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callumsturn · 9 months ago

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Sweet John

Summary: John keeps finding ways to stop by the hospital to see you, until he finally gets what he wants.

Pairing: Major John "Bucky" Egan x female reader Content/Warnings: John Egan being a charming bastard, 18+ smut (minors don't interact), unprotected sex. This starts real innocent, but it's really not. Notes: If you have any requests you’d like me to write please let me know! Comments and reblogs are always appreciated! Thank you!

As you're helping wounded soldiers, rushing through the corridors of the campaign hospital at base, you bump into none other than Major John "Bucky" Egan.

You look up to see his smug smile. "Sorry, sweetheart." His hand gently over your arm as a way to balance you.

If you didn't know better, you'd even believe he might have done it unintentionally.

"It's alright Major." You tried to rush past him, with towels in both your arms to the end of the corridor.

"You shouldn't carry all that yourself." He takes half of the load from your arms. "Let me help. It's the least I could do."

He carries on up the corridor, following close behind you. You turn your head to him for a few seconds. You know you should be resisting. But he's very, very persuasive. Even when his uniform is covered with blood.

"You have blood on your uniform." You simply state.

"Oh, yeah." He shrugs, not bothered to wipe it off. "You know how it is." he tells you "Can't even breathe at battle without getting some blood splashed on you." He looks at you. "You've got some on you as well."

You look down at your own white uniform. "It has seen better days, yes." You continue to walk to the end of the corridor, entering one of the patient rooms.

John follows after you and looks around as soon as you're inside. "Oh, you're taking these to..." he trails off a bit as he sees who's laying in that bed. One of the men from his squad.

"Hi Sergeant. How are we feeling?" You spoke to the man resting on the bed.

The Sergeant looks up at you. "I've been better." As soon as he sees the Major behind you he tries to sit up, still a bit shaky. "Major." he says, his voice hoarse.

"I'm gonna clean that open wound and switch it up, is that alright?" you asked the man in the bed.

"Thank you, miss." he adds as you begin to gather your tools.

You can feel the Major's gaze on the back of your head as he watches from the doorway.

"It's gonna hurt a little. Take this." You hand the patient a bottle of alcohol to drink.

He takes it, grunting a little from the pain of just moving. He takes a sip and sets the bottle down. As you pour liquid over the wound to clean it, the Sergeant's leg moves in pain. He grunts loudly and moves in his bed. You feel the Major aproach the bed and hold the Sergeant with no trouble. He tries to move again but the Major's grip is firm.

"It's alright. Just hold still now." Major Egan tries to calm the man. You see the compassion and concern on his face. His hand is still on the Sergeant's lower body, ready to steady him again if necessary.

You say nothing, continuing to clean the wound and prepare the needle to stitch. The Major remains close. He watches you work, and his focus is almost entirely on exactly that. The Sergeant squirms in the bed again, but the Major remains in place.

"Easy." the Major tried to calm him down.

"Almost done, Sergeant." you mention as you finish stitching him up.

"Th- thank you." The Sergeant glances toward the Major. "She's real good, I'm telim' ya, sir."

You chuckle as you begin bandaging his wound. "Now... you shouldn't get up. Just try to rest and no missions for a few days. This needs to heal properly."

"Roger that, nurse." the Sergeant replies with a smile. "Will do." he finishes. "Could I get some more of that bottle, though? You know how it is."

You smile as you hand him the bottle for the second time. He takes another sip, as you hear Major Egan chuckle, keeping his eyes on the man and then on you as you put the remainder of the supplies away in a near medical cart, back turned to both men.

"She's pretty, ain't she, sir?" the Sergeant asks his Major who's sitting beside him still, in a lower voice.

As you barely hear the Sergeants comment, you tried to pay no attention to it, not curious to hear the Major's response.

You hear the Major chuckle again. "She is. I'm sure she's even got herself a fella already. Some lucky bastard."

"Probably some high rank fella, too." the Sergeant continues jokingly.

"Not a high enough rank for that, no." You barely hear Major John say.

As you finish storing all utensils, you approach both men again. "You rest up Sergeant. I'll tend to other soldiers now."

The man thanks you, as he rests his head back on the pillow and closes his eyes. The Major still has his gaze on you as you walk past him.

You continue to go about your shift, working on other patients in other beds. You do your best to ignore the Major's gaze when he is watching you from afar.

"Am I under some kind of evaluation, Major?" You asked unfazed, not looking at him, but still tending to a patient.

Somewhat caught off guard by the question, the Major's calm demeanour slips a bit. "Uh... no. I was-" he clears his throat "Just... checking up on... on your patient care."

"On my patient care?" You chuckled. "How's that going then?"

"It's going very well." he replies a little too quickly.

"Well I'm glad." You paused. "Thank you for the help back there."

"Any time." he replies. You see that he wants to say something else, but stops himself. "You've got everything under control in here then?"

"Sure thing."

"Great." He clears his throat again. "I'm..." He's having trouble finding the right words. "I'll let you get back to work then."

"Thank you, Major."

"Yeah. Sure, no problem." He finally leaves the room. You don't see him again for a while, but notice his eyes on you several times over the rest of the week or so.

A few weeks passed and the hospital became less busy. Patients were recovering and the missions were being successful over all. You notice the change. It's more peaceful, which is just what both you and the soldiers needed.

But there is one thing that has changed your routine. Major John "Bucky" Egan has been coming by to see you more often. And each time he does, he stays a little longer and talks a little more. He always makes sure to pay careful attention to everything you say, and always makes an effort to keep the conversation going. You can feel the other nurses and doctors giving you disguised looks, wondering if there's something going on with the two of you.

The Major even shows up when you're not working, and seems to hang around to see when you start your shift or finish for the day. He's always just hanging back, not being too obvious about it. You found it quite charming actually, the effort he would go into just to talk to you for a little while. It was definitely flattering. He's a handsome man, and he's got a certain charm and confidence about him that you can't help but like. Although you're still unsure how to feel about all of the attention, and that uncertainty definitely shows on your face as he approaches you yet again, and starts up another conversation.

"Major Egan." You say after he approaches you.

"Nurse." he replies with a polite smile. He's carrying a coffee mug and offerts it to you. "I figured you might be tired after your shift."

You gladly accepted it. "That's incredibly thoughtful of you."

"I try." he shrugs his shoulders with a smile. You can see his gaze still on you as you take the mug. For a little while he doesn't say a thing, just watching you as you take a small sip from the cup.

Suddenly, he clears his throat a little and speaks again. "I was wondering... there's a cafe outside the base... I though it'd be nice to go there and get something to eat." he says. He's still looking you straight in the eyes while saying it, his body relaxed and his hand resting casually on the mug. "Would you like to join me?" he adds after a moment.

"Right now?" you ask calmly.

He nods after a moment. "If you'd like." he responds. "We could both do with getting some real food. Maybe something more comforting than camp rations." He gives you a small smile, still watching you carefully as he waits for your answer.

You smiled at him for a second. "I'd like that."

His smile grows a little wider. "Great." He starts to back away. "I'll... I'll head out there now." he says "I'll be waiting just outside. The cafe's not far."

"I'll be right there." you smile.

He gives you one more little smile before making his way outside and waiting just out front of the camp, leaning agaisnt the wall and looking out the gate.

You head to the locker room where you find a colleague. You head inside to change out of your work clothes.

"Hey there." she grins "how have things been with you?"

"Good." you smile.

"Major's been going around again today, hasn't he?", she asks, glancing over at you.

"Um... yeah, he has." you continue to change into your clothes.

"Yeah, I figured as much. He coming around more often now? Spending more time talking to you?"

You chuckle, embarrassed. "I guess, yes."

"Well, I figured he had a thing for you" she laughs. "It was only a matter of time before he started getting a little flirtatious. He's not very good at hiding it."

"I think he's just being nice." you said as you buttoned your shirt.

"Sweetie, he's more than just nice. Major Egan has a reputation aroud here, you know. He doesn't go around being sweet to just anyone."

"Well, I don't know. I don't want everyone to go around and talk about this. The other nurses are real nosy!"

"Oh cm'on, don't worry. They'll just tease you a bit if they can tell that something's going on. And besides, nothing exciting happens around the hospital, so they cling to anything." she paused "But you're lucky. The Major's a looker, and I'm sure that you wouldn't mind his attentions, huh?" She gives you a playful nudge as she asks.

You chuckle as you looked at her. "He really is a looker isn't he?"

"Hell yeah he is." she laughs "A real man after my own heart. And the more things continue like this between you guys, the more certain I am that you might be the lady that gets to keep him to herself."

"Well, I don't know about that."

"Oh, come on. Just look at him. Just waiting right outside for you."

"Alright now. Enough of this." you said as you put your coat on. "I'm heading out."

"I'll see you back here later." she chuckles as you head out.

You find Major Egan just where he said he'd be. As you pass him and make your way to the gates outside, he starts walking with you, keeping his hands in his pockets.

"That's your work done for the day?" he asks casually.

"I have to get back in a few hours.... night shift."

"Ah... sure. Night shift. Busy workload tonight?"

"I don't think so."

He keeps his hands in his pockets the entire time, but he seems comfortable, confident, and content. "I bet it'll get busy in there." he adds, pointing to the cafe. "They have some of the best coffee and food around here."

"Have you been there lately?" you ask.

"It's been a little while now." he replies. "I had some time off last night and was going to go there, but I ended up making a stop by the hospital." he shrugs a little. "Had to see if you were looking after these soldiers properly, of course." he adds jokingly, raising an eyebrow at you.

"Yeah, you've been a real caring Major these last few weeks."

"Well, I was just making sure you were up to the task of caring for our troops." he continues.

"Oh, your soldiers never complained."

He smiles at your comment. "Glad to hear it." He looks at you again, a small grin on his face. "Or maybe it's just that they have something nice to look at while they're recovering?"

"Alright now Major Egan."

"Oh come on, why don't you just call me John, hm?"

You looked at him for a couple of seconds. "If you're sure."

He gives you a little nod, still smiling. "Absolutely."

You approach the cafe and he holds the door open for you as you walk inside.

The cafe is busy as John said it'd be. Off duty soldiers fill the place with their drinks, raised voices and the smell of cigars. Most of them are playing a game of cards at the tables. Several are chatting and laughing with each other, making it a very lively environment. Major Egan steps inside and closes the door behind him.

"It is busy, isn't it?" he asks as he guides you to an empty table. He holds your seat out for you before sitting down across from you. "You don't mind it being so busy, do you?"

"Not at all."

He smiles, his hands still in his pockets. A waiter comes to your table and takes your order. John asks you what you want and then orders for you. You just smile politely at the waiter before he heads off.

"I'm glad you agreed to come with me this afternoon." he says after a moment in silence. You notice him leaning forward on the table as the conversation continues. He seems quite calm, but you can tell how focused he is on you.

At one point, one of the soldiers at another table glances over at the two of you, and then nudged the others at the table. There's a murmur of conservation and a few more glances as the others take note of the Major and the nurse sitting together again.

The Major doesn't seem to notice though. It remains a lighthearted conversation, but there's an undercurrent of something a little bit more going on underneath the surface.

Before either of you realize, both of you have been talking to each other for half an hour. The Major shows no signs of losing interest in the conversation.

After a while, a couple first year Sergeants approach the table curiously, excitedly presenting themselves to John.

"Major Egan, sir!" the first says confidently.

"Major." the second follows. They both glance at you a tad nervously.

The Major looks up at them and smiles, still sitting at the table casually. "At ease, gentlemen" he says, raising his hands off the table, but still relaxed.

"Sir, a few of the men were wondering if they could get an extended leave, due to the successful mission earlier today."

The Major stares at the first Sergeant for a second, and his eyes dart over to you. He's still smiling a little, but there's a serious side to him that comes through as he talks with them.

"I understand that you were planning on extending their leave to allow them to rest?" he replies to both men.

"Yes, sir." the first replies "if that's alright with you, sir?"

"It's alright, Sergeant." the Major nods again. "There'll will be no issue on my part in regards to that. How many days are you looking at?" he asks, looking between the two Sergeants.

"Around a week" one of them replied boldly "if that's fine with you sir?"

"A week, hm?" he stares at them for a moment. "A week should be sufficient for them to recharge, especially after a mission like this morning. Make it happen."

The Sergeants both nod their heads. "Yes, sir." They both give you a resrpectful salute before turning back around and walking to the larger table.

"Major Egan..." you say mockingly. He was so different when he talked to you.

He glances over at you with a little half grin. "Yeah?" He laid back in his chair as he waits for you to continue.

"And just when I was about to call you John." You say.

He chuckles softly at that. "Go ahead and call me John. If anyone around here is going to call me that, it should be you." he took a sip from his beer.

That gave you a chill down your spine, out of nervousness.

He sees that he has gotten some sort of reacting out of you, but that smile still remains on his face. "Go ahead, call me John."

"Alright, stop that." you chuckle.

"I just want you to call me by my first name. Is that too much to ask?"

You look at him in the eyes for a second, before smiling. "In here?"

"Here" he pauses "or anywhere else if you'd like." He lays back and continues to smile. That damn smile.

As you take in his comment, music starts to blast and all the soldiers rise from their seats and grab the women to dance. The cafe instantly becomes an athmosphere of fun and liveliness.

The Major glances over at the dance floor. "Would you like to join me?"

You nod your head shyly, and take John's hands as he pulls you into the dance floor. The music is a classic swing tune, and the soldiers all seem to know the moves perfectly, moving with rhythm and flow in a very playful mood.

Major Egan seems to be familiar with the dance, and as he moves with you his confidence and skill is undeniable. He leads you easily, gently pulling you around and twirl you in his arms, and all the while, he stays completely focused on keeping you steady, stable.

"You're a good dancer." he tells you, still smiling playfully as he does. He spins you around in his arms and then back around again, pulling you close enough so that his face is inches from yours. He's still maintaining a comfortable distance between you two, but it's evident that he wants to be so much closer.

The music begins to pick up more, and as it does, his moves become just a little bit more intimate and playful. His arms around your waist. It's clear that he's more than just enjoying the dance.

Moving his hands down to your hips as he holds you, not giving you quite as much space as before. He tilts his head and gets closer to your face, maintaining that same playful grin.

"Careful, John." you say over the music, teasing him.

He chuckles at the teasing, but he doesn’t pull away, nor does he stop dancing with you.

His movements get a little bit more playful now, bringing you in even closer.

"John..." you begin.

“Yes?” He stares at you with that same grin on his face, but his eyes have become more intense now, as if wanting to know where this is going.

"Kiss me." you ask.

His eyes remain on you as he stares quietly for a second, but then he finally leans in to meet your offer. There is nothing playful or light-hearted about this exchange. This is a serious and bold moment for the both of you. Major Egan goes completely for it, pressing his lips against yours. And as he does, his hands moves to your hips and pulls you even closer to him. The kiss was slow but eager, like weeks of tension have been building up. Every movement and gesture felt intentional. His hands on your hips feel more intense and firm now. You pulled back and heard the music echo.

The moment of silence was deafening.

The music was no longer all that you could think about. He stares back at you, clearly still wanting more, but he holds back from following through in that very moment.

"Let's go." you say looking up at him.

He doesn't answer, but simply nods his head. He takes your hand in his own, and together, the two of you exit the dance floor and leave the cafe. As soon as you hit the street night air, John grabs your hand and pulls you close again, his lips finding his way to yours. Your bodies are pressed against one another, and the intimacy of the moment is undeniable. His lips find yours again, this time, more eagerly. And he lingers for a second or two, savoring the kiss. This time, it feels like he’s taking it further, as his hands start moving down to your waist more playfully.

“You wanna take me to bed?” You simply say.

He looks back at you, a bit amused at the question, but also somewhat surprised that you had the boldness to suggest that.

He stares for a second, his lips partially parted. “Yeah. I do.”

His answers are blunt and straightforward. But there’s also a confidence and assertiveness about him that makes it very evident that he is completely and totally up for that idea.

You smiled. He smiles back at you, before leaning forward to take your hand again. But this time, he doesn't just hold your hand. He interlocks his fingers with yours, his hand more possessive now as he glances down at your interwined fingers.

He leads you back into the base, guiding you towards his quarters.

The silence between you two is punctuated with little whispers and small talk here and there, but overall, the atmosphere is very much still intimate and playful between the two of you.

You noticed your environment. You've never been in this part of the base before, as it was only reserved for the Majors. It’s clear that this is a very private side of the base, for these higher ranking officers to be able to relax in the company of their women.

As you walk down the corridor, you hear the song My Funny Valentine by Chet Baker echoeing from a hall near by. Major Egan guides you through the hallway, the two of you still following hand in hand, until you both finally arrive at his room. You enter and before you could assimilate the space around you, John grabs your waist from behind, spins you around and you watch him close the door behind him so effortelessly, just before he kisses you gently, but passionately.

Everything around you has become a blur now, but you feel his hand on your back, leading you closer to his bed.

You start to walk backwards as he guided you. You put your arms around his neck, looking for support as he kisses you eagerly now. You jump, clinging into his body, as he grabs the back of your legs with his hands, easily supporting your weight. You moan quietly as he starts to feel your skin under your skirt as he holds you with both his hands.

John exhales soundly. "God..." he trailed off "You even sound beautiful."

His lips attack yours once again, filled with desire. His comment gave you chills all over your body. You felt him sit on the bed, you now straddling his lap. Being this close to him left you intoxicated, even speechless. You had nothing to say to him. Your attempts seemed to only come as careless whispers or moans as he explored your body with his hands.

"John..." you finally spoke.

You felt him smile into the kiss. "Yes?"

You took a second to answer, processing his touch. "Fuck me." You finally said.

He couldn't hide his smile. "I wanted to do this right." he paused as you looked at him. "I wanted to make love to you first."

The smirk plastered on his face made you melt. His eyes glistening with adoration for you.

You retributed the smile. "Sweet John..." you began tracing his features with your fingers. "Please do that."

You saw his smile grow slightly wider just before he closed the gap between both your lips.

He held you closer, his grip on you more firm, but never once hurting you.

“I imagined this moment a lot.” He confessed.

You began to take his uniform off. His shoulders so broad and his arms like two comforters around your torso. He did the same with your clothes but taking his sweet time to take in every little detail about you. The curve of your neck, the shape of your breasts and the freckles on your skin. Most of all he noticed the way your expression changed slightly when you became blushed with arousal.

His pants were bothering you, they were in the way. Your hand flew to his belt, trying to unbuckled it with no success. You saw him chuckle, surprisingly out of nervousness, as he helped you take it out. You always thought the Major John Egan would be swift in these manners, he had experience after all. It was the only thing nurses talked about, how much luck he had with women, inside or outside base. Was it so hard to believe that he could be actually nervous because you were the one unbuttoning his pants and trying to discard them? That was hard to grasp.

John grabbed the low of your back with one arm, supporting the other on the bed to lay you on top of it. He stood sat on the bed even after kicking his uniform pants, watching as you lay naked waiting for him to join you.

His expression was a mix of desire and adoration.

"What is it?" You asked laughing.

He shook his head slightly. "Nothing." he opened his mouth for a second before speaking. "I just think you're the most beautiful thing I've seen walk this earth."

You visibly blushed. How could you not? "You're just saying that because-" he interrumpted you immediately.

"Clothed or not." He said plainly, guessing the rest of your phrase. He looked at your face for a couple of seconds, and you did the same with difficulty. He was so handsome, his hair dischevelled falling perfectly on his forehead.

Not bearing it being away from him one more second, you grabbed his hand and pulled him to lay on top of you, opening your legs, allowing for him to fit in the empty space.

He immediately kissed you, your bodies now glued to each other. You could feel his hard member press against your core. You bent your kness, allowing him access. Your way of letting him know what you wanted.

He positioned himself at your entrance, ever so carefully. He looked at your expression as you gasped slightly, feeling him. He then kissed you gently, but eagerly, as he pushed himself inside you, slowly. Your mouth hang open as you threw your head slightly back on the pillow. He looked down at you, and he swore he could come undone right then and there, watching you in that blissful state.

You felt his lips on your neck, beginning in the low of your jaw until the base of your neck. You exhaled when you felt his touch and he could feel the vibrations of your voice on his lips.

His thrusts were purposely slow so you could adjust to his size. Soon enough he started to go deeper as you dig your nails in his upper back muscles.

"Faster." You pleaded, your voice only coming out as a low whimper.

He could hear it alright. John picked up his pace and you moaned louder as you felt every inch of him molding you.

"You feel so good." you heard him say between grunts into your lips.

You brought your lips to his, kissing him deeply. You broke it to speak finally. "John..." you called out his name. "I'm- I'm close."

"I know sweetheart, I know you are." his voice intoxicated you with desire, you could barely control yourself. "I can feel you closing on me." he continued thrusting in and out at that perfect pace. "You can let go... I wanna see that perfect face when you cum."

That was enough for you to explode. You soon came undone, your voice a higher pitch when you moaned his name a couple of times. You felt his warm release spill inside you. His face inches away from yours, mouths open, exhaling as you both reached your high. The moment that followed seemed like completely silent, only your breaths almost in perfect sync.

He smiled after noticing tears of pleasure in the corner of both your eyes, kissing each one of them away from your face. You both moaned when he removed himself inside you, both still very much overstimulated.

He laid next to you, immediately pushing you into his chest, arms wrapped around you. There were no words needed. You guys didn't have to talk about what happened. It was clear.

A few minutes were passed in silence. You looked at the clock on his wall, which marked almost twelve.

"Shit, I have to go. The night shift." you grabbed a bed sheet instinctively to cover yourself as you sat up, looking for your clothes scattered on his bedroom's floor.

"No." his voice lingered, pulling you back on the bed again. "You're staying here tonight."

You smiled as you looked at his sleepy expression. "I don't think that's up for you to decide. The doctors do our schedules, I have to show up to work."

His voice became deeper with tiredness. "I'm Major Egan. I can make a few calls." He suggested, his voice now more playful. "If you'd like to stay here with me tonight." his demeanour expectant.

You looked at him for a couple of seconds, giving thought to his offer. A smile escaped your lips, as you lay in the bed again, slightly embarrassed.

"They can get by without you one night. I can't." he admitted while wrapping his arms around your torso, setting the covers on top of you both.

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yvvxs · 2 months ago

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Trick or Treat!

‎‎ ‎‎ ‎↪ ft. argenti. arlan. aventurine. blade. boothill. caelus. dan heng & imbibitor lunae. dr ratio. gallagher. gepard. jing yuan. jiaoqiu. luka. luocha. moze. sampo. welt.

You and Argenti would definitely portray Beauty and the Beast. Going around in your costumes from door to door surprising the residents on the area with how beautiful your boyfriend is. Is he the Beast? Or is he the Beauty? Both. Both works.

Arlan would be going around in a silly onesie that the lead researcher had bought for him. Asta had made him go on break just to enjoy getting some sweet treats from any of the researchers, of course, he had to invite you as well. He denied receiving any of the candy, giving any and all of it to you. What was he doing with his pumpkin then? Well, holding Peppy, of course!

Going around with your vampire-dressed boyfriend, Aventurine would easily charm people. He made a bet with you on who'd be getting more candy. You both went together, so you were getting around the same amount of candy. But, somehow you seemed to have a lot more than he did.. Had he been giving you some of his own stash?

Blade didn't wear a costume, or at least, on his own accord. You had to force him, with the help of the other Stellaron Hunters, to give him an outfit to wear. A mummy costume was the only one that would have already fit him with the bandages that were already wrapped around him, just needed to add a few more, and he fit the look entirely! Though, he refuses any and all candy that he was being given.

Almost unrecognizable, Boothill would be wearing a mummy costume. Or what seemed to be the bits of it. Any of the bandages slipped around the metal of his body, falling off easily. Most of which just sat on his hat. Well, it didn't matter, he was having fun alongside you anyways.

Caelus would be wearing a racoon onesie that March had bought for him. She said it fit him, and so he wore it. It had a little pouch on the front, so he can hold any and all candy that he had stole– rightfully gotten.

Dan Heng would have to be convinced by you just to join in the Halloween festivities. He also wore a onesie that March had bought. Fittingly enough, it was a dragon one. Trick or Treating as Imbibitor Lunae was different, you'd decorate the space in between his horns with little spiderwebs. Insisting that it looked 'spooky'. He was sure you were just doing it for the sake of doing it. Oh well, he couldn't get angry at you.

Dr. Ratio had gone as a mad scientist, specifically, Victor Frankenstein, and you, as his monster. He wouldn't say he was fond of these activities, but he couldn't deny that doing them was somewhat enjoyable, especially when you were there with him. After all, even the doctor would have to take some breaks to have some fun. Though, he did make sure you lessened your sugar intake, he wouldn't want you getting a cavity tonight.

Going around as a werewolf, Gallagher enjoyed the trick-or-treating. Though, he most enjoyed giving candy to those who came to the Dreamjolt Hostelry. Seeing whatever costumes that people could come up with was quite fun. He'd sometimes give them a drink tailor-made for them for free as they continued on with their festive activities.

Having been convinced by Lady Bronya, Gepard had gone trick-or-treating alongside you. He was wearing a cheetah costume, bought by his sisters from some IPC members that were selling them. But he couldn't deny that seeing people enjoy themselves on this one day was quite rewarding. Especially knowing that these people were safe.

Jing Yuan was wearing a lion costume, matching with Yanqing, to the teenager's displeasure. The three of you going trick-or-treating was a sight for any on the Luofu watching. They'd give all of you some extra candy, which the General happily snacked on. What a cheeky bastard.

Sitting alongside you on the Yaoqing's streets, Jiaoqiu handed out candy to those who came. Though, he did join the trick-or-treating himself with your help, wearing a werewolf costume you and Feixiao bought. The two of you went along, describing the cute costumes that you saw for him. Despite his disability, he still enjoyed the activity, especially when you were there by his side.

Luka went around Belobog in his robot costume that Hook had made for him. He looked silly, but he enjoyed it nonetheless. It was the first time he was able to go trick-or-treating, and he was happy that he could do it with you.

Luocha was wearing a vampire costume that you had insisted he wear. It matched the coffin, and that solidified the look. He wasn't entirely fond of going around and getting sweets, but he'd gladly do it if you so wished.

Convinced by you, General Feixiao and Jiaoqiu, Moze finally decided to along with you in trick-or-treating. He wore a silly vampire costume that you and Feixiao had gotten. It matched him, you insisted. It'd just be for a day, he supposed, and it wasn't too bad at the least.

You and Sampo had worn matching costumes. A police officer and a burglar, you'd pretend to chase him, but he'd evade quickly as usual. Such a shame the people you two were visiting didn't know he was secretly stealing more candy than he should have gotten. Well, it was for you, so perhaps he could be let off the hook a tiny bit.

Welt wore a robot-themed onesie that March had bought for him, going around the planets and seeing the creativity in their costumes truly excited his inner child. He loved watching them, and you both knew that. He seemed like the person not to enjoy such an activity, but in reality, he did.

Masterlist || Do not repost nor feed to AI. Reblogs & Comments are much appreciated.

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xo-codbby · 3 months ago

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when the two hour journey back from a failed mission had all five of you on edge, especially with you as the driver 🤭

price usually was the one to drive but he'd been caught in a bomb that had been too close, catching the shrapnel in his thigh and arm preventing him from using it too much. luckily he'd been fine, gaz and ghost safely removed the debris and bandaged him up. but now it meant that you were the next designated driver, not trusting gaz/soap especially simon to make it to the barracks safely. and poor price was all too stressed, brows furrowed as he rubbed the back his neck slightly in dire need of his bed and a drink

so it left him in the back seat with soap and gaz

soap who's absolutely restless and fuming and gaz who's brooding, eyes ticking when soap keeps squirming, "jesus just stay fuckin still for one fuckin sECOND!" "what tha FUCK did you just say??"

so now you have a brawl taking place and your hands are clenched so tightly around the wheel you're contemplating dumping them all on the side of the road and driving off

"enough! can you both just stop" you snap back lugging the empty gum container at them, it hitting the back of soap's head and bouncing off of gaz's forehead. cue another few grumbles as they finally separate, muttering curses and scowls

price decides to sit in the middle of them, to ease their tension and play mediator,"no more fighting lads. you're grown men. act like it" "i am! he's started it" "fuckin' boot licker"

unfortunately price's beautiful broad frame blocks the mirror and you need to see behind the car. so it leaves you back with the decision you hated

"gaz d'you mind sitting back in the middle?" "i do mind" "but-" "i. do. mind."

ego has absolutely crumbled 6 feet under from your comment, already on top of a failed mission it doesn't seem to be kyle's day at all. price sighs heavily, one minor inconvenience away from calling laswell and transferring to a new team as he grabs the back of gaz's top and pulls him back in the middle. soap is busy snickering away in his seat, thumping the back of his comrade's shoulder

"aye that's not so bad. plenty o'birds go fer tha small men" "yeah, you'd know from experience"

another fight breaks out and this time price steps in, snapping at them both. watching both seargents fall into their respectful seats after getting an earful from the captain with a matching glare

and ghost? oh, he's sitting all cute in the passenger seat like the little princess he is <3<3<3

that is, until he's suddenly become an expert driving instructor. telling you not to go too fast/watching out for the cars, "hey hey, watch out for the stop sign-" "coming from the same guy who almost crashed us in the heli several times??" "still got your arse from point a to b so what's the issue?"

and then soap has the bright idea to start pissing off the lieutenant, leaning forwards behind his seat as he starts sticking his fingers into ghost's ears

learns his lesson very promptly when said finger is grabbed and bent at an awkward angle threatening to break

it's silent for a moment as you drive, taking out a soft breath finally. it's then very quickly broken before ghost complains, moving in his seat annoyed

"you got any snacks? m'starvin" doesn't wait for an answer, already rifling through the glove compartment. pulls out a snickers bar brown eyes glinting, turning behind his seat to eat it and show off to the three in the back "oi you share some with me", "greedy bastard, give some over", "where did you get that??"

you have to stop at the convenience store to appease the rest of them

but at least the driver has full control of the aux and you play your own songs, a beautiful symphony of groans and complaints around you. but hey, it's nothing the music can't drown out

and finally it's quiet after an hour and half, turning around in your seat when you're in traffic. price is asleep, arms crossed over his chest, head leaning slightly with his bucket hat falling half off. kyle's head is on price's good thigh breathing softly as he remains relatively still eyes closed peacefully. soap is pressed into his back snoring softly, a very active sleeper you've learnt throughout your time being with the 141. and simon's head rests delicately on centre console, breathing gently as his balaclava is pushed up around his nose fast asleep.

with all four men finally knocked out you thank the universe, as you continue to drive a little gentle this time all the way back to base

not before taking a sneaky pic for memories, of course ♡

#cod 141 #simon ghost riley #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x y/n #john price #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #simon riley #johnny soap mactavish #john soap mctavish x reader #john price x reader #kyle gaz x reader #gaz x reader #141 x reader #task force 141

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ozzgin · 1 year ago

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Yandere! Yokai Harem x Reader (II)

The two yokai men reach an agreement and you begin your journey together, searching for clues regarding the mysterious case of your incomplete reincarnation. You learn about the third of the Legendary Yokai, a gargantuan monster worshipped in times of war.

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Character Guide]

The next swish of the mysterious man's sword is parred by Kiritsubo, who managed to make his way to you in time.

"Wait! It's not entirely him, Murasaki, I can explain!" He shouts frantically.

"So you let him live. This is why you've never been good for anything." The dark haired man snarls in a low voice, disgust seeping through his sharp teeth.

It becomes obvious rather quickly that he has the advantage in terms of battle experience. You can only stare in fear, stuffing your wound with your jacket sleeve. What else can you do? You're bleeding profusely and if a demon of Kiritsubo's stature cannot compete, you'd be even less helpful.

"Listen to him, man, I genuinely don't know anything about your master!" You beg as your limbs are flooded with a prickling sensation. They're slowly going numb. "Please. I just want to go home."

Damn it. You have no idea whether the bleeding will stop anytime soon. Is this how you die? You won't even get a proper burial. Even worse, your family will live on thinking you vanished without a trace, unaware you've been stabbed to death by a crazy jackass in feudal Japan. You wish you could make them stop.

You squeeze your eyes tightly, trying to think of a way to escape, when you hear both men groan in pain. You look ahead to see them on the ground, clinging tightly to their chests, faces twisted in a grimace. Huh? They couldn't have killed each other in the few seconds they were out of your view. What is going on?

After a few agonizing moments, the yokai seem to calm down. Kiritsubo is gasping for air, clumsily pulling himself back up. Murasaki remains on the grass, forcing himself to appear collected despite the cold sweat coating his forehead.

"That's...what...I...meant..." The silver haired demon groans between hitched breaths. "Whew. You see it now, don't you? She doesn't emanate enough power to pull this off. It's coming from somewhere else."

Murasaki clicks his tongue in visible annoyance.

"So then, what do you suggest?"

"I don't know. But something is stopping you from killing her and there's a chance she's connected to the source."

"What are you guys whispering about?" You inquire, crawling closer towards the horned men. "And why did you suddenly collapse? You scared the hell out of me!"

"You didn't feel anything?" Kiritsubo questions you with raised eyebrows.

"Besides the, I don't know, stab wound? No, thankfully." You respond sarcastically.

Without a word, Murasaki stands up and approaches you. He crouches down to your level and nonchalantly slaps your hand away from your shoulder.

"Hey!"

"Have you ever tended to a wound in your life? You're shit at it." He uses his sword to cut off your sleeve and folds it over your gash with calculated movements. You hiss at the pain and glare at him. "Bite down on a stick if you can't handle it. Better than being dead."

The white haired yokai flashes you an awkward but reassuring smile.

"He might be an ass about it, but he knows what he's doing."

"Why are you helping me, anyways?" you point out, somewhat wary. "You literally tried to kill me a moment ago."

"I changed my mind. You'll help us find the damned bastard or whatever it is he's using to control us."

"What, the priest? Hell no, I'm going back to my world. I've had enough action for the rest of my life."

Murasaki finishes bandaging you and gives you one final press, almost as if messing with you, and you wince. He stands up and slides his sword back in its sheath.

"If you focus a little, you will find there was no question or request in my words. I'm not negotiating with a weakling like you."

Kiritsubo squats down before you and claps his hand together, pleadingly.

"Please think about it, (Y/N). I know you don't owe us anything, but there's a chance we could finally break the seal and be free. If you'd consider helping us. You can walk away, but that won't change the fact you're part of Abe no Nakamaro. He will want his powers back at some point, and we can protect you when the time comes."

You cross your arms and frown thoughtfully, pondering the options. He did save you twice already. So in a way, you're indebted to him. And if he's right, and you will have to deal with more crazy encounters in the future, it's probably better to have two powerful demons by your side.

"Alright, alright. I'll help you." You exclaim with a confident nod.

Kiritsubo grins, satisfied, and Murasaki huffs and looks away. There's a prolonged silence as you wait for them to continue with further instructions, but the men remain quiet.

"So...what now?" you eventually speak up.

"Oh. I thought you knew where to go next." the silver haired man retorts, confused.

"Idiot. She's not a compass." Murasaki scolds him. "Can you stand?" He adds, turning to you. "There's a shrine a few kilometers away that belonged to him. If we leave now, we should make it before sunset. Maybe we can find something there."

You try to prop yourself up, but Kiritsubo promptly scoops you with his sinewy arm and throws you on his back again.

"I'll carry you. Just hold on."

A faint blush dusts your cheeks, but you don't have the energy to argue it. You clutch onto his broad shoulders and nod.

The walk is uneventful and both yokai seem to be distracted. The gentle swaying is causing you to be more comfortable than you'd like to admit and your eyelids become heavy with exhaustion. Before you know it, your head drops against the toned back and you fall asleep.

By the time you open your eyes again, you've already reached your destination. You yawn and stretch, lazily scanning the surroundings. A heavy shadow looms over you and you glance up. Still groggy from your nap, you scream before you can fully process the object towering above.

It's a statue. A colossal statue of some sort of monster. A demon with thick, wide bull horns sprawling out imposingly, almost eclipsing the ridiculously muscular build. The creature has four arms, flexed in a threatening manner, with one hand gripping a heavy spear and the other a skull. The crimson light of the sunset creeps through the windows and reflects against the chiseled clay, giving the statue a devilish glow. You feel insignificant.

"That's Suma."

"W-what?" your head tilts to Kiritsubo.

"He's one of us. You might meet him soon, if he's been alerted of your presence. This is a shrine built for him, to bring good fortune during times of war."

You cannot help but gawk at the structure.

"Is it, uh, life sized?"

"Heh, almost. He's a little taller than this." He chuckles, slightly nostalgic.

You swallow dryly. Just a moment ago you thought Kiritsubo was unusually big.

"I'd rather not meet him, to be honest." You shiver at the idea.

"Don't worry about it. Now that Murasaki has joined us, you're pretty much safe from anything. He's the strongest of us." The yokai remarks with a sad smile.

"Really?"

You peek at the dark haired man, currently flipping through dusty manuscripts, and briefly observe him. Compared to Kiritsubo, he's quite slender, with noble, elegant features. And he'd be able to defeat this enormous beast? Then again, the glimpse you've caught of his swordsmanship is enough of a convincing argument.

What a bizarre gathering of creatures beyond your understanding.

You remember to look away when Murasaki grunts and throws the remaining scroll of paper. His lips form a thin line as he rakes his mind for the next step.

"Nothing here. But I'm rather certain he has to be at one of his hideouts. We'll check each and one of them if we have to."

"Wait, are you saying he's still alive? We saw his body before Sekiya and Sakaki took him for the embalming and burial."

Murasaki scoffs at his partner's gullible nature.

"And you believed it? That parasite spent his entire life searching for ways to prolong his reign. He's probably hiding somewhere, waiting for his renewed part of the soul to return to him."

He rests against the wall and points a clawed finger at you.

"This must've been his solution. Releasing his remaining energy until it found a proper vessel to grow stronger, and patiently awaiting the body swap. Then we go back to being whipped dogs fulfilling his whims."

It's your turn to be outraged, twisting your mouth downwards.

"No way, I'll pound that old man into sand!" You bark and throw a jab against the air, emphasizing your threat. "As if I'd just hand myself over."

"I'm not sure if it'll be that easy, (Y/N)..." Kiritsubo glances at you with a hurt expression. "He's a terrifying, vengeful bastard."

"Not if we find him first and take him out." Murasaki counters with a glint of determination in his eyes. "Humans need to rest, don't they? We'll spend the night here and tomorrow we head out. Kiritsubo, find me a map so we can keep track of the locations. I'll bring the wood for a fire."

And with this, he marches out. Kiritsubo scurries to his duty and you quietly follow his movements. He seems to be used to executing Murasaki's orders. You hadn't considered their group dynamic much, but it appears to have some rather complex hierarchies involved. You almost wish you could witness all of them together, wondering how they'd interact with each other.

Who knows? If you stick around, it could happen eventually. Murasaki was surprisingly easy to convince, so the other yokai might as well agree to keep you alive until you find their source of misfortune. Heh. Almost like a harem, or something. You snicker to yourself.

Which reminds you...

The fire has been lit and Murasaki mumbles something about guarding the perimeter. This time you hurry outside after him. You reach out to the dark haired man and pull on his kimono sleeve.

He turns to you, mildly irked.

"What?"

"Teach me how to use a sword." You state with the assertiveness of an order.

"Why? I can assure you I'm more than enough. I've never been defeated." He stares at you, incredulous.

"I don't want to rely on you all the time. You're already this close to being unbearable", you explain, pinching your fingers together. "Besides, if I'm going to be stuck among beasts, I'd very much prefer being the one doing the cool stuff."

And with that, you pretend to slice through an invisible enemy, whistling the sound of your sword cutting through the air. You furrow your eyebrows, imitating the engrossed expression of a seasoned samurai in the middle of a battleground. Murasaki quickly lifts a hand to his mouth - did he chuckle just now? - and responds, the faintest amusement in his voice:

"As you wish. But I'm warning you now, I won't hold back."

"I've been injured twice in less than 24 hours, I'm sturdy enough." You answer, patting your chest proudly.

Next time one of the Legendary Yokai comes for you, you won't be as vulnerable. That's for sure.

#female reader #yandere #yandere x you #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #monster x reader #yandere yokai #yokai x reader #yandere demon #yandere monster #yandere scenarios #yandere imagines #male yandere x reader #yandere original character #yandere oc #original character #original work #yokai oc

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mistiell · 1 year ago

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If you’re doing requests and it’s not too much trouble what about Astarion and getting patched up and taken care of by mc

Here you go babes <33 (Also, if he's a little out of character, I apoligize, I really did try my best lol) WC: 1k

---

“Ow! Gods, could you at least try to be gentle?” Astarion hisses at the sting of the salve you’ve concocted, startling you into jerking the cloth you’re using away.

You huff and drop your hands into your lap, brows furrowed in very clear annoyance, “I am trying. If you’d stop squirming, it wouldn’t hurt so much.”

“Well, if it didn’t hurt so much, I wouldn’t be squirming, would I?” He quips. You roll your eyes.

Taking his wrist ever so gently, you turn it so you can see the gash on his forearm, fingers deft and kind even despite his whining. He’s being difficult; unreasonable. You’d be justified in being cruel with him.

You’re careful not to press so hard as you swipe the cloth over the jagged edge of his wound, blood seeping into the fabric and staining the off-white linen a dark crimson. Mouth quirked down, your face is drawn tight with a frustration he’s never seen on you before.

He hates it.

The fabric catches with a jolt of pain and he flinches more than he would normally, startling you away again.

You tut at him, stern, “Astarion.”

Sighing, he returns his arm to you wordlessly and glances away with a small, “Sorry.”

“You should have been more careful.” You chastise as you press the cloth against his wound; firm, but not harsh. Never harsh.

He scoffs, rolls his eyes, “So you're saying this is my fault.”

He wasn’t being serious, but it seems you take it as such. Your nose scrunches, and for a split second, you look properly upset with him. He’s expecting you to snap at him, maybe shout and finally leave him to tend to his wounds alone as he usually would.

You don’t. Instead, you take a breath and sigh, looking rather disappointed.

“You know that’s not what I meant. Contrary to what you may believe, I do actually care about you and your wellbeing.” Your voice is void of any sort of humour as you look back at his arm. Swapping the soiled cloth for a smaller, cleaner one, you fold it in half and press it to his arm, not sparing him a glance as you instruct him, “Hold this.”

He does as you’ve asked, and a stifling silence engulfs his tent. As you rifle through some healing supplies, he tries to come up with a way to get you talking again.

“Why-,” His voice doesn’t come out right and he clears his throat to fix it. It comes out wrong anyway, “Why are you helping me? This wouldn’t have been the first time I’ve dressed a wound on my own, you know.”

“That doesn’t mean you should have to.” You reply as you begin securing the cloth to his arm with bandages, “No one deserves to suffer alone.”

The sentiment makes his stomach twist. “No one?” He huffs a wry puff of laughter, “Not even someone like Cazador?”

Your face contorts in abhorrence, “I meant good people don’t deserve to suffer alone. That bastard deserves every bit of suffering he has coming to him.”

He barely even registers the second part of what you’ve said, too busy reeling from the first.

Good people don’t deserve to suffer alone.

Good people.

“You... think I’m good?” He asks far too softly.

Finally looking back up at him, you look utterly confused as you nod, “Of course I do.”

He opens his mouth only to find he’s seemingly lost his voice. His gaze flits over just about every inch of your face, searching for any sign that you’re lying; a glance away, a twitch of your mouth. Anything.

He doesn’t find one. His heart sinks and sings simultaneously and suddenly, he can barely breathe.

“Why?” He murmurs. Part of him thinks he’s not equipped to cope with your answer.

There’s a moment where you just... look at him. He’d say staring, but he doesn’t think that’s quite what this is. What you’re doing would be better described as seeing him; all of him. His heart, his soul. Everything.

“Good people can do bad things and still be good, Astarion. And being good doesn’t always mean being a saint.” Your voice is kind; tender. Maybe a little joking towards the end. He guesses you’ve seen the apprehension on his face when your hands slide down his arm to cradle his own. Dipping to catch his gaze, your own is suddenly serious; unwavering, “What happened to you, the things you did. None of that was your fault. You told me what Cazador did to you when you disobeyed him. I’d be just as terrible to deem you a monster for going along with it knowing what would have happened to you if you didn’t.”

Your words strike him like a hard blow to the chest. Perhaps he’s not all that concerned with being a good person, but he’s never truly wanted to be evil, either.

Eyes stinging, he lets out a shaky breath through his nose as he cups the nape of your neck to guide your forehead to his lips. He lingers there for a moment before he wraps his arms around you and pulls you in tight, mumbling against your hairline, “Thank you.”

Snaking your arms around his waist, you squeeze him just as fiercely, “Of course, my love.”

The laugh that escapes him comes out too watery for his liking, but he finds he doesn’t mind quite as much when its only you around to hear, “‘My love’? Isn’t that my line?”

You snort, and he feels you smile against his collar, “Perhaps.” “You do know that reusing material that isn’t yours is in poor taste, don’t you, darling?”

“Hush.” You pull back smiling, shaking your head as you ask in faux exasperation, “Now, will you please let me finish bandaging this?”

He follows your gaze to his arm and huffs dramatically, “I suppose.” “Oh, you suppose, do you?” You sass as you take hold of his wrist again, careful not to wrap the bandages too tight, “Do you also suppose you’ll sit still for me this time?”

“I do.” He grins.

And he does.

#astarion #astarion bg3 #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #astarion x you #astarion x mc #hurt/comfort

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hitlikehammers · 7 days ago

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oh golden boy (don't act like you were kind)

part i : you were mine but—

for @kultiras at the ❄️ Winter @steddieexchange 🖤🩵

Arguably the sharpest knife in his chest about this whole fucking shitshow?

Eddie thought they were doing good.

Like: so fucking good.

Eddie thought they were on the cusp of…that they were building something.

He’s such an idiot. Such a…

A heartsick fucking idiot.

But if he’s gracious—which he’s not, least of all to himself—when he puts all the pieces together, lines the evidence up and analyzes it, thinks of it in terms of a narrative that he can understand and recognize the flaws in, where he’d rewrite the ending or tweak the rising action so everything slides into place realistically, cause and effect in balance just right: Eddie can see that the way this has all shaken out is fucked up. So, so fucked up.

Because there honestly hadn’t been any signs that they weren’t laying the foundations of something long-term, something lasting; that they weren’t in this deep and rooted, strong and committed and serious in a real, tangible way, and, just…

Forever. Eddie was…he was playing for keeps, here. He thought, he just, he thought—

Fuck.

He just…really believed he wasn’t alone in it all.

Again: idiot.

It’d started so fucking predictably, really, because if there’s one thing that Eddie clocked about Steve Harrington from the get-go of actually getting to know him versus operating on the popular-gorgeous-jock framework he’d distilled the guy down to in his head before 1986: the one consistent thing he’d figured from what he’d heard and what he’d seen put together was that: Steve Harrington?

Bastard’s protective to a fucking fault.

So when he blinked back to the land of the living with Steve goddamn Harrington at his bedside? Standing guard, looking a little haggard—like he cared, at least enough to worry—but still fucking devastatingly pretty, good god-

When he woke up to that, Eddie was surprised and also: not at all surprised.

The way he lit up when he saw Eddie was conscious, like world was less before that moment and something right slid back into place? Eddie…Eddie felt like his body was pretty wholly broken but that fucking cracked something down his middle, decimated parts of him in new ways that hadn’t been already devastated on another plane, were sitting ripe for wholesale ruin.

He’d let Steve blame the breathiness that’d overcome him on coming back from the brink of death, because Steve didn’t need to know the sensations, the emotions, that were running riot through Eddie’s veins.

But then it hadn’t stopped.

Steve standing guard at his side became a constant, like Eddie couldn’t quite comprehend save that it felt like his body was knitting itself around the fact of this more-than-good dude and Eddie wasn’t entirely sure what to do with that, save kind of just…poke curiously at the new shape of everything he was for it, and once he worked through the fear of the unfamiliar in it?

To kinda…savor it. Roll around in it and relish.

Probably it was gonna be short lived anyway. Probably it was gonna go away when Eddie finally got out of here. Only made sense to soak it up while it lasted.

And it was one of those early days, where Eddie was soaking it up and before anything possible beyond the bubble of middle-space they were existing in inside Eddie’s hospital room was even hinted at. Steve had gone to check on Max while Eddie grappled a bit to look down at himself a little better under the handkerchief that the hospital deemed sufficient as clothing, and he braced for the worst because it felt like the worst and what he did remember at all from the scene of the inter-dimensional mauling definitely aligned with being ‘the worst’: but it was honestly mostly bandages and pain.

Eddie didn’t…on second thought he didn’t know if he was ready to see what was underneath just yet, so he was actually kinda grateful that his hubris about it all didn’t immediately have a chance to floor him, especially when he was alone because he’d thought it’d be easier to stomach if it was just him—but the prospect, the bullet dodged, lodged in his throat and proved him kinda instantly wrong for the sharp cut of bile rising in him, and the violent jump of his pulse right behind it.

His hand had gravitated to his chest, though, like he could keep his heart from cracking his ribs that way, and he noticed that…even the light pressure ached, so he looked down a little more carefully, didn’t think the little fuckers had concentrated their attacks on the center of his chest so he tucked his chin and tried to see what was causing the sting—maybe just like, general area tenderness after playing buffet table to fucking…flying hellspace rodents but—

No. No: even from this weird-ass uncomfortable angle, Eddie could see the outline, coukd make out the dark stain of a bruise.

In the shape of a hand.

And listen, Eddie wasn’t foolish. He knew that everyone busted ass to get him topside and to a hospital. And that probably involved…stuff he didn’t want to really dwell on too long in terms of the nitty-gritty of his own mortality. He was also very much aware that Steve had played a crucial role, even if the man himself didn’t stand up and declare it. The kids didn’t have any sense of a fucking filter, so.

Eddie knew.

But Eddie then started tracing the splay of fingers on his sternum, his heartbeat so fucking heavy under even just the brush of his nails as he followed the outline of the purpling over, and over, and over, imagined what it would take to make that kind of an impression on his skin because Eddie was fucking pale, yeah, he marked quick—but not that dark.

Not that deep.

“Shit.”

Eddie’d startled, snapped his attention to the doorway where Steve had reappeared, looking a little breathless as he took Eddie in, came quick to his side and leaned to look closer at the monitor next to him and oh: Eddie hadn’t realized that the beeping was so loud, so fast. Hadn’t realized his heartbeat had ratcheted up quite so high.

Not that he was surprised.

“Shit, are you okay,” Steve barely breathed, eyes so goddamn big about it as his hands had kinda hovered, as he’d tried to figure out what to do, how to help, because that was what he was always doing; that’s who he was to his core, and Eddie…

“Oh god, let me call the nu—”

“Don’t.”

Eddie’d half-moaned it, god: scratchy but desperate as he reached for Steve’s hand and he…

He suspected he knew exactly how big that hand was; what shape it’d make to a fucking T. But he needed to see

For sure.

“What are you,” Steve’s brow had furrowed in that way Eddie was becoming increasingly aware he wanted to kiss smooth, and he started to ask it as Eddie grabbed to uncurl his grip from the bar at the side of the bed but Steve gave up fighting quick, focused on stopping Eddie from moving at all instead, from stretching the way he was against the precarious threads holding him together as he reached for the neck of his gown again, still loose enough from where he’d pulled the back up, left his ass out against the sheets to bare his breastbone, the mess of the tattoos on his chest more grisly after everything than any horrors he’d gotten inked before but—

This was a different kind of horrifying thing. Not least—maybe most—because it was entirely possible that it was also the most beautiful, sacred thing to ever touch Eddie’s skin. To ever beat through Eddie’s fucking veins.

“You,” Eddie let go of the last breath he could wrestle out before his lungs seized up too tight, because then he was watching it happen, watching Steve’s broad palm as it hovered over the imprint, shivering when Steve’s warmth made contact: eclipsing the bruise near-perfect, just like Eddie knew deep down it fucking would.

His heart took the hint and started shivering under Steve’s hand immediately, like it had something to prove.

“Ed,” Steve’s voice was wispy, choked a little; eyes too bright and Eddie feels like there must be so many kinds of dying, because he’d felt one keenly under that angry red lightning; this was a wholly other thing.

But felt just as keenly life-or-death.

“You,” Eddie whispered, the words, the truth, the feeling of it all too fragile, too precious to disturb, and he wondered if his heart knew Steve had pushed the bruises down around it to save it, if that’s why it was so unbridled and unabashed in hammering against that touch, that touch—

“I think I heard you.”

And Steve? Big eyes framed with those feather lashes, stretched wide and all made of shine and earnest fucking feeling?

“You didn’t…want to lose me?” Eddie’s voice had been so small, so so small because he did think he’d heard that, and the wisps of recollection, of a frantic but resolute voice demanding of him: what he was able to collect and try to tie into a whole matched up when he paired it all with Steve in his head, but what if he was wrong?

What if it was all just fever dreams and wishful thinking on his deathbed, what if Steve had no investment in him beyond keeping the Party safe in its entirety, no exceptions; what if Eddie was fucking wrong and showed too much of his hand with this, with Steve’s palm pressed to his thrashing heart and—

Then Steve was brining his free hand to Eddie’s cheek, fucking…cradling it like it fucking meant something, like he could matter and—

“I couldn’t lose you.”

Oh.

“You,” and so many possible ways to end that thought had swam through Eddie’s head—you barely know me, you can’t possibly care if I live or die, I cannot matter one fucking bit in your universe, so why would it matter but Steve’s hand was warm under his, and Steve didn’t pull away, only leaned in, only stayed close enough that Eddie could feel his breath on his skin and Steve could chart the way Eddie’s heart took to pummelling his already-taxed ribs but it didn’t matter, it couldn’t matter because Steve held there, so careful of the pain but nothing short of steady, devoted, a soul-sworn guard of that heart under his hand like it did matter, like Eddie did…

Like Steve ever could—

“Stevie,” Eddie would probably have flushed if the situation had been anything but what it was. If his heart wasn’t racing into Steve’s touch at the chest and just under the jaw where Steve’s thumb pressed almost proprietary, almost like a shield but also like a welcome, like the idea of Eddie’s heart beating into him wasn’t a dealbreaker, and fuck, fuck—

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” Steve breathed out against him, prickling dangerous across his skin and Eddie’s heart leapt a little, fuck; more than a little and Steve felt it, front-row-center, couldn’t not feel it but he just leaned closer still, and Eddie was front-row himself to the catch in Steve’s inhale, undeniable and unapologetic as he murmured low, turning into Eddie’s cheek a little and Eddie maybe resented how it forced him to pull away,until his lips brushed the tip of Eddie’s jawbone and drew a whole ass shudder down his goddamn spine.

“Just know,” Steve gasped there, fucking…panted and hell if it didn’t catch in Eddie’s blood like pure bliss; “just know why.”

And fuck, but Eddie could only press in to the warmth of Steve’s lips where they moved for the words alone, let alone what words; what Eddie thought maybe they meant—

“Me too,” Eddie rasped a little, because fuck him, man; this was something…something else, swelling up in his chest so strong and Steve had to be able to feel it where he still held against him, palm to his galloping pulse at the source, feeling the life he coaxed back into the world.

“Does it have to make sense just yet?” Eddie asked, knew he sounded too hopeful, too desperate, more than he’d earned, than was safe but his heart kept knocking against that hand, so fucking insistent and who was he to deny it, to try and wrestle in into being less when he couldn’t even hide it, when it was evident to the man it was leaping at; for.

“I don’t think so,” Steve mouthed more than spoke where his lips dragged wet across the stubble on Eddie’s cheek.

“Then,” Eddie tipped his head, tried to catch Steve’s eyes, aimed to reason, to convince but the moment he moved, Steve dipped his chin just so to take Eddie’s lips, to kiss so hard, so complete with what felt like it couldn’t even be reasoned as less than all of him, because how could less than all feel like this—

Fucking impossible.

And Eddie couldn’t shy away—as Steve kissed him breathless, left him gasping; Eddie couldn’t shy away from the sense that he was being killed and revived all over again, endless and unbreaking, and it was perfection.

Jesus fuck.

And the kicker was that…weeks passed. A whole month, close to another. And if anything changed it was all for the better, for the more and Eddie wasn’t entirely sure what to do with it, if he was entirely honest. He…the bruise healed, y’know? That brand above his heart but—

He didn’t need it anymore. That was the thing. He didn’t need to see.

He was very fucking aware. Every minute of every day. He was…so aware. It could kill him better than those bats, it was so big and so much, and so quick, but with all that, probably because of all that: Eddie’d never felt anything even remotely like what it meant to shake off sleep and have Steve Harrington kiss you to wakefulness, to hold you for the nightmares as much as the news of small victories on the road to recovery: never wavering.

Never leaving.

When Eddie got the go-ahead to continue his rehab outpatient-style, his original conviction that all of this ended at the latest upon discharge was immediately challenged, because Steve had become so much more than he’d started as, but Eddie still worried. Made himself sick over it.

Felt like an indefensible monster as Steve rubbed his back, brought him soup, tended him like Eddie didn’t cause his own suffering, and all for the terror of losing the very man who was there, without question.

Then he signed himself out, and Steve drove him home.

Save that Eddie recognized where they were headed and…he only knew one person in Loch Nora.

“Your uncle’s still in the motel by the plant,” Steve had explained what Eddie already knew but hadn’t put together when Eddie raised an eyebrow in askance, wholly unsure how to process any of this, any of this; unsure how to hope in the face of what he was seeing, held against what he was wishing.

“Government’s being fucking assholes about setting you up with someplace appropriate,” and something in Steve’s tone had made plain that he was not just very clear on what constituted ‘appropriate’, he was probably actively involved somehow in holding the people in question rightly accountable for appropriate, and nothing less.

And Eddie…he did say he didn’t need a mark you could see on his heart, didn’t he.

“You need the room while you get better,” Steve murmured as he killed the engine, and lifted Eddie’s hand to his lips, pressed his mouth on the knuckles, nuzzling a little, eyes closed and Eddie…Eddie didn’t know what to do.

The only saving grace was that he didn’t have a monitor to rat his ass out when his heart started trying to escape orbit—fuck just his ribs, how pedestrian—this time.

They sat in a living room that looked like it was once absolutely pristine and still was, mostly, but up close Eddie could see little snags on the sofa, could feel the texture of the fabric different under his fingers for scrubbing out a stain. He suspected four infamously unmannered teenagers were the culprits. The remaining stiffness of the cushions was good for the way his body was still working through being gnawed apart, but he was gone far enough to kind of immediately hope he’d see how they wore with love and use and maybe something more once they got there, once Eddie’s body cooperated again, because he…Steve brought him home.

And maybe they didn’t have to stop when Eddie left the hospital. Maybe he didn’t have to lose.

He’d only made it shortly past the best fucking grilled cheese he’d maybe ever tasted, and he didn’t think it was only because it was his first meal without an aftertaste of sterile in too fucking long—but he only lasted a little more than an hour before Steve’d helped him to a guest room on the first floor that’d obviously been reworked for him, from the way he could reach the bed from just inside the door, to the fucking posters that he knew for a fact Steve wouldn’t have had on hand, and Eddie’d giggled a little wetly at the Ozzy one, because he figured the man steadying him at his side would never be anything but intertwined with the Prince of Darkness in his mind, now—but Steve, who’d more than proven he was so far beyond any kind of king, won hands down. By a landslide.

And who could have seen that coming?

“Careful,” Steve chided him gently as he guided Eddie slowly down to the mattress and made to tuck him in, and the word was so warm, so warm but Eddie had to…

He had to reach. Again. He needed Steve, he…needed.

The handprint on top of his heart didn’t need to be a thing he could see, but he needed Steve to…know some level of what he was feeling, of how much was inside him already, and growing, the momentum building and he didn’t want to feed it, didn’t want to let it run if he wasn’t going to have someone to catch it, to run with him but he also didn’t think there was any chance to stop it, now, he didn’t think he could trim it back or tame it from consuming him and he wasn’t sure he’d even want to if he actually had the power because it was the best feeling he’d ever known, even if it was terrifying, even if it could hurt him more than anything he’d ever known and—

“I don’t want to be alone,” was what spilled from his lips with Steve’s hand above his heartbeat as it pumped so goddamn hard it couldn’t be denied, it couldn’t be misconstrued, and he didn’t want to sleep alone, didn’t want to lose what he’d rebuilt himself around all these weeks, he—

“Good,” and Steve leaned down, cradled Eddie’s face and tipped him up to kiss him full, hard, one hand still on his chest because that was the mark, the promise, the fight for all that this was and all it could be like a fucking vow and Eddie melted for it on sight, on contact.

“Because I’m not leaving,” and Steve brushed the tip of his nose back and forth against Eddie’s, his smile like honey in his tone as he pecked Eddie on the lips one more time before stretching his hand to follow him across the bed, to crawl to the other side and slide in next to Eddie, to carefully arrange him against Steve’s body, to wrap around him with so much care, to touch nothing too tender and everything safe to hold as Steve tucked his face against Eddie’s neck and kissed behind his ear as he breathed:

“Never gonna leave you all alone again.”

And Eddie believed him.

Eddie believed him.

And when, weeks later when Eddie was hurting less and moving more, perched in the corner of the couch that was starting to give a little under persistent weight, starting to feel like it was meant to be used and lend comfort; as Eddie was poking at campaign notes for the gremlins, pen caught between his teeth, he only paused when he felt the gravity of a familiar gaze settle on him—not immediately, because he liked just existing in it, feeling its heft, but after enough moments to satisfy him he looked up, met those eyes and felt them in his goddamn soul as he asked:

“What?”

And Steve had just kept on staring, the bare hint of a quirk at the corners of his lips spreading to the full sunrise of his smile.

“You fit, here,” and he’d said it so simply, so…much like a truth, a fact of the universe—Eddie Munson fits, belongs in this place, this space, this home, this life—and then the smile dimmed ever so slightly, cloud cover across the shine as Steve shifted a little, crossed his arms loose but still as a barrier over his chest: “if you want to, I mean—”

And Eddie sat up straighter, and he reached both his hands out to Steve because:

“I want to,” it was all he wanted, really; it wasso far beyond his wildest dreams but it was real, Eddie could see and touch it, taste it, feel it through his blood when it pumped, tracking through his whole body, filling up his heart overfull and magnificent and he as just…

“Sweetheart,” he took Steve’s hands and tugged him down to sit next to Eddie, settled him so close; “I’ve never wanted anything as much as I want that.”

He leaned back, wholly prone and never once letting go of Steve’s hands, never once doing anything but keeping them laced together and anchored, locked tight and Steve matched him, followed him as Eddie drew him to his healed-enough chest to settle right at the center, to hear Eddie’s heartbeat for the declaration it was, it already was in its entirety:

“You fit here.”

And he did. They both did. Their worlds had shifted, grew around the shapes they made together and after not-long-at-all, they fit so fucking well that it was bespoke to their cells, they’d never fit anyone else. It was quick and it was heady and it was fucking right.

For months

And then it all went to shit.

Because Steve decided what should have been expected, honestly—that Eddie wasn’t worth the hassle, that he wasn’t right for Steve, that Steve’s staggeringly-expansive capacity for love was wasted to hell on this low-life dipshit who couldn’t even graduate on his third try at high school, who maybe didn’t have a murder charge anymore in the legal system but would never wash it clean from the court of public opinion, who was…trouble. Always trouble.

Not fucking worth it.

It’s just…Eddie never thought Steve would stop wanting him. He maybe went in reticent at first, but Steve had loved so hard out the gate that as soon as he knew he was allowed, and welcome? Eddie didn’t hesitate to meet that love beat for beat.

He just never imagined his love would ever be unwelcome; that that's how his heart would break.

What breaks in the moment, though—the heartbreak is constant, and unfortunately proving to be kinda fucking unending, really—but what breaks now is…possibly the handle on the front door for the way someone’s banging and jiggling it back and forth like the first time it didn’t give against the lock was just a fluke.

He frowns, considers waiting out whoever’s enough of a dick to knock like that but apparently not so witch-hunty to throw a brick through the window—which: Eddie will take progress, he guesses—but when a concerning creak sounds from near the hinges, Eddie thinks of Wayne, and how his uncle doesn’t deserve a broken front door, so.

Heartbroken or not, Eddie has to drag himself to deal with…this.

Then he’s throwing the door open and…this is—

“We need to talk.”

This should have been expected. There’s really only one little asshole who’d assault his door with that much…determination.

“Henderson—” Eddie huffs, because he knows he needs to set a date for them all to get together, he left the campaign they were in kinda dangling on a thread when he didn’t hold the gatherings at St—

Well, when their regularly scheduled venue became too much for Eddie’s heart to handle.

Which: okay, fine, he gets it but like, he can’t care as much as he maybe should when he feels like this, and the kids need to fucking take a chill pill and if they can’t understand, then at least they can just shut the fuck up for at a couple more weeks while Eddie licks his wounds and sees if they decide to finally scab over enough that he doesn’t keep with busting them back open every time he breathes—

“About Steve.”

Eddie’s heart shudders just to hear the name. He’s avoided hearing it for weeks, now; it hurts too much.

He hears it enough in his own head, in his dreams, in his nightmares when he see the worst, in the cadence of his fucking pulse because his heart doesn’t know how not to be Steve’s, kinda feels like it’s not interested in learning, will never be anything other than what it is now, forever, and—

“We need to talk about what you did to Steve.”

Wait.

Wait, what he did to—

What?

❄️

>>> part ii

for @kultiras🖤

✨permanent tag list: OPEN (lmk if you want to be added/removed): @pearynice @hbyrde36 @slashify @finntheehumaneater @wxrmland @dreamwatch @perseus-notjackson @estrellami-1 @bookworm0690 @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @nerdyglassescheeseychick @swimmingbirdrunningrock @goodolefashionedloverboi @sanctumdemunson @theheadlessphilosopher @sadisticaltarts @bumblebeecuttlefishes @shrimply-a-menace @wheneverfeasible @1-tehe-1 @themoonagainstmers @dreamercec @ravenfrog @live-laugh-love-dietrich @stealthysteveharrington @tinyplanet95 @theohohmoment @samsoble @tinyloonyteacups @askitwithflours @awkwardgravity1 @pretend-theres-a-name-here @dragoon-ze-great

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miffysrambles · 1 year ago

Note

Hello! I love your headcannons! What are your headcannons for when S/O is gravely injured? Like, the S/O is fighting against some demons along with MK, Wukong and Macaque and they get very seriously injured, to the point of passing out. What would their reactions be?

Wukong, Macaque, and MK With a Gravely Injured S/O

(This one took a bit, sorry about that!)

Wukong:

Oh, he is livid.

He shouts at MK to take you somewhere safe, as far away from his location as the boy could go.

“Get them out of here kid, get them help! I’ll handle this!”

He needs to beat some sense into this bastard, right here and right now.

Uses almost every single one of his powers to strike the demon, soon enough scaring them off into never hurting you or even going near you again.

Grabs them by the collar as they fall to the ground, bearing his fangs as speaks through his teeth.

“If I see you even stand close to that mortal ever again, I will not hesitate to kill you next time…”

Eventually travels back to you and MK on his cloud, finding the both of you in your apartment as the noodle boy patches you up.

He sends MK home, ensuring you’ll be ok.

“Don’t worry bud, they’ll be fine. Get some rest, ya earned it.”

He sits down next to you on the couch as he lays your head in his lap.

His fingers intertwine with your hair, his other hand caressing your face as you rest from the intensity of your wounds.

He stays like this for quite some time, maybe even hours as he does not dare to move a muscle.

His heart skips a beat as you shift awake, smiling up at him as you regain consciousness.

He smiles back at you, it might have been the fact you were still a bit tired but you swear you could see small tears in his eyes.

“Peaches, oh thank Gods! It’s ok! You’re ok, you’re safe…”

He wants nothing more than to scoop you up in his arms and cover your gorgeous face in kisses but does not want to move you when you’re in pain.

Soon enough when you’re ready to move he does just that, laying you on his chest as he presses soft kisses all over your face.

He holds you close as if you were about to disappear any second, you’re guessing he really was scared today -which is super rare.-

“I love you, oh I love you so much. I’m so glad you’re ok.”

Macaque:

His first instinct is to get you the hell out of there.

As soon as his six ears hear your breath falter, he pulls you through into the shadows and gets you both out of the fight.

“Damnit, damnit, damnit! You're going to be okay sweet cheeks, don’t close your eyes on me. Keep those gorgeous eyes open.”

He falls into his living room with you in his arms, frantically kissing your forehead as he sets you down on the couch.

He’s scrambling through his dojo to find stuff to patch up your wounds, he doesn’t have much because, well, he’s immortal.

After patching you up, –which is sloppily done by his shaking fingers–, he leaves you alone to rest.

“Gods damnit!” He punches a hole through the wall of the dojo, taking his rage out on the crumbling drywall.

He needs to direct his anger towards something else before the entire building falls.

And luckily for him, he has just the target.

Oh, the demon didn’t win like they thought they did, not even close.

As soon as Macaque sees they let their guard down, he emerges from the shadows to summon his smoke monster.

It grabs the demon within its giant grasp as it forces them into the gravel below, crushing them with its sheer force.

“So! Do you really think you got away with hurting that mortal? Big mistake on your part…”

After beating the demon to a pulp, he travels back to you through the shadows.

You open your eyes to see him land on the living room floor, his ears perking up from the sound of your breath hitching as he rushes to your side.

You smile up at him through your pain, your bandages wrapped a little too tight.

“Macaque? I love you and appreciate it so much but you tied these a little too tight…”

He blinks in surprise as he reapplies the white strips on your wounds, smiling as he kisses your nose.

“Heh, sorry about that starshine. Glad you’re ok…”

MK:

You don’t think you’ve ever seen your bright bubbly boyfriend so angry.

In fact, he is beyond furious.

To the point, he turns into his monkey form and beats the demon into a pulp.

Pigsy and Sandy were helping you stand as you stared at the sight in front of you, MK glowing a bright gold color as the two flew through the sky so fast you couldn’t keep your eyes up with them.

At one point, the demon tried to teleport away but MK was two steps ahead as he reached his arm out and grabbed them by the collar.

“Hey! Who– Said– I– Was– Done with you yet!”

He was throwing the demon around the mountains in between his words, finally, the demon was defeated as Mk ran up to you.

“(Name)! Oh, please be ok!” He wraps his arms around you, earning a gasp of pain from you.

“Careful kid, they’re hurt bad…” Pigsy put his hands up to warn your worried boyfriend.

“Right, right. Come on, let’s get them home.”

MK scooped you up in his arms as he carried you to your apartment, using the key that you gave him to set you down on the couch.

“Stay here, I’ll get you some bandages.”

He kissed your forehead as he left the room, coming back with white gauze and a waterproof marker.

You raised your eyebrow at the marker, earning a small smile from him as he slightly laughed.

“I was gonna draw on your bandages, add a little happy touch to the sadness!”

You laughed softly, nodding at the idea.

“Sounds fun, let's do it.”

He beamed as he applied the white strips, drawing various doodles on your bandages such as a doodle of the two of you kissing, one of the Monkey King (of course), and little hearts and stars everywhere.

You smiled as he held up his phone camera to you so you could see, giving him a kiss on the cheek, “Thank you babes, I look so colorful!’

His cheeks flushed red as he kissed your cheeks several times in return, “Of course, I think you look goood! I’m so glad you’re feeling better sweetie”

#ask #lmk #lego monkie kid #lmk x reader #lego monkie kid x reader #lmk sun wukong #lmk macaque #lmk mk #sun wukong x reader #macaque x reader #mk x reader #lmk sun wukong x reader #lmk macaque x reader #lmk mk x reader #lego monkie kid sun wukong x reader #lego monkie kid macaque x reader #lego monkie kid mk x reader

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miyukisu · 2 months ago

Text

Need Your Lips On Mine .ᐟ

❤︎ | You'd think he'd be more enthusiastic to get his hands on you because of the whole 'secret relationship' thing, but maybe it's time to turn the tables (2.3k wc) ╰ feat. osamu dazai (bsd) x afab! reader

kinktober entry no. 9 | kinktober masterlist

tags - reader works at the cafe, dom/sub dynamics, dazai is mean and annoying, edging, implied mutual masturbation, semi-public smex, toys, light bdsm (he's bound by the hands lol), blowjob, no p in v, p*rn with plot, reader is feisty, profanity

minors do not interact

"Take your hand off... I swear... they're gonna catch us sooner or later."

Your words fell on deaf ears as one bandaged hand kept itself under your skirt and on your ass. "If you keep quiet, then maybe no one will get caught. Hm?"

You let up, settling for nasty side glances at him every once in a while instead. Of course, you were met with Dazai's cheeky smile. This bastard really thought that by having a secret relationship—he could be annoying anytime he wanted as long as it was done in secret.

His job required to keep the existence of your relationship confidential—at least that's what he said. You were the cashier at the cafe located beneath their detective agency's office. Dazai was a detective, that's all you knew and that was more than enough apparently.

A secret is a secret, you figured.

Kunikida was starting to give you weird looks from the booth. You flashed an awkward smile and tried waving at him, failing to look normal.

Well... maybe Kunikida knows.

Why else would Dazai be standing behind you while you were at the register? It was either you were up to no good or Dazai's begging you to forget about his hefty tab.

"Who're you waving at?" he whispers into your ear. You failed to realize how close he leaned down to you.

"Kunikida. He's starting to realize something funny's going on."

"Funny you say?" Dazai repeats before humming in thought. Whatever it was that was running through the detective's head—it probably wasn't anything good or innocent.

Dazai finally lets go of your ass, opting to drape an arm across your shoulders instead. It wasn't anything unusual—surprisingly—because Dazai has been known to be 'friendly' with the cafe staff.

He calls the attention of all the customers i.e. Kunikida, Atsushi, Kenji, and Ranpo who is sound asleep. "I'll be accompanying our cute little cashier on her break. Don't miss us!"

It was highly unlikely that anyone would. Kunikida doesn't even give him the time of day while Atsushi offered an uneasy smile. Kenji was his usual upbeat self and Ranpo—was still fast asleep.

────────────

It felt like an eternity of tongues clashing and breathless whispers blending into each other. Your hands were all over his lanky build while his hands remained firm on your behind. If you were to guess which body part he liked the most on a woman—you'd probably get it right.

Dazai pulled away first—not that he was breathless or anything; he just wanted to see what expression you had on your face.

"Someone's eager," he says in a lilted tone.

"Oh stop it. You disappear for a week... A WEEK!"

He laughs it off—disappearing for a week is business as usual for him. "Shhh... I'm here now though, aren't I? Besides, I find it quite cute how excited you are to get your hands on me."

That earned him a weak punch on the chest from you. "You're so annoying."

Dazai lets out another small laugh, amused by your irritation at him. "Oh, darling. You haven't seen the worst of it."

Knowing him and all the shit he pulls, those words should've made you run for the hills soon as you heard it. Dazai leans in, breath fanning the sweaty skin of your neck. It felt cool against the humid air of the cafe's storage room.

"I've got an idea," he whispers. "Don't move, okay?"

You hear a slight ruffling. Perhaps he was retrieving something from his coat pocket. Then, you feel something cold—something metallic—drag along your thigh. Though, you were unsure what it could be.

The feeling kept getting higher and higher, until it was at a place where you most dreaded it would reach. Dazai smiled as he dragged the unknown metallic object against the fabric of your panties.

"Wanna guess what that is, darling?"

You had a hint, but you decided not to indulge him in his silly games.

"You don't know?" he asks. "Well, I hope this helps!"

Dazai, skilled with his fingers, swiped the fabric out of the way and plunged the vibrator in one fluid motion.

"Good thing you got insanely wet from kissing me huh?"

Your first instinct was to close your legs, but Dazai was quick to put a knee between them. "W-what the fuck are you doing?"

"Thought I'd make things exciting," he says with an irritatingly bright smile. "Also because I have to go now."

Grabbing him by the collar, you pull him down to your level. "The fuck you mean you're going? You're seriously leaving me high and dry after basically ghosting me?"

He gives you a half-assed 'apologetic' smile. "I won't be too long. You can do anything to me once I come back."

"Anything?"

"Anything."

────────────

The rest of your shift was—to say the least—downright miserable. Of course, the stupid vibrator could be controlled by him. You weren't sure if it was purely coincidence or if he was secretly watching you, but the damn thing seemed to turn on whenever a customer would come up to the counter.

On the times you thought you could finally sit down and relax a bit, he'll make sure to turn it up a notch and give you a good surprise.

He gave you no reprieve as his antics continued until your shift ended and it was time to clean up. You were the only employee left because it just so happens to be the day when the most arduous clean up task fell into your care.

Once you heard the bell at the door ring and the familiar set of footsteps, you were ready to yell a certain man's ear off.

"Hey, darling."

"You son of a—"

Turning around, you were met with a smiling Dazai with a bouquet of flowers in his clutches. Normally, any other woman receiving flowers from a lover would be over the moon, but not you. Dazai was quite the unconventional man. Flowers were a tricky thing to interpret.

His smile turned lopsided before he slowly approached you. "I got you flowers."

"I can see that."

He chuckles again. "Can't you at least act like you're happy about it?"

"I don't want flowers," you exclaim.

He sighs, placing he beautiful arrangement on the counter beside you. "What do you want then, pretty?"

"You."

Dazai laughs a little louder this time as if what you said was so hilarious to him. "Me? Little ol' me? My sweet thing wants nothing else but me?"

"You're so annoying."

A large hand pats your unkempt hair. "Yes, I know, darling. You tell me almost everyday."

"Liar. I haven't seen you in a week. Besides—what the fuck is up with the vibrator? Do you know how many customers I've had toda—"

He silences you once more, placing a slender finger over your lips. "You get to do anything you want to me now though. Isn't that right, darling?"

The realization hits a bit too late, but it does, and small smile creeps on your face. This was going to be revenge for disappearing and for the stunt earlier.

You ask him to get the vibe out and he obeys without complaint—the metal apparatus stuffed in his pocket again. You hadn't realized how drenched you were until it was pulled out. But that doesn't matter right now. You were a woman on a mission.

No words left your mouth as you made quick work of his belt. Dazai's eyes never left your hands as he smiled to himself.

"Getting to the good part already hm?" he insinuates. But you don't respond, only silently walking behind him to bind his hands with his own belt. You've learned plenty of things from him and this was one of those.

"Ah hah... we're doing that kind of thing huh?" he says, continuing to talk seemingly to himself.

You walk right in front of him again, grabbing his collar like you did earlier today. With his face closer now, he should understand the situation he's in. "Be a good boy for me, okay?" you say before planting a soft kiss on his chapped lips.

Thrill and excitement coursed through every fiber of his being as you roughly pushed him back against the counter. He made himself weightless and easy to push around because this was entertainment for him as much as it was for you.

But the glint in your eyes tells him this wasn't simply any kind of entertainment for you. You had a plan and him not knowing anything for once gave him a rush he had gotten only in the past.

With the strength you had in your arms, you pried his vest and button up open—albeit you had to carefully unbutton some of the stubborn ones.

"It's kinda hot seeing you take control for once," he says.

Once all of the buttons were out of the way, you were met by his mostly bandaged abdomen. Even you were unsure of what was beneath these strips, but he was adamant to keep them on.

You ran your palms over his body, stopping at his heaving chest. "I've never seen you out of breath before. Are you that excited?"

"Am I? You should feel my dick," he counters.

You try your hardest to stifle a laugh by kissing his bandaged chest instead. The soft gesture seemingly had a soothing effect on him as his breathing slowed a bit and his expression mellowed out—like you had put him in a trance.

Then the kisses went lower and lower—his chest, stomach, until you were just above the hem of his trousers. His adam's apple bobbed, swallowing in anticipation.

"Wow," you mutter, palming at his aching erection. "You weren't lying huh?"

His laugh came out choppier than usual as if his typical air of confidence had been blown away. Dazai tried playing it cool. "Can you blame me?"

"Guess not," you shrug nonchalantly before working on the button of his pants. Thanks to having the belt off, his bottoms came off pretty easily—not that you needed it all the way off.

Palming at his hardening cock after the thin fabric of his boxers made his mouth water and his palms clammy. Even Dazai was starting to wonder what the fuck was going on with him. Perhaps it was the thick air inside the stuffy room or because someone was finally putting his ass in its place.

Whichever it was, it only served to make him exhilarated.

"This looks pretty painful," you coo at him. Dazai would have loved to gently caress your head as you knelt in front of him so sweetly, but alas, his hands were still bound behind his back.

He found it hotter how well you restrained him actually.

"Yeah, looks like you should do something about it no?"

In response, you pull the pesky fabric out of he way, freeing his leaking cock. Truth be told, you weren't expecting for him to be fully hard after all that. Dazai was rather... hard to impress—for a lack of a better term.

You swipe his weeping tip with a thumb before spreading pre all along his length. Looking up at him, you ask the question: "My hand or my mouth?"

"Be serious, darling. You know you need both to get all of me."

"Fine. Be a smartass and you get neither."

He lets out a labored breath. "Jeez. Fine. I want your mouth. Pretty please?"

For as much of a pain in the ass he is, hearing him be so compliant for once made him hard to deny. You rewarded him with a small kitty lick on his tip—to test the waters—before licking the underside of his length.

You've learned to pay attention to those spots. Normally, Dazai was good at hiding things, but it was easy to catch on his sensitive points. In the bedroom, with you, he was an open book.

You watched him—how his eyes were fixated on you—while you went down on him. It made you particularly satisfied seeing him throw his head back in pleasure.

It egged you on to fit more of him and to go faster. You gagged more than once and it was messy—really fucking messy.

Just how he liked it.

He had grown uncharacteristically quiet which was usually a good sign in this case. It meant you were doing good—so good in fact, that it shut him up.

Feeling his dick twitch, you knew he was painfully close. But he isn't getting that orgasm he craves so easily. No way.

Before he could bust his load, you pull away—a string of saliva connecting your plump lips to his reddish tip.

Innocently, you stared up at him as if you've done nothing wrong—as if you didn't blue ball him just now.

"Hah... darling... I was so close..."

He sounded so breathless... so desperate. His heart fell to his stomach when you got off your knees and dusted yourself off. Was that it? Was he going to be left standing there with his dick out and aching?

You turn away from him, walking a couple of steps. He could tell you were fiddling with your uniform, but he was concerned more about his predicament down there.

"Thought you were the only one who could edge me?"

He tries to get out of the restraint while you weren't looking, but that blowjob quite literally sucked the strength out of his body.

But all of his movements were halted once you turned around, blouse open and tits out all for him to see.

"Well, two can play that game, darling. Sit tight while you watch me, alright? Gonna play with myself for a bit. Hope ya don't mind."

You tried copying his sing-song tone, but no matter what kind of lighthearted tone you use, there probably isn't one that can fix the frustrated frown on his face.

╰ author's note I'm kinda tired of writing p in v so here you go!! Some good ol' edging and teasing for the soul!!

#bungou stray dogs smut #bungou stray dogs #osamu dazai #dazai x reader #dazai smut #osamu dazai smut #bsd #bsd smut #kinktober #kinktober 2024 #mksu.ktober 24 #mksu.works #bungo stray dogs

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double-aa-batteries · 8 months ago

Text

things about about TSC I can't stop thinking about

"hindsight was a backstabbing bitch"

curtains symbolizing jeans healing journey, how he keeps them closed at Abby's in a effort to recreate the nest in search of some normalcy, how he opens them and looks out the window his new apartment, seeking calm in his overwhelm

"I want to go home" (13) meaning evermore vs. "I want to go home" (329) meaning to his apartment with Laila, Cat and jeremy

the fact that jean's phone is probably still in Abby's freezer

Kevin "their kindness matters" Day

Neil's smile is as unsettling to everyone else as it is to him and he has so much more Nathaniel in him than he recognizes in his own pov

Jean is so similar to neil in that they're both petty, dramatic bitches who care deeply about their teammates' safety

riko and the ravens quite literally took jean's name from him (Jean-Yves, Jonny, Paris)

"[Renee's] love was so tender it looked like grief as it curled her mouth and made her eyes shine"

jean gets forehead kisses from Renee and Cat

"that creepy little goalkeeper Andrew Minyard"

jean's many nicknames for neil: tiny bastard, tedious malcontent, abominable cockroach, wretched little runaway, ignorant child, etc.

Neil took the bandage off of jeans 3 and promptly stuck it over Kevin's chess peice

"I should have let him kill you," Jean said. "Probably," Neil agreed, "but you didn't, so here we all are."

"...aside from his outstanding murder charge, there was nothing interesting about that fox"

the fact that the point of tfc was to show characters who couldn't/wouldn't/ or were unable to heal from the trauma they had faced and yet from the very beginning and without question, TSC is about jean clawing his way forward and toward healing no matter what

the cheese drawer

dadmack dialed up to 1,000 See: "i will burn this house down before I let them touch you"

bisexual jean Moreau panicking over his teammates in swimsuits and Jeremy's long legs

"He's earned the right to be arrogant"

riko couldn't bring himself to hurt wymack because he was Kevin's father and Kevin was like a brother to riko and riko has always yearned for a father's recognition

Alvarez has a motorcycle and jean didn't say no to learning how to ride it

we know next to nothing about Jeremy Knox despite having chapters in his pov (why was he in therapy? why was his dad in France? what the hell did he do at the Fall banquet his freshman year to tear his family in half?)

that being said: Jeremy Knox is a rich boy with a butler

everything about Catalina Alverez

the fact that Jeremy knox has two brothers and one of them is probably dead

"rather than force the Trojans underground for that part, they simply built steps up and over it inside the stadium" the JUXTAPOSITION

Alvarez cooks and so now does jean

we know for a fact riko subjected Kevin to "subtler cruelties" while he was in the nest

"they never should have said yes when you asked" and "I didn't ask"

"as if you can tell a girl apart from a cow on a good day"

"permission to break his face, coach?" jean asked. "denied," white said.

all of thanksgiving pt. II

"alarm looked wrong on a face born for smiling"

jean casually saying "your apologies are as useful as perfume on a frog" to Lucas

Neil's whole relationship with Jean

David "I believe we all have the choice to be better than the hands that shaped us" Wymack

Neil generally being a menace to society but especially "Neil, being the person he was, pointed at the fire hydrant adjacent to it's front bumper and said, 'thats illegal, just so you know.'"

"the cracking heat in his chest could have been his ribs snapping or his heart breaking"

#tsc #tsc spoilers #the sunshine court #aftg #all for the game #jean moreau #neil josten #andrew minyard #kevin day #jeremy knox #cat alvarez #laila dermott

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knight-dwx-09 · 1 month ago

Text

Hiding (Not Really) From Them

Jaune cleave a Beowolf in half with a great sword that wasn’t a Croceo Mors. As the last Grimm evaporates, he let his eyes roamed a bit to search for any Grimm left in the area.

Jaune: Okay, that should be the last one of them. Now, I just need to back to the village to report the situation and grab my payment.

He sheathed his sword into the scabbard on his waist.

Jaune: I should wait for her to call me before I leave, today is Friday so it will be any second now.

Right on cue, his scroll began to rings, causing him to smiled brightly as he pick it up to reveal smiling Neo on the screen.

Jaune: Hello Neo!

Neo: *Waving*

Jaune: So, where are you now?

Neo: Atlas

She speaks thanks to the device on her neck that try to predict what she want to say into text-to-speak. It’s not perfect but it’s still good enough to communicate without hand gestured or typing on a scroll.

Jaune: Cool, no pun intended, any luck on stealing from the criminals and finding the information for other artifact?

Neo: Couple stupid idiots, one even use just one password and one pin for all of his money and secret document. As for the latter, none. You?

Jaune: Same, just a couple of Grimm and protecting Villages, haven’t see much from Salem’s cult as well. Seems like they went into hiding after I destroyed a lot of their camp.

Neo: And you aren’t being too hard on yourself, right?

Jaune: They weren’t much to exert me that far. I don’t even have to rely on Lyssa to fight them.

Lyssa: *Speak in Jaune’s mind* Damn right you are, these weakling are even worthy for master’s skills, let alone to withstand against my power! And worry not Neo, I ensure you that I will keep tabs on master’s health and force him to get enough sleep and nutrients!

Jaune let out a deep chuckle as he pat the sword on his back, which was wrapped in a bandage.

Jaune: And Lyssa told me she’s going to protect me and make sure I don’t slip back into my old habits. So, really, you don’t have to worry about me anymore.

Neo: That’s good to know, because I promised if I ever saw or know that you are awake late in night, swinging your sword like a madman, I WILL go to your current location and suffocate you in my thighs or tits, pick your funeral.

Jaune: *Chuckle nervously* You make it sound like it was a threat.

Neo: Because it is.

Jaune: I will keep that in mind.

Neo: … I know this isn’t something for me to say nor that I really care, but shouldn’t you visit your friends by now? It’s been 6 months since you last saw them in the hospital.

Jaune: Believe me, I have been dying to do so. But you know, somehow, all of the mission I saw and get was in Vacuo or a remote area, and once every a blue moon that I have a mission in Atlas or Vale or Menagerie, my friends weren’t there. Just my rotten luck. Besides, they need rest after the war and I don’t think my absent will affect them that badly.

———

Yang: *Red Eyes and blazing hair* If I finally captured that bastard, I will make him have second thought about abandoning all of us ever again! Stupid Vomit boy, making all of us, including my sweet little sister, cry our eyes out!

Blake: I know I don’t have any right to judge him but I will help you on that, I will bring the handcuff and leash so we could tied him with us forever so he won’t be able to run away.

———

Jaune: Heck, I am sure they are really busy with their new life to even think about me. With Dust in the world become even more rarer after the final fight, Weiss is trying to find another source of resource to replace Dust while fix her family legacy. You even say that Ruby is helping out Weiss while keeping Atlas save. And that is a lot of work!

———

Ruby: I miss my Best friend, Weiss, I miss him so much. *munching on a cookies while snuggling with Weiss*

Weiss: I also miss him… *Whisper* Where are you my Knight… your princess is waiting for you to come back… *eating blueberry frozen yogurt*

———

Jaune: And I heard Kuroyuri are being rebuild! I am so proud of Ren and Nora, they could finally settled down and have a family. I do pray for Ren’s pelvis, I remember that Nora wanting to beat my family scored of 8 children.

———

Both Nora and Ren could be seen in Mistral, handing out papers with smiling Jaune when he still has the banana hair and written missing under it.

Nora: Have you seen our golden retriever son? I miss him so much! *Large tears running down her face*

Ren: Our boy have run away from us, we aren’t ready to let him go just yet. Is it because I yelled at him when we try to get Oscar back? I am sorry my boy for being too hard at you. *Lamented with black cloud over his head*

———

Jaune: *Shrugged* I am sure they are doing just fine

Neo: *rolled her eyes* And when are you gonna tell them about our relationship?

Jaune: When my jobs are near them. I just wish our scroll were destroyed in the last fight, I don’t even have their number to call them anymore.

Neo: Well, I just hope they would accept us being a thing, not that I care about their opinion on us.

Jaune: *Chuckled* I am sure they are already warm up to you, including you to them.

Neo flip the bird which cause him to laugh even harder.

Jaune: Anyway, I should get going now. I don’t want to worried the villagers with me being gone for a while now. Nice meeting with you, I will call you next week again, Neo.

Neo: *Looked down in sadness* I really miss you… I wish we could have gone together…

Jaune: …Me too… I also wish you could be my side… so I could talk together everyday and hug you all I want… and kiss you all day… but you already know why we separate for now, we have role to fulfill.

Neo: I know… it just suck that you aren’t there when I woke up in the cold, lonely bed, greeting me with that dopey, kind smile of yours to warm my day up.

Jaune: Well… maybe we can arrange something so we could spent a week together in the future

Neo: *Look up with a logging in her eyes and smiled* I would love that.

Suddenly, he can hear an alarm flared up on the other side of the call.

Neo: Well, it seems like they finally noticed their money is missing. They really should use it to upgrade their brain, I am surprised they managed to go this far with it.

Jaune: Neo, what did I say about calling me in the middle of a heist?

Neo: Please, as if you have the right to say that, ‘Mister-who-call-me-even-in-the-middle-of-hoard-of-Grimm’.

Jaune: *Sigh* Fine, just be careful.

Neo: Who do you think I am? *Smirking smugly*

Jaune: Well, that’s it for this week. Don’t forget, it will be your turn next.

Neo: *Rolled eyes* I know, just make sure you remember this number.

Jaune: I won’t, love you dear.

Neo: Love you too. Also, Lyssa, take care of our reckless partner and don’t let him jump into danger.

The sword of destruction began to shine as a small girl appeared on its place and grab hold on Jaune like a Koala, head peaking out so Neo could see her.

Lyssa: Don’t worry, this foolish master of my will not endanger his life as long as I am still by his side.

Neo: That’s good to know… see ya next week.

With the call ended, he gripped his scroll until it shattered under his hand.

Jaune: Well, are you ready for our next mission, Partner?

Lyssa: I want to sweet chocolate cake first! It has been a week since I had one and I believe I deserve one.

Jaune: *Chuckled* Okay, lets ask the chief if the place had any bakery or a cafe.

With that, the wandering knight set forth on his journey even after the war ended 6 months ago, leaving (Not Really) his friends behind as every single one of them have something in mind which they are gonna do to the knight if they find him, if, since it seem like Fate or Gods itself have another thing in mind for him and have taken a liking at his funny story unfolding. But we will see what the future’s hold for them.

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aetherrx · 21 days ago

Text

LaDS x Reader | Acid Burns

Disclaimer | Fem reader | Injury Wc | 940 Note: Was going to write smut but it just went into a different direction oops. It’s also kind of rushed, sorry ☹. •─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────••─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────••─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

Bang! Bang! Bang!

You aimed your pistol at the terrifying wanderer, its acidic spittle barely missing your face as you ducked and rolled, tucking behind a hidden alcove. Your fellow hunters were scattered around various checkpoints, the multitude of wanderers on this little island needing both the UNICORNS team and foreign team to ward off the frightful beings.

Shots fired, you managed to blast through the creature’s head, its discoloured blood squirting over the ground, painting the green with its insides. “We need backup!” Tara exclaimed from a few meters away, her face scrunched in pain as she held her side.

You cursed, eyes surveying the bloody patch seeping through her hunter’s uniform. “Tara! Get out of here, you’ll be no use to us dead,” you commanded, eyes ablaze. You knew she wanted to argue, but with the blood seeping through her fingers, she knew better than to push on.

Besides, there was only one wanderer left.

Once you were certain Tara had left the vicinity, you jumped from your hiding place, pistols firing rapidly against the wanders breastplate. Fucking acidic bastards.

“That right, bastard,” you snickered, lips pulling as you watched its nostrils flare, breathing in your scent. “Come at me.” You swivelled, jumping over its head as it jumped at you, swirling confidently as your gun pointed at its eye, pulling the trigger.

A blast of acid flew from its mouth as the bullet infiltrated its iris, blasting its ‘brain’ to bits.

You heard screaming. Who was screaming? The last wanderer was dead. That’s when you realised it was you screaming. Peering down, face scrunched in pain, you watched helplessly as the acid burnt through the fabric atop your midriff, burning and gurgling as it settled against your skin.

Groans of pain escaped your lips, hands quivering as they hovered over the acidic burns covering the entire left side of your midriff, eyes welling with tears at the searing pain. Do not cry. Not here. Show no weakness.

You winced at your internal screaming, ignoring the fact it’d sounded too much like the Onychinus boss for your liking.

You watched in a daze, hunters passing by you and to you, their hands cradling and pulling at you. Stop. It hurts.

It hurts so much.

Your vision blurred, a hazy lens covering your eyes as you were lifted, being carried off to a medical carrier, until you blacked out.

You forgot to call Sylus back.

You woke to bleary eyes and ringing ears. A small groan escaped your lips as you struggled to sit up, wincing as a sharp pain seared your side. The acid. The Wanderer. Passing out.

“You’re lucky to be alive,” A familiar voice said from the corner of the room. Zayne. “Had the acid been left any longer, it would have completely burnt through your skin and boiled your intestines.” You winced at the image, lifting a hand to rub at your temple.

You were silent, avoiding his probing eyes as your hand fiddled with the thin white sheet covering you, noticing the large bandages wrapped around your entire torso. Was it really that bad?

“It was really that bad,” Zayne deadpanned. “Apply this ointment to the entire area every night for the next three weeks. The pain should be completely gone by then.”

The next few weeks blurred by; your home had become the hub of visitation. Zayne made sure to come by every week to check on your burns and take quick diagnostics, though you surmised he’d been visiting to make sure you hadn’t dropped down dead since your last visits.

Xavier had dropped by once on the second week when you, according to him, had dropped off the face of the earth for an entire month. You seemed to have forgotten that you hadn’t seen the hunter for weeks before your accident.

“You almost died,” he murmured quietly once you’d told him about your encounter with the acidic wanderer. “I should have been there.” You couldn’t stand to watch him beat himself up over it, even if he’d left without saying a word for weeks.

That night he held onto you for hours, murmuring in his sleep every so often; just silly mutterings about neutralizing all acidic wanderers.

Every other night, you’d video call Sylus’, who had raged on for days about being too busy to come and see you in person, but he kept sending over Mephisto to keep you company, the bird always wrapped around your arms like a kitten.

“Silly bird,” you chuckled, finger scratching at his head as his beak opened into a squark. “You better tell your owner to come and see me soon.” You couldn’t help but pout.

A sudden pin sounded from your phone.

Criminal <3: Don’t pout too much. I’ll come and see you tomorrow.

: You Better. Mephisto misses you.

Criminal <3: Just Mephisto?

You couldn’t help the blush spreading across your cheeks. “Cheeky,” you muttered, lips protruding into a deeper pout.

A few days after that, Rafayel swirled in like a sea storm, bringing a multitude of snacks and paints with him.

“I have to paint my damsel in distress. It’s a once in a lifetime opportunity.” You could only roll your eyes.

Though, he did settle down next to your lying form, resting his palm against your forehead. “Don’t die on me, cutie. I forbid you from leaving me.” You chuckled, threading your hand through his.

“Why would I ever leave you?”

#love and deepspace #lads rafayel #lads sylus #lads xavier #lads zayne #lads x reader #lads x mc #sylus x reader #xavier x reader #rafayel x reader #zayne x reader

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banj0possum · 11 months ago

Note

OK, but imagine the mate for the zombie hoard trying to "fix" the zombies

Like the reader trying to find a replacement eye for soda

Or trying to help with ribs by putting back their ribs into their body

Zombie Horde HCs

a bit short but thats because i got quite a few cookin up rn, yan gang got me in a mood

💀 Screw finds all sorts of stuff that he shows everyone, most of them he uses to try and replace the other's body parts.

💀 You've tried making a few things in the past, like a small ball for Soda's missing eye or some kind of mouth guard for Bo.

💀 There are times however when they get uncomfortable with them and remove them, it doesn't feel right yk?

💀 Ribs' bones are a lost cause, you've tried putting back his ribs but whatever bandages or tape you use, Ribs somehow broke it and the bone is dangling pitifully in his ribcage. You gotta make sure he feels loved <3

💀 Screw tries to cover the bone on his arms and legs with fabric or bandages, he's a little insecure about it so

💀 The most they try to do is cover up their open wounds or internal parts, it gets chilly and you don't want your hubbies to freeze!

💀 Bo tries to make sure Ribs keeps his sweater on, but the little bastard keeps trying to take it off.

💀 Bo likes scarves that cover his teeth. Please kiss him through the scarf, he loves it!!

💀 They make sure you know they're grateful for everything you do to help them out with a whole lot of kisses and cuddles and fucking

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yanderefarm · 2 months ago

Note

Ares with a other yandere?

ares x yandere

cw;; abuse, violence, gore, blood, domestic abuse, yandere tendencies

he would be terrible for a fellow yandere because he would want to push your buttons so badly. he would do everything short of actually cheating on you to get your reaction. i don't know if he's really fully prepared for the consequences of pushing you too far but he accepts them gratefully. he gets it like he really gets it to him there's no truer love. so like for him getting the bad end is more like getting the best ending.

oh you're just like him aren't you? you were so good at hiding it that ares didn't notice for a long time. i mean, your obsessive little wife wasn't supposed to give you a reason to snap. honestly the closest you had come was early in your relationship when ares's ex husband was still alive but luckily he'd taken care of that problem on his own. so you had no reason to show your jealousy.

but after enough time in domestic bliss a thought starts to take hold in your mind. every time ares takes a little too long to answer your texts while you're working it comes to you. every time you see people stare at your beautiful wife it comes to you. everytime you take a little too long to get home at night it comes to you. he's cheating on you. you're not enough for him anymore. you can imagine elaborate scenarios of him sneaking behind your back the way he did his ex husband. you know how easy it is for him and how willing he is to do it from first hand experience.

you finally show your wife your true colors one night after a date. someone at the bar had ordered a drink for ares while you were in the bathroom and then when ares accepted it the bastard came over to flirt with your wife. you were certain that ares had set it up to show you how he had other better options than you. you ended the date shortly after that, too angry to just enjoy the night with your wife. instead you waited in the parking lot for the bastard to come outside.

ares who had been in tears thinking you hated him until he watched transfixed as your fists laid into the man's face. you beat the man who had flirted with him into a bloody messy, your knuckles cut and messy from the impact against his bones. he was dying. ares watched you beat a man to death because of him.

after helping you take care of the body the first thing when you got home ares jumped you. he didn't let you clean up, choosing instead to lick the blood splattered on your skin while he rode you in the living room. he was so turned on that it wasn't until the next morning he finally let you get cleaned up and he bandaged your hands. you thought that would have gotten the idea in his head not to go after anyone else. but it had the opposite effect.

if before you were just paranoid and sick now you were constantly being proven right and sick. ares would flirt with your coworkers, he would send you pictures of him at bars with other men, he would proposition other men right in front of you. he clearly got a kick out of it but to you it was torture. it made you sick to reward his provocations but you couldn't help but get angry, you couldn't help but lose control on those men.

you weren't like him though. you weren't content to sit still and kill everyone who touched him, you didn't like killing. and you definitely weren't about to turn the table on him and start flirting with other people. instead you decided there was only one course of action, you drugged your wife. the hardest part was quietly getting him down to the basement but once you did the rest was smooth sailing.

you locked ares in the basement. you chained him to a pipe and gave him a mattress to sleep on. he wanted to play games and hurt your feelings so until you could trust him again he was going to stay in one spot. it killed you when he managed to escape the handcuffs and you had to break his leg to keep him from running away. you told him how much you hated hurting him while he just smiled through his tears and said he understood.

he understood you better than anyone else and even though it was painful he was so glad you loved him so much. he would say thank you when you brought him food and he would cling to and nuzzle your leg before you left him down there. it was different but it was definitely still a form of domestic bliss with how much he loved you.

#top male reader #dom male reader #male reader #sub yandere #yandere x male reader #yandere ideas #yandere oc #yandere x reader #yandere housewife #replies #yandere drabble #yandere male #yandere x yandere #yandere reader

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uchispeach · 28 days ago

Text

Sycamore Tree (Ch.5)

Dark! Rafe Cameron x Fem! Reader

Warnings: violence, mention of injuries, obsessive and possessive behavior, manhandling, manipulation, choking, coercion, dubious consent, SMUT (sexual content)….

This fic will contain dark content: such as dub-con/ non-con and violence. You have been warned.

“What were they wearing?…No, no, forget about the clothes; how tall they were?” JJ frantically tapped his head, hoping a face would pop out in his brain; someone he could focus his rage on. “My head was buried in the sand the whole time.” Pope’s voice showed his deep exasperation.

There was a suffocating tension isolated in the four walls of The Château’s guest room. JJ’s anxiousness, Pope’s pain and Sarah’s uncalled presence made a dreadful combination. “Then…what did the fuckers smell like, huh?” The rebellious blond gripped the mattress’ edges as he breathed onto Pope’s bandaged face. “Couldn’t sniff them with my broken nose.” He coughed while grabbing his abdomen in a hurt gesture.

“Jayj” Kiara was the first to step up, abandoning her seat next to you. “Let him rest” Your sister pulled the blond by his shoulder in an attempt to give the injured boy some space. “This is bullshit…masked bastards beating the shit out of the calmest person in the whole island.” JJ backed away from where Pope’s bruised body rested. “That’s a Kook move” His pale finger pointed at his other friend.

John B crossed his arms in a disapproving look. “It’s not time for plotting.” You sighed while watching the erratic boy being escorted out of the room. “C’mon John” The complaints were muffled by the door closing, leaving you, Kie and Sarah squished on the old sofa.

“I’ll go make some ginger tea…it helps with the inflammation.” The Kook girl smiled empathetically while quickly laying her fingertips on Pope’s leg. The last mentioned nodded with disinterest.

The brunette next to you sighed, “and I’ll go grab the missing medication.” The car keys jingled as the last person exited the room. Almost automatically, your legs moved to position themselves by the bed. Your hands shifted as well, transferring heat to your friend’s cold ones as you delicately wrapped your small fingers around his.

Your gaze lifted up with shyness, and your eyes immediately regretted it as the centimeters of bruised skin and bloodied gauzes reminded you of the doctor’s veredict: two broken ribs, a broken nose, a black eye and a bloated knee. A chilling sensation toured your whole body, causing you to grimace in uncomfortableness.

An overwhelming sadness invaded you. And you couldn’t hold it together when you saw Pope’s tired gaze. Salty tear after salty tear entered your mouth as your sobs echoed across the four walls. “Angel, don’t cry.” His weak hand squeezed yours and you couldn’t help but weep even more at the shown worry.

(…)

You should be asleep by now, but you couldn’t bring yourself to lay on the beat up mattress.

Perhaps, John B should have allowed you to stay up with them, accompanying Pope on his dreadful night. But you were quickly sent to what used to be Big John’s room, all in hopes of getting well deserved rest -still, all you had managed to do was walk around in circles-.

The chilling breeze penetrated your exposed skin and the oversized shirt you wore as pajamas did little to prevent it. Your naked steps made the floor creak when you tried to reach the cause of your discomfort. The window was stubborn, refusing to nudge.

You were still struggling when the rustling of the wind was disturbed by a louder sound. The grass was crushed under what seemed to sound like heavy feet on the ground and the occasional bumping against the yard’s multiple garbage occasioned you to stay alert.

The strenuous metal pieces that laid on John B’s property seemed to suffer the clumsy presence of an intruder, clattering in no particular order. “Hello” You were brave enough to stick your head out, immediately regretting your choice as the cold air hit your warm cheeks.

The moon’s light was the only thing shining, allowing you to discern a big shadow moving right in front of you. You were about to back down when a pair of strong hands reached out the darkness to grab you.

Long fingers locked around your jaw, gripping it hard while burying their tips on your sensitive skin. The pain was immediate, making you squirm on the stranger’s hold. “No!” You squealed; and as soon as the short word was out of your throat, a warm breath invaded your senses, followed by another palm.

This time your nose and mouth were squished under the ruthless hand. Still, the metallic smell of silver rings was able to leak into your nostrils. Your eyes closed, submerging deeper into the sensation of warmth coming from the burly trespasser.

“Don’t make a noise.” Suddenly, you saw it clear, a pair of dark blue eyes decorating a sharp face; strands of blond hair sticking to his forehead’s sweat and flexed muscles stretching his polo shirt to the maximum capacity. “Rafe” Your sweet voice was choked down by the heavy weight of his fingers. “Let me in.” It didn’t sound like an ask, and it was confirmed by the way he pushed you back by the chin, forcing you to take a few steps back.

Your gasp was overshadowed by the wood croaking under the blond’s movement. Sloppy limbs climbing over the window and finally falling onto the cool floor. Your knees ended up by his side, frail arms extending to meet his hard back.

“What happened?” Your brows furrowed at the worrying sight: The Cameron boy struggling to stay steady, losing control of his own body as his gaze lost itself on the dirtiness of the tiles. “You’re hurt.” You commented on his bruised knuckles. Still, no reply.

Your neck moved to the side, looking for an explanation in Rafe's eyes. A deep groan was all you got from him as he stood up aggressively.

You flinched when he supported himself on you to stand straight, stumbling upon his own feet as you threw his arm over your smaller shoulders. “You don’t fucking understand.” He pronounced with a tense jaw, just as coarse as his need to crush himself against your side.

You felt deeply suffocated by the pressure he applied on your nape and ribs with his body. “Slow” Your tone was soft, helping him make his way onto the bed.

With an actual surface to rest, he applied less force to his grip, allowing you to sit right next to him.

Comforting fingertips caressed his cheek as you guided his attention to the concerned look on your features. He pierced into your being, troubled stare making you shriek slightly, “you shouldn’t have drove all the way here in this state.” Alcohol and tobacco in the air, contaminating his signature cologne. “You force my hand.” It was more like a grunt than an actual sentence.

You found his bloodied skin once again, making you reach out for the small cuts. He noticed the anxiety exuding through your pores. “Got into a fight with- with a prick.” His tongue doubted at the last part. “Everyone thinks I’m a fucking joke.” His free hand wrapped around your slender wrist, applying an unnecessary strength to it.

Air got stuck in your throat at the threat of a snapped joint. “Nor your dad or anyone else deserves to make you feel this way.” You paused to get closer, your naked thighs stroking his, “…stop being so hard on yourself.” Honeyed whispers traveling all the way to his buzzing ears.

His breathing pace became a mess, signs of the turmoil growing in his mind. Your mouth opened in hopes of initiating a conversation, and hopefully ending it with a successful intervention; but before a single syllable was pronounced, the Cameron boy was already punching on you.

Fingers securing your head by tugging on your silky hair, mouth moving hungrily on yours as your waist was gripped harshly by ringed fingers. You couldn’t keep up with his consuming lust, gasping for air as soon as he allowed you a break.

A streak of saliva connected your lips even when your faces slightly distanced. Your skin promptly looked for his contact, rubbing your nose with his in an affectionate dance.

Your delicate touch exuded a sweet nature, hugging his shoulders with light limbs. In contrast, Rafe gave your roots a last pull, drawing a pained pant from you; the blond took the opportunity by forcing his tongue into you.

His wet muscle twisted expertly while exploring every corner of your sensitive cave. He didn’t hold back when it came to intruding in foreign places, such as your narrow throat; causing you to choke up on his taste.

You squirmed away at the best of your capacities, only achieving a brief break from his selfish desire.

He didn’t take it well, letting go of your waist in favor of squeezing your throat.

“Rafe” Your muffled voice was accompanied by small hands trying to pacify the uncomfortable grip.“No one else can have this…but me.” You nodded softly in response, a mindless gesture sent by your dizzy impulses.

You didn’t dare to protest when the blond guided you by the neck onto the bed. As soon as your nape hit the pillow, his burly thighs made themselves present on each side of yours, caging you in his embrace. His arms didn’t wait much before using their brute force and breaking your shirt in half.

The fabric snapping in half made an ugly noise, causing you to flinch. “Stay still,” He grunted on your face, fed up by your need to hide from him. You gave in for a moment, allowing him to fondle your exposed skin with as much harshness as his aching desire dictated him.

He rubbed his open palms up and down your torso, warming your body with delicious friction. Your breath got stuck in your throat as soon as his hand reached your breasts, squeezing the mounts and pinching your nipples between his long fingers.

A particular harsh pinch had you instinctively pushing him away, or at least trying to. But your efforts were quickly dissipated by a secure lock that kept your wrists squished together. “Stop fucking pushing me away!” He shouted while cutting the distance between your faces. “I’m sorry,” your eyes squeezed together in self defense.

“You’re mine.” His voice was muffled between licks, he tickled your neck and clavicles with his tongue. Not one single part of your exposed body was left unloved.

He enjoyed rolling your most sensitive parts with his wet muscle, provoking honeyed mewls and breathless moans from you. “You drive me insane…wanna see that sweet pussy of yours,” he said while pawing at your cotton panties.

His desperation leaked through his fingertips while the pink underwear slid down your legs. Between fogged eyes you could discern the blond’s hand sneaking the private piece of clothing into his pocket, that only made you feel more flustered.

You were taken by surprise when your knee’s back touched your ribs. Rafe accommodated himself in between, a big predatory smirk on his pretty face.

Some drops of a warm liquid fell on your folds, sliding down and reaching your entrance. “Gotta make it wetter.” He grinned playfully, big digits reaching for the soaked thing.

Your legs wiggled at the sensation of Rafe’s fingers combining his spit and your wetness with circling movements. He was merciless, rubbing your clit until it turned red.

Your whimpers fueled the blond’s ego; making you grip the sheets with overstimulation as you felt a foreign object teasing your walls. His digit was welcomed by your cozy hole, immediately tightening around it.

One finger soon became two and when you finally felt three of his callused knuckles diving harshly into you, the knot that had been painfully forming inside of you was ready to snap.

Wet noises were overshadowed by a series of high pitched screams. Your orgasm leaked everywhere, soaking the boy up. As you were about to apologize for the mess you’ve just created, the blond took his drenched fingers and teased your plump lips with it.

You complied, opening your mouth and allowing the nectar to invade your taste. His eyes held an intensity to them, dilated pupils completely mesmerized by your teary eyes.

The tears grew thicker as his digits hit the back of your throat. The Cameron boy enjoyed playing with your vulnerability, forcing you to take more than you could handle.

“Shhh” His voice sent chills down your spine. Shushing the coughing that followed your mouth’s release. The next thing you felt was his heavy breathing on your sensitive sex. He didn’t resist long before sucking on it, wide licks covering the whole of it.

“Wait-” Your elbows sank on the mattress as your head lifted up. “It hurts.” You were referring to the new orgasm waiting to be freed at the expense of your own sanity, Rafe only chuckled mockingly -immersing his wet muscle deep inside-.

(…)

The night had been long, the blond made you come multiple times on his tongue and palms, ignoring your pleas for a break until his own pants were stained.

An unapologetic friction made you regain some consciousness. Your eyes itched under the leaking sun rays as a groggy groan caused you to become fully aware.

A nose sank on the top of your head while a meaty thigh pressed itself against your naked sex. “Good morning, Angel.” The nickname sounded pure, contrasting the way he pawed at your breasts.

You squealed at the fastening pace that took place between your legs. Rafe was amused by your body’s reaction, rubbing his hardened cock against your lower back. “Oh…I think you were too loud.” You could sense a snarky grin overpowering the blond’s features.

The steps on the hall grew louder, only stopping when reaching the closed door.

There was a gentle knock and then a familiar voice, “Y/N…everything alright?”

You were formulating a decent response when the boy’s leg started bouncing up and down at an unbearable speed. Your moan was hardly muffled by your ashamed palm. “I- I’ll be out…” The blond strands of hair easily tangled between your fingers as you indirectly begged for some sort of modesty.

“…out in a minute.” You hardly finished the sentence. “Alright” John B didn’t sound as convinced when he walked away, still, you let out the biggest exhale when Rafe’s torture stopped. “Thought you were going to moan my whole name at that Pogue.” His tone was playful, pinching your ribs while laying a small kiss on your hairline.

“Please…don’t do that again.” You were now facing him, elbows supporting your weight. Even though your ask was polite, the blond’s response wasn’t.

He sat down, causing the blanket to slip from his body and reveal his toned chest. “Do what, huh?” He instigated, mocking eyes burning on yours. “Rub your soaked pussy.” His smirk was closer to your shy mouth, teasing you with a peck on them.

“But you fucking love it,” his teeth buried slowly on your lower lip, sending a pleasurable shiver down your back. He smiled truthfully when you leaned closer, searching for his contact. “How are you feeling?” You hesitantly asked while hiding your face under his.

“That old man’s stubbornness is starting to tire me the fuck out.” He sighed from the back of his lungs, clearly distressed by his father’s attitude. “What is it this time?” You felt bold by dropping the question when caressing his ear lobe with your own cheek.

“Had some trouble buying the generators…they haven’t arrived yet.” Your brows furrowed together, “but that isn’t your fault.” You validated him, undoubtedly believing every single word he told you. “Either way, gonna fix it this week.” He sounded secure, always backing things up with that particular confidence of his.

“Okay, let me know if I can help.” The soft smooch caressed his neck’s skin, creating a comforting sensation for him. “I know about a few ways you could be useful.” The mischievousness in his voice was almost tangible.

“Oh-” You were interrupted by a notification, followed by a vibration coming from the night table. Your bodies were forced to distance as you focused on the screen; ‘bro, get out the bed. It’s late,’ Kiara’s message read.

“You didn’t tell me you broke your phone.” You were slightly confused by his remark. “What?…Oh, yeah I did. I guess I can be really clumsy sometimes.” You giggled nervously at the reminder, still, Rafe wore a serious face. “I’ll get you a new one.” He sounded decisive, not giving you space for doubt. “No…Don’t bother.” You expressed your honest opinion either way. “Don’t bother?…You’re my girl, of course I’m going to fucking bother.”

“I-” Obnoxious knocking took you both out of the subject. “Wake your ass up, it’s about to be noon.” Your sister’s voice held no sympathy, as it mostly never did when it was directed your way. “Y/N!” She became louder, fist growing more strength against the poor piece of wood. “Sorry!…just give me a second.” You peeled your eyes at the Cameron boy, encouraging him to get up.

He lazily stood up, his position revealing his hard abdomen and burly muscles. Your anxiety contrasted his nonchalance, evident in the way he calmly dressed up. “Rafe!” You squealed on the low, careful to not alert the angry girl outside. “Yeah…Yeah” He paid no mind to your desperation, taking his time to grab the side of your face.

“C’mon!” The brunette shouted while the blond planted a long kiss on your forehead. “Behave.” His demand sounded almost like a growl for its dominating nature. “Don’t do anything you’ll regret later, alright?” You had to uncomfortably bend your neck to look him straight in the eyes.

Without a real idea of what he meant with his aggressive words, you could only nod in submission.

(…)

“This is disgusting.” Your sister said while looking at the boutique’s mirror. The pale silk dress combined with the flower crown made your sister’s stomach twist with fervering annoyance. “What do you mean? It’s perfect for Midsummers.” The older woman caressed the brunette’s hair in hopes of smoothing her bad mood. “I look like a bourgeoisie pig” The later answered by frowning at the reflection.

“Look Kiara, I know you wanted to spend the day at Jen’s but…just try to be civil.” Your mom was oblivious to the actual reason you were both so adamant on assisting today’s dressing appointment. “Come on, let’s try on the purple one!” Anna chirped with excitement, contrasting the sour sigh your sister let out when she was thrown again in the changing room.

You exhaled with a newfound tranquility, finally free from your family’s disagreements. Taking advantage of the rare peaceful moment, you checked your phone -looking for any important news regarding Pope’s health-.

These couple days had been challenging, dealing with your friend’s recovery, JJ’s wildness, Sarah and Kiara’s rivalry and Hayward's questions about his son's location; it had all taken a toll on you.

Your hands swam between the infinite choices that were presented in front of you. You tried to occupy your mind by comparing the different colors and textures the dresses had, but the distraction was short lasting when familiar voices echoed through the store.

“Of course Mrs. Thornton. We will contact our seamstress as soon as possible.” The receptionist’s throat sounded as it was being restricted, the nervousness clear in her tone. “Topper, take the suitcases.” Topper’s mother commanded, her voice didn’t show a single hint of doubt or hesitation.

Your limbs went lightly stiff when you heard heavy footsteps getting closer to where you stood. You saw his tall figure tuning the corner, blond hair brushed to the side, tight polo shirt and brown loafers completing the Kook look. “Hi…” You awkwardly greeted him, noticing him slightly grimacing at your presence. “Hi,” he dryly responded, scanning you from head to toe before completely turning around.

You felt a wave of insecurity rushing through your being, making you fidget a little. The blond avoided your gaze as he looked for a place to install the clothes filled bags. “Let me help with that.” You shyly suggested while getting by his side. “Don’t” He roughly reacted at your hands reaching out for the heavy load.

“Oh, ok” You backed up immediately, not wanting to disturb the Kook’s patience. Seconds passed like hours as you followed his movements closely, almost perplexed at his dislike for you. “Look Topper, I know you probably hate me…” He scoffed at your comment. His humorless face made you feel a tad more uncomfortable. “…and I know it wasn’t easy for you…but I’m thankful for your…choice.” It felt like you were walking on fire as each word left your mouth. Regret started bubbling in your stomach; you weren’t sure as to why you chose to remember the awful incident that almost made your friend end up in jail.

And you were let utterly weirded out as the Thornton boy shook his head in short laughter, wearing a half-hearted smirk while making his way out the dress filled room. “You shouldn’t be thanking me.”

A/N: Thank you to all the lovely people who reblog and comment. It motivates me to continue writing 💕

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