#there will be blood x reader

[soupbabe]

Can I get an assortment of the Dano characters you write for with a s/o that loves to garden? Or a s/o that enjoys painting/sketching them? (I wanted to send you a request but I'm so bad at requests EEK SORRY!)

Gardening with Paul Dano Characters

Featuring: Louis Ives, Jay, Eli Sunday, Hank Thompson

T33TH HI!! I loved your idea and I think it's a cute prompt for the warmer months!! Tbh I just used this to write some of my favs + get some practice in writing some characters I barely written for! <33

Eli Sunday

- I think he would help you create a garden, whether for extra money or just for you to enjoy

- Don't exactly rely on him to do a lot of hard work though

- Sure Eli will provide the supplies and everything you need throughout the day

- but after you're done planting, he would want you to pray with him for a bountiful garden, for rain to come and bless your crops, and then that's it

- Would go on about how "we're" making great things together and how it's wonderful that you both are giving back to God's Earth

- Even though all he didn't do anything and you had to cater to the garden throughout the entire season

- Don't bring it up he'll deny it

Hank Thompson

- Hank just loves watching you garden

- He doesn't know a thing about gardening, he doesn't understand how you keep everything alive, but he is so enamored by it all

- I think he likes gifting you random seeds and house plants he thought you'd like

- Okay okay hear me out: Hank would totally love crafting those native wildflower seed bombs that are made out of mud and stuff

- He loves getting messy!! He loves spending time with you and playing with mud!!

- While it's not a traditional way of gardening, I think it could be fun night out if you and Hank went around throwing the seed packed balls into people's lawns and random patches of grass

- Then a couple weeks later, you two can go on a walk and admire your work!!

Jay

- He's so adamant about gardening, he has the greenest thumb out of the bunch

- Jay is sweet he probably has matching sunhats for the both of you

- All of his food comes from his own vegetable garden and he's so so proud of what you both accomplished together

- Even if there's wonky looking and small veggies, it happens sometimes and it doesn't deter Jay

- And if you love planting various flowers and plants? Oh he's just as in love!

- While it may not be your intention, he loves what you're doing for the local pollinators <33

- If you two had your own home I could guarantee that it just looks like a giant greenhouse. House plants everywhere.

Louis Ives

- Oh she admires your hobby so much!!

- She thinks about starting a garden of her own, planting strawberries or keeping a few succulents around all the time

- But honestly she just doesn't have a whole lot of time, so she just sticks to reading a whole bunch around it

- Yeah she's the kind of girl to think too much about flowers and it's meanings and she gives you them to show her love

- Please let her garden with you, teach her the basics of rooting and how to fence off wild animals and insects please she is begging

- Fun dates at the nursery !! Her being amazed at all the different kinds of plants and it's just an afternoon of ooo-ing and awe-ing

- Once she grows something and it blooms/ripens, she's so excited! She's sending you pictures asking if she did it right and immediately wants to gift them to you!

[werecreature-addicted]

people are always like "Oh a vampire wouldn't get horny while drinking someone's blood, that's like getting horny while eating a sandwich" and like man have you never had a really good fucking sandwich?

[bunnis-monsters]

NSFW

Vampire lover that can’t drink your blood without you keeping his cock warm.

He has to be balls deep in your pussy, otherwise he gets all hard and cums in his pants just from one sip of your blood.

It’s just way less messy to already have his cock buried in your cunt, and he doesn’t like to waste his seed. He’s a powerful vampire that needs an heir, that sperm is valuable!!

So every time he needs to feed, he pushes your expensive panties to the side and sits you on his cock, content to cum inside of you.

[whorrorfix]

bitches be like “he’s my comfort character” and it’s just some dude covered in blood

[monster-mash-m]

What if dilf orc has a young child, the bearer of his child unfortunately passed away. Then he sees you. A plump soft human, a bit softer than the usual orc parent, but in his eyes your tenderness would be perfect for his youngling.

He begins to court you immediately. Always brushing past you to subtly scent you, bringing his sweet baby with him to try and sway your choices. Of course the little orc toddler immediately makes your heart melt, the way they waddle over to you curiously, the orc child despite being extremely young was already up to your waist.

If you give into his courting? Be prepared for princess treatment. Being carried everywhere by him as the new parent of his child. Of course you’d naturally gain a lot of muscle from being with him, due to an orcs typical rugged lifestyle and the fact that your new adopted orc toddler likes to be carried and coddled! How could you say no to such a chubby cute face? You’ll be carrying them a lot, and orc babies are HEAVY so yeah, prepare to get swoll.

But to compensate I can definitely see your orc dilf spouse making sure you get more than enough food, after all you’re burning way too many calories carrying his youngling around, and plus he needs to keep you squishy for optimal cuddles.

DILF orc always brings you home gifts from fights or battles, mainly skulls of his enemies (how charming 🥰) or maybe a whole deer, already cut up and prepared for you to cook, he’s very doting.

[yeyinde]

thinking about Simon who just gets out of prison for murder after he's been locked up since he was 18, and starts working at a slaughterhouse for his parole. a big, scary dog who has bloodstains all over him, permanently crusted in the crease of his nails because he prefers field dressing over dragging the carcass inside the shop. who always smells of iron and sweat, and looms over you like he was trying to keep everyone else from looking at you. possessive, but you only know him from rumours and blog posts. his stare, the intense, hungry way he looks at you always gives you the creeps.

he's bad news. and he tries to woo you by feeding you meat from the animals he butchered (getting angry whenever you buy cuts from someone else), and won't go away even when you tell him to leave you alone. you've heard the rumours. read the news articles. nothing about this man is any good—

but he won't, of course. the thing about prison is that you need to hold onto the things that you have and take the stuff that you don't. a sort of cutthroat survival that has raised him better than his own mother. so, when he finds you (something he doesn't have, but wants), it's just in his nature to take.

[ophelieverse]

“i was abed” yeah sure😒

[rockingbytheseaside]

Hi! I wanted to say I absolutely adore your art and headcannons! I wanted to ask if you would be interested in making a headcannon for our lovely harbingers where there is someone trying to sabotage their relationship with the reader like for example the person is saying that the reader is cheating or is saying mean things about the harbingers and that they have ,,proof" it is if course a lie. Don't force yourself to do anything you don't want to tho!

(Absolutely genius idea! Sorry to keep you waiting! I’m a slow writer…)

✦ When others try to sabotage your relationship with them

Pierro, Capitano, Dottore, Scaramouche, Pantalone, Childe

(tw: general mentions of violence and blood. sfw) 

Being intimate with a powerful Fatui Harbinger provides the illusory dream of having riches, power, and status. Some watch you with hushed murmurs as you accompany your beloved with linked arms, looking all elegant beside him. Perhaps some people cannot comprehend how such a ruthless Fatuus can even court someone like you. Others simply cannot comprehend that status and money is not a key factor in your relationship.

✧ To crossfire with Pierro is to go against every single Fatui Harbinger. The Director is known far and wide as a man of cold words and power beyond the seven nations. All valuable intel and actions are reported to him first and foremost, as even the top Harbingers bow before him. You, on the other hand, were not meant to bow before him. The Jester shall never let you lower your head, because it is he who shall stoop to worship you. 

However recently, a certain rumor reached his ears. His spies related to him info that certain Fatui soldiers, some lowly commoners at the bottom of the ranks, are spreading uncouth jabs about you and Pierro. Intel states that these fools think you infiltrated the Fatui and The Director’s inner circle by some intimate provocation and seduction; that you’re in it for the money and status.

Pierro’s gloved hands gripped the papers. Nevertheless, his expression is placid as always. 

Thus, the culprit now sat in Pierro’s office, trembling as the room oozed with murderous silence. The Jester never raised his voice, nor did he question the man who “joked” about you. The fellow kept spitting apologies, begging for mercy. He knew it was futile to lie or waste the Director's patience.

And the Jester? It took everything in his power not to get his gloved hands bloodied. To hear someone accuse you - his most cherished, as a shallow harlot? Consequences shall be faced. Calming his boiling turmoil, Pierro continued to conduct himself professionally:

He made sure the man and his entire generation met their oblivion. 

With the recruitment of his best spies, he ascertained that the culprit’s disappearance was not felt by a single soul, his entire family gone, and all traces of spread rumors eradicated. Above all, it was orchestrated so that you would remain unaware that anyone dared to tarnish your reputation.

You carried on with your life, blissfully unaware and undisturbed. Even now, you came in knocking on his office, asking: “Long day at work, honey? I can bring you some tea or coffee if you want.”

The Jester's smile returned, throwing away some crumbled documents into the trash can - “A tea break would be excellent, my divine.”

If it’s blood that needs to be spilled to protect you and his private affairs, then Pierro won’t think twice. 

✧ For Il Capitano, the way of the blade speaks more for its wielder than words. If you wish to prove your stance, you better be prepared to face the First Fatui Harbinger, as his might will test you in a relentless duel of strength. So what do you think happened when Capitano overheard someone calling you “weak”? That his beloved does not deserve an ounce of his attention, because you are a meek being compared to the Harbinger? 

His hand instantly found its place on the hilt of his claymore. He left no room for negotiation or doubt. He marched straight towards the culprit, unsheathed his weapon, and pointed the sharp point of his blade straight at the person.

“If you are so confident to spit such insolence about them, then you must be equally confident with your strength. Let your blade speak.”

The poor fool tried to defend himself with excuses. But his mocking meant nothing to the Captain’s weapon. Before you know it, there is an ongoing duel initiated by Il Capitano. The witnesses know that whoever is on the receiving end of his wrath has no chance of surviving. Not when a single swing of his weapon causes craters on the ground.

The man was about to collapse, accepting his violent demise. But just as Capitano was about to unleash his final lesson, your voice rang out amongst the crowd.

“Hey! Cease this commotion at once!” - you stepped up, your expression stern as you stood in front of your beloved. In a rare moment of vulnerability, the Captain’s already stoic body language shifted. His claymore was sheathed back to its place.

“My beloved, you shouldn’t have seen this…”

“And yet I did. It would’ve reached my ears anyway. What did I say about temperamental duels, Capitano? Morons are not worth it.” 

“He called you weak. I cannot allow it.”

For a minute, Capitano kept his head hung low in reverence. You stood with your arms on your hips, scolding him. Was it not for your intervention, that person who vocally mocked you would’ve been lying dead now. Instead, you spared the offender, and the man was allowed to flee in humiliation. 

The conflict was eradicated, and Capitano's imposing demeanor showed he didn't regret his actions. Considering how even Capitano bowed to your words, the accuser realized - you are not weak. Because if there was one person who made the First Harbinger go motionless then it was you. 

✧ Today was a good day for Il Dottore, but you weren't sure why. He was a tad clingy, his steps laced with a sense of giddiness. Giving you extra squeezes while hugging, smothering you with longer kisses on the cheek. Even as you sat idly in his lab, you watched him as he worked on some paperwork with a grin.

Thus you questioned him, lazily strolling around his lab and observing the countless tools or vials. But he waved off his excitement, tapping his pencil over some papers - “Nothing of major importance, but I did have something interesting happen recently.”

You raised an eyebrow, beckoning him to continue.

“An idiot made a pathetic attempt at spreading rumors about us.” - You stopped in your tracks, going still as you held some miscellaneous container with what seemed to be tissue samples. The Harbinger continued: “Some fool spoke behind your back; stating that anyone who is close with a heretical scholar is bound to be equally insane. They thought that if their words didn't reach you, then it's of no consequence.”

Your expression fell somber with each word Dottore spoke. He said it with such profound avidity, that his voice demonstrated threatening intent behind them. So he continued. “But you know me, dear. Nothing goes past me. Vile nicknames are nothing new to me. My work is not for the faint of heart, and those pesky cretins enjoy concealing their fear with profane titles. And they can call me whatever they want. However, I won't allow them to call you names. Not because of my work.”

You averted your gaze sadly onto the samples of veins and organs in vials. You pretended to inspect them, but your sorrow was more prominent. You suspected Dottore already did something, hence his unusual giddiness today. Thus, you inquired in a soft whisper - “So… what did you do?”

“I handled it, naturally.”

“...You did? What happened? To the person who said such things, I mean.”

“What happened? Dear, you're holding them in your hands right now.” - Il Dottore beamed, pointing at the vials of organs you held. 

✧ Today, Scaramouche was eerily silent. You were accompanying him during one of his work expeditions, aiding him with certain formalities regarding his Fatui subordinates. The 6th had soldiers working under him, and although he did not care for their training, he did not tolerate any incompetent weaklings.

Therefore, you decided to lend a hand. You helped conduct a training program for his underlings, making sure all standards were met. It’s not the first time you did so, since The Puppeteer often placed you as the second in command whenever he was absent. And the Fatui soldiers did not conceal their thrill - it’s like you were their favorite substitute teacher who was more cheerful and forgiving than their superior.

Either way, Scaramouche saw that the mission was going smoothly. But soon, lightning would strike. A certain Fatuus, an agent in training, was getting too charmful with you. It was during the usual training assigned by you, and this person was focusing more on his conversation with you than his training:

Telling you how you are a remarkably skilled person. How it’s a marvel to see someone so delightful as you working alongside the Balladeer. How you shouldn’t waste your time with someone as aggravating as Lord Harbinger Scaramouche. He’s even leaning closer towards you.

You smiled uncomfortably, your attempts at polite disagreement did not work with this agent. Yet now you felt the static in the air, and that’s when you realized - Your beloved heard all of it.

On this usual, unassuming morning, Scaramouche walked silently and struck a man with lightning. All eyes turned towards the commotion as you stood behind the Harbinger. His fists were clenched, sparks of electro crackling from them.

He may have been silent the whole day, but don’t mistake his silence for impassivity.

“Next time, know your place,” - he seethed, standing over the person who endeavored to sweet talk you. He permitted his subordinates too much leeway, now they dare charm you with empty flirts. Scaramouche would’ve stomped that man’s head if he wanted, but he wouldn’t create such a grotesque scene in your presence. Instead, he turned away, held your hand, and pulled you away.

He gave you a day off, his mind already conjuring plans to deal with his underlings later. At least he scoffed out an apology. Not for what he did; he does not lament that. Just a small ‘sorry’ for giving you a quick fright. The lightning strike was very loud, after all. 

✧ Pantalone often gets invited to luxurious meetings or extravagant galas. Any party that is attended by the richest man in Teyvat is a guarantee to make high-society elites turn heads. However, considering your prolonged relationship with your darling Pantalone, you know he secretly despises these social gatherings. Therefore, he takes you with him. Dressed in your finest, Pantalone proudly shows you off to the pompous aristocrats.

People would watch enviously, thinking to themselves: The Regrator’s sweetheart, spoiled by his riches. Your attire is as glorious as his expensive suit. His arm is tenderly linked with yours, always offering you his hand like a true gentleman whenever you two walk. Even as he conversed with various business partners, he always had to make sure his hand was around your waist or your hand.

This dotting behavior made certain ladies of Snezhnaya jealous. They could see you were not a noble-born, nor were you used to the attention during such gatherings. You just timidly accompanied him, and Pantalone kept rambling about you and your benign achievements. Childish, really. You’re probably someone who just ran after and clung to the Harbinger until he relented to keep you. Therefore, a group of ladies initiated the conversation: 

“It’s a pleasure to meet a man such as yourself, Lord Harbinger.” and “Why, a man of your status is probably seeking some interesting company. Oh? You are with someone? My, my, I did not notice them.” or “Surely you desire connections worthy of your status, sir.”

Pantalone had mastered the art of courteous smiling, yet even his act was about to crack. He noticed the way these ladies tried to stand too close to him, pretend you were not in the picture, or even passively mock you. Their insolence stenches, and noticing your silent discomfort caused his heart to sting. But he had a plan.

“Why yes, you are right,” - Pantalone smiled with his charming looks “I do value my time, and it’s important to not waste it on shallow conversationalists. Oh, but it’s such a shame that the people in front of us are just that. Isn’t that right, sweetheart?”

Pantalone turned to you, his arms encircling your waist while speaking such backhanded comments with triumphant smiles. The ladies’ smiles fell instantly, and you tried everything to avert your gaze. “Um, Pantalone? Maybe we shouldn’t-”

“Shouldn’t bore ourselves with such lowly individuals? Hmm, I agree. There isn’t much to do here anyway, only the greedy will seek something in this superficial gathering. Oh well, let’s go so I can take you to dance, dear.” - Pantalone concluded in his usual enamoring tone “Ladies, if you would excuse yourself.”

In this world, the 9th of the Fatui Harbinger doesn’t excuse himself - others do. Therefore, he took you away, scoffing and checking up on you with hushed whispers. Pantalone was offended. Why do they assume it was you who desperately sought out the rich Harbinger? Little do they know it was Pantalone who used to run and seek your attention just to be yours. Honestly, they’re discrediting his neediness for you. 

✧ Should anyone meddle with Tartaglia’s personal life, they are picking up a brawl. Someone dares to flirt with you? His fists are ready. Someone said something unwelcoming about you? Anything in the vicinity can be used as a weapon. Someone endangers his relationship? Their life is now in danger.

Of course, you’re the one who consistently yanked him out of these fights. Usually, it’s nothing serious, as when you scold your boyfriend for such reckless behavior it ends with his heartfelt words and apologetic chuckles. He finds solace in embracing you from behind, gently enfolding his arms around your shoulders, reassuring himself that all is well.

However, Tartagia is still a Harbinger. Away from home, he’d personally search for intel on the culprit who dares to offend your relationship. Names, records, locations, anything to keep tabs on those who think they can drag his family into bloodshedding matters. Tracking is of no issue, after all, when he was still a young rookie, training as a Fatui agent was just the first step.

Once he determines the offender, he’ll pay a discreet visit to them. And this time, without you dragging him away from fights, there is no place for mercy or jests.

At night, Childe returned home, cheerful as the sight of you getting ready for bed welcomes him. Yet in the dim lights, you’d gasp and approach him with concern, catching traces of smeared blood on his face or hands.

Ajax would just smile; he didn’t need to explain. Instead, he would quietly approach you from behind and envelop his arms around your shoulders in quiet stillness.

[screampied]

Small itty bitty req 😽😽😽 Vampire! Gojo who cums just from drinking her blood..? 🤕🤕🤕😸

vamp gojo getting a taste for the first time ★

◜ ❦◞ — warnings. fem! reader, vampire au / gojo, mentions of blōod, touch starved gojo, spıt, cowgirl, praise, premature ejaculatıon, biting, mdni.

you were one of his many weaknesses—disregarding the plethora of other vampire known things such as sunlight, garlic, or even stakes. you and your taste alone was enough to bring him to his knees. gojo’s entire body feels scorchingly hot the moment you cream down his cock. he’s still twitching from the inside, gentle honed claws piercing into your skin. “p- please,” he’d pant, pointed tips of his ears burning more and more tepid. a lukewarm breeze sets against his skin before he conceals his face into your neck. “m- my precious little . . human,” and you moan the moment his long, forked tongue licks a stripe near your neck. “i want more of you. please.”

there was a bit of a tremor in his voice - shaky. the more stripes he licked up your neck, the more he became addicted. the vampire’s cock was embed into you, feeling the sheer snug and warmth near the inside before his eyes roll back. with irregular breaths yanking from his lungs, he looks at you, a gentle nail scraping near your neck before he pouts. “can .. can i?”

he wants a taste,

as you’re taking your seat on his lap, it didn’t take you long to realize what he meant. gojo wanted to feed off of you. two broad hands of his grab onto your waist, pulling you close. body against body, skin against skin—your warmth was the only thing that made him pulse.

funnily enough, it’s known vampires don’t even have a pulsing heart, and yet you made him feel alive. it’s ironic.

his dick was still plugged into your gripping, gluey walls before you give him a sweet reply. “go ‘head toru, baby. get a taste.”

your voice,

it was such a treat to listen to, almost harmonic.

the way you spoke in such a pretty tune was enough to have him dump another load into you. and then another, then another.

the vampire lets off a needy moan at your answer, not hesitating to incise his chiseled, sharp fangs into the crook of your neck.

“mhm,” he whines, and you feel a bit of slippery saliva trickle its way near the edge of your neck. you were so tasty that it was enough to make him drool. as gojo licks it up, you hear a long sluuuurp and he’s making sure to savor your metallic taste. to him, you taste like candy.

and already,

he’s addicted. his tongue whisks itself against the growing bite marks and he whines again. pretty frosted lashes of his flutter as he’s relishing in your flavor. needless to say, you were simply drool worthy. “my s- sweet girl, hah, taste even better than i imagined.”

you stay still, remaining to sit on his lap. the base of his cock squishes down a bit the more your ass grinds against the weight. he groans, and the body heat that’s sticking against the two of you grows more heated. as he’s feeding, you can hear a little growl escape from his lips once you playfully try to move away. “mine, s- stay,” he grumbles, making sure to not suck away too much blood. the vampire was well aware of the precautions and didn’t wanna leave you too weak or lightheaded, regardless of how sweet you tasted. “hngh, ‘s good. ‘m gonna c- cum i think.”

“s- satoruuu,” you breathe, taking a moment to swallow and the only thing you ended of gulping down was your sweet, sweet pity.

you felt your cunt start to spasm sporadically, one hand gently wrapping around his throat as he’s collecting more of a taste. “thaaaat’s it, ‘s good. good boy, suck harder baby.”

a snowy wisp of a strand runs down his forehead before he pouts — pointed ears twitching at your praise.

good boy . .

a whine rips from his throat again, and already he can feel himself starting to thrust against you. sloppy thrusts but you still felt every inch rut its way into you. he was so eager, so feral. he couldn’t help it, if you kept teasing him this much he was going to stuff you full.

again, and again, and again.

“oh, you like when i call you that?” you peer up at the vampire, watching as he momentarily breaks away his lips from your neck. a cute fang of his pokes out underneath his bottom lip and there’s metaphoric heart eyes shimmering in his blown irises.

“y- yes,” he nods, a slight crack in his tone as you’re still happily straddling him. gojo’s face flushes deeply and a sharp gasp shortly follows. “ngh, say it again, please.”

leaning in to kiss the tip of his nose, his eyes ultimately widen into the size of saucers. “good boy, ‘toru.”

“f- fuck, woman,” he snarls under his breath, your touch alone able enough to harm him more than pungent garlic ever could.

gojo can’t help but crane your neck slightly to the right again with one hand. he moves it back to it’s original position before sinking his fangs into your neck again. once more, he feels the prodigious tang of saltiness coat against his forbidden buds that run against his tongue. you moan, tossing your head back in pleasure before feeling him starting to sniff you.

as if your taste wasn’t enough - your scent was just brutal.

you giggle at bit at the sensation of him getting off to your naturally sweet aroma. his dick was growing more aroused. its twitching multiplies and you feel every movement from the inside of your stingy walls. gojo’s whining gets louder, and before he knew it, the crown of his cock starts to vigorously thrash and thrash against your cunt. your walls were being greedy, you were barely even moving and yet, your gummy walls continue to hug him tight, never letting go.

because in the end, you didn’t wanna let go,

not now, not ever.

“c- cum, ‘m gonna cum,” he huffs, soft warm lips ghosting against the new bite marks that tattoo against your skin. he stares at his gift to you with the most lewd expression, eyes half lidded and all. feeling himself get more sheepish as each second passed, he whimpers. “i- oh, really gonna make me—”

and it’s a long pause.

it’s almost too long, radio silence and yet it was deadly. right before you could utter out a word, you feel a spurt of hotness ooze its way into your pussy. it’s slow and it’s slimy, coming out in thin velvety ropes. so much to where you feel it shoot into the very depths of your womb. gojo’s a mess, his whimpers reaching higher pitched volumes before he buries his face into your neck again.

shame overtook him—sharp nails of his gently graze against your hips as he’s holding you close, a milky ring around his base shortly painting around his fat base.

whenever he came, it was a lot. piles and piles of it, you weren’t even moving a muscle and you had him this weak. the finish came to him like a truck at full force, it was a constant ringing in his ears.

your hips buck and he grows quiet— his favorite part, listening to the final finishes. ripples of rapture overtake his body as he’s pouring his all into you, and he takes a moment to suck against your neck once more. your cunt squelched and his seed made sounds similar of its own. you mewl out a sweet sob, feeling his tongue flick against the few remnants of blood that were left near your neck before he sighs deeply.

not only was he pussy drunk but he was perhaps he was in love.

“i- i—” he murmurs, still having his face buried deep into your collarbone. gojo didn’t want you to move, he wanted you to stay. “more.”

“more what, ‘toru?” you whisper, still feeling him dump such a heavy amount of cum into you as if it was nothing. it was sticky, gluing against the entrance of your pussy as if it was some kind of adhesive. it was a mess— you were filled, a few strings of cum gluing against your opening, you feel the warmth coat against the outside and the inside. you gingerly pull his head up to look at you and the vampire leans into your gentle, familiar touch. “mm?”

“more of you,” he grumbles, and you let off a gasp once he makes you lie back, spreading your legs.

the vampire strums a soft padded thumb against your pulsating clit that had wads of cum spilling out in nice clumps before he leans down. gojo groans, lapping his own flavor up with his tongue before flickering his pretty cerulean eyes back up at you. giving your pussy a kiss, crooked sly smile forming on his reddened glossed lips. “not done, wanna bite her next.”

and you gulp, chest heaving in and out— you leer down at gojo and realize he was staring straight at your sopping wet cunt.

[lxnarphase]

dog hybrid!f. toji who likes to lick you.

f. toji who can't go a single day without licking you, whether on your hand, your arm, your face, or your neck. he just needs to, he doesn't no why, but his instincts are constantly screaming at him to mark you with his tongue.

sure, biting is fun, but he just needs to run his tongue all over you. you may not think he's being honest, but he swears up and down that you taste so fucking good, the taste of your skin his favorite. fuck, he's gotta try to hard not to sink his teeth into you...or else he'll be lapping at your thigh all day.

however...dog hybrid!f. toji who likes to lick you, his sweet loving caretaker who has the most sensitive neck ever.

he's got you in his lap, ears flicking and his tail thumping against the bed as he nuzzles into your neck, scenting you. he's feeling extra possessive today, it seems, grumbling against your skin.

"mine, my girl..." "don' talk to any guys t'day or i'll rip 'em apart." "gotta smell like me, ok? don' let my smell go away."

but then toji's thick tongue sticks out his mouth and he drags it against your neck, his breath hot on your skin. you shiver and he's hooked, loving these reactions your giving him. his arms around your waist keep you from moving away.

it's wet and sticky, his saliva making your skin glisten. the sounds your making are so pretty, his tail thumping louder against the bed as he keeps you from hiding your neck away from him, pushing his face into your neck.

you whine that it's sensitive, that somethings wrong, that your stomach is feeling to hot, that you feel like you're going to pop, and before you know it, his slobbering all over your neck, sucking on it, grazing his teeth over the skin. "gonna cum? g'nna cum just from me lickin' your neck t' make sure y' taste nice 'n' sweet f' me?"

it's okay that you don't answer, he doesn't mind, but he just tightens his hold on you, slobbering and drooling all over your skin, savoring the pretty moans and choked whines he's getting from you. so when you curl in on yourself, choking out his name, he's growling, sinking his teeth into your neck to get a little taste of your blood, knowing it always tastes so much sweeter when you cum.

[bi-writes]

can't stop thinking about dark!simon with a sunshine!curvy!fem!reader, it's gnawing at my brain. (18+)

greeting him when he comes home in a little apron with dough smeared across your cheeks. you're bouncing in the kitchen, giggling as you wrap your arms around his neck. one burly arm hooks around your waist as he palms one side of your ass, and you kiss his lips over his blood-soaked mask again and again as you coo, "missed you so much, made you chocolate chip..."

you talk and talk and talk and talk. you're always talking. you're always whispering in his ear and chattering as he drives and telling him some story about something he missed while he was gone as you tidy up the flat. you never stop talking, never run out of things to tell him, and despite the monotone voice and the lack of response, he hears every single word that you say, and he forgets nothing. when he makes his way back on base, johnny is waiting, eager to hear an update about the receptionist at your work and if she is actually sleeping with your manager.

you wash his clothes without even blinking. you're at the sink, a bucket of cold, suddy water there as you scrub at his shirt. there's peroxide at the side, and you use a delicate hand as you scrub at the stains on it. ghost watches from the doorway as you hum to yourself, in a little pair of shorts with your hair tied up as you rinse the shirt clean. blood runs down the drain, and his shirt is clean as new.

you always find some kind of weapon around the house. you bend down to brush crumbs off the kitchen chairs, and you scold simon with a glossy pout because he left a bloody knife taped under the table. you whine when you find a grenade sitting in the same drawer you keep your tampons in. you complain when you take out the jar of rice to make dinner, and there's a small handgun hidden between the grains. but your face always softens when he cups your cheeks with two big hands, kissing you warmly, muttering, "gotta keep y'safe, luvvie...know there's a bloody line waitin' for a taste of y'r cunny, baby."

you visit him on base once in light wash denim and a white tshirt, sneakers hitting the linoleum and purse swinging as you wave at him. he's standing in front of a line of privates, watching them do jumping jacks, and his eyes light up a little when he sees you waving at him enthusiastically. when he finally makes it to you, he shoves you into the nearest supply closet and tugs your jeans down just enough to fit his cock between your thighs. when he's walking you out, the boys watch as you cling to simon's arm, a lovesick grin on your sweaty face as you flutter your lashes up at him.

he loves when your manicured hands touch him. scratching along his scalp, tracing the edge of his jaw, cupping the bulge in his pants. you're so sweet, the most giggly girl, and he loves tasting the strawberry of your gloss as you make him cum with your hand, cooing against his lips about how strong he is, how much you love him, how you would do anything for him.

he loves it most when you see him for what he really is. when he comes home battered and bruised, bloody clothes sticking to him, a snarl to his voice and the adrenaline of an op still pumping through his veins. he loves that nothing about him scares you. that even like this, you lean up on your toes and kiss him softly, that you get some of the blood and dirt smudges on the pink of your pajama pants, and you don't care, that he strangled a man with these very hands only hours ago, and you still want him to touch you.

he loves that you love him. that when he feeds his cock into you that night, in nothing but your baby pink lingerie, that you barely need any prep at all from how wet you are. thick thighs spreading apart, sticky slick shining on your skin, cunt nice and ready for him because you have missed him that much. he loves that no matter how ugly he feels, you always find him attractive, that no matter how many people he tells you that he killed tonight, all you do is smile and pucker your lips, and tell him, "it's okay, teddy bear, they deserved it, didn't they?" and yeah, they did, cause it is kill or be killed, and there is no universe where ghost does not fight to get back here, to get back to this pretty pussy, to get back to the bed he shares with you so he can watch those pretty tits bounce every time he fucks his cock into you.

ghost loves his pretty girl. all smiles. all soft, so cute, just perfect. ghost casts a shadow over the room, and you just brighten it right back up. ghost tracks blood into the house, and there you are to cover it all up with citrus and soap.

yeah. always just sunshine and smiles at home.

[d-a-n-n-y-y]

Seen some of these types of francis fanarts where he killed those D.D.D guys so i thought i make one myself🔥/hj

(edit: original😭)

[nareclipwse]

He's so tall and handsome as hell

He's so bad, but he does it so well (...)

[bunnis-monsters]

NSFW

You certainly love your poor himbo!vampire lover, but he’s definitely not the sharpest tool in the shed.

Like all vampires, his saliva has healing properties so his victims don’t bleed out during his feedings. Because of this, he’s taken to freaking out when you get injured and immediately licking the wound, planting a soft kiss on it after.

He smells your blood, and he gets nervous. The man adores you, he’d be lost if you died!

So when you woke up to the soft ache in your cunt being combated by the pleasure of your boyfriend sucking on your clit, you were quite confused.

As you rubbed your sleepy eyes, you heard your boyfriend choking on his sobs, tears rolling down his pale cheeks as his hands held onto your thighs.

“Y-you’re gonna be okay, angel. Going to… going to make it better…” he blubbered, your blood dripping down his chin before he moved back to your aching cunt.

“Love…”

He sniffled as you reached out a hand to cup his cheek, gently swiping your blood from his lip. “I’m not injured, I’m just on my period.”

Your lover blinked, his eyes going wide, and you could tell if he could blush his cheeks would be a bright red with embarrassment.

“O-oh…”

As he pulled away, you grabbed him by the hair and guided his lips back to your pussy. “But you’re still helping, sweet thing.”

His eyes softened and he settled back down between your thighs, his cheek resting against your belly as he softly nuzzled against it. “Then I’ll take care of you… I’ll always take care of you, my angel…”

So you sat back and relaxed as he fed, making sure to gently push you over the edge and ease your pain.

[sukunasteeth]

Stitches

Sukuna has never made you wait for him.

He was always on time, always there before you, and if circumstances arose where-in he couldn't be, you always knew an hour before. You were never left to wonder or worry.

If Sukuna says he'll be there, he's there.

So when you wake up to his cold and empty bed, after hours of waiting for him to return home from work, you want to assume the best case scenario.

He's just working late, you assure yourself when your eyes find the clock on the nightstand and it tells you that it's two o'clock in the morning. Maybe he was so entranced in whatever he was tending to that he had forgotten to call you and tell you he'd be late. It had never happened before, but there was a first time for everything.

You try not to trip over your own two feet on your way to the bathroom, ignoring the dread that immediately darkens your thoughts upon checking your phone for the hundredth time that night.  

No call. No text... Did he tell you in person earlier in the day and you had simply forgotten?

What if he's hurt?

You round the corner of the hallway.

What if he's in trouble?

You're so lost in your thoughts that you don't even register seeing the bathroom light peeking out from under the door.

You push it open.

What if he's-

Standing over the sink, dripping in blood, and using a fishing line to sew up an enormous gash splitting into his side?

You're frozen in the doorway. 

Faced with the unfortunate answer to the questions that had been progressively plaguing you the entirety of the night. Shock grips your throat and has a cold sweat breaking out over your skin.

You haven't seen him so roughed up since the two of you were in high school. Sukuna, always hungry for a test of strength, had often walked you home with a bloody nose or a ripped open pair of knuckles, but this would be the first time you've seen him look like he just rolled out of a fight club ring. 

He's taken off his suit jacket and his usually pristine white button down has been torn to shreds. The pieces that are left of it have adhered to the deepest of his wounds, soaked in crimson. He's holding up the hem of his shirt with his teeth, glaring down at a particularly large slice in his torso as he feeds a needle into the skin and puts himself back together again. One of his eyes is swollen and there's a small cut to the side of it. You can tell that he'll have a black eye come morning. Sukuna must see you in the corner of it, because he suddenly turns to look at you. The edge of his shirt falls out of his mouth, but Sukuna doesn't seem to notice, too surprised by your presence.

The two of you take each other in. Silently appraising the situation.

Before you can react, his surprise is already morphing into a resigned, disappointed sigh.

"Aw shit."

"What the HELL?!" You don't recognize the voice that escapes you in your panic. Raspy from the sleep still coating your throat, disjointed as your tonsils remember themselves and yet forget how to operate in your shock. You're across the room in a flash, nearly tripping headfirst into him in your haste. "What happened?! Y-You're hurt. Why are you hurt? Jesus, that looks so bad- oh my god. 'Kuna-"

"Shhh," He's hushing you. You're close enough for him to reach out with his free hand and pull you even closer, he doesn't seem to notice the streak of fresh blood he leaves behind on your wrist. "It's not as bad as it looks."

"You're covered in blood!" You whisper in horror, you search his eyes for even an ounce of alarm, and find only his usual nonchalance lounging there. As though this was nothing out of the ordinary.

He even looks down at himself like he wants to refute you, but when he picks up the collar of his shirt, finding the shredded pieces of what remained of it, he seems to think better. 

"Little bastards didn't do half bad, actually." He mutters to himself. He almost sounds... impressed. "Any deeper and it could have really been a pain in my ass."

"What happened?" You ask again, desperate.

"Just some kids waiting outside of the office." He rubs at the back of his head, and you notice another small cut there over a raised bump that seems to be swelling at the base of his skull. It must be tender, because he grimaces when he grazes it. You do too, just from watching him. "Trying to make some pocket money off of me and Uraume. They should have at least waited until we were both alone." When he pulls his hand away from his head, there's fresh blood glistening on his fingertips. He sucks his teeth. "Amateurs."

You take a deep, steadying breath- willing your heartbeat to slow.

You were the one who decided to fall for a man constantly looking for a good fight. At this point, you had only yourself to be disappointed with.

Without another word you turn your back to him and head straight for the shower. You needed him to wash off. You wouldn't be able to tell which parts of him needed attention in the mess that was currently coating his skin and you were already preparing mentally to tend to him. You spin the dial to ‘hot’ and turn back to him, trying your best to glare. You didn't think it was working very well. Especially because he's smiling softly at you.

"Get in." You command, pointing to the tub.

Sukuna scoffs softly, turning back to his needle and fishing line.

"It's fine.” He brushes you off. “I'm just going to rinse the cuts as I go-"

"Sukuna." You don't mean for it to come out as demanding as it does. Sukuna was hurt. You wanted to be gentle with him, but you can't help how overwhelmed you are at the sight of him battered to such a degree.

He slowly lifts his head like he was giving you time to think about the way you had just spoken to him before he meets your eyes again. You're too roused to take it back. "Get. In."

You can tell in his momentary silence that he doesn't recognize this shade of frustration on you. He's watching you like he's trying to take in every detail of it. Engrave it into his brain. Part of you is reminded in that moment that it wasn't Sukuna's anger you were in risk of pushing, but rather his excitement.

He folds up the fishing line and loops it around the sewing needle, placing it onto the counter without turning to look at it.

Your unrelenting stance falters a bit as he crosses the room after you, unbuttoning his dress shirt as he goes. His eyes never leave yours, testing your will.

When he makes it to you, he's brimming with pride. His belt clinks when he unloops the first notch. 

"Yes ma'am." He purrs.

...

An hour later, he's as clean as he can be and sitting on the closed lid of the toilet seat. You're perched in his lap, having already finished stitching shut the larger wounds that needed it. Now you're down to the last small cut left, which is on his cheek. It didn't require much attention, it was a tiny graze compared to the rest of the gashes you had tended to.

You can feel Sukuna watching you with a smitten little smile, like you had just spent the past hour silently telling him how much you adored him with your gentle but stern touches.

It ticks you off.

"Stop looking at me like that." You mutter, pressing the last of the steri-strips against his skin.

He doesn't even pretend to stop. You refuse to meet his gaze as you do a final examination of your handiwork. Finally, with him properly patched up and without a single drop of fresh blood in sight, the pain in your heart eases. He was okay. 

"...Why didn't you have Uraume help you with this before you came home?" You pretend to reassess one of the gauze strips on his bicep, but it's really just an excuse to nervously pick at the cotton while you're underneath his gaze.

There were plenty of people at the office who knew how to deal with wounds to this severity, professional medics that could have sewed him up twice as fast and sent him home just as clean as when he had arrived. So why did he wait so long for help?

Sukuna hums and his bandaged knuckles glide up and down the outsides of your thighs. "Maybe I like watching you play nurse."

"Kuna~" You groan hopelessly, letting your head thunk against his shoulder. "Quit teasing. I'm mad at you." You announce.

It only serves to widen his grin, which you can feel pressed against your hair as he kisses your forehead.

"But you're so cute when you want to be mad at me." He mocks your tone of voice and chuckles when you press your thumb into the bandage on his bicep in an attempt to punish him-just a bit.

Quickly, he snatches your hand, locking the both of your fingers together and gently nudging your head with his own. Silently asking you to look up again.

You're trying your best to pout at him, but you're surprised to see softness where you expected to find mischief in his expression. There's a warm fondness to his gaze. One you usually only see him wear when he's watching you talk about something you're particularly passionate about.

"I'm sorry I made you worry." The genuineness of the statement softens the hard lines of your face. And just like that, you completely forget that you’re supposed to be mad at him. His fingers trace the space between your brows where he had just made an angry knot disappear. "I do hate it when I do that."

Maybe it was a tactic to get off the hook. But it was a good one. It even has you feeling guilty for being hard on him. 

"I don't like seeing you covered in blood." You whisper, finally meeting his eyes. The glimmer there is triumphant.

"I'll hose off out front next time, how's that?"

You bite back a laugh at the image, trying to keep your stern disposition. You lean in, so as to impart the severity of your tone. "No next time."

Sukuna leans in closer, "And I'll have to get you a nurse's outfit."

"No next time!"

You were in love with the epitome of mischief. There was always going to be a next time.

[whorrorfix]

idk something about ghostface saying “you feel so much more tighter when you’re scared.” while fucking into you, knife held to your throat, the rush of adrenaline making everything feel so good.

him telling you that no one else can fuck you like he does, that if anyone ever touches you he wouldn’t hesitate to gut them.

the possessiveness in his voice making you clench around his cock as you feel yourself getting even more wet. him grazing the knife ever so slightly against your skin, saying “that’s it, baby, you’re taking me so good.” making you a whimpering mess as he fucking destroys you. “look at you. getting all wet. you love this shit, don’t you? such a pathetic slut.”