#the bandages stay ON during sex! ����

[bandsandwristbands]

If I were Gaara i would also kiss myself in the mirror 🥵 Don't worry the mirror was just cleaned

[violant-apologia]

it's 3am that means its MARIAN ROMANCE CHART TIME

(art by waterlogged-detective!)

extra red flags: - rude - still hung up about a girl from thirty years ago - might prick you by accident - still wears her navy uniform from thirty years ago (it's SO ratty and also the only vaguely formal clothes she wears)

[aluraveil]

Lisa im having major braunrot about blade fucking Darling in his Mara struck state 👀

imagine how rough he would be <3.. im getting horny just thinking abt it 🥰

ooh yes anon!! blade would be extra possessive esp when the mara hits him!! plus his cock would be much thicker and harder.. poor darling. thank you for the food anon!!

~

𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐀 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐊𝐄𝐒..

Pairing: Blade x Female Reader (ft. Kafka)

TW: Yandere-ish?? Masterbation, lots of smut, vaginal penetration, bedroom activities basically. Everything is consensual here.

MINORS DNI. 18+ only.

~

Blade has time periods that occur every month due to being mara struck where he sorta becomes.. a completely different person. When he’s in the mara struck state, he becomes more.. insane for the lack of a better word.

He was already possessive of his darling before, but during this state, he becomes ten times if not more possessive. Blades mental state becomes more deranged and downright crazy. He’s more angry and more aggressive due to the painful memories that flash back to him. Blade also acts as if he’s in an animal in heat because of how horny he becomes. His cock becomes bigger and stretches out wider and the veins pop out more. His dick is flushing an angry shade of red and the tip is dripping out pre-cum. His cock is painfully erect and it always stretches through his boxers hence why there’s a large bulge forming in his pants.

Blade always has to deal with his.. problem by himself by sneaking off during a mission to hide in a private place such as a bathroom stall or just anywhere where there’s privacy for him and his horniness. He sits himself on his bed in the room that he’s currently staying in for a mission. What a pain, he grumbles as his bandaged hands quickly undo his belt and fumbles with his zipper. He shudders as his cock is finally freed from the confining place and he could almost cum from the feeling of the cold air hitting it. His hands work hastily as he masterbaits. He moans at how pleasurable it felt as his hands began moving up and down went faster and faster, until finally his dick splashes out thick ropes of cum and it squirts everywhere on his bed and dirties his pants. During his Mara struck state, his cum becomes more thick and the duration that it comes out becomes even longer. As for taste, it’s extra creamier and sweeter.

Kafka’s spirit whisper is able to help with some of the symptoms of his mara, such as utterly destroying his opponents, but she can’t do much about his.. hormones. Kafka tells him that her spirit whisper can be useful during missions but the best thing for him would be masterbation and having sex.

“Maybe Y/N could help you with it,” Kafka winks at Blade as she turns back to her magazine. Blade grumbles in pain as he leaves the Stellaron Hunter’s base as he makes the journey back to your shared home.

You weren’t aware about Blade’s tendencies due to the Mara quelling within him. But imagine to your surprise when you’re laying in your living room on the couch wearing one of your boyfriends shirts when Blade bursts the door of your shared home in hushed, raggedy breathes. His shirts covered in blood and his hair is slightly messy. When Blade sees you, he almost couldn’t restrain himself from pouncing on you. Fuck, you looked so gorgeous wearing his shirt and your scent smelled just like him. Blades thoughts were clouded with nothing but lust as he imagined the ways he wanted to ravage your body right then and there.

“Blade? What’s wrong?” You asked him with your eyes full of concern.

Blade’s breathing becomes shallow as his finger points to a certain place. “The mara.” Blade isn’t a man of many words, you were confused on what he meant until you look down and oh. You quickly catch on and realize he’s having another Mara flare up at that moment and he’s painfully horny.

“I can try my best.. and help if you would like- woah!”

You barely even finished your sentence before Blade lifted you up and rushed to your shared bedroom. He tosses you onto the mattress and he hurriedly rushes to undo his pants. You stare in awe as you look at how huge his cock had become. You could see the pre-cuz leaking out and how desperate it was for some friction. You and Blade have had sex many times in the past before, but the difference between now and then was big especially since this would be your first time having sex with him in his Mara struck state.

Blade’s bandaged hands begin to stroke himself and he groaned at the feeling. He quickly climbed on top of the mattress as he rushed to undo your clothing. Your shirt that you borrowed from him was quickly thrown and your laced panties were ripped off.

Blade immediately pounces on you and begins to push inch after inch of his cock into you. You cry out in pain because of how big and thick he is. Blade makes sure to savor every inch of your walls being wrapped around him and he groans at how tight you feel.

“M’gonna pound you,” He breathes out in rushed breathes as he begins to thrust in and out. “Gonna mark you up and make you mine..”

You moan at the feeling of Blade’s dick going in and out. It felt so good and you could feel every inch poking and prodding your insides. The bed began to shake as Blade started going rougher and rougher.

Unfortunately for you, Blades stamina is also increased a lot when he’s having a mara flare up. Which means that whenever you have sex with him during this, you can expect that he’s gonna be cumming inside you a lot and that you’re gonna be having rough sex for a couple of hours. You can also expect that from now on, you’ll be having sex with Blade during his mara flare up all the time since you so nicely volunteered to help him. You’re impressed and shocked with how Blade is able to have sex with you for such long periods of time and how hes able to bend and fold you in numerous positions as he thrusts in and out of your hole. At this point, know that you won’t be leaving the bedroom for at least a week every month.

After your first night of rough intercourse, Blade immediately reports back the good results to Kafka. She notices that whenever Blade is with you during his Mara flare ups, hes more calmer and hes able to control the Mara within him and keep himself more at bay. Meanwhile you’re laying on Blade’s lap with your clothed pussy is all used up and worn out from the abuse of his large cock while your arms, body, and neck are all covered in bite marks and hickeys. Blade has his arms wrapped around your waist as he rests his face on the side of your neck. He feels calmer now because his sweet girlfriend helped him.

Now imagine when you open the door to your shared home one day when you notice a pink present laying on top of your porch with a magenta ribbon. Curious, you open the box only to be greeted with a red laced lingerie set. Your face immediately heats up in embarrassment as you notice a note also placed inside the box.

“For Bladie’s next mara flare up ;)

-Kafka”

Your breath hitched as you feel a strong pair of arms wrap themselves around you. You realize it’s Blade as he nuzzled his face into your neck, then he notices the box you’re holding in his hand.

“Pretty.” He mumbles, “I want you to wear that for me.” You could feel his bulge start to harden as he grinds himself against your ass. “The mara is coming back..” Blade says with a hushed voice, “Be a good girl and help me.”

Well who were you to deny your boyfriend access? After all, you loved him a lot and you were of course willing to help him contain the Mara <3

~

[after-witch]

Sufferance [Yandere Chrollo x Reader]

Title: Sufferance [Yandere Chrollo x Reader]

Synopsis: Patience is a thread. Eventually, it snaps. You should have minded this with someone like Chrollo Lucilfer.

word count: 3000+

notes: yandere, kidnapped reader, rough noncon sex, sexual assault, degradation

You love books. You always have. As a child, you would curl up under your covers, flashlight in your mouth or propped up carefully with dirty laundry, reading page after page until you heard the creak of your mother’s footsteps in the hallway and had to flop down like a fish, pretending to be asleep. As a teen, you devoured books on the bus, in between classes, sometimes during classes much to your teacher’s irritation. 

Your love of reading led where it sometimes does as an adult--to the library. You were just an assistant--shelver, pamphlet folder, read-books-to-the-kids-every-Tuesday-morning--but it was enough for you to be in the building.It wasn’t a particularly lucrative job, and you had heard from friends and family time and time again that you really ought to go back to school and aim for something higher. Time and time again, you shook your head, smiling, and said you were happy to be there.

Now, you wish you had listened to them. You wish you had put in your 2 weeks notice and went back to school or hell, just quit and taken a job somewhere else. Anywhere else. Preferably in a backroom. A warehouse. Somewhere that wasn’t visible to the public and therefore visible to people like him.

Somewhere that didn’t have you sitting quietly behind a desk, processing books, double checking inventory, darting here and there to help patrons or put something back on the shelves. 

Because that is exactly how Chrollo Lucilfer found you.

You met him once… twice… three… four… five times at the library. At least, five times that you know of; thinking back, you wonder if he watched you secretly. He must have, to know so much about you. You push that thought away.

He left an impression, but how couldn’t he? He was handsome and rather intimidating, with a casually professional outfit and an intriguing bandage wrapped around his forehead. His voice was soft and polite, inquiring, curious. 

He came back a few times. Struck up a conversation. Helped you reach a tall shelf, a low shelf. Offered to carry a stack of books that you had to put away without the cart because it had gone missing. 

At first you appreciated another kind patron--but there was something about him that you didn’t like. Something which seemed to seep out of him as time went on.

Oh, you couldn't have pinpointed it if you’d been paid in solid gold. It was something innate. Something primal. Something deep in your gut that told you to stay away from him, like a rabbit catching a whiff of a predator in the woods.

So you started avoiding him as much as possible, running into the stock room whenever you saw him come in, pleading with a coworker that you weren’t feeling well and needed to swap out. You thought if you ignored him, he would leave you alone, move on. 

Chrollo, on the other hand--if his own words told to you later are to be believed--fell absolutely, maddeningly for you.

So he waited to see if you could come around (you didn’t) and he took matters into his own hands.

That is to say, he kidnapped you. 

You had asked him why, just the once. He shrugged and mentioned that he couldn’t stay in this town forever, and he had to take you before he left. If he didn’t have to go, perhaps he might have tried to court you, but ah, it simply couldn’t be helped.

“Couldn’t be helped.” That’s what he said. It couldn’t be helped that he stole you from your life, your friends, your family. It couldn’t be helped that he stole you. Took you away from everything you’ve known and has decided to keep you with him. Like a pet--no, not that. Like a treasure. Something to be admired and touched at his whim.

And that is where you are now… 

Well. More or less.

Just because he’s kidnapped you doesn’t mean you have to give in to him. At least not outside of the fact that you can’t get away from him, and you know that there’s no point in trying to run or fight or desperately beg hotel concierges or passers-by for help. Because no one can help you. 

What you can do is fight, in little ways. Ways that dig under his skin and keep you from completely drowning in horror and misery. 

The best way to dig under the skin of the seemingly almighty Chrollo Lucilfer is to ignore his attempts to woo you. And oh, they are temptations, there is no doubting that. He has offered so much at your feet that you sometimes wonder why he simply doesn’t find someone who might be open to his advances and do the same. You’ve told him as much, and he’s murmured sweet nothings (emphasis on nothings, in your opinion) about how you’re the only one who’s ever really caught his eye and his heart. 

He’s offered you a veritable library of books, including treasures that you’re sure (even if he won't admit it) were stolen from some priceless collection. He’s taken you to bookstores and told you to have your pick, anything you want--it’s yours. He’ll even read it with you. 

He suggests getting your favorite meals--sticky and spicy rice dishes, homey pasta from the local restaurant, pastries with sweet cream. Whatever you want, whenever you want. He’s collected all of your favorite films (the fact that he knows which were your favorites makes you feel sick every time you think about it) and watched them with you, but there’s no enjoyment in the scenes. Just as there is no enjoyment in the jewelry he clasps around your wrist, your neck; the rings he slides on your fingers. 

You reject the intention behind them all, verbally or physically. Except the food, but only because you need the energy to keep up your struggles for another day. 

You refuse to accept this as normal. Any of this. 

That’s why he still ties you up when he has to leave, whether it’s a short leash that keeps you on the bed or a long chain around your ankle, keeping you away from the front door of wherever you’ve been stashed.

Sometimes you’re tied up when he’s here, too, if you’ve been too ornery. You refuse to let him touch you or kiss you, though God in heaven knows he’s tried. You’ve bitten him in the past, and got gagged for the trouble, but it was worth it. It’s not like you wanted to talk to him anyway. 

He can kidnap you, but he can’t make you love him. He can’t make you let him love you, either, whatever version of “love” he believes is in his heart.

But.

But.

But.

Patience is a thread. Eventually, when pulled too tight, it snaps.

You might have paid more attention to this fact, if you knew what was coming.

--

You shouldn’t be surprised when you exit the bathroom, freshly showered and dressed in clean sweatpants and a lounge shirt, that the apartment has been transformed. It’s not the first time Chrollo has attempted a romantic evening.

But you weren’t expecting it and tonight, he’s pulled out everything in the book. Lights. Music. Food. Mood.

On the table of the hotel room are some of your favorite dishes, all neatly arranged on top of a crisp white tablecloth. There are glasses of wine, probably expensive. In the background soft music plays, something nice, relaxing, elegant. There are candles on the dining table, on the coffee table, above the fireplace. Flickering and dancing, giving the room a dreamy effect. 

And there is Chrollo, of course, standing as casually as he can (which is not very much at all) in front of the table. Staring at you with unspoken expectations in his eyes. 

“I thought,” he says, slowly, after a while, “that you could pick our movie tonight as well. Anything you please.” 

You don’t answer. You look at the table and then at him, but you don’t answer.

He sighs, and you see--just for a moment--one of the hands at his side clench and release. He walks toward you, and you’ve half a mind to turn around and lock yourself in the bathroom, but he’s quicker than your thoughts. 

One hand goes to your chin and you set your jaw together as tight as you can, lips pursed, ready to spit venom if he should try anything. 

“Darling,” he whispers. “I wish you’d let me treat you.” He pauses. “I wish you’d let me kiss you.” 

You can feel his breath on your cheek. It smells like mint. He probably popped one while you were in the shower. Asshole. 

He leans in, and it’s not the first time he’s tried to kiss you but it’s the most audacious in recent memory, and you yank your jaw away and take a step back.

You breathe in through your nose, wishing hot fumes could come out to represent how you feel inside. But they don’t. 

So you settle for words.

“Fuck. You.” You spit them out, jaw clenched, brow furrowed. “Fuck you and your ‘date’ and if you think I’m ever, ever going to let you… let you…” Kiss me, touch me, have anything from me except poison and hatred? You can’t finish.

The words aren’t enough. You need something more, something that lets you kinetically toss all of this anger and helplessness out into the world. 

Ah. The table. 

You don’t think before you do it. You just do it. Your hands grip the pressed white table cloth and you yank, hard, sending all the carefully set glasses and dishes flying to the floor. The candles, fragile things, sputter out in the process.

For a few moments, it is mostly silent, punctuated only by a soft dripping that you assume must be spilled wine and your own rapid breathing.

And then you look back at Chrollo and feel your stomach drop out from underneath you.

He’s staring, not at the mess you’ve made, but you. And he doesn’t look angry at all, which isn’t quite right--because you know he’s angry. You know it because the air feels heavy, rancid, like you’re being pressed down by mere emotion. 

“I’ve been kind,” he says finally, voice soft and calm. You want to scream--kind?!--but the feeling in the air keeps you from speaking. You don’t want it inside your mouth, this air. 

“I’ve been kind,” he repeats, “but enough is enough.” 

If you were a rabbit, you would have run. But you’re not, and so you’re standing perfectly still when he takes slow steps toward you and grabs your wrist.

Now, you do try to pull away--but for once, you can’t wrench yourself from his grip. You always had been able to before. But this is different--he’s different. It’s like he’s a stone statue, and no matter how you pull, it makes no difference.

Only he’s not as still as a statue. His hand returns to its earlier position, but instead of gripping your chin, he continues upward, tracing lines across your jaw, up your cheek.

“So lovely,” he says. “A pity that you haven’t let me admire you.”

“Fuck you,” you spit, venomous air be damned. You pull as hard as you can, your socked feet sliding on the floor. You wrench and yank and squirm. Stupidly, it turns out, because it doesn’t work.

He smiles at you. It’s not a nice smile at all.

“That is the plan, dearest.”

Your stomach lurches ahead of you, like a sudden stop on a roller coaster.

“What?” 

He doesn’t answer. Instead, he begins to walk, pulling you behind him.  Your feet skid and slide, but it doesn’t matter. It’s like you're made of nothing, a doll, a toy, that he’s pulling along without resistance.

“Chrollo--what?” You ask again. 

He’s silent as he drags you into the bedroom, and it’s then, your toe bumping against the threshold on the floor, that you realize where this is going. 

“Wait, wait--” The words tumble out of you like water, but there’s no stopping the pull against your arm, or the gravitational force when he gives you a push onto the bed.

The softness of the mattress has you sinking into it, but you manage to scramble backwards before turning yourself over.

“Wait--” 

He stands over the bed. He looks at you for a few long, awful moments.

“No more waiting,” he says. Simply. Coldly. Goosebumps run up your arms and you want to run but you feel stuck, frozen, like something is holding you to the bed. You can’t tell if it’s something real or your fear keeping you there.

And then he’s crawling on the bed, his body over yours.

“I’ve been patient.”

His hand reaches out and grabs your wrists, which feel limp and useless; he pins them above your head.

“I’ve been kind.”

His other hand goes to your chest, but not to touch you. He grips the fabric of your shirt and pulls. It rips like paper. The air must be cool because goosebumps immediately dot the flesh of your bared chest, sending a shiver through your body that almost covers up the sense of dread within you.

There’s a sense of finality to those goosebumps. Because he’s not going to stop at taking off your shirt, is he? 

“No, I don’t want--you--you--you can’t.”

There’s something that changes in his expression, then. You don’t know what it is, and there’s not enough time to really focus on it. Not with adrenaline pumping through you, making you start to squirm, making your breath start to come fast.

He leans down, close to your ear, that damned smell of mint wafting into your nostrils again.

“I’m a thief, love. I can take whatever I want.” 

He lets go of your wrists, and both of his hands grip the waistband of your sweatpants. And that’s exactly when panic truly sets in. Your leg kicks--you hit him, you think--and your body flails, hands flying. Every muscle in your body is tight and tense and screaming to get away.

“No, no, no, no!” 

At your panic-induced fury, he merely hums, and it’s the most awful sound you’ve ever heard. 

You feel the shift in the air before you see the book. You hate the book. He’s never used the book on you, no, that is true. But you’ve seen it used on others. A warning towards you, but you didn’t heed it well enough.

He murmurs something and your hands fly up towards the headboard. You try to move them but you can’t. It’s like they're held together by some invisible rope. It doesn’t stop you from kicking your legs, twisting and turning, spit flying as your breath comes in ragged gasps.

At this, Chrollo merely uses his free hands to pin down your thighs.

And he waits.

He waits until your body is exhausted, too exhausted to kick or flail or fight him. Not that it did you any good, with your hands bound. And with his own strength in the mix. 

When your body ceases to do more than squirm pitifully against the bed, and your breath has gone from spitting and ragged to merely heaving, he smiles down at you.

“There, now. That’s better.”

You don’t want this.

“Please don’t,” you say, voice cracking.

But it doesn’t matter what you want.

Your sweatpants are pulled down first. He doesn’t pull them all the way off, and somehow, this makes your stomach squirm. Then he pulls down your underwear, bunching it along with your sweatpants down by your ankles.

You squeeze your eyes tightly and will yourself to be anywhere but here.

You hear his breath hitch at the sight of your bared body, at all the things you’ve kept hidden from him until now.

“Beautiful,” he says, a crooning reverence in his tone. “Simply lovely.”

Something desperate and stupid pushes you to open your eyes, to look at him, gaze shining with oncoming tears.

“D-Don’t,” you force out. “Let’s do--let’s do something else, okay? You can kiss me, or… or…” Your mind scrambles for some substitution.

Chrollo smiles down at you with indulgence, then presses a finger to your trembling lips.

“Hush now. You had a chance--many chances, in fact--but they’re gone now. We’ll do this a different way.”

And then he finally unbuttons his trousers and pulls them down, along with his boxers. You immediately look up, afraid and unwilling to see what’s underneath. 

He leaves his own shirt on, and the sight of that makes you angry, somewhere, deep down. Goosebumps on your chest give way to righteous flushing, hot, angry. 

There’s a moment where the two of you merely look at one another. You, with your eyes watery and wide, naked, bared. And Chrollo, his eyes drinking in the sight of you, filling up his own hollow spaces with what was prone in front of him.

And then his mouth is on yours, wet, warm, insistent. 

For the briefest of moments, it occurs to you that while you can’t move your wrists, you can still move your mouth. You can still bite. 

He pulls back only to speak against your lips, sensing your throats.

“Don’t bite,” he murmurs, in between pressing his lips to yours. “I can be so much worse than this.” 

And just like that, the thought of biting recedes, stuck behind the cold fear of what else Chrollo could do. Would do, if you pushed him to it. 

But that just leaves you and him, on this bed. 

He murmurs something in approval and begins to kiss you again. HIs tongue finds its way into your mouth and you want to retch. It’s wet and warm and awful. There’s pressure on your chest--his hands, resting at first, then kneading your breasts. 

Your entire body wants to recede into the mattress. To simply dissolve into it, down to the floor, and possibly beyond.

You don’t want him touching you, but he is.

He pulls away from your mouth, and you can’t look him in the eye, but he doesn’t seem to care.

“I can’t wait any longer, my dear.” 

You know what he’s talking about but it doesn’t make it any less terrifying when his hands drift away from your chest, trailing down your stomach, until they finally reach between your legs.

It’s a light touch, at first. Something you could blink away. But he has no patience to take it slow, and in a moment his fingers are inside you. You’re dry. It hurts. But he says nothing when your breath catches in your throat and you let out a pained wheeze. 

Your inner walls squeeze him, not to keep him in but in an attempt to push his digits out. It’s an instinctive gesture, and maybe that’s why he doesn’t bother you about it. 

He pulls his fingers out and there’s relief for a moment,  until you feel  his thumb rubbing your clit. There’s too much pressure, an electric sort of tingle. You can’t tell if he’s experimenting or trying to get you wet or something else entirely.

You stare up at the ceiling. The ceiling has tiles. You could count them. You could count them and pretend you’re not here, and that this isn’t happening. 

Yet it’s too hard to do that, when you can feel him. Feel his thumb rubbing your clit and his pressure on the body and hear his breathing.

“Look at me, darling,” he says, light, crooning. Like he wasn’t keeping you tied to the bed and touching you unwillingly. Maybe while you’re trying to count tiles, he’s imagining that this went a different way. Maybe.

When you meet his gaze, he keeps it there. 

“This will hurt, I imagine.” 

He stares at you as he thrusts inside you and he’s right. It does hurt. You’re a little wet, maybe, but not really prepared. It feels like your breath gets knocked out of you, like something is stuck in your lungs, all the while a rough stinging against your inner walls brings tears immediately to your eyes. There’s an awful soreness where the two of you meet.

Tiles, tiles, tiles--who can count tiles while this is going on? 

Chrollo, still wearing his damn shirt, begins to thrust inside you. Your breath comes back just in time for it to hitch at the roughness of his thrusts, at how unusually wild and uncontrolled he seems. 

It’s painful. It’s humiliating. You don’t know how long it’s going on. Tears trickle down your cheeks, but they feel cold. A startling contrast to the painful heat between your legs, the uncomfortable dryness even as he thrusts inside you. 

“Oh, you’re cruel,” he says suddenly, voice tinged with just a touch of breathiness. 

His words make something inside you begin to crack. A fissure line ready to spread. 

“I’m cruel?” Pain chokes your voice.

He presses against you, leaning down so that he can kiss your jawline, peppering kisses on  your tear-tracked skin. 

“Yes.” His breath is hot against your cheek. “For denying me the pleasure of this feeling for so long.” 

Some part of you, some dull dragging part, wants you to ask what feeling he means. All you feel is pain and humiliation and this awful helplessness that feels like your guts are being scooped out while you’re still alive. 

“How awful of you,” he continues, uncaring of whatever thoughts might be racing around in your head. He presses a kiss to your lips. “But I’ll forgive you, in time. Starting with this.”

You shake your head against it all, and he only chuckles, pressing a sickeningly chaste kiss to your cheek.

And then he begins to thrust harder, and there’s added torment to it. More pain, more stinging, an awful feeling of stretch. Another feeling, too, something hitting you--again and again, timed with his thrusts. You realize, with a humiliation that makes you actually cry, that his balls are slapping against you. 

There’s an awful lewdness to it, and it’s something you’ll never forget. 

Now and then, you feel a thumb brush against your clit, and you jolt from it. But there’s no pleasure, no warmth, no seeking out his lips and arms to meld together in an embrace. The sweat you feel against your back makes you feel dirty. 

But all you can do is clench your fingers, wrists bound by some invisible cord, and wish for it to be over soon. It would be a mercy.

You don’t know how long it takes. Time drags and hurts. But eventually you feel him speeding up, catch a crack in his expression that tells you with certainty that he’s going to reach his peak. He leans down again, gripping your chin, and kisses you deeper than he has before.

He groans into your mouth as you feel him still, as you feel wetness inside you. It’s warm and thick and you want to vomit it up, even though it’s not in your mouth. You wish you could spit out the sound of his moan. You imagine brushing your teeth a thousand times and never ridding yourself of it.

In time, Chrollo pulls away from you, and removes himself from between your legs. Liquid seeps out of you, slow and warm. 

You will think, later, of birth control. Of asking for a pill. Your stomach will clench and you will throw up with worry that you could be pregnant. He will give you a pill and that worry, at least, will disappear. But that is later. 

Now, however, all is silent. Or almost silent. Your ragged breathing and somewhere on the wall, a soft ticking of a clock. Dim sounds from outside, but maybe that is only rushing in your ears. 

Your thoughts are not so silent. They are buzzing, going from thought to thought. He hurt you. It hurts. He made you kiss him. He fucked you. 

He’s taken everything from you now. Everything you tried to keep, stubborn, stupid thing that you are. Is it any wonder that more tears come, when this thought slams into your brain? 

And is it any wonder that Chrollo gazes down at you with something like reverence when you do? He drinks in  your expression, and when he leans in, you think for a moment--and only a moment--that he’s guilty. Or sorry. Or something almost like those two human emotions that everyone should possess. 

But what he whispers is nothing so human. 

“This is your fault, you know. If you hadn’t denied me for so long, well…”

He nuzzles your neck. His touch feels like sandpaper, but you can’t bat him away. How long will he keep your wrists bound like this? Another minute? Another hour? All night? 

He sighs against your skin. 

“Next time will be better, won’t it? No need to repeat this?”

You would like to go into the bathroom and flush everything out of you with scalding hot water. You would like to drink pure alcohol to rid your mouth of his taste. You would like to down pain pills, to address the pain between your legs.

But you’re tied to the bed and can’t do any of those things.

So you nod, absently. Your eyes go from his face--though his never leave yours, watching what you do, taking it all in--towards the ceiling. 

Oh, the tiles. 

One of the tiles on the ceiling is cracked. 

Someone should really fix it. 

[amatoryscripts]

Never Let You Go

Pairing: Soft yan! Caleb x Fem! reader

Summary: You've had back-to-back missions lately, and Caleb's getting fed up and concerned. Not only is he worried, but he also hates that he hasn't been able to spend more time with you lately. When Jenna calls, saying she needs you on a mission with the team, he doesn't like the idea and intervenes with you going.

Warnings/tags. MDNI +18: Soft yandere Caleb, forcing you to stay home, poor baby cares too much, obsessive and possessive, unprotected sex, use of "baby girl" "princess" "baby" "pretty girl", MC giving him the silent treatment,makeup sex, biting, so good he tears up.

Lately, every time you turn around, a call from Jenna would come through about a mission that would take up hours of your day, sometimes even longer. How often you've been disappearing in the last two weeks was becoming concerning. Especially to Caleb, who has noticed this the most. How could he not? Every time you two had plans to be together, you had to cancel because of a last-minute mission due to wanderers lurking around. It didn't help his anxiety when you'd video call him after these missions; you'd be bruised up and getting bandaged by the medical techs during a majority of these calls. It pained him to see you in those conditions, as if his own heart could feel all the bruises and wounds you've accumulated on your body.

He always tells you that you can say no to a mission once in a while. Seeing you relax on his couch, reading one of your books while he made you food was a more enjoyable image than seeing you covered in blood and injured. Despite him asking you to do so many times, you refuse. Your response would always involve your worries of not being there for your team and helping to save those around. You were always putting other people first. Sometimes, he wishes you were as selfish as him.

Today was supposed to involve a relaxing date night at his apartment. The plan was to eat dinner and watch the movie they didn't get to last time cuddled up on the couch. In the kitchen, he was cooking a new dish you've been craving to try for a while. Oyster Rockefeller paired with lemon rice and sauteed Korean cucumber. When you mentioned your interest in it, he took note of the dish and garnered the ingredients for the day he knew you two would be together. This is the only thing he's been looking forward to all week.

You sauntered into the kitchen wearing one of his t-shirts and shorts. You've always liked wearing his clothes, but he especially likes it, thinking it makes you two feel closer. Plus, he thought it was cute when you'd hide half of your face and body in his shirts when sitting down. You rest your head against his back, taking in the smell of the seasonings invading the air. "Smells good," you hum, wrapping your arms around his torso. Caleb smiles at your embrace, wanting you to stay attached to him like this all the time.

"I should be done in the next hour or so," he informed you, sautéing the aromatics. He could tell how happy you were that he was making this dish for you. He took pleasure in doing things like this. He didn't mind it one bit, relishing in your happiness and the way your face lights up when he would take care of you. You're very independent, but take advantage of the way he wants to do everything for you. Sometimes, you wonder if you're taking advantage of poor Caleb, but he would always respond with how his only wish in life was to make yours as easy as possible.

"I was thinking we could also play Mario Ka-" You were cut off by the sound of a call trying to get your attention. Caleb already had a clue of who it could be. He puts down the knife he was using to split open the cucumbers and watched as you took the phone out of your pocket. It was Jenna, as always.

"Don't answer it," his low and dark tone caught you off guard for a split second. He knew Jenna was gearing up to swoop you away, once again, to go fight off wanderers they could take down by themselves without you. He didn't understand why they always needed to involve you in all these missions.

"Caleb, I have to," you remind him, letting go to answer the phone. As you turned around to pick up the call, you suddenly felt your body be immobilized. "Huh?" you grunt, trying to move but to no avail. Caleb walks in front of you, taking the phone from your hand. He was using his evol to keep you from moving and answering the phone. His arms swing over your shoulder, covering your mouth with his hand as he answers the phone.

"Hello?... Hi, Jenna... sorry she can't come to the phone," you muffled through his hands, trying to get him to stop. Your eyes demanding for him to let you go. "She's actually pretty sick... yeah, it must be a stomach bug. Poor thing can barely even speak," he smirks, looking down at you. "I'll tell her you hope she gets better. Bye now," he hangs up the phone and places it on the counter. He continues to keep you restrained but removed his hand so you can speak.

"Caleb! Why would you do that?!" You press as you watch him go to lock the front door and return to your side.

"I don't think you should go on that mission," concern and domianance coats his voice as he caresses your cheek with his thumb. You knew he hated you going on missions, but to basically keep you hostage irked you in so many ways.

"That's not really up to you," you struggle. Caleb's overprotectiveness was nothing new to you. He's always made it known that he would never let anything happen to you and would always protect you. You appreciate and even love that he feels this way, but it didn't mean he could stop you from making your own decisions. "Let me go." Your tone is firm as you stand your ground.

"Only if you promise to stay here and let your team handle everything," he attempts to bargain with you, hoping you'd give in easily. Your stubbornness was the real threat to him. He wouldn't put it past you to try and run out of the apartment as soon as he let you go, attempting to join your team in their fight against the wanderers terrorizing wherever Jenna wanted to send you off to.

"I can't leave my team behind," you retort, thinking about how your absence might affect them. They were strong, and you had faith in them, but that didn't mean you were okay with the idea of not being there when they might need you.

"They'll be fine," he assures you. "But I won't be if you come back hurt again. It took you days to recover last time, and now they're trying to send you back out there." His voice is tender, wrapped with a hint of frustration. The last thing he wanted to see was you covered in bandages with blood soaking through and bruises not caused by him decorating your body.

He wasn't wrong. You weren't fond of coming home all banged up, but you took this job to protect people, something you want to do. If that meant sometimes getting hurt, then so be it. "Caleb, I'm strong enough to protect myself. I don't need you treating me like glass. I'll always get a scratch here or there, but it comes with the territory, and I accepted that. You need to do the same." You didn't get this far by being fragile. Jenna put you on her team for a reason, and Caleb needed to start seeing you as someone strong and capable, not the little girl he would protect from bullies and danger 24/7.

He stayed silent, cupping your face and staring into your fiery eyes. He just wants to keep you like this. At his whim and safe from the cruelties of outside. Was that so wrong? Wanting to keep you locked away being only with him?

"You can't keep me from doing my job," you sigh, knowing he was just scared of losing you again. You both shared that fear, so she understood him well.

"I can try," his assertion not wavering, standing strong in his goal to keep you here. "You're not leaving. You're going to eat dinner, and we're going to watch the movie like we planned, okay?" All he could think about was how this interruption was ruining this time meant for you two to be alone.

You were silent, your frustration consuming you as you stared at him with narrow eyes. You knew trying to run off would be futile. He looks the most determined you’ve ever seen him. Jenna already thinks you're sick, so what's the point? After another few seconds of staring each other down, you give in. "Fine," reluctance infuses your words, knowing he wouldn't back down. He drops his evol, and you move your shoulders around, relaxing your body.

At the dinner table, you weren't talkative like usual. Your attention was on the food, not looking up at Caleb once. You were too upset to properly enjoy the meal. Normally, you'd be showering him with compliments as you stuffed your face from happiness. At this moment, you were picking at the food, taking small bites as you worried about your team, wondering how the mission was going.

Caleb stabbed his plate, picking up a piece of the oyster on his fork, watching you ignore him. "I'm doing this to keep you safe," he suddenly says. You didn't look up, pushing a slice of cucumber in your mouth. He could even make cucumber taste amazing. You keep the praise to yourself, listening to him attempt to make you understand why he did what he did. "It drives me crazy when you're risking your life for others. Doing it back to back too often is insane." He grips his fork, which begins to bend slightly from his strength. "You can really hurt yourself if you keep pushing your body like this. I wouldn't forgive myself for letting you go out there to get hurt."

Still, you refused to acknowledge him, pushing the rest of your food around. As the silence continued, the sound of your phone receiving a message echoed. You checked the notification and saw it was from Tara, hoping you got well, while also informing you that the mission was a success and everyone was fine. That message made you smile for the first time since you sat down.

"I'm assuming you received good news and everyone's limbs are intact. Happy now?" You frown at his comment. You hope he didn't think you would forgive him easily because everyone was fine.

"Yeah, it's good to know I can stop feeling guilty for worrying about my teammates when I should've been there for them!" You hiss, standing up abruptly and marching into the bedroom, slamming the door behind you.

Caleb stays at the dinner table, not touching his food anymore from a loss of appetite. He didn't like it when you got like this. It made his heart crumble when you'd give him the cold shoulder and shut him out. All he wants is to be near you and make you happy. Now you were pissed and shutting him out. His worst fear, right below losing you forever. You were scary in this state, going from being sweet and loving to an eruption of anger.

You stayed in the room, covering yourself with the shirt you wore. holding your phone inches from your face as you caught up with your teammates. You heard Caleb leave the apartment a few minutes after you got up from the table. Curiosity about where he ran off to did creep around your mind, but you were still annoyed at his behavior. When you checked in with the last member, you felt better than earlier, knowing everyone got out without being heavily injured. Even if Tara confirmed this with you earlier, it still didn't feel right not checking in with them.

A knock at the bedroom door interrupts your scrolling through your Moment feed. You close the screen as you watch the door slowly open, a small, plushed brown bear poking it's head through the crack.

"Caleb wanted to say he was sorry and that he misses you. Can he come in?" a high-pitched voice, you assume coming from Caleb, chirps. You couldn't help the small smirk that danced on your lips. You stifle it as you respond. "You can come in".

Caleb's large body pushes through the door, holding the bear as he approaches your side of the bed with the peace offering. "I went to the arcade and saw this little guy," he explains as he holds the bear out for you. You take the gift, examining its little face and soft fur. "Bears are cute and cuddly, but we know they're ferocious when provoked."

"You calling me a bear?" your brows raise in amusement at his comment.

"Absolutely," his response makes you chuckle, almost forgetting why you were mad at him in the first place. You shove your face in the back of the plushies head as you took in how it smelt like Caleb already. He watches you indulge in the bear, looking more peaceful than before.

"I'm sorry," he finally says, sitting beside you. His hand travels to your blanket-covered legs, giving them a small squeeze. "I shouldn't have lied to Jenna and stopped you from going on the mission". You raise your head, listening to what he had to say. " I...I was just scared. I didn't want to see you get hurt again. I was selfish, not wanting you to disappear for hours while I would be here alone without you while you missed dinner and the movie." His voice was infused with an apologetic tone laced in sadness. You could tell he was just worried and wanted to do whatever he could to keep you protected.

You run your hand over his. "I want you to have more faith in me and my abilities to protect myself". His heart jumps at your touch and the softness in your voice. "I know me being a hunter is worrisome for you, but you have to believe that I'll be okay."

"I do have faith in you. I just can't stop thinking about what would happen if something goes wrong. If a wanderer hurt you or someone else did, I'd go crazy." His grip becomes tighter at the thought. You squeeze his hand to show him that you were there with him and not off getting hurt, trying to bring him back to the present.

"I can't promise I'll never get hurt, and I'll always be in the best condition, but no matter what, I'll always come back to you. That I can promise." He wants to say; How do you know you'll always come back? , but he didn't want to dwell on that thought when you were touching and looking at him with so much promise and affection in your eyes. He didn't want his worries to ruin this moment. Instead, he leaned in and planted a kiss on your lips. It started off soft and innocent but transformed deeper, filled with yearning.

"You promise?" he questioned, breaking the kiss to look at you as he cupped your face, not wanting to ever let go of it.

"I promise I'll always come back to your side," you whisper, leaning back in to continue the kiss.

Heavy breathing and whimpers flooded the silent room. Your face contorted in pleasure as Caleb's fingers worked their way inside of you, pumping at a rhythmic but swift pace, watching how you took his fingers perfectly, coating them in your wet heat. His lips found that delicate spot on your neck as he nibbled and sucked on it, drawing out those sweet moans he loved hearing from your lips. "You sound so cute like this, baby," he comments in a dark, sensual tone. "I wanna hear more." His thumb joins in on the fun, circling over your throbbing, sensitive pearl, sending waves of pleasure through your body. Your body jolts and twitches as you cry out for him.

"Caleb! fuck...feels so good," you mewl into his hair, gripping his shoulder tightly, nails digging into his skin leaving behind crescent marks. His fingers could feel your walls tightened around them, signaling how close you were.

"That's it. Cum all over my fingers, pretty. Be a good girl for me, okay? Let me take care of you". He moans into your neck, feeling how hard he was getting from the sounds you were making and the tightness of your cunt sucking him in. His movements mixed with his words, encouraged your peak to shoot through your body, cumming all over his fingers. He slows down, drawing out your orgasm before bringing his fingers to his mouth, tasting you on his fingers.

"You taste so sweet," he coos, cleaning his fingers off as if he was desperate to get every last bit into his mouth. "Let me taste you some more," he whispers darkly before dropping his head between your legs. You let out a soft gasp as he connects his mouth to your soaking pussy, wasting no time to lap up your juices and shove the same fingers he just licked clean, right back inside. The combination pushes you further into your pleasure. He's relentless in his goal to drive you crazy. He sucks on your sensitive nub, humming in delight as you lose your words, spilling out whimpers and cries from how he was ruining you. Your fingers found his head and began grasping at his dark locks, pulling at them from the stimulation engulfing your body. He groans in satisfaction, loving when you got handsy like this. "Harder," he commands in a low groan. It didn't take much for you to tug on his hair even more. He made sure of it when he spread your legs wider, giving him the change to fuck his fingers in deeper.

"Caleb!" you call out, your voice soft and trembling. "I'm...ah~', your squealing elicits a wicked chuckle from his throat. "No, no. I can't, I can't." Your face twists as you lose confidence in your ability to cum again for him.

"Yes, you can," he growls, picking up his pace as he continues sucking your clit as your hips buck into his mouth. His fingers curl up into you, hitting that perfect spot that makes your back arch. "You can do it. I wanna taste you cum all over my mouth" he sucks harder on her clit causing a high pitched whine to spill from her lips "Just one more time. Please, baby? I'll make you feel so good, I promise" he pleads for you to let yourself cum on his mouth. You whimper and buck your hips as your release finds you once again, dripping all over his lips as he hums in satisfaction. "Fuck... your such a good girl for me". He finishes lapping up your juices as if he was licking a plate clean.

Your chest rises and falls as you catch your breath, watching him push one leg back to your chest. He wasn't done yet; he couldn't be satisfied until he was buried deep inside of you. He lines his throbbing cock between your legs, rubbing his tip up and down your wet folds. "You want more of me, pretty girl?" he purrs, trying to hold back from slamming into you the way he wants.

You look at him with pleading eyes, nodding feverishly as you bring your arms up to wrap around his neck, wanting the same thing that was clouding his mind. He drops his head down to your ear, gripping your hip tightly as he nibbles and licks your lobe. A shiver infiltrates your body, going down your spine, causing you to push yourself up into him.

"Come on, use your words, princess," he insists, pushing his teasing cock between your folds just enough to make you groan in impatience.

" Please, Caleb. I need you," you whine. He drops down to your tits, playing with one while he sucked the nipple of the other, nibbling just enough to make your legs kick and wrap around him from the sensation.

" What do you need, hm?" he smirks, wanting to hear you beg some more. "You need my cock fucking this cute little pussy? you want me to ruin you, baby?" his voice was dark and tainted with lust as he twisted your nipple. " Cause I'll fucking ruin you if you want."

"Yes," you breathe, followed by a small whine. "I need you to fuck me so badly." Your plea doesn't become lost on him. He pushes himself into you, groaning from feeling how tight you were around his tip.

"Oh fuck!" he grunts, pushing further into you, watching the way your mouth part and eyes flutter. Once he saw you'd taken most of him, he pulls back slowly and shoves himself back in, evoking a loud cry from you that he soon began to devour, moaning into your mouth as his hips thrust into you. his movements were hungry, wanting his cock to be the only thing you could feel. He breaks the kiss, looking down at you watching how your tits bounced against your chest, gripping your hips tightly pushing them back onto him. "You look so pretty like this, baby. Do you like how I feel?"

You could barely speak, feeling too consumed by him stretching you out. You bit your lips, stifling your cries as your body succumbed to the warm heat spreading through you.

"Answer me, princess," he thrusts into you harder, making you gasp and whine as you grip the side of the bed.

" Yes!" You wail. " Love it so much...please... need more," you pant, catching his purple eyes that have darkened from his craving. He drops into the crook of your neck, lifting your hips up to give him more leverage. He slams into you erratically, the sound of your skin meeting repeatedly dancing in the air, mixing with moans and grunts trickling from both of your lips as the headboard crashes into the wall behind you.

"Wanna stay like this forever" he groans, using his finger to rub circles around your clit, adding more intensity to your body. "Fuck! Wanna always be buried in this tight pussy. Wanna feel you like this all the time." he expresses his desires, occasionally letting out a small whimper from how you were clenching around him. "Never wanna leave you. Never." His thrusts turn sharper as each word escapes him. You feel a drop of water meeting your collarbone, sparking confusion. You look down at him, lifting his head to meet your face. Tears were prickling the corner of his eyes as he looked at you with emotions and yearning flooding his gaze. "Please don't leave me," he grovels, continuing his sloppy movements inside of you.

"I won't," you mutter, kissing his forehead softly. You couldn't help but think of how cute he looked like this. So desperate for you that it brought him to tears.

"Say it," he begs, feeling himself getting closer. "Say you'll never leave me. Say you'll always be here. I need to hear you say it...please." He bites your shoulder, scrunching up his face as his balls tighten, ready to give you all of him. You mewl from his bite, a mixture of pain and pleasure taking over you.

" I'll never leave you, I promise! I promise!" your cries swamp his mind as he finds himself shooting his hot cum deep inside of you, letting your voice permeate his mind. His release is thrust deeper inside as his hips slow down, refusing to pull out. He looks down at himself inside of you movingly slowly, taking in the white ring around the base of his cock, as streaks of his cum drips down your inner thighs.

You wrap your arms around his neck, bringing his attention to your lips. Your kiss is soft and saturated with affection. You could tell he's been worried about this for so long. The thought of you leaving one day, always floating and haunting him in the back of his mind.

"I'm gonna hold you to that promise," he murmurs, catching his breath as he crashes on top of you, ensuring he didn't suffocate his precious girl. With his eyes closed, his fingers drew patterns on your warm stomach.

"And I'll make sure to always keep it." You kiss the top of his head, pulling him in closer as you pet his soft head, showing that you would never let go.

[ghostcore3]

some random headcanons of tomura that i thought of

just like ochaco, he sleeps either with gloves on or bandages on his pinky fingers

i’ve seen many people say tomura would listen metal or heavy metal but i really think he’d prefer game OST’s over anything>>>

blasts bury the light at 3am

he’d call kurogiri at 3am just to tell him about his plans to kill all might

apparently he’s awake all day, having anxiety attack cuz he drank monster on an empty stomach

i think he’s the type of guy to meticulously plan everything only to have it ruined by bad luck

he’d occasionally pick on his flaky skin/lips

he has a habit of collecting figures, only to leave on at the shelve without looking at it again

if you’re close to tomura, he’d invite you to eat something tasty and then tell you that he destroyed one of your items

tomura is not the type to use bar soap but rather dispenser soap…that’s if you’re lucky enough he used one

he doesn’t use his quirk much and he’s used to only using 4 fingers

very competitive and mean when he plays against you in a PvP game

too mean he’s not giving you an ounce of hope to win

you got upset and he decided to switch to simulation games instead (he doesn’t admit this but he plays animal crossing to relax)

say goodbye to your personal space, this man knows no boundaries

he’s not shy, he’s just like a cat that doesn’t know how to express its feelings to you

*gets jumpscared in a horror game* “fuck all might, fuck endeavor, fuck hawks, fuck—“

your man is the type to pick his food off the floor :(

shigaraki is the type of guy to buy you the most luxurious & beautiful black nightgown while he stays on his creeper boxers

tomura doesn’t like to shower on his own, he likes the feeling of your fingers brushing through his hair 🚿🛀

(NSFW below this point:)

expect him to talkshit about all might mid-sex

i really think his hatred for all might surpasses his sex drive

prefers receiving and will be mean about it, he just likes making a mess of you

degradation & slight breeding kink

your boobs are his favorite pillows

he likes fucking you with the skirt on—

missionary & doggy 👑

call him sweet names during sex and he’ll melt under your arms

doesn’t like shower sex but a blowjob will do

i think he would be into somnophilia, only if you’re fine with it

[helenabuu32]

My first hc post officially has 100 notes 🥹

To celebrate……

Anotha one.

Bucci Squad when their crush or S/O gets badly hurt during a mission!

Bucciarati:

RIP to the one who has awoken mama bear

Without hesitation will use Sticky Fingers to safely tuck you away from danger until the threat is taken care of.

Depending on how severe the injury is, he’ll send another member in the zipper dimension with you to make sure you’re okay. If it’s life threatening, he’ll make Giorno heal you there.

Once you’re somewhere safe, it’s go time. There’s no holding back and the rest of the team is actually a little shocked (or scared) of his lack of composure when going after the one who hurt you.

He will accept help from the others if he needs it, he doesn’t care as long as the person gets fucked up. He will however insist on on delivering the finishing blow

Will probably deliver a really emotional speech about “those who dare harm the one he loves” (he’ll do this whether you’re dating or not bc ur prob unconcious anyway so it won’t really be a confession lmfao) as he proceeds to zipper their entire body apart and rip the pieces to shreds

Once the battle is over, he’s taking you home and not leaving your side until you’re better. If you’re dating he’ll make sure there’s always a fresh red rose by your bedside ❤️

Mista:

Did someone order a side of Swiss cheese?Because that’s what Mista is about to turn this person into.

He will throw himself in front of you and order one of the others to get you the hell out of there. He doesn’t care if he gets hit with an attack as long as you’re not getting hurt anymore.

The Sex Pistols are ANGRY. 5 is crying and wants to go to you, but knows Mista needs every bit of help he can get. They’re going absolutely nuts helping to riddle your attacker with bullets nonstop. Some of them are even trying to cling onto them and straight up bite chunks out of their body.

Mista will want to take care of this person himself but if he can’t handle it on his own, he’ll reluctantly let the others assist him. At the end of the day he doesn’t really care as long as he gets some (MANY) good shots in and this person is no more.

Once the fight is over, he’s sprinting to your side to assess the damage. Putting pressure on any wounds, he’ll take his shirt off to make a pillow for your head. Hell even rip it to shreds if you need bandages he doesn’t care.

If there’s a lot of damage, he’ll ask Giorno to help. He’s not letting you die on him.

Once you’re back home or somewhere safe, he’s doing everything he can to take care of you and help you. Any time you need food or water or a change of bandages, he’s the one who’s going to get it. Other than that, he never leaves your side until you’re better.

Abbachio:

This person is definitely gonna regret laying a finger on you.

He scoops you up and brings you somewhere safe while he’s yelling at the others to give them everything they’ve got.

If your life is in danger, he will put his hatred for Giorno aside and start begging him to come and heal you. He’s so desperate that the others are kind of shocked. They never realized you meant so much to him.

Depending on the enemy stand users abilities, he knows he and his own stand may be no match for them. If that’s the case, all he asks is that the others leave them alive so he can finish them off….

Once that has been done and he knows you’re going to be okay, he’ll demand that the others stay with you while he “takes care of things.”

He doesn’t even wanna use Moody Blues. In fact, he’s called his stand back in. If there’s anything laying around like a crowbar, a plank of wood, something that can do damage, he’ll grab it. If not, being the strongest of the group physically, he has no problem using his fists.

The others will watch from afar as Leone makes this person unrecognizable as human. This person is literally begging and pleading for mercy, but Abbacchio doesn’t intend on stopping. Even when they’re long dead, he just keeps going until they’re a bloody pulp.

He’ll walk back to you and the group, covered in the blood of the enemy and tell everyone to back off. He carries you the whole way back to whenever you’re staying. If you’re dating, he’ll just hold you and silently cry when you’re away from the others as he tells you how much he loves you and never wants to lose you.

Narancia:

Lol the others should run

No actually. He’s telling the rest of the Bucci gang to take you, make sure you’re okay, and run. FAR. Away.

He’s literally screaming at this person as he uses Aerosmith to just unleash everything it has. If there’s cars or anything around that he can use to set a fire, the whole area will be set ablaze within minutes.

Once he knows it’ll finish them off for good, Narancia will drop Aerosmith’s bomb and absolutely destroy everything in the vicinity. He doesn’t even care if he hurts himself at this point.

When the deed is finally done, he’s rushing to you and the others, tears running down his face yelling and making sure you are/are going to be okay.

Once you’re all back home, Narancia is constantly bringing you snacks and drinks and feeding them to you. He’ll set his boombox up in your room and let you ply all your favourite songs to help brighten the mood. He acts cheery to put a smile on your face, but this boy is honestly traumatized after watching you get hurt like that.

If you’re not dating, he feels like he literally needs to guard your room at night. He has this irrational fear that someone else will break in to try to finish you off. If you’re in a relationship, he sleeps with you every single night, waking up every half hour/an hour because he’s so worried something will happen.

Will pick you flowers he found (they’re actually weeds lol) outside because he knows how much you like them

Giorno

Uh yeah so he’s definitely about to prove he’s his fathers son here

He’s calm. Like SCARY calm. The others have never seen him act this way before and it’s freaking them out.

He’ll heal any wounds that need to be tended to immediately, then ask the others to take you somewhere you’ll be safer

He never once loses his composure. In fact, the others think they can see him….smiling???

His goal now is to use Gold Experience to make this person regret they were ever born. The enemy won’t even notice the strategically placed roots he’s been sprouting from the ground until it’s too late…

Once the enemy is where Giorno wants him, the others will watch this person slowly. SO slowly. Get impaled all over with thin tree branches. Giorno makes sure this person stays alive for a long time. Once he’s ready to finish the job, he will make the tree grow fully through their body, completely tearing them apart.

The others jaws are on the floor as they watch Giorno walk back over to them, the scene behind him looking like a gory horror movie. Most of them are a little scared of him right now but Abbacchio actually managed to grow a sliver of respect for him, strangely enough.

Upon seeing you, he goes back to his normal, kind self. When you get home, he will care for you until you’re better. If you’re dating, he’ll hold you tightly as he tells you how much he loves you and will never let anyone hurt you like that again.

Fugo

So he actually almost kills everyone out of complete, uncontrollable rage

He’s so angry he honestly doesn’t even check on you before going nuts on this person. The others, realizing they can’t stop him and would definitely die trying, get you to safety and take care of any injuries that may need immediate attention.

Fugo honestly almost gets himself killed with his own stand. But he doesn’t care, because at the end of the day, the person who hurt you is gone and boy did they suffer greatly

He finally calls Purple Haze back in, realizing how reckless he was being in his emotional state. He feels ashamed, but couldn’t help himself when he saw you laying there, crumpled up in pain on the ground.

When you get back, he’s actually avoiding you at first. When he finally comes to see you, he explodes. “What the Hell were you thinking??? Are you stupid, throwing yourself in the middle like that to blindly defend everyone? You could’ve gotten yourself KILLED. I almost LOST YOU.”

…if you weren’t dating already, that was pretty much his confession of his feelings for you. If you are in a relationship, he’ll finally let his guard down and just weep. You actually have to comfort him at first. He just keeps repeating how much he loves you and can’t ever lose you. He’s saying he’s sorry over and over again. Sorry for letting you get that hurt, sorry for almost hurting the others. He’s just sorry. And he swears to protect you and work on being more calm in those situations.

I’ll be adding one for Trish later as I was having a hard time thinking of a good amount of hcs for her and I’ve had this in my drafts so long that I just really wanna get it out there! I hope you guys liked this one, and again, always feel free to send in a request for some hcs from me! :)

Love: your friendly neighborhood Abbacchio simp 😌

[neoameba]

Hey, how was your day/night?

i was wondering if I could request a Gyutaro x male reader, please.

Like sfw and nsfw headcanons(if your ok with nsfw), or maybe like a nsfw story about the reader wanting to go on him, and him being embarrassed about his looks and we tell him that his beautiful and all that stuff? Thanks for reading this!

Gyutaro x Male! Reader Headcanons

Warnings: sfw and nsfw content, slightly abusive behaviors, mentions of blood. There are headcanons for ftm people, nsfw is below keep reading!

☆ Your relationship would not be easy, at least in the beginning. He is a reserved guy and loves to scare people, so be prepared for subtle threats.

☆ Now if you were an oni and especially an upper moon, things would change quite a lot. He wouldn't respect you at all at first, like a spoiled brat. But after the relationship, he would be more clingy. Not on an extreme level, but he would respect you and constantly give you compliments.

☆ And speaking of compliments, Gyutaro loves them. "You're such a handsome man... So strong... I can't believe you're with a guy like me..." And if you were a human, he would still continue to give you compliments, albeit with some insults. "You are so fragile, my love... Such a pathetic human but so beautiful..."

☆ Daki doesn't really like you at first. She hates men and the only one she allows to be by her side is her older brother. Gyutaro really wanted you guys to get along, but he would never pressure his sister to accept you, so he just prefers you stay away from her. Nothing would change if you were a upper moon, the only difference is that Daki wouldn't tell you to your face that she despises you.

☆ But over time, she would learn to deal with you. And after a long time, you would have a healthy relationship as far as possible. Gyutaro loves this and doesn't want to hide it.

☆ Gyutaro doesn't know how to express his feelings. Everything he feels is too overwhelming for him. So, he wouldn't say "I love you", he would scratch your skin while enjoying the blood flowing with a smile on his face. He wouldn't do that in your face, so as not to ruin your beauty.

☆ If you were a human, he would bring you food and some bandages as an "apology", since he knows you are fragile and those cuts were deep. Now, if you were an oni, prepare to receive a million bodies of your favorite humans. Do you prefer to eat men? Here it is, the best ones for you. This isn't an apology for scratching your skin, since he knows you weren't hurt. It's another way to show affection.

☆ He would often ask Daki's opinion in dealing with you since he has never dated and has no experience with men. The problem is that Daki's experiences weren't exactly romantic, which would lead to slight embarrassment.

NSFW

☆ I don't see Gyutaro as a restricted dom/top, or restricted sub/bottom. If you were top, he wouldn't mind being the passive one. He's just very inexperienced, and would trust whatever you say is best.

☆ He loves praise and reassurance, even during sex. If he was the bottom, I'd love to hear your voice telling you how beautiful he looks writhing in pleasure beneath you, or how cute he looks while riding you. And if he was the top one, he would definitely whisper in your ear how beautiful you are, and how warm and comfortable your body is for him.

☆ His favorite positions are the ones where he can look straight into your face and the ones where he doesn't have to move as much. Although, when he is the top one, he hates anything slow.

☆ He cries with pleasure when he is the passive one. It's simply a lot to deal with. He would grab the sheets and ask you to stop (spoiler: don't stop, he wants you to be even more aggressive).

☆ Punishments? He hates it. The worst are the ones where he can't look at you. So blindfolds and positions where his face is against you drive him crazy. On the other hand, when he becomes more experienced at it, he loves to punish you. He hurts you a lot in these punishments, even too much. If you are a human, you better not make any mistakes.

☆ If you are ftm/afab, I wouldn't change anything. He would still love you and have no problem with sex. If you were the top/dom one, he probably wouldn't be able to take a bounce before asking for a break. If you were the bottom, he would make a point of going as deep into your cunt as possible, and would always tease you with it. Of course, at first he didn't even know he could go that deep without hurting you.

☆ He has no idea what "aftercare" is. Explain to him and one of two things: either he'll think it's a waste of time because he's an oni, or he'll get the best beginner aftercare of all. If you were a human, regardless of whether you are bottom or top, he would take care of you afterwards, even in his own way. If you were an oni, he would be the one who would have to do the aftercare. Not because he needs it, but maybe, and just maybe... Because he likes to be taken care of by you.

Author's note (my notes :P)!

I hope you liked it, and that it turned out the way you wanted!

I don't post nsfw here, but I decided to break the rule and make an exception for you ♪⁠┌⁠|⁠∵⁠|⁠┘⁠♪

[fairykingjing]

Roronoa Zoro x F Reader - Relief

Summary: You’re injured, and haven’t gotten any alone time with your boyfriend, Roronoa Zoro. He offers to help you get some relief. ;)

Warnings: SMUT! 18+! Established relationship, female reader, making out, fingering, orgasms, mentions of p in v sex, creampie, cockwarming. Reader denied sex due to injuries.

WC: 1263

First time writing smut, but I figured it was good enough to post so here ya go! Enjoy!

18+! MDNI!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were on the deck of the Sunny, lounging in a chair and soaking up as much sun as you could. Chopper had finally let you out of the med bay after keeping you there for a week. During your last fight the crew got a little scuffed up, you especially taking the brunt of the damage. Besides the standard scrapes and bruises, you had a large gash running horizontally across the left side of your stomach, and another smaller one on your right thigh. You still hadn’t recovered fully, and to be honest you could hardly walk, but you were relieved to be out of that stuffy room.

Across the deck, you could see Usopp and Luffy fishing off the side of the boat, and Robin was enjoying a book. Franky was tinkering with a new gadget, and Nami was studying her maps to figure out the next place to go. You scanned the deck for your boyfriend, Zoro, but he was nowhere to be seen. Probably taking a nap somewhere, you thought to yourself. Almost on cue, you felt a looming presence over you, and you looked up to see him standing over you. “What are you doing out of the med bay? Your injuries aren’t even close to being healed.” he asked.

“Well hello to you too,” you retorted. “Chopper said I could come up on the deck to get some fresh air, that room was getting suffocating.”

Zoro frowned, clearly not happy with your answer. But if Chopper said it was okay, who was he to argue? You motioned to the seat next to yours, and he sat down carefully. “Did you walk up here yourself?” he questioned. “You didn’t seem like you could walk all that well yesterday.”

“I still can’t walk, honestly. Chopper and Sanji helped me get up here,” you answered.

“The cook? Why didn’t you ask me to help you?” he pouted.

“Because Chopper couldn’t find you anywhere, and Sanji was available. So he offered to help me,” you said. “By the way, where were you?”

Zoro shifted in his chair awkwardly. “Just busy taking care of something, that’s all,” he mumbled. You could see the blush creeping up towards his face, and you clued in on what he was referring to. Neither of you had gotten any alone time in quite a while, between preparations for your last fight, and dealing with the aftermath, it had been several weeks since either of you got any release. You were dying for some relief yourself, if you could only reach your hand down to do it, but the bandages got in the way. Before you could say anything to him about that, Sanji called everyone to dinner, and Zoro got up to help you hobble your way towards the dining room, before finally just picking you up to carry you there.

Dinner was mostly uneventful, and you spent it trying to come up with a way to ask Zoro to help you with your problem. He could handle himself just fine, but you would need a little assistance. You figured asking to spend some time together in his room, alone, would be the best option. From there you could broach the subject. “You wanna spend some alone time together?” he’d asked. “If it means you’ll rest, then sure.”

He carried you to his room, carefully laying you on his hammock. After some pleading, he reluctantly agreed to climb in with you, gingerly setting himself next to you and pulling you into his arms. He placed a soft kiss on top of your head. “Better?” he asked. You nodded your head in response. You both stayed like that for a while before he spoke up. “What did you want to talk about?” he asked.

“What do you mean?” you asked in response.

“Don’t play dumb, I know there’s something you want to ask me, or tell me. So just say it,” he continued.

“Oh, I um… it-it’s nothing, really,” you sputtered. You tried to look away, but his hand cupped your cheek, and he pulled your face to look at his. You found yourself unable to look away from him despite your best efforts. “I just… we haven’t really gotten to be intimate in a while, and now I have all these stupid injuries so we still can’t do anything. And I’d get myself off, but I can’t with these bandages in the way…” you rambled. Your face heated up as you spoke, unable to stop the spew of words from your mouth.

“So, you’re horny? Why didn’t you just say so?” Zoro chuckled.

“I don’t know…” you whined. His hand still on your cheek, he pulled you in for a tender kiss, one that quickly became heated. His other hand reached down to carefully squeeze your ass, and you gasped, giving him the opportunity to slot his tongue in your mouth. You made out for a while, feeling lust pooling at your core. You wanted him more than anything now, but you weren’t physically capable yet.

“We have to be careful; I don’t want your injuries to flare up,” he cautioned. “But I can still help you get some relief, okay?” You nodded eagerly, and he carefully pulled your pants and underwear down in one swift motion. His hand quickly dipped down to your core, groaning as he felt how wet you were. He carefully studied your face for any signs of discomfort before dipping a finger into your folds, gathering up some of the wetness and then circling his finger around your clit. You let out a breathy moan and arched your back, finally getting the touch you had been craving. He dipped two fingers inside and curled them up, massaging everywhere he knew would get you going. His mouth returned to yours, kissing you softly as he coaxed your first release out of you. You cried out in pleasure, and he smiled down at you, pulling his hand back. “That’s it,” he hummed. “Feel better?”

You nodded in affirmation, but you couldn’t help to want more. You knew it was risky, but you brought your hand down to his erection anyway and began to stroke him. He was quick to swat your hand away. “What do you think you’re doing?” he demanded.

“Please Zoro, I need you. We can be careful, yeah? Wanna feel you fill me up,” you begged.

He simply shook his head at you. “It’s too risky with your injuries. But I promise as soon as you’re healed up fully, you’ll get as much of me as you can handle.”

“Zo, please?” you whimpered.

“Shh,” Zoro shushed you. He brought his hand back down and dipped his fingers in again, expertly moving them in and out of you at a quick pace. “Promise babe, soon as you’re healed, I’ll fill you up so full. Gonna stuff you full of my cum til you can’t hold anymore, let you sleep every night with my cock deep inside you. Just be patient for me.” His words brought you over the edge again, and you released all over his hand. He quickly kissed you to swallow the moans you let out. He rested his forehead against yours and smiled as you caught your breath.

“You promise?” you asked.

“Of course. Now try and get some rest,” he murmured. He pulled you into his arms again and you sighed contently. It didn’t take long for both of you to drift off to sleep, dreaming of how wonderful everything would be once you were all better.

[dlscenarios]

Can you write Mikey with a reader who enjoys taking care of him and being affectionate but they aren't dating, so he assumes it's just her personality.

He does love her but finds out she only does that with him because she loves him too. Which leads to a returned confession while he takes her home on his bike.

With a smutty detour or five😅💖

Kiss It Better

THIS HAS BEEN IN MY INBOX FOR SO LONG IM SO SORRY. This gave me SO MUCH UNNECESSARY TROUBLE OML.

MDNI

Cw: SPOILERS FOR THE FINAL FEW CHAPTERS, MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH (not detailed), Smut, AFAB Reader, Oral Sex (AFAB Receiving), Surprisingly very tame smut ngl. I MIGHT write a side drabble that's dirtier smut.

Manjiro Sano saw himself as a monster. He had lost so much within the span of a few years and was still only a kid. Through his family and friends' murders, he had to quell his depression every day in order to be the leader he desperately wanted to be. Like his brother had once been. To his surprise, you stayed with him through it all, holding him as tight as you had when you were little. You were his only source of comfort.

It started as you going to the same elementary school. One day, Mikey had invited you over to his house for a playdate, allowing you to meet his other friends and his siblings. The two of you grew older and Manjiro had created his own gang - inspired by his big brother - and you were the boys' personal nurse. You would patch up Mikey and his friends with a smile on your face, softly kissing the leader's bandaged cuts like a mother would.

Even as everything fell apart for Manjiro, you opted to stay by his side. While he never argued, he had a gut feeling that him being this close to you wouldn't end well. He had become an infamous gang leader, even after he had disbanded Toman for the sake of his friends. He would always be the "Invincible Mikey" and other gangs hated him for it.

He should have trusted his gut and cut you off. One day, after the creation of the Kanto Manji gang, Manjiro had learned that you had been murdered. A note addressed to him was found by your body, not stating who had ended your life at such a young age but declaring war on Mikey.

Losing you was the final straw. After your death, Manjiro felt nothing. His dark impulses could no longer be suppressed. The only thing on his mind was to kill anyone that dared to look at him the wrong way.

During the battle against Takemichi and the original Toman, Maniro Sano's life finally got better. After coming to his senses - after stabbing Takemichi - he and the time leaper traveled into the past, farther than even Takemichi had been able to go. The two were little kids again and, this time, Mikey swore to help Takemichi save everyone, especially you.

Meeting you again, seeing your bright smile again, was all Mikey had wished for since your death. His heart fluttered when you walked up to him in class and introduced yourself. He couldn't stop himself from immediately pulling you into a tight hug, which he later apologized for after pulling away. The two of you grew up just like in the other timeline, you being Toman's personal nurse, except this time, everyone survived.

The date that you died in the other reality had been engraved into Manjiro's brain. Now that everyone was alive and happy, he thought it would be a day like any other. To his surprise, that was the very day you confessed your feelings.

Mikey's heart dropped. Did you have feelings for him in the other timeline? Would you have confessed then had you not been killed?

You sat anxiously next to him, his dark eyes wide and beginning to shine with tears. Suddenly, he wrapped his arms around you, as tight as his hug was when you'd first met.

His voice was shaky as he finally replied, "I love you." You smiled and returned his embrace, burying your nose in his shoulder.

From that day on, Mikey's friends knew you as his partner. They could all tell he was over the moon to be with you, Takemichi had even cried and hugged his best friend.

Eventually, it was 2018, the year Takemichi was originally from. He and Manjiro had finally gotten an ending where everyone was alive and happy. Mikey swore he had never cried as much as he did at Takemichi's wedding. His existence had done something good for once. The entire day, he kept stealing glances of you, admiring how pretty you were all dressed up and smiling at how surreal it felt to officially be yours.

It's been a long time coming.

After arriving home from the wedding, Manjiro stopped you before you could walk further into the house, spinning you around to kiss you.

"I love you." He muttered, locking the door behind him.

You smiled, "I love you too."

He returned your grin and placed his hands on your waist, resting his forehead on yours, "You're so pretty."

Mikey suddenly picked you up and carried you off to the bedroom. After gently laying you down, he kissed you again, deeper than the first. His affections moved across your face, down your neck, and had eventually reached your chest. He nuzzled into your collar as he unzipped you from your outfit.

Once you were left in your underwear, his hands moved down to ghost up your legs. You spread your legs as Mikey gently pushed you further into the mattress before he nipped at your chest. One of his hands snaked up to paw at your breast as his kisses got lower.

His finger hooked into your underwear and shifted it aside, allowing him to place a soft kiss to your clit. His dark eyes were locked on your face as his tongue teased you. Your fingers laced themselves in his dark hair, making him groan into you when you would lightly pull.

One of your legs moved on its own, draping itself over Manjiro's shoulder. He briefly parted from your skin to kiss your thigh.

"You're so pretty, baby." He purred, his hand replacing his spot in between your legs, thumb catching your clit. He smirked as you moaned lowly. "Love you so much."

He moved up to kiss you, the thumb that was just on your clit now gently rubbing your cheek. You could feel the bulge in his pants as he pressed his body into yours. His nose lightly touched yours as he chuckled.

"My pretty baby."

Your arms wrapped around him as one of his hands went to pull down his pants, enough space to take out his cock. He teased your core with the tip, grinning at the mewl you let out, before slowly sliding into you. Manjiro knew he wasn't the biggest, but he knew he could easily touch every one of your most sensitive spots.

Your legs wrapped around his waist as he thrusted into you, holding you close with one arm, his other gripping the sheets beside your head. His pace was slow but fast enough to not be teasing.

Manjiro kissed the side of your head, "Love you so fucking much. 'M so glad you're mine." He let go of your body to travel his hand down to your clit, rubbing the nub faster than he had been thrusting.

His hand quickly brought you to your orgasm. Your hips rolled into his as he coaxed you through your high. You whined as it faded and Mikey kissed your cheek.

"So good for me, baby. You did so good. I'm so close." He whispered, his pace quickening slightly. Eventually, his hips thrusted deeper than they had, his hot cum flowing into you as Manjiro groaned into your shoulder.

Both of you stilled, waiting for your heartbeats to calm down. Mikey’s hand caressed your hip as he smiled down at you. Your own hands were in his hair while you returned his grin.

He finally got a happy ending.

[saragarnier]

Away from you pt. 3

pairing: jay halstead x reader

summary: Jay found you in your old apartment, packing all your belongings

Warning: None

A/N: well, i guess i have to write also part 4 now, stay tuned!

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

Previous part Next Part

One month passed after you left Chicago and Jay never gave up on you. Every single day, he tried to track your phone with Mouse, he tried to call you, hoping for your answer, and he used his power as a detective of the intelligence to find out if you used one of your credit cards somewhere.

For a month, Jay went home with the hope of finding you there, of discovering that you choose to give him another chance and every day he found himself alone in the house, with all your belongings still there. Sometimes he took out one of your t-shirts to feel your smell again and he discovered that he missed every single part of you. He missed the way you always prepared coffee for him too before leaving for work, he missed hearing your voice, he missed seeing your smile, he missed hugging you and cuddling with you on the bed before going to sleep, he missed your messages during the shift, and he missed searching for you at the Chicago Med every single time he went there for work.

He missed everything of you.

He missed you.

That day, Jay got home earlier after being shot on the job and he wasn’t prepared at all to find suitcases in the Hallway. He looked around and he spotted your ring, the one he gave to you and the one that was his mom’s before, on the kitchen counter, with a note nearby.

He walked towards it, and he lift the note to read it; there were only few words on it.

“Maybe you should give it to Hailey.”

Jay felt his heart skipping a beat, then he looked up when he heard something coming from the bedroom; he silently walked towards it, still shocked by the fact that you were there, you finally came home, and he finally had the chance to talk to you after weeks of silence. He thought he lost you forever and having the opportunity to talk to you was something he dreamed of for four weeks.

When he entered the bedroom, you were trying to grabbed a box that was high in the wardrobe, too high for you to reach for it. You gave up and turned around to grabbed a chair, but you stopped when you finally saw Jay in front of you, few meters away. He was still at the door frame, looking at you like he was actually looking at a ghost; he was skinnier than you remembered, and he looked like he didn’t sleep well for weeks.

You, on the other hand, looked beautiful as always. You were skinnier too but, besides that, you looked good.

“Y/n…” Jay was the first one to talk, whispering your name and looking at how your body reacted to his voice; you shivered at your name being said by him, the love of your life.

Even if you tried hard to forget him, Jay was still the love of your life and you couldn’t forget him or prevented you from reacting this way, especially when he was in front of you, as good as always. He was skinnier and he looked tired, but he was still beautiful to your eyes, even after what he did to you, even after seeing him having sex with someone else. You wanted to scream at him, you wanted to slap him in the face, and you wanted to go out of the apartment as soon as you could, but you were frozen and it looked like you couldn’t move or talk at all.

Minutes passed and there was silence between you two, then, finally, you found your voice again. “You should have been at work…” You said, gulping. “Will said you would have been at work and that the apartment would have been empty…”

Jay finally found the courage to make a small step towards you and, when he saw that you stayed where you were, he made another one, stopping right in front of you.

“I got shot on the job…” he said, lifting his shirt to show her a bandage around his abdomen. “I got shot and they sent me home to rest…”

Even after what he did to you, you couldn’t help but being worried for him; you made a step forward and you placed a hand on his abdomen, worried as hell. “W-What? Did you go to the hospital?”

Jay shivered, feeling your hand on his body. God, how he missed your touch.

“It wasn’t necessary… It’s nothing to be worried about, Sylvie looked at it on the ambulance and said that everything should have been good.”

“What? Didn’t you go to the hospital for a full check-up? Are you crazy?!” You exclaimed, pushing him on the bed and looking at him from above. “Take off your shirt, I’m going to check on you.”

You would have preferred to leave him and leave your apartment immediately, but you just couldn’t leave him there without being sure that everything was okay; you lift your sleeves and you took out the first-aid kit.

Jay tried to repress a smile, but he wasn’t able to. He looked at you, happy to see that you were still worried about him, happy to see that you actually cared about him still, even after what he did to you. Besides, having you trying to help him with the wound would have been an excellent excuse to talk to you before you left forever, because he knew that if you would have left that apartment, it would have been for forever.

He couldn’t let you do it, he couldn’t let you leave, not if he didn’t have the chance to explain everything to you.

“As you command…” He whispered, biting his lips and finally taking off his shirt. The bandage Sylvie put on him had a blood stain on the left side of his abdomen, where he was probably hit. Jay moaned in pain when you cut off the bandage, kneeling in front of him to have a better view and placing both your hand at the side of the wound. It still hurt, but nothing he wouldn’t have been able to handle.

“It went through…” You whispered, looking at the wound carefully. “Didn’t Sylvie talked about putting some stitches?”

“Yeah, maybe…” He whispered. “ She said that she recommended them, but I needed to go to the hospital, and I didn’t want to hear Will talking about how reckless I am on the job…”

“Well, Will’s got a point.” You said, shaking your head and grabbing all you needed to put some stiches. “You’re lucky I have everything I need here with me.”

“I’m lucky I fell in love with a doctor…” He corrected you.

Jay knew that he went too far when he saw your face; he wanted to apologize but he was interrupted by a moan of pain when you started to put stitches on him, not in the painless way possible. You had put stitches on him before and he perfectly knew that you were better than that, but he didn’t complain about it, after all he deserved to be punished for what he did to you, he deserved to feel some pain after how he treated you, after how you must have felt.

“Do not say it again.” You said, without looking at him once. “You have no rights to tell me that after what you did to me.”

You stayed focused on what you had to do, trying to not think about him having sex with Hailey, an image that followed you in New York and that persecuted you every time you slept. You remembered him on top of her every night and every night you heard him saying that he loved her again and again.

“I’m sorry…” He whispered looking at you and smiling when he saw you biting your bottom lip something you always do when you’re focused on something. “I wanted to talk to you and explain everything to you, but I couldn’t call you… I couldn’t find where you were.”

“Because I didn’t want to be found.” You spoke. “And I don’t want to hear anything from you; there’s nothing to explain. You slept with her for God knows how long.”

“That night was the first and the last one.” He immediately said.

“Liar.” You whispered, shaking your head and being rude with the next stich; you heard him moan in pain again, but you didn’t care. You were helping him even after what you did, and he still had the courage to lie to you? you couldn’t accept it. “Kim told me that you left work at 8 pm for weeks and I thought that you stayed at work trying to have a promotion while you were actually sleeping with your partner!”

“It’s true that I lied to you for weeks, but I never slept with Hailey before that night; we used to talk, just talk.” He replied, shaking his head and grabbing your chin gently, trying to look at you in the eyes.

“Do you really think I’m this stupid, Jay?” You spoke, shaking your head and trying to lower your gaze on the wound again. “And leave me, I need to look at the wound if you want to heal properly.”

Jay let go of your chin, sighing heavily and trying to think about what to say. How could he explain you what was happening in his head? How could he explain you for what reason he did what he did?

“I don’t think you’re stupid, y/n…” He whispered softly, looking at you when you finished putting stitches at him. “It’s true that we only talked for few weeks, I didn’t want to cheat on you, I didn’t plan it. I’m sorry, I really am because you don’t deserve this, you don’t deserve to suffer like you do, but you need to know what happened, so please listen to me…”

You didn’t want to listen to him, you didn't want to pay any attention to his words, you wanted to leave and you wanted to come back to New York City and forget about everything that happened here in Chicago, but you couldn’t leave without having a proper explanation. You spent weeks wondering with you had done wrong that brought him to cheat on you.

“Talk…” You spoke, while putting back the first-aid kid. “You have five minutes.”

“Working in the Intelligence is not easy as I want everyone to think… what you see on the streets…” He said, sadly. “I needed to talk about it, but I didn’t want to put all of this on you; I didn’t want to add my problems to yours, especially since I know that working at Chicago Med it’s not easy at all. I didn’t want to add all the problems of my job on you, I needed someone to talk and Hailey was there: she worked with me, she was my partner and she saw everything that I saw. I could talk about job with her and I could explain everything that came to my mind, but I never, never actually thought about cheating on you.” He said, looking at you in the eyes and placing a hand on your cheeks.

“Then why did you sleep with her? Why did you tell her that you loved her?” You whispered, not understanding why he slept with her if that was the truth.

“She kissed me and after that I don’t actually know what happened, it happened to fast. I know that I messed up everything and I have no excuses. That night I was with her because I tried to help a little girl that was kidnapped, but she was shot in front of me and she died in my arms. I was too shocked, it was too much, especially when I had to tell her parents that I couldn’t have save her.” He said, looking down at the floor. “When I told her that I loved her, I was actually thinking about you and, when we finished I… I couldn’t look at her… I came home and I was actually thinking about telling you everything the next morning, but you weren’t there. I was so worried that something bad happened to you that I was out of my mind.”

You listened to him carefully, then you got up and you cover your face behind your hands, confused. What was you supposed to do? Why didn’t he talk to you? Why did he choose Hailey over you? Was it real that he just talked to her for weeks? Was it real that he cheated on you just that night?

You didn’t know what to think, nor what to do, you just kept walking around the room, again and again.

“y/n…” He whispered softly, getting up and walking towards you. He wrapped his arms around your body and he hugged you gently. “I’m so sorry… please, tell me what I can do to gain your trust again. I still love you, y/n, and I can’t lose you. give me another chance and I will show you that I deserved it. Please.”

“I don’t know, jay… i… I don’t know!” You replied. “Let… let me think about it, okay?”

“Yes!” He said, smiling. “Yes, of course.”

Maybe there was still hope for them.

Maybe not everything was lost.

Maybe he could still repair everything.

Maybe he didn’t lose you, after all.

[cosycafune]

THE COLLAPSE OF INTIMACY; TOJI FUSHIGURO:

— Toji’s never been emotionally constructed to comfort you after intimacy, since he’s scared to lose you, but what happens when you reach your breaking point?

a summary of acts: the aftermath of sex, light aftercare, angst, cum dripping out of reader, neglect, pleading, crying, a lack of emotional stability + potential more. ignore errors <3

Adapting to the frowned upon wails of the thundering rain, you cast your lonesome being into laying pathetically upon your bed. Your bed as you analyse the melodic rain drops, the thickness of drying cum adorning your bundled thighs.

Frowning, your limbs mature into an useless state, your ailing heart mourning the distantness of Toji's presence. His presence as he had fled from your shared room for a few minutes, leaving your vulnerability to curl and unearth the tragedy within your pained physique.

Concealing the roughness of your crashing numbness, you bundle up the severity of your urging tears. Tears that urge whilst the value of your physique degrades itself, swelling nothing more into a withering aspect of glee.

Aware of Toji's sexual distantness, your nimble fingers erupt with a clumsy sense of arising. Arising as you further lay, the cruel coolness adorning the curved planes of your hickey-toned back. A back that Toji had so admirably relished, carving it with a tender love and cherished fondness.

Stifling back the pitiful vulnerability that endows your troubled physique, you embark within the coldness that provides you mental warmth. A warmth that errs to align with Toji's conflicting touch, partially with how frequent he usually gifts you aftercare.

Yet, during many of the moments within the week, he would be gleeful towards gifting you aftercare. However, he currently remains desolate — accustoming you to question the worthiness of your strained being.

"It...hurts," Mustering meek sounds of desperation, you painfully render yourself into unhurriedly shifting off of the bed.

An ailing pain slithers and coddles your searing physique, bandaging you with simply the ability to sombrely weep. To weep as your unsteady limbs fall crashing upon the ground, incapable of steadying the weakness of your overplayed legs.

"W-Will...I ever not cry or be left alone?" Attempting to gather yourself into steering towards the bathroom, you discover yourself incapable of conducting something so simply.

Tragically, your throat begins to mature into a barren condition. Barren towards Toji accustoming himself to leave you so desolate, erring to acknowledge the unfathomable brigades of pain that etch within you.

"You can't look me in the eyes during sex, tell me that you want me, just to leave me here with your cum," With your naked physique upon the frowned upon flooring, you mindlessly plaster yourself into glimpsing at the content ceiling.

"Y-You can't stuff me with your cum, but be so afraid to look at me when we're done and I'm my most vulnerable," Hysterically ensuing your dearest cries, your disregarded physique could only express itself within an useless form.

Through your unheard tears.

"H-He doesn't even want to cuddle me, to clean me up or to kiss my forehead—"

Listening to the piercing sounds of pitiful soundlessness, you curl yourself so earnestly upon the ground. Upon the ground whilst your lips curl and fluster with vulnerability, taken aback by how degraded you sadly fall.

"H-How did you get on the floor?" Stoically, Toji conducts his airy tone. His airy tone whilst he remains within a pair of sweatpants, his attire mocking the entirety of your unsheathed presence.

"Y-You left me here...for twenty minutes!" Weeping, unwilling to be drawn nearer to him, your anger blossoms as his frame surfaces beside your contorted facial features.

"G-Go away!" Bellowing with the means of a thousand neglected beings, you cast your frustrations upon his guarded being, "You already look at me like I'm dirty, so stay away, Toji." Frantically trembling, you mildly flinch towards him delicately stroking your cheek.

"Am I dirty, Toji?" Incapable of concealing your urge for truth and wisdom to lick upon you, your infinite pout dissolves, "You're only truly happy when we fuck, but you left me here." Attempting to shift out of his callous hold, you discover him drifting nearer and nearer to you.

"N-No—"

"—Then, why did you cum in me, shower yourself and leave the room?" Sobbing audibly, you endeavour to resurface room to restfully breathe. To restfully breathe whilst you're smothered with embarrassment, embraced because your cries lull him.

"..." Further feeling the sentiment of your heart shatter, your morals pool within your mushy head. A headspace that mimics clouded terrains, clouded because of the harshness that adorns them.

"I-I want to be a princess," With your lip trembling with inflated fear, you acknowledge Toji audibly chuckling at your unprovoked wording.

"Why?" Softly attempting to soothe your disarray, Toji clings to the concept of you utilising such an intense moment.

"Because I want to be treated right, and not like some useless sex toy," Incapable of arising, you falter further towards the lack of emotions he portrays.

"You're—"

"—You can't stand me, but you love cumming in me," Unable to steady the clumsiness of your fleeting voice, your lips quiver at the distribution of mental power.

“Is that what you think I do?” Toji questions with a pivotal concern, his eyes widening towards the delicateness you forcefully display.

You were a dying, reckless star. A star he allows to burn his calloused hands, charring at the beauty of his scar-littered skin.

Your extensive love hurts him, but he holds no means to heal the beautiful burning sensation that tints his skin.

This feels like home to him. A cruel, sickly home that he’s roped you within — despite his extensive love for you being unable to peel and dilute itself.

“I don’t feel like this for no reason, Toji,” Yearning to be heard through your pleads, you curl at the patronisingly comfortable sensation of Toji writhing his nimble fingers across your cheek.

“You’re right, but I need time to learn,” Blurring out Toji’s indecisive words, you stir your heart into pounding crazily. Crazily as his words invite heartbreak and tragedy.

He always makes hollow promises, contradicting the love he yearns to show you.

The lack of intimacy he shows you…hurts more than his occasional bluntness on one of his worst days.

—

all rights reserved; vampiified. please do not copy my work, simply relish it and admire.

[awoogayanderes]

CHAPTER ONE : LET THE SHOW BEGIN

➪ sypnosis : you start to trust the process that has been laid out for you, beginning with nine cards.

➪ warnings : mention of sex work, very small mention of starving if you squint, small mention of death

➪ other notes : just a repetition statement from the prologue - the lower numbers of 1-5 are all the same but y/n is 6, so actual 6 in the show will be 8, and the 8 in the show will now be 9, 7 stays as 7, i hope that makes sense, anyways back to the story !! ALSO, i’m mainly writing this for myself BECAUSE THERES NO FICS ABOUT IT, but i also wanna share my imagination with other people :3

➪ prologue | chapter one

the drive felt almost eerie, your leg lightly bounced as time went on. the driver hadn’t spoken a single word, not that you could see them through the panel of blackout glass between you two. your stomach churned, from hunger and from nervousness. maybe you were walking right into sex trafficking rink ? you had no weapons on you, not even a pocket knife but you had some type of concept of self defense you were taught when you were younger.

that’s when the limousine came to a sudden stop. a second later, the door on your side opened by itself once again. from what you could see, it was some type of warehouse…? maybe an old factory ? now you were confident you were going to be prostituted. regardless, you got out of the limousine, a red carpet awaiting you. slowly, you walked inside.

a theatre ? now you were extremely confused, there was no one in the seats, yet the stage was bright with overwhelming lights, a single small table in the middle of it. you walked up to the table, there were nine cards with the range from one to nine. beside it was a red envelope…and 20 million won on the other side. you opened the envelope, and read the contents.

“hello, and welcome to the 8 show. this show doesn't require any skills or previously acquired knowledge. all that we ask of you is the time you were willing to throw away.” what the hell was this ? “all necessary food and accommodations will be provided to participants, and the available prize money will accumulate as time passes.” so the more time spent, the more money, after all, time is money.

“when the allotted time is over, the show will end itself automatically. in the case that any participant expires during the process, the show will immediately come to an end then, regardless of how much time may remain.” expires…? that was more morbid than you’d like to admit. “therefore, we ask that you pay special attention to your safety. if you do not wish to participate, please take the cab fare from the table and exit the premises.” your eyes turned to the 20 million won, contemplating it.

“however, if you do wish to continue with the show, please select one of the numbered cards. you may then step into and through the drapes,” your eyes flickered back to the cards. all nine cards were there. that meant that no one else had been here right ? or did it mean that every other person had the same options as you when they came in ? were there even other people who were going to participate ?!

you looked around, yet you couldn’t see anyone in sight, then there has to be cameras right ? obviously, if not, then anyone would just come in and take the money and leave, who wouldn’t ? well, apparently you. fuck it, you’ve gotten this far, it’s probably better than death, you try to reason with yourself as you look at the cards again. they mean something, they have to or what would the point be.

the median of one through nine is five, right in the center. you hover your hand over the five card. but higher could be better, switching your hand to nine. but isn’t one a good option too ?you could get an advantage as one, you’ve seen it in game shows before ! your shaky bandaged fingers pick up the one card. you held it for a few seconds before your eyes flickered to another card at the bottom left.

six. just above average. just above middle ground. just above middle class, like your family was when you were little. you dropped the one card, picking up the six, now a bit more confident with your choice. “this better not be a prank…” you mumbled to no one in particular. you walked into the red curtains behind you, it led you to an area of darkness with only a few stairs being illuminated in front of you.

when you climbed the stairs, your lips slightly parted in shock. it looked almost like…an apartment complex…? nine different rooms, so that’s what the cards meant, you knew they were significant. the common area, if you could call it that included an artificial pool, a playground, a merry go round, and what looked like an ice cream and hot dog street vendor…? the rest was just open space.

overwhelmed by the bright colors, you marched your way to the sixth floor, sliding your card on the door lock reader, it almost felt like a hotel. the room was completely empty and dark. you sighed, at least it was pretty spacious. you could get used to a place like this, it was comfortable in an odd way, just four walls and you, everything was fine after all, you’d be fine, you were at peace with the silence.

[knavesflames]

Hey knavesflames. New follower here.

Hope you are having a great day.

This is my first time ever requesting a writing and I know you could cook up a wonderful piece with it.

So basically got this idea after listening to Mitski's Washing Machine Heart (yes my life is mitski coded). So anyways, the prompt goes like how Arlecchino views the reader as a replacement for the Clervie, something along those lines (and the lyrics of the above mentioned song). All three of them were also living together in the House of Hearth during the reign of the previous Knave (I forgot her name) who Arlecchino defeated.

(I don't know if anyone else have come up with this idea).

Would love to see an angst filled story with this.

Thank you!!!!!

P.S - love your writings💙

Hello! My day is fine thank you:) the fact you trust me to cook here made me smile very much, I hope I cooked enough. Thank you for liking my stuff!!

Contents: angst, non graphic moment of sex that just turns sad as hell, arlecchino sharpen urself up

Word count: 2873

Fic under the cut:D

She was different from you and Clervie. You and Clervie were very similar, most of the kids called you twins. Happy, cheerful, protective, always talking to the other children. Peruere was not like that. She was reserved, almost cold-blooded, quiet. It quickly became obvious she cared about you both when she would quietly invite you to watch her spider do something, or when she would catch three fish instead of one, because you and Clervie were simply too loud for one to stay still. You were a trio, one the entire House of the Hearth knew, and ‘Mother’ knew. She let you all be friends, for now. But it didn’t mean she stopped punishing Clervie. If anything, she was punished more. Often coming back to your room (where you all mostly sat, because your room was the biggest) with shaky hands and a tight lipped smile after having a photo frame thrown at her, or a red face where ‘Mother’ had slapped her. Or, as she got older, even worse, when she would come back with cuts and scrapes that you and Peruere would bandage for her silently. You learned that making the bandages look pretty cheered her up, despite her always having an outward smile. And when she opened the window that night, promising that you’d all go to Snezhnaya and see the dancing lights in the sky, something in Peruere changed that day.

She became more protective, more cautious of things.. when Clervie was involved. As you entered your teenage years, you would often come back to your room, devoid of people, only to hear two people giggling in the next one. You were still a trio, you always had been and always will be. But growing up means indulging in feelings, and they seemed to have more feelings for each other than for you. They were not cruel, no. They did not mean for it to be this way. They invited you out on walks and you caught fish together like usual, but it just felt.. different. The small jokes they made, clearly private jokes you didn’t and wouldn’t understand did not go unnoticed. Neither did the small pit of loneliness that began growing inside of you. You were jealous, yes. Your two best (and only) friends seemed to like each other more than they liked you, if only in a romantic sense, and they let it cloud them when they were with you too. A bitter person, you are not, so you endured it. You still loved and cared for both of them (especially Peruere, but you refused to let Clervie feel the way you felt then) and wanted the best for them, you just wished that for a second, things could go back to the way they were.

But they didn’t. Especially not when you and Peruere stood frozen over Clervie’s fallen body, both of you trembling and breathing fitfully. ‘Mother’’s fight to be king has finally infiltrated your friendship, and Clervie was the one to fall. With Peruere holding the blade, you were convinced you’re next, with your eyes widened and filled with unshed tears (though, the past couple of years, all of your tears have been unshed).

“Peruere, please don’t.”

“I’m going to murder her.”

“..who?”

“Mother.”

“Moth-..”

Your voice trails off as it shakes, your ears thoroughly listening to Peruere’s admittance of her plan, of the future matricide she did in fact go on to commit. You were the one to bury Clervie and place lumidouce bells around her body, closing her eyes and placing the small teddies you three had of each other next to her. Arlecchino was the one who avenged her, brutally murdering her before quickly being imprisoned.

Eventually, after taking Crucabena’s place as the Knave, after becoming ‘Father’, changing her name to Arlecchino, you both began dating. A drunken night turned into dating and living together. Perhaps it was grief stricken, perhaps she really did feel that type of affection for you, the way you have for her for so long. The way you have silently yearned for her has not gone unnoticed by the people around you. What is also noticed, what has been noticed since the day you met Clervie, is your similarities. You both are very similar, you always have been. Kind, cheerful, you both even say the same things, enjoy the same foods. Most used to joke that you were secretly twins, you and Arlecchino know that, but the joke came to an end when Clervie met hers. It was never spoken of again, and neither was she. Barely, anyway. Years went past, and it seemed both of you were happy in the relationship you both had carved from tragedy. Though, you ignored the niggling feeling in your chest when Arlecchino would come home and surprise you with a bouquet of flowers. It wasn’t the fact you received flowers, no, that made your heart warm. It was about which flowers and what she said along with it.

“I saw some lumidouce bells as I walked home. Here, dear, your favourite.”

The phrase alone is all good and well, but.. they are not your favourite flowers. They never have been. You have always preferred lakelight lilies, and she should have known that after over a decade knowing you. Lumidouce bells were the favourite of Clervie, not you. The strange feeling in your chest swells with every new bouquet you receive, until receiving flowers is no longer a pleasant thing. The feeling is pushed back again and again, until she comes home one evening, the keys jingling against the door. The familiar sound of the paper around the bouquet is audible again, and you feel your stomach sink slightly when you see the familiar lumidouce bells.

“Look what the florist had today, dear.”

“So they did. Thank you, love.”

You take them with a small lump in your throat and a tight smile, delicately placing them in water and giving one a small pat, a habit you picked up many years ago as a nod to your best friend. Your mind wanders, though, and eventually, you bite the bullet and ask.

“Did they have any lakelight lilies?”

“They always do. Why?”

You wonder why she doesn’t buy those instead.

“No, no reason. They’re pretty, don’t you think?”

You are not talking about the flowers when you ask this, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear and smiling softly. She glances up with the faintest smile of her own before continuing to undo her heels, the heels you know she has killed many with.

“Not as pretty as lumidouce bells, in my opinion.”

You have to turn swiftly to hide the twist of your expression, the hurt that flashes over it as you grit your teeth together so hard they should have turned to dust already. You manage out an “alright” before beelining towards the kitchen to make dinner. You don’t even know if she knew you were not asking about the appearance of the flowers, if she understood you were asking about your own, to try to find some affirmation in the sea of self loathing. It stung nonetheless, but you realise you cannot be angry if you didn’t say it outright. Still, the thought lingers, eating away at you as you zone out, letting your hands chop the carrot too finely before shaking yourself out of it. You can’t stay upset for long though, when her hands snake around you and she praises you for your food making skills, murmuring that it smells good. So, the thought is forgotten, left behind for a night of overthinking that will inevitably come. For now, though, for tonight, you enjoy dinner. Steak tartare, (you scrapped the carrot), laughing lightly when she draws an ‘x’ over it with sauce to match her eyes. The rest of the evening goes the way all of your evenings go. Contentedly, quietly. She agreed long ago to not bring Fatui doings into the home. You grew up with that and you don’t want to deal with that again, which she respects, so, you don’t speak about work, a relief for both you and her. You watch a movie, a boring movie neither of you really like, that leads to channelling the inner teenager and making out on the sofa. You can’t hide the giggle that escapes you when she lifts you up, carrying you and placing you on the bed before proceeding to undress you. Before long, you’re naked, moaning her name softly in pleasure, both names of hers. ‘Peruere’ is reserved only for this, only for moments of intimacy or when you’re alone. In return, she loves to whisper sweet nothings against the shell of your ear, enjoying the way your body squirms against her.

“It’s good. Please keep going.”

“Good girl. You’re so pretty, the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen, Clervie.”

Oh.. oh. You freeze. She doesn’t. Despite her movements still continuing, the pleasure is gone as quickly as it came and your ears begin to ring as you pale. A shaky hand comes to her chest, pushing her away as you shake your head, swallowing hard.

“Stop. Stop it. I don’t want—“

She stops immediately, a concerned look on her face. Her hand moves to comfort you, to ask what’s wrong but your own hand slaps hers away gently.

“What…? What happened?”

The way you sit up, your once pink cheeks now pale, your eyes wide and your breathing shallow concerns her. When you don’t speak, she stays silent, staring at you as your mouth opens and closes. You know you heard her right, it was clearer than the sky in Fontaine during June. The worst part is that she doesn’t even realise she’s done it. Your stomach is twisting, your chest aching harder than it has in years as you finally manage to speak.

“You called me by her name.”

“I did not.”

“You did.”

When you think about everything in hindsight, the way she (accidental or not is still hard to tell) indirectly said you weren’t pretty earlier with the flowers, and now, during sex of all things, told you that you were the prettiest girl she had ever seen, only to call you by someone else’s name makes you realise it wasn’t you she was talking to at all. She wasn’t calling you pretty, she was calling Clervie pretty. And she wasn't thinking about you at all. Suddenly, the fact you’re naked becomes all too apparent and your hands clutch at the various blankets, covering yourself out of insecurity. A wave of nausea fills you for a second before you speak again.

“I’m not her. You know that, right?”

“I know.”

“I was naked underneath you and you were not even thinking of me.”

“I was, I..”

How many times has she thought about Clervie while having sex with you? How many times has she wished it was Clervie underneath her instead? Your brain begins a whirlwind of thoughts, barely giving each one time to form before another one comes. Then, the words spill out of your mouth before you can stop yourself, your shaky, quiet voice echoing the room and cutting through the awkward tension.

“Do you wish it was me that died instead of her? Do you even know me at all?”

“Of course I know you.”

She didn’t answer the first question, it dawns on you. It hurts too much to bring it up again, not when you know how her avoidance of the question is an affirmative.

“What is my favourite flower, Peruere?”

Her true name comes out of your mouth in what seems to be an attempt at a sneer, but ends up as a sad whisper, your voice quivering with the force of your contained tears. Arlecchino’s own voice is quiet, softer than it usually is.

“Lumidouce bells.”

“No.”

“You loved them as a child, you had a necklace—“

“No, Clervie had a necklace. I like lakelight lilies.”

Arlecchino’s own face pales slightly at the memory of your earlier question. The way your face looked at her with your crooked smile that held that slight tinge of hope, only for you to immediately turn (not before your face fell, she noticed that, but didn’t understand) and walk away. She goes to speak, but you cut her off, a tearful, small voice that’s so unlike you.

“When is my birthday?”

“April 23rd.”

“That is Clervie’s birthday. My birthday is in December.”

“But—“

“You don’t think I’m pretty. You think she is pretty. You have not moved on, you still love her. You— you do not love me and you do not know me at all.”

The silence that follows confirms everything, and a choked sob fills the air at the newfound knowledge. You let your head fall to your knees, quiet sobs wracking your frame as Arlecchino sits beside you, a hand hovering over your back.

“My dear.”

“Do not call me such a thing, Peruere. Not when it is not me you wish to be saying it to. Say my name. Say my name, and tell me you love me and mean it.”

“You must take a breath.”

She does not say it and your heart shatters.

“You do not say it because you can’t. You did not ever love me, you loved her. I am the closest thing you can get to her, so you settled for me and you live your life pretending I am her. What is it, exactly, about me that isn’t good enough compared to her? Why not me?”

“I don’t know. You are wonderful.”

“Yet I am not enough.”

“You are.”

“Not to you.”

The utter heartbreak and anguish in your voice rips through Arlecchino’s body. Not many things get to her like this but her best friend lover crying like this, the insecurity and shame radiating off of her body is heartbreaking to her and she feels the guilt rise in her stomach. You have your head buried into the blankets as your body wracks with soft cries. Being stabbed would hurt less than this, you think. Hurt less than being used to live in a fantasy where Clervie didn’t die.

“Should I go for a walk?”

“Yes, go.”

How enthusiastic your response was, she wonders. Though, she knows what she has done even without meaning to do it. She stands up, clothing herself silently before slipping out of the room. You hear her feet padding down the hall, and eventually her leaving the house and her softly muttering to herself as she passes the window. You want to hate her, you want to punch her and throw all of the flowers out of the window. At the same time, you can’t even bring yourself to think of looking in the mirror and seeing the face your girlfriend does not find pretty. Nor can you bring yourself to walk to your living room and find a picture of the face your girlfriend does find pretty. All you can bring yourself to do is dress yourself in the first clothes you can find before letting yourself fall back into bed, sniffling with a look of misery on your face. You wonder when she’s coming back. You wonder if she’s coming back at all. You wonder if you care. You do, but you wish you didn’t. You wish you didn’t love her the way she loves Clervie. Or, rather, you wish she loved you the way she loves Clervie.

[bwabys-scenarios]

I want you to eat well

Vampire!Kurapika x Fem!Reader

!!REBLOGS APPRECIATED!!

warnings: Kurapika eats you out while you’re on your period, rough sex, creampie, breeding

A/N: I posted this in my discord months ago, if you want more content come join!! Here’s the link

taglist: @desiray562 @lovelyxkazuha @ashdownunderscorebeloved

if you would like to be added to the NSFW taglist, comment a ❤️!! make sure you have your AGE in your bio, and that you’re able to be tagged/mentioned!

Kurapika was attacked by humans and fled into the forest. He collapses near a cottage he thinks is abandoned, but it’s yours!

You walk out and just panic!! There’s a bleeding man by the treeline!!

You rush out, and all he can think is how easy it would be to pin you down and drain you dry. He assumes you’re there to finish the job, so prepares to strike… that is until he sees you crying.

“Oh my god, are you okay? I’m going to help you, just stay conscious, okay?”

He blinks. Do you see that he has red eyes? Fangs? That he’s cold to the touch and his blood is almost black? No, you don’t. You’re too busy half carrying, half dragging this man into your house.

He doesn’t think he’s ever been treated so gently before, not even when he was human. You sit him down, pushing back his hair to wash off his face with a rag before bandaging his(slowly healing) wounds. He can’t help but sigh dreamily when you tuck him into your bed, humming as you watch over him.

“What is your name, girl?”

You tilt your head. He’s the same age as you, you think, why is he calling you a girl. “Oh, I’m (Name).”

“(Name)? That’s beautiful.”

You can’t help your cheeks heating up, going about your task of preparing a meal. He’s very handsome, almost alluring.

Over the next few days, your guest doesn’t eat a single bite of food, and you notice he seems to be getting weaker. He still hasn’t given you his name, you’ve started calling him “dear”.

“Hello, dear. Are you feeling hungry today?”

He’s sitting up in bed, a bandage wrapped around his head. He gives you that pretty smile, his fangs glinting in the moonlight. “I’m sorry, (Name), but I cannot eat anything you make me.”

That’s what he says every time. You pout, sitting on the bed next to him. “Come on, there has to be something I can make you! I’m no stranger to cooking!”

He sighs. You’re sweet, awfully kind to a man that had planned to end your life before he got to know you. “No, what I need is something you cannot provide.”

You leave after changing his bandages, cooing softly. “Aww, you’re almost healed! You’ve been such a nice guest, I’ll miss you when you leave…”

The mentioning of him leaving makes him tense. This brief time with you has been some of the best of his life.

The next few days pass by, and you come in that morning with a grimace on your face. “Hello, dear. Sorry I’m late, I’m… unwell.”

“Unwell?”

Your guest seems worried, his hand lifting to cup your cheek. “What is it that ails you, (Name)?”

And before you can answer, a heavenly aroma fills the air.

Blood.

Kurapika feels his fangs dig into his lip as he holds himself back from pouncing on you.

“Well… um…” you seem flustered, and he finds it cute how you fidget with your pajama shirt, glancing up at him. “It’s my time of the month.”

Instead of looking disgusted or embarrassed he seems… intrigued.

He gestures for you to sit with with. “You mean… you’re currently bleeding?”

You’re embarrassed to be talking about this to basically a stranger, but you nod.

He hums, red eyes taking your form in hungrily. Kurapika was a virgin, a man that had lived far away from society since he was turned into a vampire at the age of 23. He hadn’t been around a woman in a long time, and he had to admit, he had been feeling some… urges.

He places a hand on your thigh, eyes half lidded as he stares at you. “You know, (Name), I do find you… quite gorgeous.”

Your face heats up, your legs rubbing against each other. He smirks, knowing women are more sensitive during their menstrual cycle.

“O-oh. That’s sweet of you to say.”

You pat his hand, giving him that pretty smile of yours. You get up to move, but his iron grip on your thigh keeps you still.

“This may sound a bit forward of me, but I have to ask. Have you ever lain with a man before?”

You stare at him slack jawed, face hot. “L-lain… do you mean sex?”

He nods, tilting his head. “Your answer?”

“N-no. I have not.”

He hums, eyes staring in between your legs so intensely you cross them.

“Would you like to?”

He’s having trouble controlling himself, the blanket falling down around him as he crawls towards you, those pretty red eyes staring into yours. It’s hard to look away, especially when he’s inching closer and closer to your lips.

“You’re cute, and such a sweet girl. Would you mind if I… tasted you?”

His cheeks are pink, eyes half lidded as he sniffs your neck, before leaning back and placing a kiss on your lips.

He’s gentle, lips cold against yours as he pins you with ease. You don’t complain, wrapping your arms around him as he shoves his tongue into your mouth.

“At least… at least tell me your name before this goes any further…”

You pout up at him, the man almost cooing with how cute you are.

“It’s Kurapika. I hope you’ll remember it, (Name).”

You nod. “Kurapika… that’s such a pretty name, I’ve never heard one like it before.”

He pulls your shirt over your head, eyes on your bare chest. “It’s a cultural name, one from a clan long forgotten.”

He kneads your breasts, marveling at the softness of them. “Soft, and so warm…”

You hiss slightly as his cold hands slip down your body, until they’re pulling down your pajama pants. “H-hey! Wait! I’m-“

“I know, (Name). You being on your menstrual cycle is the exact reason I want this.”

He pulls off your pants and panties in one go, cooing at the sight in front of him.

“How delicious.”

You squeeze your legs shut, eyes gone wide. “D-delicious? How could this b…”

He glances up at you with those red eyes, resting his chin against your knee. “You know, I find your innocence rather adorable, but I’ll clue you in, angel.”

He extends his fangs, a little confused when instead of reacting with fear, you react with acceptance. “Ahhh, okay, that makes sense.”

He doesn’t question your strange statement, now prying open your legs with ease.

“Now that you know, will you let me feed? This could really help me feel better, (Name).”

He kisses your thigh, his red eyes boring into yours. You pout a little, but cup his cheek. He leans into your touch, surprised at his own actions. “I guess… if it’ll help you feel better…”

You don’t need to say another word, he’s already burying his face between your legs.

At first he devours any blood he can get his tongue on. When he runs out, he realizes he’ll need to really put in the effort to make you secrete more.

He glances up to watch for your reaction when he swirls his tongue around your clit, earning a gasp. Kurapika blinks when your hands bury themselves in his hair, pulling him in the right direction. “K-Kurapika!”

He purrs against you, pumping a finger in and out of your bloody cunt as he sucks on your clit. “Like that, angel?”

He’s almost embarrassed at how hard he’s gotten from hearing your moans and feeling your fingers tug at his hair. “Yes! More please!”

And he gives you more, inserting another finger. “You’re delicious, (Name). If I knew a woman’s menstrual blood tasted this good, I would have done this much sooner…”

You whimper, pouting down at him. “W-well I’m glad it’s with me first…”

“Oh, (Name)…”

He pulls his fingers from your cunt, licking them clean. “I intend for you to be the only woman I ever feed from like this.”

This makes both your pussy and heart thump. “Really? Hahh!”

You don’t have much time to think, his tongue is already inside of you again. Now he’s tongue fucking you as he rubs circles into your clit.

“Those pretty little sounds of yours have my body reacting in such embarrassing ways, (Name)…”

He looks up at you again, blood dripping down his chin. “Would it be alright if I took your virginity, (Name)? I’m a creature of the night, would you lay with me, knowing that?”

You nod, running your fingers through his hair. “Yes… you may be a vampire, b-but I-“

You gasp, feeling his tongue wiggle inside of you. “I know you’re a- hnn… a good man!”

He almost feels his undead heart thump against his chest. You’re making him swoon, and it’s not just your sweet blood he’s craving.

He has you cumming on his tongue, surprised on how much he enjoys the taste of your cum mixed with blood.

He wipes the blood from his chin, crawling on top of you. “My sweet girl, so warm…”

You feel his cock prod against you, your hips bucking against him. “P-put it in please! Need you!”

You’re so needy, tears beading at the corners of your eyes as he coos. “Shhh, shh, you’ll have what you want soon. You’ve been such a good girl, allowing me to feed to my hearts content. I’ll take care of you, alright?”

You nod, the blonde satisfied with your obedience. He prods his cock against your cunt, delighting in the fact that your blood makes it easier for him to slide in.

You gasp when he bottoms out, legs wrapping around his waist. He stays like that for just a moment before pulling all the way out and slamming back in.

He takes you like an animal, pounding into your pussy until you see stars. He tries so hard to be gentle, but his head has gone fuzzy with pleasure.

You don’t seem to mind though, you pull him into a kiss, causing him to come back to reality and melt into your embrace, his hips smacking against yours.

He glances down, dipping a finger to your cunt, lapping up the blood that collected on his finger.

“So so pretty, angel. So pretty when I fuck into you like this…”

His fangs brush against your neck, but he doesn’t bite you. No no no, he won’t do that. Not to his now mate. No, he’ll only drink from your pussy, a taste he would soon become addicted to.

When he cums inside you, he doesn’t pull out for a while. He’s not sure if he’s still able to produce children, but if he can, he wishes to get you pregnant, and soon. Though, he’ll be upset when his favorite snack isn’t available for nine months.

Kurapika pulls you into his arms, keeping you plugged up with his cock. “Tonight, I will take you again and again, so rest for now, my love.”

He plants kisses on your neck, before resting his chin on your head.

He’s so sweet, waking up and cooking you a healthy, iron rich meal. It’s not JUST because he wants you to produce as much blood for him as possible. No, Kurapika has fallen in love, and he’s not letting you go anytime soon.

You’re his now, his mate, his lover, his.

“Kurapika…”

You stumble into the kitchen, body weak and tired from his rough thrusting. He rushes over to settle you down into a chair, cupping your cheek. “What is it my love? Was I too rough? Are you hurt?”

You shake your head. “No, no I’m just really hungry, that smells amazing!”

He sighs. “I’m glad you are alright. I may not be able to eat human food, but cooking is something I am efficient with.”

He sets an omelette in front of you, paired with rice. “It’s a spinach omelette. Enjoy, angel.”

He watches you eat from across the table, absolutely smitten.

He follows you around throughout the day, watching as you do various chores. Now that he’s… fed from you, he has more energy to help, though he can’t go outside due to the sun.

“My love, is it strange that I am excited for night to come? I must admit I am desperate for another taste of you…”

He has you sat in his lap, nose brushing against your neck. He seems to enjoy your scent, constantly shoving his nose into your neck.

“No, it’s okay, I want you to eat well. I care about you.”

His leg bounces, his excitement evident. “Truly? It is not wrong for me to feel this way? To want you in this way?”

He doesn’t seem to have noticed that he’s bouncing you on his leg, causing your face to heat up.

He nuzzles into your neck again placing sweet kisses. “I love you, I apologize for not saying it sooner, but I feared your rejection. You’re a beautiful woman, and I feel I may now need you.”

You can barely hear him, breasts bouncing slightly at the intensity of his movements. “Hhhnn, Kurapika.”

He sniffs the air, tilting his head. “You’re aroused? Why?”

He glances down to see his leg is between your legs, knee pressing against your pussy as he bounces you up and down. “Oh.”

He grins against your neck, the feeling of his fangs brushing against your skin making you mewl. “Oh? Is my angel too needy to wait for tonight?”

Kurapika’s head stays between your legs for the next few hours, being thoroughly fed by his precious mate!

[axelsagewrites]

Tormund*Real Man

Pairing: tormund x f!reader

Kinktober Day twelve: exhibitionism with Tormund – while wildlings talk freely about sex Tormund enjoys watching your blush at even the mention of it making it even more fun to tease you when you come to tend to his wounds

Word count: 2003

Warnings: this is actually technically not smut aka no sex but there is heavy teasing, mentions of sex, heavy flirting, flashing, and physical descriptions.

Masterlist Here

Kinktober List Here

When you escaped Winterfell, finally fleeing from Ramsay’s grip, you headed straight for the wall, straight for Jon. You had been close friends growing up, always lurking in the shadows with him or chasing after Robb. However, you were also trained in medicinal herbs by your mother, a servant who couldn’t just call for a maester when someone grew ill. So, despite his worries Jon agreed you should stay and help tend to the fallen.

What you hadn’t expected was being sent to tend the wilding. You had been locked away during the battle, for safety more than anything so you were shocked to learn when Jon fetched you that he had taken a hostage.

“He’s in pretty bad shape,” Jon warned as you walked the corridor with him down to a storage room that had been converted into a cell of sorts for the wilding. “I don’t think he could hurt you if he wanted but I’ll be every second,” he had assured you as you tentatively stepped into the room.

“Crow,” a hoarse voice came from the corner of the room. Jon held up his torch, revealing the wildling. He was big, that’s for sure, and his hair was almost as bright as the Tully’s. a scraggly beard covered his face and a grimace behind it, “Came to finish the job?”

“Not quite Tormund,” Jon said, stepping closer to the wildling who spat at his feet, “I brought help. She’s a healer, well the closest thing we have to one,”

The man looked passed Jon, his cold blue eyes looking straight at you leaving a strange feeling in your gut. A smirk slowly crept on his face, “She’s a pretty one alright. Guess if I have to die, I might as well go with a pretty face looking at me,”

You were grateful for the poor lighting, hoping it disguised your blush as Jon hushed the man. Jon turned back to you while you tried to ignore the way Tormund was staring at you, “Do you need anything?”

You glanced to the man before your eyes quickly met Jon’s again, “More light,” you said quietly, “I can’t heal him in the dark,”

“Great idea lass,” Tormund pipped up, his voice making you jump when you realised, he was listening, “Can barely even see you in this shit hole,”

His jabs were ignored by Jon who soon lit another couple torches in the room and finally you were able to see him properly. As you walked over you could see blood seeping through his clothes, leaving dark patches, “Um I need to see your wounds,” you said, your voice quiet and plagued with stutters.

Tormund grinned at your words, “Trying to undress me already? Your southern women are forward crow,” he teased Jon who was quick to remind him he was a prisoner here. Tormund rolled his eyes as his hands reached for his top, but you noticed his winces and knew it was no use.

“Here let me,” you said, pulling at the fabric, trying your best not to blush or embarrass yourself as you slowly manoeuvred the fabric over his head.

“Like what you see?” Tormund asked, his eyes glued to yours as you tried desperately to not show that you did.

Instead, you turned your attention to his wounds. The top of his arm was badly wounded, you wondered if an infection was already growing from the sight of him. A few more scratches covered his bodies, and a particularly nasty slice went across his stomach. “I’ll need to clean these,” you told him, pulling out a cloth and treatment for his wounds, “this might sting,”

“Fuck!”

--

You had to check on him at least three times a day to check his bandages and wounds since your suspicion was right and an infection had begun to creep in. at first Jon took you each time but when he was busy he would send another in his place but as he prepared for a greater threat you assured him you would be fine.

After all each time you went it was the same routine. You helped Tormund take off his top layers, changed his bandages, applied new lotions, then more bandages all while he shamelessly flirted with you. at first each sweet word or lewd suggestion was met with blushes and stuttering but it had oddly become a welcome routine for you though you never responded to his flirts.

“Morning Tormund,” you greeted as you unlocked the door and entered his cell.

He was sat on his bed, finally feeling able to do more than lay down, with his shirt already off, “I thought you’d forgotten about me,” he grinned as you moved to sit on the edge of the bed, pulling out your supplies.

while the sight of his bare chest had made you blush originally you had seen it so often the affects had worn off. However, as you were changing the bandage on his arm your eyes glanced down and you felt your skin heat up. At first you had thought he was only bare chested but as you looked down you could clearly see his naked hip, only covered by furs.

You glanced at Tormund for just a moment before your eyes darted back to the wound, trying your best to keep your breathing calm. Out the corner of your eye however you saw the cogs begin to turn in his head, a small smirk stretching onto his lips. “Are you alright little dove?” his voice snapped you back to reality.

You could feel your skin flush as you shot him a quick smile as you assured him nothing was wrong. However, his eyes watched you with fascination the whole time. “That one’s done,” you said, tucking the soiled bandages into a bag you had brought. “One second,” you told him as you went to shuffle back, allowing you to reach his stomach more easily.

“Allow me,” he grinned, shuffling up the bed slightly to give you better access to his midsection but also a new sight. you tried your best not to look but you found yourself catching a quick sight. the furs covered his manhood, but the new position meant it was all you couldn’t see. In fact, it was the most you had ever seen of a man.

As your hands moved to take off his next bandage you mentally cursed yourself for trembling, “Are you sure you’re alright?” Tormund asked, mock concern in his voice as his hand reached up to push the hair out your face making you shiver, “You seem very,” he paused thinking of a word before smirking, “flustered,”

“I’m fine,” you said again, trying to keep your voice steady as you reached for a damp cloth.

“Tell me something little dove,” Tormund said, using his favourite new nickname for you apparently, “Have you ever seen a man before? a real man I mean. Not just some crow boy,”

You paused for a moment, debating whether you should even answer his taunts, “No,” you finally stated as you reached for the ointment to apply.

You dabbed a cloth in it however as you pressed it against his skin you gasped as his hand wrapped around your wrist, “Do you want to?” he asked, a glint behind his eyes that only served to deepen your flush, “You southerners are so sensitive,”

“I’m a northerner,” you tried to say it firmly, but it came out like a child arguing about their bedtime.

Tormund chuckled, letting go of your wrist, “No little dove. Us northerners don’t even bat an eye at a little skin. Any free woman would already be climbing under these sheets. Whereas you,” he said, suddenly leaning forward to whisper in your ear, “you pretend as though you don’t want to see it,” he whispered, his tone taunting.

Your hand reached up to his chest, pushing hard back onto it. You knew he could’ve stopped you if he wanted to but he let himself fall back into the furs with a smirk, “I’m trying to work,” you stated firmly, reaching out to apply his treatment, “and if you don’t wish to have these wounds reinfected I suggest you let me,”

“Why do you care so much if I get better?” he asked, his head cocking to the side, “it’s almost as if you don’t want me to die. Tell me little dove, what is it you want?”

A thousand things came to mind but instead you only said three words, “To go home,”

The room was silent for a moment, Tormund nodded in agreement, “Aye, me too,” he said, and you wondered if for a moment he would be serious but yet again you were proven wrong, “But when I go home, which I will, I will tell all my men of the southern beauty at the wall,” he said, moving to sit up again but your hand shot up to push his chest back. His hand however just clamped over yours making it hard not to blush as he stared into your eyes, “and how I showed you how a free man fucks his woman,”

“I am not your woman,” you said, your voice quiet.

“Aye,” he agreed, leaning back into his furs, “but you could be,” he said, his hand gripping the edge of his furs, “don’t you want to know,” he asked, pulling the sheets down slowly, revealing more of his V line.

However, as your eyes wandered down his body, your mind racing as you tried to stutter out a no, the ointment pot suddenly clattered to the floor, slipping from your hand in your daze. You quickly turned to retrieve the pot, grateful very little had spilled however as you turned back you froze.

Tormund had pulled the sheets further down revealing his manhood to you. a heavy flush covered your face as your eyes stared at the unfamiliar sight. while you knew he was large you foolishly had not expected his manhood to match. It was hard, its tip red and desperate to be touched. Thoughts raced through your mind, but you had no time to act.

You tried to speak but all that came out was vague stutters until a knock at the door snapped your attention back and you quickly jumped off the bed. The door opened suddenly to reveal a very serious looking Jon, “I need you to take a look at Gilly,” he said, his eyes glancing towards Tormund.

You looked back at the wildling and released he must’ve recovered himself in your panic, “She’s not finished with me yet crow,” Tormund said, his voice far gruffer when he spoke to Jon instead of you.

“Aye well she’ll be back later,” Jon said, stalking across the room, “I’m sure you can wrap this around yourself,” he said as he tossed a bandage out your bag at him before he turned back to you with an expected look.

You nodded, quickly gathering your things as Jon moved to wait beside the door, “Goodbye pretty girl,” Tormund whispered as you packed your things, “If you ever want to know what a real man feels like you know where to find me,” he added as you finally were able to walk away.

Jon shot you a questionable look as you rushed out the room, your cheeks flaring up when you heard Tormund calling after you, “Until next time little dove,” he called making Jon slam the door, locking it quickly behind him.

“Is he bothering you?” Jon asked as he led you towards Gilly’s room, “If you feel you need an escort all you need to do is ask,” he said.

Jon looked at you with a mix of concern and confusion written on his face as you considered his offer before shaking your head, “I can handle him,” you said however you wondered if you were right, but you did know one thing. Tormund was officially stuck in your head.

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