisper.

"I want to fuck you so bad, (y/n)..."

"I have to go. I-I just..."

"All the things I would... You don't have an idea, really. You don't have a fucking idea of all the things I—"

"Sukuna?"

Yuuji's voice surprised you both. You and Sukuna shared a glance, and at that moment something inside you 'clicked'. It was strange. Suddenly the humiliation felt worse, and a shame washed over you like a shower of ice water. You felt dirty. Tired. Sore. Broken. What had just happened?

"I'm coming!" He turned, stretching out a hand. Your body shrank. You became so small that the world was too big. Everything was horrible. Sukuna's hand suddenly felt like the claw of a beast. "You should go to sleep. It's too late now. I'll take care of the folder."

Did you answer him? Did you say anything to him? Suddenly you had Yuuji in front of you; but he was so much like Sukuna, that another wave of repulsive shame swept over you, and then you found yourself in the middle of your room. You didn't turn on the lights, you didn't take off your clothes, you didn't even brush your teeth. You couldn't look at yourself in the mirror. You didn't want to.

You didn't sleep that night.

#female reader #fanfic #reader #reader insert #obssesion #sukuna #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu gojo #jjk angst #jjk #dead dove do not eat #dead dove fic #horror #non con #yuji itadori #jjk itadori #jujutsu itadori #anime

135 notes · View notes

gingiesworld · 1 year ago

Text

Love is Fickle

Final Part

Wanda Maximoff x GN! Reader

Warnings: Angst. Fluff. Tears. Death.

Taglist: @username23345 @fxckmiup @marvelogic @dark-hunter16 @moistblobfish

18+ MINORS DNI

It had been a couple of months since Y/N had been declared MIA and Steve had went to lead a search team. Wanda kept reading over the letters they had sent as Peggy remained inside Y/N's room. Only eating when Mrs Maximoff made her meals.

"He will bring them home Peggy." She reassured her friend/neighbour. "The both of them will be home safe."

"I don't know." She whispered as she looked up at the woman beside her. "I have this horrible feeling. I can't quite explain it but I can feel something terrible has happened." Mrs Maximoff just wrapped her arm around her as she cried. "I don't know what I'll do if I lost either of them."

The weeks wore on and still no word of the whereabouts of Y/N, not even a peep from Steve either.

"This is the last place we have to search before they are declared dead." Captain Rogers stated as the troops nodded.

"But what about their families. We're practically giving up." One spoke out as Steve sighed.

"I am the family of one of the missing troops. My kid is out there getting tortured or god knows what." He boomed. "But we all fight under the same flag, so that makes you guys their family too, and we will fight to bring our family home."

"Yes sir." They all answered in unison.

"Let's move out!" He boomed before he headed to his quarters to check his rifle. Hoping that this is the place they find Y/N. Looking at the picture of the three of them together on a family vacation before they started their senior year.

The troops travelled towards the enemy base, well if that is what you can call it. It was only a few huts surrounding a cave. Shots being fired as they infiltrated the base. Steve had one goal in mind and that was find and rescue Y/N. Not caring if he made it out alive himself.

When they made their way towards the cells, Steve's heart broke at the sight. He saw Y/N strung up with their wrists tied together. The tips of their toes barely scraping the concrete below them. The blood both dry and fresh covered their face and ruined uniform. Steve was fast to get his knife from his belt to cut them down with the help of another.

"They're still alive but barely." They informed Steve as he sighed in relief. There was time to save their kid.

"Let's get them home." He said as the troops got the remaining survivors and led them outside. "We need emergency evac." He spoke through the radio.

"5 minutes out to the rendevouz point." They replied as the troops fired their way through the base. Killing enemies in their way.

"I'm going to get you home Y/N." Steve muttered as he continued to power through. The survivors were placed on the chopper as the extraction team provided cover fire. Steve groaned when he felt a bullet rip through his back. Not thinking much of it as he watched Y/N get treated.

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

Days had passed since the rescue, the survivors were being flown home as was the bodies of the fallen. Peggy stood with Mrs Maximoff as they watched everyone get off the flight. Hoping to see both Y/N and Steve walk off arm in arm. When the troops had walked off, her heart dropped at the sight of Y/N being wheeled off the plane. Tubes and wires were attached to help them heal as a coffin followed moments later.

"I'm so sorry for your loss Mrs Rogers." One of the Lieutenants spoke as they handed Steve's medal of honour to her. She sobbed as she realised that she had lost the love of her life. She almost lost her child too.

"Come on." Mrs Maximoff pulled her with her. Following as Y/N was taken to the hospital on the base. "Y/N needs you."

Mrs Maximoff informed Wanda of Y/N's return and Captain Rogers death. She visited them a few times, her heart breaking as she watched the machines do the work for them. Hating not seeing their eyes gazing into her own.

As the weeks wore on, Peggy was trying her hardest to be strong for Y/N but was slowly falling apart. Until the moment Y/N woke up, she smiled as the tears fell from her face.

"My baby." She whispered as Y/N gave her a small smile.

"Where's dad?" They asked as she sighed, giving them a sad smile.

"He uh he led the extraction team to save you and your unit." She started nervously. "They found you after months of searching and he uh." She wiped her eyes. "He died. GSW to the back."

"No." Y/N shook their head as she ran her fingers through their matted long hair. "He can't be."

"I'm so sorry baby." She whispered as she hugged them.

"I'm so sorry mama." They cried. "It's my fault. He should have just left me there."

"He wouldn't have done that and you know it." Peggy told them as she cupped their face. "He was so proud of you and he just wanted you home safe. That was all he ever wanted." The two cried together as Y/N held onto her for dear life. "I love you so much baby."

Once the two had calmed down, Peggy went to get coffee as Wanda stood in the doorway. A gentle smile on her face as she watched Y/N look out of the window.

"Are you going to step in or stand there." Y/N stated emotionlessly.

"I missed you." Wanda told them as she sat beside them.

"Did you mean it?" They asked her as they finally looked at her. "When you said you love me. Did you mean it? I need you to mean it, because I only thought of the possibility of having a life with you. Marriage. Kids. Just the thought of you kept me going and I need you to mean it because I don't think I will survive if you didn't."

"I meant it then and I mean it now." Wanda told them. "I love you. I am in love with you Y/N. I mean it with my last breath." She caressed their face. "It's you and I forever."

"I love you so much Wanda. I always have." They whispered before Wanda kissed them with so much emotion. Everything she had wanted to tell them over time was poured into this one kiss. She was letting them know she will be by their side for the rest of their lives.

5 years later

Y/N stood nervously at the alter as Peggy smiled at them from her seat. Carol, one of their colleagues straightened out their suit with a reassuring smile.

"You will be fine." She told them as she fixed their tie. Y/N knew the moment they saw Wanda walk down the aisle that they were set for life. The love they felt for each other grew with each passing moment. The future set before them in the green irises of their love.

"Wanda, I have always known that it was always you and I until the very end. It just took you a little longer but I would wait lifetimes to be with you." Y/N smiled at her as they spoke. "I promise to spend the rest of my life making you as happy as you can be. Give you the family you crave and the happy ending you have always wanted. I love you Wanda Maximoff."

"I'm sorry that I didn't realise sooner that you were always the one for me." She spoke softly. "Everyone else knew but myself. I ignored everyone thinking they were just teasing me because we're best friends, but they knew that we were always meant to be. They knew that sooner or later, our paths would intertwine and I couldn't be happier than I am right now. I love you so much Y/N and I promise to love you more with each passing moment." The two sealed the moment with a loving kiss. Feeling like the only two people in the world.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #marvel #wanda x you #wanda x y/n #elizabeth olsen #wanda x reader #elizabeth olsen x reader #wanda maximoff x you #natasha romanoff

251 notes · View notes

xxcherrydevilxx · 5 months ago

Text

“For Her” 1/3

— Karlach x Fem!reader

— Warning: Angst, so much angst, some spoilers? Idk not really but just in case

— Summary: You would do anything for your beloved Karlach not to die from her infernal engine. She deserved the world, to be free, and gods you would give it to her. Selling your soul to a devil in exchange for her is nothing, you would do it every time for her, always for her. — Author's Note: This was supposed to be a one-shot, I have decided while writing that there is no way in hell that I could do all I want to do in one story. I am splitting it up into three parts! This is the first, the second being fluffy smut, and the third is the crescendo with you getting taken to the hells! I don’t know when those other two will be out, it could take a few weeks or more to get em just right! But fear not, they will happen.

— Word Count: 2.7k

The blood from Grotash’s corpse soaked into your robes, the sticky confirmation of the man’s death gave you a somber sense of accomplishment. However, for Karlach, it seemed only to ignite more rage and fear in her. Her ragged breathing drew you out of your dead stare at the mutilated body at your feet.

“My love?” you hesitantly called, noting the lashing of her tail and your companions moving a step back. You had never seen her so… angry before.

“So Gortash is nothing more than a pile of flesh?” she asked no one in particular. The toe of her boot kicked his head, as if willing for him to get back up, to make this mean something more.

You moved to lay a hand on her shoulder, to offer her some form of consolement, but she lurched from your grasp. The fire underneath her skin began to light and cast cruel shadows across her face, the temperature rising a degree.

“There's nothing, is there? I killed the bastard who ruined my life, and now my prize is to crawl into a corner and die.” her breathing hitched and the engine inside her flared with power as she let out a loud cry, her hands balling into fists.

“Am I fucking missing something?” she called, her lips pulling into a snarl to bare her fangs at you.

You.

Your heart, the warmth to your cold, the being who smiled at you with such adoration. The one you would do anything for, the one who was dealt a cruel fate.

“-I'm dying, I’m going to die,” her voice echoed off the palace walls. The flames curled and licked up her form, growing more intense as the seconds passed with tense stillness from everyone but Karlach.

“It’s- you won't, I refuse to allow it,” You immediately answered. Your voice caught and broke as you watched her feral eyes turn to you. The anger, the pain...

The eyes you stared into when you desired her compassion and love.

All of that was gone now, she was fully engrossed in her rage and suffering, and you couldn’t hate her for it.

“You can deny it all you want, soldier, but I'm dying, and you get to live.” Her lips turned up into a cruel smile, “And you- you get to watch the stars, warming your hands on the fire, dancing, eating, making fucking love- all of it, all of it,” she threw her hands up as if in defeat. The fire roared and her screams of anguish echoed off the walls. You gave her a helpless look, what could you do? What can you do to save her- to give her more time? Gods anything and you would do it, anything-

A deal. Karlach had finished her long, well deserved, tirade and told you that you could find her in camp later, once she had time to process. Your companions gave the both of you pitiful sad looks, some clasping their hand on your back as if a sign of moral support.

Your throat felt dry and scratchy, your eyes hot as if tears were about to overspill them. Your hands, still sticky with blood, clutched and let go of your robes as your mind worked frantically. Wyll was still by your side, waiting for you to speak, to ask for anything. That was always like him, caring for you and Karlach.

Your voice sounded pathetic in your ears. “Can you- can you keep an eye on her for me, I have to… I just-” You cut yourself off, taking in a ragged breath as you felt the tears slip down your face that must have been covered in gore.

“Of course, anything for you,” Wyll responded softly. Rubbing his calloused hand across your back. You felt more tears roll down your face and a guttural sound slip past your lips. It sounded so broken, you half thought it couldn’t have been your voice making such a sound. But when you felt Wyll pull you into a hug, a tight desperate hug, the sound which could only be described as heartbreak incarnate wretched itself from you yet again. You clung to Wyll, wailing like that until you could no longer produce tears, your fingers digging into his armor as if you could ground yourself with just action.

You didn’t tell Wyll where you were going, you knew he and the rest of your party would try to stop you... But they couldn’t stop you from doing this. No god, tadpole, or what-have-you could stop your feet from moving towards the only cure for your beloved you knew of. If she knew what you would do for her, the lengths you were willing to go to for her, she would yell at your idiocy, say it wasn’t worth it. To you she was all you had, were you not supposed to try everything in your power to save her? If only for her to live longer, even if it meant without you.

The door that you stood in front of seemed to whisper your deepest desires. Was it because you were at Sharess' Caress? Or because a devil who probably knew of your arrival was waiting ever so patiently for you to knock.

You rubbed your arm over your face, trying in a desperate attempt to seem more presentable. However, with the blood you tracked up the stairs and your puffy red eyes, all it did was further make you look desperate. Just what Raphael was hoping for.

You brought your hand up to knock, the door opening after one tentative hit on the oak wood. He waited there, a devilish smile as he leaned languidly on the door.

“Well, pet, this is a welcome surprise.” he purred, opening the door more to allow you inside. The luxury of the room still astounds you, the plush bedding, and the intricate rugs that soften your step.

“I see you are in dire need of counsel.” His eyes watched, and a brow quirked as he saw no one else follow you inside. “And you've come alone, my pet.” he smiled, flicking a wrist and making the door shut snugly behind you.

You stood in the middle of the extravagant room numbly, the blood on your shoes soaking the carpet. You watched the blood expand across the floors as prayers flashed through your mind, gods knew this was the only way, and yet…

“Even without that fiery tiefling of Zariel’s… How interesting,” He hummed, his voice almost beckoning you to spill your desires. You found your eyes looking at him, he had found himself a plush chair to lounge in while he waited for you to do what he had been wishing for. His long nails tapped on the arm of the chair, a knowing look in his eyes. The mention of Karlach made your heart constrict.

“Tell me, small pup, what you need to ask of me without your companion's knowledge..”

You bit the inside of your mouth, your eyes skirting away from the man who sat in front of you like a king waiting for a peasant to speak, to beg.

“I think you know,” Your voice, rough from sobbing, still held traces of venom. A click of the tongue from Raphael made you hunch your shoulders.

“I am here to make a deal, my soul- whatever you desire- for Karlach’s freedom,” you willed your stern glare to find its way back up to Raphael. He stared at you with a knowing gaze, the hint of a smirk curling his lips. His eyes found their way to his nails, examining them as if bored.

“Ah, love, how precious,” He cooed mockingly, his nails reflecting their sharp edge in the light. “Kneel,” he ordered, one long claw-like nail pointing to the ground for you to follow suit. Your knees buckled and you hit the blood-stained rugs, half aware of the small tendrils of pain shooting up your knees, you would have bruises come next sunrise.

If you saw the next sunrise.

But, if all things go well, Karlach would. She would see the next sunrise and the next for years to come. Warming herself in the rays. Safe, from Zariel… from her infernal engine… never alone again. If this is what it takes, kneeling in front of a devil and selling your soul to him, you would. You would do it a thousand times over.

“Zariel wouldn’t be happy with me, you know, I would be taking away her prized fighting dog.” Raphael talked, his tone dripping with the same condescending attitude you would expect of him. You had to press your palms into the ground to steady yourself. You wished you could jump him, dig your nails into his eyes, and hear the pop, to bite his neck out. Using you this way, using your love this way. But you were too tired, so tired…

So, so tired.

You wanted to sink into a bed, soft and filled with feathers. To hear the hum of your beloved, happy and content and safe, gods you wanted her to be safe. To be cherished, if not by you then someone else… But who were you fooling anyway? you didn’t deserve her… Not for a second. She was good, kind, beautiful - despite her years in literal hell. The only good thing to come from this cursed tadpole and doomed savior mission was meeting her, rescuing her, and getting to love her for all you were worth.

So you painted a smile on your face, your eyes as big as moons as you looked up at Raphael with what you expected would make him stutter in his condescension. There, you saw it, a flicker across his eyes, the stilling of the tapping.

“Why would Zariel mind if you brought her the crown?” You asked, a coyness edging itself into your voice. A lie, ruse, whatever you would call it. Yet Raphael didn’t know that if you played this right, and you would, gods you would.

A darkness shuddered past his eyes, and with it the candlelight flickered all around you, causing you to flinch.

“The crown is mine,” He hissed. Standing from his chair and stalking over to you, looking down at you with disdain. Your eyes widened, this time not in pleading but in panic. You brought up your hands, swaying on your knees as you bowed your head.

“Of course, I was foolish. my soul then?” you begged, cowering. He let out a sharp laugh pressing the toe of his boot underneath your chin, bringing your face harshly up to look at him where he stood above you.

“Not enough, pet, try again,” he commanded, his eyes boring into yours. You swore you could see the licks of flames in them, the hells itself reflecting. Perhaps even all the souls he stole before, screaming at you to flee.

But you couldn’t. Not now. Not ever.

“Use me as a dog, and I will do your bidding, bring you the crown, Zariel couldn’t lay a finger on you then,” you babbled, your voice high-pitched and wobbly. Were you losing in this battle of wits? How could you gain the upper hand? His foot had left your chin and was now digging itself into your upper thigh, making you hiss in pain as you looked down. Not a soul, not a crown…

“Gift me to her once I slay the absolute, a better fighter to trade,” You blurted, and the pain from his heel digging into you let up, ever so slightly.

“Think of it, she wouldn’t need Karlach if she had me,” you continued, sweat dripping down the side of your face. An idea flashed through your mind, so sick it wanted to make you gag. Horrible. Something you would regret ever speaking aloud.

Yet, if it promised her freedom…

“Gift her lover to Zariel, think of the everlasting pain it would put onto her, her cost of freedom being her first love at the mercy of Zariel,” It felt like bile on your tongue. The only saving grace was that you hoped she would find another, forget your love, and be happy again. Nevertheless, you hated the words that spewed from your mouth. You hated more the look of delight that washed over Raphael as he sauntered away from you to sit back down.

“Promising, very promising, my little pup,” you hung your head in shame, your vision cloudy as you pressed your hands hard into the floor to stop yourself from falling over in defeat.

Gods, what have you done?

“A deal, my pet, sign here.” fiery paper appeared in front of you, a quill dipped in blood-red ink- you hoped- alongside it. You shuddered, shaking your head ever so slightly.

“Do you not have to converse with Zariel?” you whimpered. Wishing to stall for time, if only to have a few more seconds of freedom. You wanted to run back to your camp, your home. To cling to Karlach, to cover her in kisses, thread your fingers through her hair, touch every bit of her. Sear it into your memory.

“Ah, no, I think this will suffice her…” he paused, licking his lips as he gave you another devilish smile “Only, and only if you do kill the absolute, the contract will then be activated. Her engine fixed, you whisked away to the hells.” he ran a hand through his hair, you could tell he felt smug about his idea, which was just your idea with extra padding.

But this gave you time, sweet precious time with Karlach. Before your lives were both broken by your decision… yet, the benefits far outweighed the cons. With a cringe, as you picked up the quill, you signed the dotted line. Your soul and body now belonged to Raphael, you just hoped you could keep your promise.

“Wonderful little mouse!” he clapped, whisking the contract through the air to bring it to him. He licked his lips as if this was the most tasty meal he had ever devoured, and you wanted to rip the contract to shreds, quick and fast.

“You can run along to your sweet if you would like,” he continued, bored of you already. He snapped his fingers and the contract and quill both disappeared. You were free to go now, yet as you left the far too beautiful devil’s den you swore you felt two axes hover over your neck. One, the ability to actually do the deal you signed on for… if you couldn’t make good on your promise, what then? There had to be loopholes, the contract wouldn’t be voided, and he would never allow that.

And the second, far more scarier, was if you made good on the promise. You could already feel the swift breeze of the proverbial ax as it loomed overhead. You ran a hand along your neck, feeling the sweat and grime build up. Your body was so tired, your mind had been pushed to its limit during the tense negotiation with Raphael, having to use every advantage you could think of. Now, you were signed off to one of the most notorious demons that lurked in the hell…

Zariel.

You shook slightly as you continued to stumble back to camp, holding yourself up by leaning into walls when you could. You felt sick, every part of you ached and you had hot flashes and chills a-plenty as you stumbled into camp. You wanted to curl up and wait for your freedom to slip.

“Ah, soldier, where have you- gods are you alright?” her voice…it sounded like church bells, a lover calling you inside, a harp being played in the heavens. Her arms encircled you, worry etching itself across her face the longer she gazes down at you. She smelt of brimstone, sweat, and a hint of sweetness.

She smelt like home.

Her arms, her lips, her beautiful eyes. Gods, you never would stare into those eyes again. You would never feel her strong assured arms-

“H-hey Karlach!” you let out a startled gasp. She had lifted you up, princess style, to carry your tired frame to her tent.

“Let me take care of you for tonight, you look like you've seen the hells,” she mumbled into your ear, brushing her lips across your temple before dipping the both of you into her closed-off tent.

You didn’t have the heart to tell her, you would see the hells soon enough. Because you traded yourself for her, groveled at the feet of a devil. You wouldn’t have it any other way.

#karlach #karlach x reader #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 wyll #karlach x tav

35 notes · View notes