#you know it was a rough day when every vice comes back to bite you with an offer of fake tranquility | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

messenger-of-babel · 1 month ago

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To Lose a Dream

Summary: Leon would make any amount of wishes to make his dreams come true, but the events of Racoon change your lives forever. (Leon S. Kennedy x reader)

Word Count: 3.3K

Notes: ✨ Second Leon done! ✨ I feel it's a little rough only cause my eyes are so tired. This was a chunky piece to write so please keep that in mind haha. Roughly a third through this challenge, I don't know what I'll do with myself not writing for you all every day haha, it's honestly been such a fun month. I feel like I haven't kept some of the past themes well/ I made them vague and mentioned them in like one line, but I hope this one is clearer! Back to some DC ones in the next few days. Enjoy~! xx

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You didn’t know what to expect, coming alongside Leon.

Worry ate at your bones, staring out the window of the car as you hurtle towards Raccoon City. The rain batters at the windows, tracing patterns on the glass as you try to make out any shapes in the darkness. A hand on your thigh snaps you out of your stressed sighing, catching sight of Leon. He's got his eyes still trained on the road, the rain hard and heavy.

"He's going to be fine. I promise."

Leon does his best to soothe you, but the vice grip around your heart still doesn’t let up. You put your hand over his, curling your fingers around his larger digits. "I don't know." you say, voice tinged with fear. He squeezes your hand back weakly, the little comfort that he can provide right now.

"I'm sure it's nothing serious. Your brother hasn't answered a few calls? maybe he's just busy." Leon tries to say, keeping his tone light-hearted. "Either way, I'm sure he will be happy to see you. How long has it been since you talked?"

"He didn't call to wish me a happy birthday." you murmur, head leaning against the window. "We talked just last week."

Leon shrugged. "Maybe he just got busy?" he tries to delicately put.

"He doesn’t just miss those calls. He always makes sure that he calls. Something just feels wrong, I know it." you whisper, fist clenching in your lap. "Not to mention your work called you and told you not to come in. All my friends in raccoon aren't picking up either. I can't manage to get onto the Raccoon City news channel. Doesn't that worry you at least a little?" you stress, voice rising.

He waves his hand gently, trying to get you to lower your voice. "I understand, I do. But let's go into the city before anything happens, okay? It'll only hurt you more running through ‘what if’ scenarios before we even get there. We just need to hold it together a little longer, okay?"

You sigh in defeat and turn away, making Leon bite his lip and focus on the road once more.

He hated fighting with you, hated seeing you upset. He couldn't help the way his heart sank when your turn away from him, and he can't stop the voice in his head telling him that it was his fault. Even if you told him otherwise, he ached seeing you so stressed. You had come to him crying that night worried that your brother hadn't called you like he did annually, more so when the phone wouldn’t even connect to his when you tried to return it. Seeing you so distressed he let you come with him to Racoon City, knowing he was heading in for his first scheduled day. He just wanted to alleviate your worry and anxiety, but now Leon was starting to feel like he had just made it worse by bringing you along. You kept talking about the feeling in your gut, the cold that seeped to freeze your heart over with fear.

He kept brushing it off, doing his best to assure you that everything was okay, but as he pulled up to the outskirts of Raccoon City, he knew he should have believed you.

He should have turned the car around when he saw the smoke, when he saw the fire flickering off the windows. Should have listened to you halfway down the highway the first time you said you felt anxious and taken you both home. Then you both would have been safe, anxious and worried, but safe, nonetheless. Instead, he drives forward, eyes widening in the carnage as you roll to a stop. Cars and buildings are on fire, debris and shattered glass scattered over the road.

"I think we should-" he tries to say around the lump in his throat, but the sound of a car door slamming breaks his thought. His eyes widen with fear, blood cooling as he sees you through the windscreen glass, running down the street.

He jumps into action like he's been shocked, running from the driver’s seat and unbuckling himself like he was branded. "Hey!" he calls out, voice stern but terrified. He pushes his legs to catch up with you, lungs burning when he finally does. "Do not run off on me, you understand?" he yells, spinning you around to face him. You turn, studying him. Panic is etched onto every line of his face, pupils shifting rapidly as he checks you over. "This isn't safe, we need to think. It's not safe for you."

"But it's safe for you?" you snap back, making him falter. "I'm not leaving till I find my brother. He might be trapped here, with no one to help. I have to know what's happening." tears burn at your lashes and your hands wipe them away. His heart shatters and he pulls you in for a tight hug, like the both of you aren't standing in the middle of a crater ridden road. "it's gonna be okay, I promise." he whispers into your hair.

He wished upon every star and every cell in his body that he could rewind time so that you never found your brother.

Very quickly the both of you realised that something awful had happened to the city, when the first resident came ambling after you and nearly took a chunk out of Leon's arm. Now both of you were sneaking into around your brother’s neighbourhood, armed with only some wooden planks you ripped from a boarded-up store.

You were adamant that you were going to find your brother, and you resisted every time that Leon tried to bring you back to the car and away from all of this. When you finally saw the figure of your older sibling, you thought you were about to collapse in relief. With a sigh and grateful tears springing to your eyes, you called his name, wood weapon dropping from your hands.

You couldn't hear Leon's screams for you to get back over the thudding of your feet on the broken-up road, eyes too blurred with tears to see the way that your brother walked with a limp. When you threw yourself on him you squeezed your eyes shut, about to sob in happiness. However, when you felt him turn to embrace you back, a blooming pain ran through your shoulder.

With a shriek your eyes fly open and you try to push him off, ears rushing with the sound of blood and Leon's shouting. You look into the face of your brother, his visage more flesh than skin. His skin was puckered and eyes a milky white, hair patchy and skin blood drained.

He was gone.

"Get off!" Leon hollers from behind you, swinging the plank directly into your brothers- no, the zombie's face, and sending it staggering backwards. He catches you as you stumble back, pulling your flush against his chest. Your hands fly up to try and staunch the sticky flow of blood, shock beginning to settle in.

"Hey, hey, look at me." he commands, eyes darting between you and the corpse struggling to get up from the ground. "We need to get going, can you do that for me?"

You look back, breath hitching as you see what remained of your brother. You remembered his smile, his hugs. The way he lifted you up when you were little and swung you around the room while you pretended to be a superhero. Now all that remained was a blood hungry pile of flesh and bone, filled with a dark malice.

"Sweetheart, you need to focus."

Leon's tense voice cuts through the fog in your mind, his hand coming to press down hard over yours on the wound. You manage a shaky breath and a brief nod of your head, an action that make you wince as your shoulder burns violently.

"Okay, okay, let's get you somewhere safe." he murmurs mostly to himself, an arm coming around you to keep you close to his side. His heartbeat races with worry, scanning his brain for anything. This wasn't his city; he hadn't even visited before tonight. You provided the directions up until now, but with the ragged way you were breathing, you weren't really in the position to help him. in the distance, his peripheral vision strikes a hit.

The sign of the RPD burns itself into his vision, and he quickly reroutes his steps to hurry there.

"Hold on, just a little longer." he says quietly down to you, anxiety peaking as he watches as you half stumble over your own feet.

He wished on the moon and the sky that he had never brought you to the Raccoon City Police Department.

Within, you had both found yourselves befriending an officer named Marvin, who was injured similarly to you. Leon had gotten chewed out pretty badly for showing up regardless of the call that told him not to, something Leon defended in the way you know only Leon could. You were resting on a spare stretcher next to Marvin, bite patched up weakly with some bandages that were already damp with red.

Despite the situation, you couldn't help the smile that flitted over your face when Leon came back into the room, dressed in the RPD uniform.

"Don't you look handsome." you say softly, making him chuckle. He comes to lean down by your side, giving you a quick peck on the lips. "I'm starting to think that you just like a guy in uniform." he teases, a light blush dusting the bridge of his nose.

"Could you blame me?" you tease back, and he shakes his head with a light scoff. He helps you sit up, and you swing your feet to touch the marble floor of the RPD lobby. You wished you could remember the sparkle in those bright blue eyes, before Marvin made him go to the office to fetch something. You followed after him softly, despite your boyfriend's insistence that you stay back to rest.

"It's not that far." you say softly, pointing in the direction. "Just that room, okay?"

He had looked to Marvin, but the older officer looked away and held his hands up, muttering something about not getting involved.

That's why you were here now, watching him forlornly as he gingerly traches his fingers along the wood that was going to be his desk. His back rounds as he leans on the desk, blonde hair flopping pathetically as he tries to hold himself together.

'W E L C O M E L E O N ' hangs above the desk in yellow and blue, decorated just for him. You watch just behind him on the small stairs overlooking the area, letting him have the moment to himself. He sinks lower so he can sit in the chair, staring up at the decorations with his hands in his lap. You can imagine him here during the day, the hustle and bustle of the office around him. You imagine his coworkers flitting around him, giving him smiles and maybe even ruffling his hair. You can picture his wide smile, your favourite one, stretching across his face as the older officers give him shit for being a rookie.

The memory glows like a warm sun, a golden hope that flickered between the both of you. The ideals that he whispered to you when you went to bed, his tone soft and giddy even though he tried to control it. His hopes, dreams and plans for the future he told you with a soft smile, eyes hazy as he let himself daydream before drifting off to sleep next to you.

Your hands clench on the banister, heart aching. The first day he never got to have, but the first day that he had dreamed of ever since he graduated the police academy.

The first day that he deserved.

You watch your boyfriend take a deep breath, and the golden 'what if' that played around him like a movie faded away until it was just you two back in that cold, dark, room. You go to call out to him, but you voice wavers like there’s a block in it. You only make a half-gurgled sound, eyes rolling into your head as the world spins.

As soon as he hears you hit the ground behind him, he's up and out of his seat, panic flooding his senses for the second time. Leon half drags you back into the adjoining room, setting you back onto the stretcher. Marvin is by his side in an instant, fingers going to press against your neck.

You can hear them talking, but it's like there's an undercurrent of thought.

So hungry...

You groan at the intrusion in your mind, making Leon shush you and grip your hand. "Don't try to speak." he says softly, worry tinging his tone. Despite both of their hands you try to sit up, whole body burning. Your skin feels too hot, like a frog realising it's been trapped in the pot. Your breath feels short and tight in your chest, vision swimming as you try to make out the people in front of you.

"How are you feeling?" Marvin asks, and your eyes flit over to him. you shake your head.

"Bad." you croak out. "It feels bad. It feels really really bad." you cry, face splitting into a sob as your shoulder pulses painfully. "it's all hot everywhere, and it's hard to breathe, and it all hurts."

You hate these people...

You close your eyes to try and prevent the words that wriggle into your mind, twisting and warping like worms. You shake your head. "I don't feel good. Please." you splutter. "Please what do I do?"

Lean turns to Marvin, frantic in his words. "What do I have to do? How can we help?" he rushes out, grabbing the older man's arm. However, Marvin doesn't respond, face grim and taking a step back from you.

"She's turning fast." he murmurs lowly, regarding you with caution. You writhe, still seated on the stretcher, not even feeling the dull pain when your overheated body collides with the marble floor. Leon goes to help you up, but Marvin holds him back.

"You have what was in the box on your desk?" Marvin murmurs, making Leon's breath hitch.

"Yes." he breathes back, eyes wide and fearful. "You don't mean to-"

Marvin nods. "I'm sorry, son. Look at how fast she's changing. She'll hurt you. She isn't changing normally."

And you weren't.

Your skin felt like it was on fire, causing you to shriek and wail in between your hiccups and sobs as you rolled on the floor. It felt like there was fire consuming your entire body, scorching your nerves and arteries. You look up at Leon through hazy eyes, pushing onto your hands and knees. "Leon," you rasp. "Leon, help me. Please. Please, please help me." you sob. It feels hard to get air into your lungs from the hands of panic closing around your lungs. You manage to crawl, looking up at him through tears.

Leon himself has tears dripping down his nose and cheeks, eyes wide and skin pale. There’s a tremor in his body, his breathing short. he doesn’t look entirely there, but he takes a deep breath before looking at Marvin.

"No. No, I can't do this." he says, voice breaking. "Where's the cure? You bastard, tell me where the cure is!" he yells at Marvin, face scrunching in desperation. Marvin shakes his head, leaning on the wall to support his own weakened body.

"That is the cure, son." he tries to say softly, but it's hard with the young man raging in front of him.

"Cure?" you croak, making Leon look down at you. He makes a heart shattering sound as you look up at him, his lips wobbling. That's when you see the gun shaking in his other hand, half hidden behind his body, and you freeze. You begin trying to crawl away backwards.

"No, no." you murmur, voice weak and shaky. "Please, no."

Your skin is itching violently, like a million mosquitoes came to take the blood from you, leaving welts in their wake. "Please, Leon. I wanna live. Please no, I'm sorry." you voice breaks and tears stream down your cheeks.

You hate them, YOU HATE THEM....

You hold your head and wail as the thoughts get worse.

HUNGRY.

"Please Leon, please." your murmur, rocking back and forth. "Leon, please, save me. spare me, please." you whimper, but you aren't sure if you even manage to pronounce the words properly. Your vision feels murky, and as you tip your head up you can hardly see out of your right eye. Your left eye takes in the blurry image of Leon, red faced and wiping frantically at his eyes.

"Leon, I love you." you call out weakly, a pitiful sound crawling from the depths of your throat that resonates in the quiet lobby.

Leon wished on whatever god and heaven above that after what he was about to do, they would let you through their doors.

Leon feels like he can't breathe. His heart is racing so hard he thinks he might have a heart attack, or the organ was going to speed right out of his chest. The only thing in his ears is the rushing of blood and the thumping of his heartbeat. His lips are stained with tears, eyes feeling like they're about to swell from the pressure from crying.

He wanted to believe you. He wanted to save you. He wanted to love you.

You still had days together, a future that needed to be made. But when he saw you as you looked up at him, the way one of your eyes was already a milky white and the way your skin seemed to pucker, he knew you were going. His heart tore at every scream and wail of desperation that left your lips as you writhed in pain, and he felt his soul tear every time you begged for him to listen, to not kill you. The way you begged for your life like he was some kind of executioner.

But he knew in the bottom of his heart, that you were gone. You were fading in front of him quicker than he could preserve the memory of your face, or the way your face split when you were smiling instead of screaming. He knew it in the bottom of his heart when you hit the floor rolling off the medical bed, not noticing the blood that trickled from your temple when you sat up. You were unaware of the way your lips spilled blood like a waterfall onto your chin and chest. You didn't say anything about the way your skin inflamed and warped, the veins in your arms filling with a sickly hue. Yet with your one good eye you pleaded with him, the only thing left of you the colour that he adored.

The colour he made his stationary so he could think of you even while he was at work. The colour that he went and bought a tie in so he could match you for events and Christmas parties. the colour that he had daydreamed you passing on to kids one day. He watched the colour fade from your left eye like he was watching a sunset, the beautiful hue slowly become murky while your mouth still wordlessly pleaded at him.

"I'm so sorry sweetheart," he whispers, although he isn't even sure if you can hear him with the tremor in his voice. He raises the gun, gripping it the way that he was taught. "I love you too."

Then there was a bang, a soft thud, and the lobby was quiet once more.

September 30th, 1998.

That was the date that Leon lost the two most important dreams of his life.

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ginnsbaker · 8 months ago

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fic: if i bleed (you'll be the last to know) (5/?)

Part summary: With Leigh, it feels like for every step forward, you end up taking two steps back.

Pairing: Leigh Shaw x Fem!Reader | Word count for this part: 5.600+ | Warnings Some angst, het stuff | A/N: Texts in italic indicate they happened in the past. We get an insight about R's past with Matt and a little surprise at the end.

Masterlist | Part I Part II | Part III | Part IV | Next part

You'd hardly expect to meet a decent guy on the street nowadays.

Though, to be fair, it's less about meeting him and more about running straight into him. At the moment, you don't give it much thought. You distinctly remember wincing from the impact, feeling solid muscle and jutting bones, and a surge of irritation bubbles up inside you because you're not exactly having the best day. But then, the man you ran into looks up, and his face is all apologies.

He looks like he might cry if you don't forgive him, so you do. As you stand there, trying to process the situation, he notices the coffee spilled all over the floor—your coffee, which has now created a sad, dark puddle around your feet.

“Can I buy you another coffee?”

Despite the kind gesture, you find yourself shaking your head, more keen on changing out of your coffee-stained coat than sticking around any longer.

From a few steps away, his impatient friend calls out, “Are you coming, Matt?”

“Yeah, just wait a sec,” Matt responds, his attention still on you. You usually don’t trust men running into you without an agenda, but there’s something about him that tells you he didn’t mean to, and that he’s more than willing to make up for it.

“No, thanks. I got it…”

He looks unnecessarily worried as he leans in a bit closer. “You sure about that?” he asks.

His brown eyes are the friendliest pair you’ve seen in a while. And being essentially alone in this new town, they pull you in like gravity.

“Y-Yes. Just watch where you’re going next time,” you stammer, attempting to stabilize your shaky legs.

“Matt!”

Matt nods hesitantly, then mumbles, “Sorry, I have to go. Again, I'm really sorry,” before his gaze releases you, and you feel its force that held you in a vice-like grip easing away.

As you're walking away, you keep having to tell yourself not to look over your shoulder, even though every part of you kind of wants to.

You guess you must be really lonely, to cling onto the first bit of kindness someone throws your way.

Your deliberate attempts to bump into Leigh finally pay off one brisk Friday morning. But it’s not in the way you’ve imagined it would go.

The town is just waking up, the chill in the air biting at your cheeks as you take your routine jog through the quiet streets. You've discovered that running suits you better than yoga, mainly because it's something you can do solo, and you've always leaned towards activities where you can be by yourself. You’re tired, but you try to lift your knees higher with every stride, keeping your cadence in check.

Turning a corner, a sudden commotion catches your attention. A group of rowdy teenagers barrel down the sidewalk, loud and oblivious to anything but their own world. One of them, a bit too caught up in the fun, nearly crashes into you, forcing you to swerve unexpectedly.

In your effort to dodge, you step right into the path of Leigh Shaw.

It all happens too fast; there's no chance for either of you to do anything else. You crash into each other, the impact sending a jolt through your bodies. You tumble sideways, your arm shooting out instinctively, breaking your fall and softening the impact as you land. Leigh lets out a sharp yelp as she staggers forward from the force of the collision, a look of shock quickly spreading across her face. As she falls, her knee scrapes against the rough concrete, and when she finally sits up, there's a noticeable gash, bleeding freely.

“Oh my god, I am so, so sorry,” you blurt out, horrified at the sight. “Are you okay? Can you stand?”

She grimaces, glancing at her knee, then back at you. “Well, I've definitely been better,” she says, trying to keep her voice light despite the pain. You give her a hand up, and as she leans on you for support, you can't help but notice she's dressed in denim shorts, a blue parka, and flip-flops—not exactly the attire for a morning jog. The sun's just starting to show its face, and you're left wondering where she's headed so early, if she's not out for a run or something.

Looking around, you notice the roll-up shutters of nearby establishments are still down, indicating they won't be opening anytime soon. It’s apparent that there's nowhere immediate to find help or a first-aid kit. You scratch the back of your neck, an awkward idea coming to you.

“I don’t think there’s nowhere we can ask for help,” you start, trying not to sound too anxious about what you’re about to suggest. “I've got a first-aid kit at my place, though. It's not far. We could fix you up there, if you're okay with it?”

Leigh takes a beat, and then gives you a nod. “I guess that's my best option right now. Lead the way.”

As you start walking, Leigh instinctively grabs your arm for support. Your foot have barely hit the pavement when she suddenly grips tighter, fingers clawing into your arm as she lets out a hiss of pain. The wound must have stretched as she bent her knee to take a step, and with the way she's limping, you realize making her walk is a bad call.

“Shit, I'm really sorry,” you apologize again, the situation dawning on you. This isn't at all how you wanted to run into Leigh again, especially after trying to find a way to reconnect since the dinner in her car. “Let me get an Uber.”

Leigh starts to object, but you're already pulling out your phone. The last thing you wanted was for your attempt to help to end up hurting her more.

“So, where were you headed earlier?” you ask casually, hoping not to pry too much. “Doesn't seem like you were out for a run like I was.”

Leigh’s injury is more severe than you first thought; after hitting a rough patch on the pavement, her knee took the brunt of the fall. The skin is scraped away in several places, revealing angry, reddened flesh beneath.

“Grocery, or something,” Leigh mumbles, distracted and wincing a bit as you ready another dab of antiseptic for her knee. The moment the cotton touches the wound, she can't help but jerk away slightly.

“Sorry, sorry,” you murmur, soothingly, noticing she's struggling to stay still. To help steady her, you gently hold onto her calf, and that's when you feel your cheeks start to warm up. “I'll be as quick as I can,” you promise, trying to sound more confident than you feel.

“I’m okay. You're doing...fine,” Leigh sighs between clenched teeth, obviously trying to downplay her discomfort.

You know you're not fine, certainly not in the way Leigh means. All you can hear is yours and Leigh’s breathing, and your heart stuttering in your chest, because despite barely seeing Leigh in recent weeks, this annoying little crush won’t go away. It’s weird enough that she’s Matt’s wife, and you can't shake the feeling that you’re probably the last person she’d ever look at that way. Not to mention, you're not even sure if she's into women.

Once you’re done cleaning her wound, you carefully wrap a bandage around her knee. Then, you head to the fridge to grab some ice, noticing Leigh's puzzled look when you return.

“What’s that for?” she asks, tilting her head slightly.

“I have a feeling you're going to have a bone bruise after that fall,” you explain, handing her the ice wrapped in a cloth. “This should help with the pain and keep the swelling down.”

She accepts it, a small smile of gratitude on her face as she says, “Thanks.”

“No problem, it's my fault anyway.”

“It was an accident,” Leigh points out.

An accident that, if I'm being honest with myself, I was somewhat hoping for, you reflect with regret.

Leigh looks relieved as she presses the ice against her knee, eyes closing for a moment. With the immediate pain taken care of, you can't help but wonder again where she was headed earlier as you start pulling ingredients out of the fridge to whip up some breakfast.

“Hope you're hungry,” you say, flashing a smile as you fire up the stove.

“I'm fine, really,” she says, but the moment the bacon starts sizzling, she caves. “Actually, I could eat.”

With your back to her, you could smirk all you want at her change of heart. After frying up the bacon and eggs, you pull out some leftover rice and begin chopping garlic.

“What are you making?” Leigh asks suddenly from behind you.

“This is something I picked up on my travels through Southeast Asia,” you share as you cook. “Can't do bacon and eggs without it anymore. But I'll get some toast going for you.”

Leigh's face lights up, almost childlike. “Toast sounds great.”

You and Leigh settle into your meal, you with your plate of garlic rice, bacon, and eggs, and Leigh with her toast done just right alongside her bacon and eggs. She surprises you by complimenting how you cooked the eggs, noticing they're slightly burnt to a crisp around the edges.

“I've never had my eggs quite like this before,” she says.

“Oh, that?” you chuckle. “Learned the technique by accident some time ago. Got distracted and ended up leaving them on the heat a bit too long.”

She laughs too, and soon enough, you're both just talking like old friends, the conversation breezy and effortless. You begin to get a real sense of Leigh's sense of humor and it complements yours in the best way. Leigh loops back to when you mentioned visiting Southeast Asia, and you're more than happy to share your experiences, considering she's never left the country.

“...I’m pretty sure Hawaii counts, right? With the weather and everything, plus it’s really far—”

You’re still cracking up over some joke she made moments ago, and now you’re wondering if you’ll ever stop.

“No way, Leigh, it doesn’t work like that!” you get out between laughs, holding onto your stomach as you shake with laughter.

The more you talk, the more Leigh hangs on every word, making you feel surprisingly at ease. Sharing stories about places you've been and things you've seen becomes less about bragging and more about just sharing your adventures with someone who’s really listening. It's kind of refreshing, actually, feeling this free to dive into your memories with someone so interested.

That is until the topic eventually shifts to your fitness routine. It's then that Leigh offhandedly mentions, “You'll probably see more progress with the new instructor next week. I heard she’s got a certificate and all.”

You pause, fork paused mid-air. “New instructor? You’re not leading the class next week?”

Leigh simply shakes her head no.

“Then, when are you coming back?”

Leigh takes a breath before saying, “I actually quit.”

Hearing her say she’s left the studio nearly makes you spit out your breakfast. You're halfway through a bite, trying to wrap your head around the news, when suddenly, Leigh checks her phone. Before you can even dive into a million questions about why she quit, she's saying she needs to head home.

Your thoughts are spinning, but you don’t miss the opportunity to offer her a ride.

“You drive?” Leigh looks surprised.

“Yeah, just got the car this weekend,” you manage to say, still reeling from the shock that Leigh won't be at Beautiful Beast anymore.

“Are you sure? I can just call a cab,” Leigh mutters, probably noticing you're a bit out of it.

“No, really, I insist,” you say. Making her walk on that knee seems like the last thing you should do.

Leigh tries to brush it off once more, “Again, an accident.”

You ignore her, grabbing your keys from a dusty fishbowl. “Doesn't mean I won't be kicking myself over it.”

She lets out a sigh, and you can't quite tell if she's resigned or just annoyed.

As you pull up in front of Leigh's house for the first time, you're immediately taken in by its typical three-bedroom layout. The lawn, however, looks like it hasn't seen a mower in quite some time, giving the place a lived-in, somewhat neglected feel. You quickly get out of the car to help Leigh to the front step.

Then, out of nowhere, Leigh curses, patting down her pockets in a panic. “Fuck, I forgot my keys.”

“But someone should be home, right?” you ask.

Leigh rings the doorbell, her expression turning sour. “Yeah, my sister,” she mutters, clearly not thrilled at the prospect.

You're taken aback when, a few seconds later, it's Jules from the studio who opens the door. The sharp look they exchange isn't lost on you; it's clear there's more to the story than just Leigh coming home without her keys. You're gearing up to say goodbye, assuming Leigh will head inside, but instead, she turns to you and says, “Wait right here.”

You do as she says, glancing at the ground, shuffling your feet back and forth.

“Hi, I'm Jules, Leigh's sister. I've seen you around at Beautiful Beast. You're one of Leigh's clients?” Jules smiles at you, politely offering a hand for you to shake. You accept it and introduce yourself in return. Watching her face, you see the moment she puts it all together.

“Oh, you're the vet who Matt had—I'm sorry. It's just, I wasn't expecting to see you here, helping Leigh home.”

You knew where that first sentence was going, but you're silently thankful Jules decided to pull back and not finish it. You force a smile as you explain how you got here. “She was out for groceries, and I kind of ran into her, leading to a bit of a fall, and now—”

“No, she wasn’t,” Jules cuts in sharply.

“Sorry?”

“Leigh didn't come home last night,” she says. But before you have a chance to process this new information, Leigh returns, clutching a fifty-dollar bill.

“For the trouble,” she tells you, getting in front of Jules.

You attempt to wave it off. “Hey, you don't have to do that—”

But Leigh isn't taking no for an answer, she presses the bill into your hand. You never see it coming what happens next: she plants a quick peck on your cheek, effectively shutting down any further protests. The spot where her lips brushed against your skin tingles, and it’s all you can think about for a moment. Without waiting for you to react properly, Leigh starts herding Jules back inside the house, throwing over her shoulder a quick, “Thanks again, Y/N. Bye.”

You're left there, holding the bill in one hand, touching your cheek with the other, and staring at the closed door, suddenly very aware of how little you actually know about what's going on in Leigh's life.

Suzie shoots you that knowing look again as you head out of the clinic decked out in your active gear.

This time, a blush creeps up on your cheeks, memories of your chat with her about someone “making those sweat sessions worth it” floating back, and you try your best not to let your thoughts drift to Leigh. But then it hits you that she won't be there. Despite your dedication, the sheer excitement of going to the studio isn't quite what it used to be without her as your instructor.

Just as Suzie is about to lock up, the door bursts open. A man rushes in, cradling a small dog in his arms, panic written all over his face. He explains, breathless, that his pet is struggling with labor.

Suzie looks back at you. “I could call Foreman for this,” she says, already reaching for her phone. You stand there for a second, deliberating. Leigh won't be at the class; she's no longer at the Beautiful Beast.

Then, making up your mind, you hold out a hand to stop Suzie. “No, there’s no need. I've got this.”

It feels like you've just walked into one of those old-timey romantic movies, where chivalry isn’t dead and everything turns out way better than you could've ever hoped. In hindsight, it’s better. Because it’s real, and you're right in the middle of it, living a dream you didn't even know you had, with the kind of guy you thought only existed in those movies.

The night air is cool and light, brushing against your skin as the car slows to a stop in front of your apartment. To say the least, it's been an unexpected evening for a first date, and easily one of the best.

As Matt pulls up to your building, he turns to you, a sheepish grin lighting up his face. “Well, here we are,” he says, as if surprised you've arrived so soon.

You don’t want to say goodbye. Not yet. So you stay put in the passenger seat, doing your best to draw out the last strands of the evening.

“So, Nick was the mastermind behind all this?” you tease, breaking the comfortable silence that had settled between you two.

Matt chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, about that... I had no clue he asked for your number until he handed it to me and said, ‘You owe me one’.”

“He’s the perfect wingman, then?”

“I guess you could say that,” Matt agrees, smiling. “I didn't tell him about my interest in you, but Nick knew anyway. He's good at reading people, always has been.”

“I see,” you say, your gaze following the contours of his cheeks, which carry a soft pink blush. It could be from the red wine you both enjoyed at dinner, or, you find yourself hoping, it might be because of you. “Well, he has my thanks. I really thought he was the one interested in me though.”

Matt laughs, a sound that rumbles deep in his chest. “No, it was always me. Since the moment I, uh, ran into you.”

There’s a moment where you both just stare at each other, tacitly acknowledging the serendipity of it all—the accidental meeting that could've ended with a simple apology and nothing more.

Yet here you are.

“You know, I'm glad it was you,” you profess, feeling a boldness that usually isn't there.

Matt breaks into a huge grin, but it's really in his eyes where you can see just how happy your remark has made him.

“Would you... maybe want to do this again? Without the running into each other part, I mean,” he says softly.

You laugh, nodding. “I'd like that. Just maybe start with coffee next time. And no spilling.”

“Deal,” he says, his grin infectious.

As you step out of the car, a proposition forms in your mind and you backtrack.

“Would you like to get that coffee now?”

Sometimes, you find yourself dreaming about your memories with Matt, particularly the part Leigh interrogated you about. Even though you stuck to the facts, you couldn't shake off the feeling that you were somehow deceiving her.

You wonder if this is why you haven't been able to sleep for days. That, coupled with the fact that you've been handling emergencies yourself instead of calling Foreman as you used to. Suzie has mentioned that since you're taking on all the emergency cases, you might be overcompensating your intern. You don’t tell Suzie though that your work has become a welcome distraction from the realization that your new hobby no longer holds your interest, leaving you with extra hours to fill before returning to the solitude of your apartment.

And without seeing Leigh, there’s only your own head to get your fill of her. You find yourself thinking about her now and then, about what she's been doing, wondering if she's found a new job after leaving her yoga instructor position. She crosses your mind at the most random hours of the day, take right now, for example—staring at this little 8-day-old Shih Tzu puppy in the incubator, its fur somehow has you thinking of Leigh's hair color.

The puppy was part of a litter brought in for a C-section. Tragically, its mother didn't survive, and the owner, possibly overwhelmed by the situation and the impending bills, abandoned them. Out of four puppies, this one, the runt of the litter, was the sole survivor.

“What are we going to do with you, huh?” you muse aloud, the puppy blinking back with innocent eyes. “I can't take you for myself; you'd just end up living here in the clinic with me. And let's be honest, living in a hospital can't be much fun, right? It’s not safe either, exposes you to diseases.”

You sigh, brushing its length with your forefinger. “The other choice is to send you to a shelter. I'm sure someone would fall head over heels for you and adopt you in no time. But,” you sigh, your heart heavy, “I can't guarantee that'll happen quickly, as much as we both might want it to.”

“Finding where you fit in this big world isn't easy, you know? It's like searching for that one place, or that one person, where you could simply just… belong to. But I guess when you finally find it, it feels like winning the lottery, right?”

The puppy makes a noise, automatically bringing a smile to your lips. You wonder if Leigh has ever thought of the same thing—about searching for where she belongs after losing her home and everything familiar when Matt passed away. Perhaps it's even scarier for her. The thought of finding that one thing that's uniquely ours, only to lose it forever. What if we're only given one thing that's truly meant for us?

And once it's gone, what does that leave us with?

One sleepless night, after deciding to bring the puppy home for a more personal touch in its care, a thought crosses your mind. What if you could restore some of what was inadvertently taken from Leigh? Maybe bring back a piece of home and purpose that seemed to have slipped through her fingers when her world turned upside down?

It’s true, the puppy's late-night energy partly nudged the thought your way, but deep down, you believe Leigh will be perfect for him. You're sure she'll adore him, and he's bound to love her just as much.

Just as you're settling back to attempt sleep again, your phone starts ringing. You blink at the screen, disbelief washing over you as you see it's Leigh calling—the same woman you've recently realized you have feelings for, and who's been on your mind just moments ago. A part of you wonders if she dialed the wrong number by mistake, but it keeps ringing, compelling you to answer.

“Leigh?” you answer, the name almost a question in itself.

On the other end, you hear her take a deep breath—an ironic move given how the call exudes a vibe of urgency. Then, she speaks, her voice clear yet carrying an undercurrent of something you can't quite place.

“Y/N Are you available to talk right now?”

“Yeah, I am. What's going on—”

“No, not on the phone. Can you meet me right now?”

You glance down at yourself, noting your sleep shorts and tee. You're so comfortable and cozy in bed, and the puppy had just gotten to sleep. It's tempting to reschedule this some other time. But the thought of Leigh Shaw on the other end of the line, coupled with the worrying nature of her request, tilts the balance. The idea of saying no, only to find out something bad happened to her, is something you know you wouldn’t forgive yourself for.

“Yes, I can meet you,” you say, hurrying your movements and snatching your jacket from the cabinet. “Where?”

The date doesn't end with just late-night coffee.

Matt's hand is on your ass, fingers digging in like he owns the place. You’re gripping his tie, pulling him in, again and again. Both of you are still wearing all your clothes, but they're starting to feel like barriers as you both lean into each other, striving to get as close as humanly possible.

The invitation for a nightcap, decaffeinated per his request, had both of you sitting a bit too close on the couch, sharing silly smiles over steaming cups as if you were already lost in love. When the cups were drained, conversation drifted dangerously towards the topic of sex, and that's when you caught yourself staring at Matt's lips. Before he had a chance to react, you were going for it, giving into weeks of pent-up sexual tension.

Matt's lips find their way to your neck, sending a shiver down your spine. Encouraged by the heat of the moment, your fingers start to work on the buttons of Matt's shirt, eager to explore further.

But then his hands caught yours.

“W-Wait…”

You’re stunned, pulling back almost reflexively, feeling a bit embarrassed as you tried to figure out if you crossed a line.

“Did I... do something wrong?” you ask.

Matt shakes his head and then kisses you on the forehead. He further reassures you by saying, “No, no, it's not you. I just think we might be rushing things a bit. I really like you, and I want us to be sure about this, you know?”

Inside, you’re a mess of wants and needs, but as much as you want him tonight, you realize you want him even more tomorrow, and the day after. You won't rush this, especially if he's not ready. So, you nod, squashing down the throbbing between your legs as you try to concentrate on anything but his half-open shirt.

“I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable or anything,” he adds, wearing that apologetic look on his face that got you the first time.

In response, you hold Matt's face gently, giving him a quick, soft kiss on the lips. “I really like you too,” you say, despite feeling like those words pale in comparison to what you truly feel for him.

Standing up, you figure he'll say his goodbyes and head out. But instead, Matt looks up at you, a sheepish grin spreading across his face.

“I don't want to rush things,” he repeats. “But, I also don't really want to leave just yet. Would it be okay if I stayed the night?”

The request takes you by surprise, a warm fluttering sensation bubbling up inside you at the thought of him wanting to stay. “Of course, you can stay,” you whisper, a smile tugging at your lips. “But I hope you're okay with the couch.”

Matt laughs and starts pulling off his socks. “There's nowhere else I'd rather be.”

Ever since Leigh asked to meet at a gas station on the sketchier side of town, your anxiety hasn't settled. It's a part of town known for trouble, somewhere you'd rather not be, especially in the dead of night. It doesn’t matter, because you’re hopelessly driven by concern and an unspoken affection that won't let you say no to her, no matter the time or place.

You walk up to the convenience store next to the gas station, its fluorescent lights flickering ominously, almost like you've just stepped into the opening scene of a horror movie. It's dead silent, aside from a radio playing inside the store, turned up by the person manning it in a feeble attempt to fill the silence or maybe to keep company. Leigh is inside, visible through the large, pane-glass window, nursing a coffee, alone. The way she's standing, something's off.

You make your way towards her, hands buried deep in the comfort of your hoodie's pockets.

“Hey—”

She's like a coiled spring at the sound of your voice. That should’ve been your first clue.

“Why did you lie?” Leigh asks point-blank.

“Leigh, I—What do you mean?”

Leigh's face twists into a grimace that chills you to the bone, a clear sign that tonight's going down one of two paths: either you both find a way through this mess, or she cuts you out for good. But you're lost, genuinely clueless about any lie she's accusing you of. You've been straight with her, at least you think you have.

Her nostrils flare, her eyes burning holes into you as she waits for some sort of confession. But all you can give her is a dumbfounded look.

After a while, Leigh's patience wears thin. “We're not doing this here,” she growls, glaring at the lone store clerk, who seems amused and makes no attempt to hide his interest in eavesdropping on the conversation.

“Leigh, I seriously don't know what you're talking about.”

“Just come with me,” she snaps, ushering you back outside, pulling at your arm with a grip that leaves no room for argument. It's painful, the way her nails dig into your skin, but you suppose you deserve it, whatever it might be. If it helps her release her anger, you're willing to bear it.

Leigh stops, plants her hands on her hips, and just looks at you, like she's waiting for something to click in your head. “Leigh, please—” you start, but you're cut off not by her anger this time, but by the sight of her eyes glistening, fighting back tears.

“You're really going to make me say it?” she manages to choke out, before giving a humorless laugh and running a frustrated hand over her face. Before you can protest again, she thrusts a phone into your hand. It's lit up, a text conversation open and waiting. As you scroll through the messages, your mouth opens in shock. They're from Matt.

Skimming through the texts, your jaw nearly hits the ground. He's recounting your first date, detailing how the night ended with him at your place. He admits nothing happened, but not for a lack of desire. Instead, he confesses he held back because he's still wrestling with the fact that he's married to Leigh. He mentions wanting to make sure when he jumps in with you, he's not dragging any “chains” along.

He goes on, saying he felt you were on the same page, ready to go further, and implies the only reason things didn't heat up was because he had self-control. Reading this, you can't decide if Matt's just showing off or if he's trying to justify his half-steps to whoever's reading this on the other end.

“Whose phone is this?” you blurt out, the only question that registers in your brain. It turns out to be the wrong thing to say, though, as it’s precisely the spark that ignites Leigh's fury, sending it cascading over the edge.

“Don’t fucking change the subject!”

You press your lips into a thin line, your own frustration simmering. “I didn't lie to you, Leigh.” You wave the phone with Matt’s messages like some kind of proof, arguing, “He even says here nothing happened!”

“It's not just about what did or didn't happen!” she fires back, her eyes blazing. “You wanted it to happen. You were ready to go there with him. You wanted more, and you're still not owning up to it.”

At this point, keeping your emotions under wraps isn't an option anymore.

“Yes! Of course, I wanted to go there with him,” you explode, your hands coming up in the air in surrender. “I found him attractive, thought he was a great guy, and—single, Leigh! I thought he was single when I was falling for him, okay? Are you happy now?”

Leigh's response is to laugh, but it's not a happy sound. It's bitter, mocking, and it just keeps going.

You're standing there, breathing hard, your breath visible in the chilly air, when it hits you why she’s so upset: When you were telling her the details of your affair, you made it sound as if what happened—or almost happened—was just a casual fling. And Leigh, she just soaked up that version. In doing so, she somehow managed to forgive Matt, forgive you for your role in it, and even toy with the idea of being friends with you.

You made her believe it didn’t mean anything more than what she meant to him. It ripped off the bandage and thrust a knife back into her wound.

After Leigh's laughter fizzles out, the cold seems to bite a little harder, and you notice her shivering—whether from the cold or the tumult of emotions, you can't tell. She's just in shorts and a thin shirt, unprepared for the temperature drop.

Seeing her like this, vulnerable and cold, you feel the urge to just hug her and make her feel a fraction of how badly you regret deceiving her all along. Because saying “I'm sorry” feels way too small for the giant mess of feelings you're dealing with, especially the ones about her that you didn't even realize were piling up until now.

“Leigh,” you whisper, bargaining for something you don’t know.

She meets your gaze, a bit more peace in her eyes now, but that doesn't stop the tears from finally rolling down her cheeks. She's about to speak when suddenly a car pulls up in front of you, its headlights flashing across your faces, momentarily blinding you both.

A man steps out of the car, and Leigh recognizes him immediately. You do too, although it takes you a second longer to realize. Before either of you could react, he's already launching into a tirade. “Leigh, what the hell? Leaving in the middle of the night, stealing my phone—”

“Not now, Danny.”

You freeze, every fiber of your being locking onto the newcomer—because you're almost certain Leigh misspoke.

His name is not Danny.

It’s Nick.

#unbetad #my writing #my fic #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen #leigh shaw x reader #leigh shaw x female reader #leigh shaw #sorry for your loss au #leigh shaw x you #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #sorry i had to tag wanda x reader for visibility

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milkcryy · 7 months ago

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thinking about sinister mark and sigh.

hopping on the bandwagon. i have some choice Thoughts about him that id like to air out.

(keep in mind that i am NOT A DARK BLOG!!! stuff i say in this post is Very close to toeing the line of being borderline SCARY TO ME. im a soft bitch) also no non/dubcon bc consent is important to me.

minors dni with this post cause it gets a little spicy under the cut..

these dark blogs kinda make me see the sinister mark vision.. like..... theres so many possibilities when it comes to him

CW: he eats you out while youre on your period + more. it gets bloody.

that is a man who KNOWS what he wants and GETS it. so desperate and borderline animalistic about you that when he rushes in a blur to pin you to a wall, it cracks. muttering and panting in your ear about what hes about to do to you, and you just know both of you wont make it out of this without blood being involved. hes pressing up against you, still in his stupid suit. smooth as the material rubbed against your back, stinking with his sweat.

hed start out considerably gentle with it, hands shaking from holding himself back from the worst of what he was fantasizing of doing to you. pinning you hips down to keep you from squirming despite your quips about you being on your period. he'd lick his lips, his heart racing even faster when he pulls down your pants. even better, he rasps, dragging his hands down your thighs and leaning in close between them. you couldnt see his eyes through how opaque and dark his goggles were, but you could tell his eyes were blinking heavily with lust just to swallow you whole without remorse.

and maybe you let him, spreading your legs for him. like a bunny letting a wolf clamp its jaws around the other's neck. he was going to drain you dry.

he wastes no time eating you out, lips and tongue working at your sweet spots in the best way possible. something something his grip on your hips bruising you. something something he haphazardly spits on your clit as if it wasnt slick enough, the room filling with the biting scent of metal. mercilessly tonguing you even after youre finished, thighs squeezing around mark's head, unable to compose yourself when every nerve is ridden with overwhelming pleasure.

before you know it, youre forced on your hands and knees. a rough hand at the back of your head forcing your face down onto the bed when his tip rubs at your bloody, dripping entrance. he mustve ripped the crotch area of his suit off, you barely have time for the thought to process when he's hurriedly pushing his dick inside you, when the tip presses just a little painfully against your cervix, he relishes the squeak you let out, muffled by the bedsheets.

mark wastes no time with this, hips moving at a relentless pace, coaxing - no - forcing moans and squeaks from you as if he were pulling the pathetic sounds out of you with his bare hands. and his grip was a vice, merciless thing. though there was no relief when his hand lets go of the back of your head, arms shaking and struggling to prop yourself up. licking your blood off his lips, mark leans in, his chest pressing against your back. grunting in your ear. your eyes shoot open to the feeling of mark's teeth clamping harshly down onto your shoulder. you cry out, whether in pain or pleasure, you didnt know, but the harder his jaw clamped, you were sure it was some mix of both. your skin gave way, sharp canines piercing your shoulder like he was some feral dog. the small drops of blood that slithered from the wound were quickly lapped up by a rough, bloodthirsty tongue.

when both of you are finished, you dont stop leaking his cum from your hole for a whole day. you body is practically covered with livid bruises and bite marks. and whenever you see them in the mirror, you brandish them like its a shining, bright fucking gold medal.

#mark grayson x reader #mark grayson smut #afab reader #mark grayson x afab reader #ignore how clinically insane i am about him #i think to think im better than those dahmer fangirls then turn around and pull this #is it goofy that hes doing allat in his stupid ass suit? goggles and everything?#no set up. just sex.#hes the typa guy to ask you if youre ready to be a single mother

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star-girl69 · 2 years ago

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Keep Me Ablaze

Jake Sully x Neytiri x Fem!Reader

—-

a/n: apologies this chapter is kinda short, but i hope you all enjoy!!

warnings: mentions of blood, mention of injury, mentions of death, near death experience (kinda), swearing, tell me if i missed anything!!

Chapter Eleven- You and Yours

—-

The climb is rough, never-ending miles upon miles of upward climbing, praying you won’t slip before each rock you manage to grab, each foot hole you sink into.

Jumping through the air and onto the vine felt nothing like flying, nothing like being free. Your stomach turned and flipped, and the swish of Seze’s wings soaring through the air, Neytiri’s laughs and amusement did nothing to help it.

But still, you feel safer with her in the skies, safer with Jake on the vine next to you, smiling at you every so often.

Tsu’tey then makes you run across braided plants and vines that don’t feel like plants. They are so strong and thick it is like a continent is below you.

You barely manage to bite back a snarky comment about how unsafe it is running across, hundreds of feet above the ground.

Jake smiles at you and rolls his eyes, like he knew what you were going to say anyway.

Your footsteps echo in the cavern, sharp like bone, but soon light trickles through, and a small stream of water runs right next to you.

When you make it through, it is exactly like Neytiri described it all those years ago. A floating circle of mountains, waterfalls and ikrans everywhere. Flying and free, cutting through the sky, paying no mind to the resistance of the wind.

Neytiri and Seze cut through it all, coming right towards the opening where you all gawk in awe. Seze barely grabs onto the opening before Neytiri jumps off, staring at you and Jake as Seze’s head bumps into her side.

You watch Jake nod at her, smirking, almost as if to say: “I did it. You thought I couldn’t and I did it.”

She smiles and looks down, like she always knew he could do it.

You feel something rolling around in your stomach, something horrid and painful that makes your chest ache and your mind reel.

She exchanges greetings with Tsu’tey while the excitement catches up to you, everything else fading to the background as you focus on taking deep, calming breathes.

Tsu’tey grins wildly, looking over Jake and sneering, “Jakesully will go first.”

Jake shakes his head and smiles, hands his bow to Tsu’tey, who grabs it sharply.

You watch as Neytiri walks past you to Jake, her eyes deadly arrows, trying to sink into Tsu’tey.

Neytiri urges Jake around a slight bend, behind a waterfall. She motions for you, and you follow her without hesitation.

The waterfall is louder behind it, pressed up against the cool rock wall, you can feel the spray of it on your blue skin.

Neytiri places her hand on Jake’s shoulder, almost like to provide some comfort, leaning over him.

“Now you must choose your ikran. This you must feel inside,” she guides, placing her hand over his chest before pulling back. “If he also chooses you, you must live quick like I showed. You will have one chance, Jake.”

“How will I know if he chooses me?”

“He will try to kill you.”

You have always admired Neytiri’s bluntness, her lack of hesitation. She sees the situation for all that it is and simply acts. She acts on a blend of her heart and her brain, doing what she must do and what she wants too.

“Outstanding,” Jake hisses, as the other warriors press close behind you.

He steps out from where he was hidden, forward and away, into the unknown, into the future. He does not know what path has already been woven for him, he does not know what will happen this day.

He simply swings his rope in a circle, walks into the future.

Neytiri urges you to follow, slow, eyes always peeled. Her grip around your arm is like a vice, but the ikrans all fly away. They leave you with a rocky outcrop to hide behind, watch Jake closely as he battles.

You sigh, mess with your fingers and bite your lip, looking down, until Neytiri suddenly tenses and you look up.

Jake is at a standstill. He faces an ikran, exchanging hisses and battle cries. Declarations of war, and Neytiri grins next to you.

“Let’s dance,” he mutters, swinging the rope faster.

He throws it around the ikran’s jaw, and Neytiri’s nails dig into your arm, before swinging himself over in the second the ikran is surprised. You take in account of each move he makes, each exact angle and measure. What risks he takes, what he leaves alone.

You let your eyes stray away while he and the ikran essentially wrestle, neither gaining an upper hand.

“Make the bond!” Neytiri shouts.

Then, you see it. Possibly the most beautiful thing you have ever seen, blue and purple with specks of white, like a night sky, with a large white spot at the center of her chest that looks like the moon from Earth, that Grace always spoke so fondly about.

What you mother had loved, before she died.

You gasp, almost feeling like you could reach forward and have a piece of your mother with you, a piece of her home planet. A piece of what she loved.

But, the ikran feels your stare, it’s eyes cutting away from the commotion Jake causes, taking a sure step forward and roaring so loudly you think the ground shakes.

But, it’s drowned out by Jake falling over the edge, causing you to turn away and look back.

“Jake!” Neytiri screeches, and you call his name, but it sounds more like a sob.

Then, he is simply climbing back up again after barely a moment, throwing himself back onto the ikran.

Neytiri smiles and shakes her head, letting her hand fall from your arm, creeping away from you.

Another roar. Heavy footsteps. Not Jake’s.

Yours, something inside you says. That is your ikran.

You’re grabbing the rope before you can even think, plants sewn together with a rock at the end.

Maybe if anyone noticed you walking forward, they would have stopped you. Maybe pushed you forward. But it’s was supposed to be Jake’s turn, and you cannot blame them for watching the show they were informed of. The show they came to see.

The rocks are unsteady under your feet, but you keep eye contact, keep your teeth bared like the ikran does.

You don’t know who will make the first move. Maybe you should. Maybe you should simply do what Jake did.

But you want to be your own fire, be your own wildfire. You are not a candle. You will not be snuffed out.

You whip the rope around as the ikran dives forward, watching in horror as you miss, as the rock simply bounces off of the ikran’s face.

But you had been so confident in your decision, you were already midair by the time you threw it, and now you have no choice but to land again. The ikran doesn’t tolerate you. The ikran is yours, and you will make it.

You wrap your legs around her neck, try to keep yourself like a continent. Not an island, not a candle, but a wild fire, a continent. You are what is happening in this moment, just you and your ikran.

You are the wildfire burning, lighting up the night like the sun. You swallow the darkness, swallow the moon.

The ikran throws her head forward, forcing your arms to come out on instinct.

Instead, you only come away with blood dripping down your arm, a jagged cut from a sharp rock. The ikran must have hurt herself too, because she let’s out a pained sound, and without Jake’s battle filling the air- when did he make shahaylu?- all that is left to hear is you.

“Y/N!” Neytiri yells, runs forward, close enough to wear she can see the bite marks on your lip, the blood pouring down your arm.

She hisses. You cannot tell what she’s mad at. Who.

“Make the bond!” Tsu’tey shouts, and it’s a moment of clarity, and in the few seconds you and the ikran are dizzy and recovering, you grab your queue tight in your hand.

“It’s okay,” you murmur in Na’vi. “It’s okay, it’s okay,” but just as you reached for her queue- she throws herself back up, forcing you to fruit your teeth and hold on tight, out-wait the worst of her retaliation.

“Make the bond!” Neytiri yells, Tsu’tey’s hand around her bicep. “Make the bond!”

“Fuck!” you yell, legs wrapped as tight as they can, so hard you feel your choking your poor ikran. You wrap your arms around her neck, fumble blindly for the start of her queue, run your hand down.

You grip tight as she makes a particularly rough attempt to throw you off, jaw snapping wildly, another roar of pain.

“It’s okay!” you shout, hand loosening, trailing down more. She throws herself back onto the ground, but there is fire in your veins, and not even the strongest flap of her wings could blow you out. Besides, you’re pretty sure there is some fire in her too.

The two of you know each other, even like this.

And there is this one burning moment, bathed in fire and burning like a thousand suns, where it is is just you and your ikran. Just you and yours.

Is this what Neytiri feels like?

When she’s on top of the world and with you, with herself and what belongs to her.

You- you are a wildfire, your mother’s daughter, your father’s daughter. You are your Aunt’s niece, and you are a dreamwalker. You transcend worlds. Graven between the two, feel their resistance and swim through anyways.

You make the bond, and it is like a thousand starts burst behind your eyes, a fire is reborn in your stomach, and it is just you. All you were, all you are, all you will be. It is just you and yours.

—-

taglist:

@kitkat1690 @tiajk @reallysparklychaos @behindthearcane @neteyamforlife @aeslenya @ghoulbli @luvvsnae @personapersonally @bubble-blu @ameriesworld @itsyoboysparkel @ok-boke @arschbohrer @ambria @ssc7514 @w3ird11 @vane28282 @littlexscarletxwitch @erenjaegerwifee @myheartfollower @simp-erformarvelwomen @maevirago @n7cje @aerangi @minkyungseokie @disaster-in-waiting @httpsplanetmarsdotcom @hot15936 @noname2246 @fanboyluvr @ara-a-bird @fussel9913 @iwaslikeblah @hai-kbai

everything taglist:

@monsterwasstolen @fanboyluvr @artologia-blog1 @tulipatheticee @elvyshiarieko @fluffisalliwant @fluffi1991-blog @jeizllz @myheartfollower @fy-fy-world @minkyyungseokie @ivy-plays @blueberryfailureclinic

#jake sully x neytiri #jake sully x reader #neytiri x reader

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theviceadmiralswife · 2 years ago

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Happy Valentines day part 2

Salute recruits and soldiers!!

A happy valentines day. Here is another part. Part 2 of our beloved vice admirals and how they spent valentines day with their wife's, lovers, partners and s/o .

I reblog part 1 to it, so you have them all together. And as usual I might revise part 1 as well. So keep eyes peeled and as always enjoy. Of course NSFW 18 + content ahead.

Happy Valentines 🍓❤🍓❤❤❤❤

YAMAKAJI

• he enjoys Valentines day of all his non working days the most. Its his favorite day since he gets to completely and utterly spoil you.

• Yamakaji loves to make you smile so your day is spent with a trip to the fun fair or circus.

• lots of laughter and fun. He makes sure to take every ride and you leave with prices won at a raffle or shooting stand in your arms

• he teases and feeds you the foods and sweets when you two come home

• as a matter of fact he is obsessed with watching your mouth and lips and after the last chocolate praline he makes that you lick his fingers and suck playful on them

• Yamakaji is the embodiment of quiet waters are deep and somewhat dirty, while you suck his fingers nice and slowly his zip opens and you get his thick manhood to suck on next

• it turns him on immensely to watch how he penetrates you, your lips glide over his tip sliding down the entire length

• it may start out slowly but in the heat of deep throating you he gets fast and rough until he comes and fills your mouth with his cum

• Yamakaji is man enough to return the favor placing you on the bed you 2 share, pulling down your clothes and buries his head between your legs. Squeezing your butt tightly his tongue pushes into your sex exploring the wet fleshy hole.

• his beard tickles and that’s a bonus he knows how to pleasure a woman with his luscious large mouth and lips oh and his tongue … he spoils you you till you have your orgasm and relishes in swallowing your juices

• but don’t think you’re done yet cause when Yamakaji finished cleaning up between your legs he is ready for round 2. He pulls you up onto his lap and shoves his cock into you. Enjoying you And if you thought the fun fair rides where great riding this vice admiral all night will leave with more thrills and wobbly legs the next day.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Dalmatian

• the furry of the vice admirals might be a hardass on the battle field but for Valentines day given he gets the day off well really any other off day will do, is a true cozy couch potato

• He will spent the whole day and night in bed with you just for the fluffy snuggles that you get with him. To Dalmatian this is special its simply detoxification from the muck of piracy and he wants to share it with no one else but you.

• you be guaranteed a wet dogs nose wake up call and Dalmatians tail around your waist, he will lick your neck like any good dog before an intensive kissing session.

• Dalmatian is full of surprises he even makes breakfast and let’s you in a bath. He certainly is very physical and attentive throughout the day. And one would think he is a gentle lover, but there are clues of his animalistic and dominant side i.e. he puts his hands around your throat a love bite to the neck.

• the valentines evening might start with you two snuggling with a good movie but you never make it to the end. Dalmatians hands are fast and while you hit his favourite spot behind his ear he strips your clothes off.

• from this point it takes a lick and a wild kiss before he turns you onto your hands and feet. He will give you plenty of bites and nibbles then he mounts you and he will not hold back, penetrating you fast and without warning. His thrusts are also hard and fast. He will grunt and growl a lot into your ear as well as holding you by the throat dominating you. He loves to hear you moan loudly begging for more from his manhood.

• he will leave a visible mark of a bite on you when he comes

• certainly Dalmatian will have his way with you multiple times at night.

#one piece #viceadmiral #one piece marines #marines #navyhq #marineford #anime #onepiece #vice admiral dalmatian #vice admiral yamakaji #one piece x y/n #one piece x reader

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wttcsms · 3 months ago

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short n' sweet welcome to wttcsms' 2024 kinktober !! inspired by sabrina carpenter's latest (ovulation) album, this is a collection featuring fics that are, just like the song inspo, short, sometimes sweet, definitely horny ᡣ𐭩 ( fem!reader )

the espresso edit is . . . fun! flirty! it's featuring dynamics where you're seemingly out of reach and he can't get you out of his head. reader playing coy + he's getting desperate for you.

. ݁₊ ⊹ now he's thinkin' 'bout me every night . ݁˖ . ݁ jealous sex ! seishiro nagi┆there's nothing nagi values more than getting his rest, but thoughts of you have been keeping him wide awake at night. someone has to help him get rid of all this annoying restless energy — and it has to be you, the whole entire reason why his sleeping schedule is fucked. [releases oct. 4] + soft yandere!nagi

. ݁₊ ⊹ when they act this way (i know i got 'em) . ݁˖ . ݁ angry & rough sex ! kiyoomi sakusa┆kiyoomi sakusa is used to getting what he wants, and what he wants most right now is you. too bad you're the biggest fucking tease in the world. fine by him, though. because when he gets his hands on you — and he will — you're going to see what exactly all your thirst traps did for him. [releases oct. 5] + overstimulation

the juno edit is . . . domesticity ᡣ𐭩 newlywed life, fucking in the kitchen, "welcome back from work" blowjobs — and a raging breeding kink.

. ݁₊ ⊹ let you lock me down tonight . ݁˖ . ݁ marathon sex ! yoichi isagi┆high off of ending the soccer season with a world cup win secured, your newlywed husband showers you in all the attention he couldn't give you when he was too busy being the world's best striker. [releases oct. 11] + breeding, wet n' messy

. ݁₊ ⊹ if you love me right, then who knows? . ݁˖ . ݁ size kink ! jinchul woo┆you decide it's time to let your beloved bodyguard relax. [releases oct. 12] + breeding, roleplaying(?) domesticity

. ݁₊ ⊹ adore me, mark your territory . ݁˖ . ݁ corruption kink ! kenyu yukimiya┆after having to endure locker room conversation since his blue lock days all the way up to his pro days, yukimiya realizes that if he wants to show you just how serious he is about his thoughts on his relationship with you, he needs to make his mark on you. [releases oct. 25] + dark(ish) content, virginity loss [both you + yukimiya], you two attended the same private catholic high school, mentions of purity culture, manipulative!yuki, coercion, very naive reader, talks of marriage, breeding

the bed chem edit is . . . sexual tension. it's being in an enclosed space with each other immediately after the two of you just had the nastiest wet dreams about each other.

. ݁₊ ⊹ come right on me (i mean camaraderie!) . ݁˖ . ݁ praise kink ! tetsurou kuroo┆starting a new job is scary, especially when it seems like you can't do anything correctly. good thing that your manager is always so kind and reassuring and supportive. when a client meeting ends terribly and runs so late that the two of you have to check into a hotel to spend the night, your sweet manager knows a good way to cheer you up... [releases oct. 18] + oh no!!! there's only one bed!!!, work senpai!kuroo (im sorry, you do call him senpai on occasion), sex in an enclosed, semi-public space (the office's storage closet)

. ݁₊ ⊹ talk so sweet when you're doin' bad things . ݁˖ . ݁ sex pollen ! soshiro hoshina┆after narrowly avoiding a kaiju attack unharmed, you think you’ve gotten away unscathed until you start feeling an unfamiliar, unsatiable heat building inside of you. it’s almost similar to the funny butterflies you get in your tummy when you see your older brother’s rival, third division vice captain soshiro hoshina. and wouldn’t you know it: you just so happen to cross paths with him. [releases oct. 19] + love confessions, forbidden romance-ish, narumi’s younger+civilian sister!reader, soft dom!hoshina, biting [look at his lil fangs, he HAS to be a biter], getting caught by narumi at the end

#haikyuu x reader #blue lock x reader #kn8 x reader #solo leveling x reader #smut #yoichi isagi x reader #seishiro nagi x reader #kiyoomi sakusa x reader #jinchul woo x reader #kenyu yukimiya x reader #tetsurou kuroo x reader #soshiro hoshina x reader

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scaramouche-bully · 4 years ago

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can i req fem!sub / if you want gender neutral is ok, about being brat on the bed? and (seperate) kaeya, diluc ,xiao &childe respond on it?

— ☆ Bratty Sub headcanons

Includes: Kaeya, Diluc, Xiao, and Childe

[ Sub ] Gender-neutral reader

Contains: Bratty sub, riding, dacryphilia, humiliation, rough sex, switching, coming untouched, dirty talk, degradation, choking, slut shaming, stomach bulge, masocism, minor blood, drooling + dumfication.

— ☆ Wrecking headcanons - Childe 🐏 [ Female ]

[ masterlist ]

Apologies for the long delay. It’s been busy.

I’ve updated my rules to limit requests to two or fewer characters as to not overwhelm myself. But since this request was before the change, I will write all four. For future requesters, please stick to two characters.

— ☆ Kaeya

As soon as you talk back to him, he gives you most amused but pitiful look you’ve ever seen. He takes a moment to chuckle under his breath before he’s hoisting you up onto his lap, leaning his cheek on his hand, and gestures for you to continue.

You must think you’re so cute right now. Suddenly thinking that you’re in charge? Alright, if you want to be on top then go. He won’t do anything. Let’s see how long it’ll take for you to start whining.

He loves the flustered look you get when he suddenly gives into your demands. The brave face you try and put on as you slowly ease onto his thick cock and the frustrated whimpers you try and hide.

It’s only when you start apologizing that he disapprovingly sighs as he grips your hips, so hard that bruises will appear the next day, and slams you down on his cock.

“Talking back to me when you can’t even fuck yourself on my cock properly. What am I going to do with you?” he grunts out as your walls tighten around him and you scrabble to hold onto him, “You’re going to take every drop of my cum until your hole is stuffed got it? Aren’t I kind? Go on, thank me.”

“T-Thank..mm! Yo-You -ahh! More, ah! ” you stammer out as you claw at Kaeya’s back as he forcefully lifts you and drops you on his cock. The heavy drag of his dick against your sensitive spots is maddening that muddle your head. Every time Kaeya thrusts in you feel the breath get punched out of your lungs, the skin of your abdomen stretch and burn as you try and make room for his cock. You don’t realize that you’re crying out to him as you sob into his shoulder.

“Look at you, does that hurt? Too bad. Maybe if you didn’t act like such a brat I would be a lot nicer,” he laughs as he viciously grabs your hair and lifts your tear stained face up “Maybe I should take a picture so I can show everyone in Mondstadt what a slut you are?”

He drops your face harshly as he grips your wrists and pulls your hands behind you before he flips you both over so he’s on top of you. Your arms are at an awkward angle that strain them but when he suddenly starts pounding into you with the new leverage, whatever complaints you have are quickly replaced with moans. You mewl at the idea, your friends and family seeing how much of a wreck Kaeya can make you. It makes you burn in humiliation at the idea and you know that Kaeya would do it in a heartbeat. It’s that thought that has you cumming as Kaeya curses and buries himself as deep as he can go, painting your insides with his cum. While you’re catching your breath, Kaeya swipes at the cum that leaked out of your hole as he brings his cum stained fingers to your mouth.

“Open up,” he says, his voice sweet even as he pry’s your mouth open for you. You, naturally, bite his fingers but also lick him clean. It makes his star pupils dilate as he takes in the image before shoving his fingers into the back of your throat so you choke, “You’re so cute. It seems I have a lot to teach you about manners brat.”

— ☆ Diluc

Diluc has to deal with too many problematic issues given to him by incompetent people. It’s weeks like these when his patience runs extremely thin, even when he tries to suppress his temper.

Naturally, these are your favourite weeks to irk the man. To see just how much you can get away with and how far you can push his limits. From walking around with barely any clothes to flirting with the Knights that attend Angel Share.

Diluc is used to your...mannerisms. That is until Kaeya appears and he’s already glaring at you before you can make a move. Don’t you dare even try it unless you don’t want to walk the next day.

It takes one touch on your waist from Kaeya for Diluc to snap. He’s closing the bar early and even the drunkards can tell Diluc is pissed. Kaeya blows you a kiss and a wave over the shoulder to Diluc as he locks the door behind him.

Diluc manhandles you to the bar counter until you’re bent over with your wrists pinned behind your back. You can feel the anger radiate off Diluc as you peer over your shoulder at him. While he has a calm face, his eyes are feral as he adjusts his glove. That’s the only warning you get before he slips his hand to the front of your neck and squeezes with a vice grip.

“D-Dil-” you cough out before you’re cut with a yelp by Diluc forcefully shoving your pants down as he shoves his fingers in, gloves still on, and stretch's your hole out.

“Pathetic, you’re already this wet and I haven’t even done anything. Are you going to make a mess over my floors? You know what’ll happen if you do,” Diluc sneers as he arches your back and brings your face next to his, “Do you like being choked? Is that it? You filthy whore getting off on being used like this.”

“Hah..haha...Ka-Kaeya is nn-- oh is rough-er!” you manage to wheeze out as you stick your tongue out at Diluc. He still wears that same neutral expression but you can see something dark swirl in his eyes. He mumbles out, is that so? Before he slams you back down onto the counter top. You’re a bit dazed from the impact that you don’t hear the rustle of clothes, a belt unbuckling, before you’re being rammed into by Diluc’s cock. Your hands are scrabbling onto the countertop for some type of purchase as Diluc wastes no time and abuses your sensitive walls.

“You’re. Mine.” Each word is punctuated by a deep thrust into you, “No one can fuck you like I can. Not those useless knights. Not Kaeya. Not anyone. Got it?”

You’re dumb on the pleasure of his cock rearranging your insides that you don’t respond that Diluc clicks his tongue, bends down, and sinks his teeth into your neck. An area he knows you can’t hide with your clothes and it’s too hot to be wearing a scarf without making it obvious to what’s happening now. The burst of pain is enough to send you over the edge and orgasm on his cock. Diluc curses under his breath at your walls tightening around him as he cum inside you as he catches his breath.

“Answer me when I ask you a question.”

“Y-Yes sir...you’re the only one. Only you. Always you...”

Your words manage to sooth him a little bit but it irks him that you’re drooling all over his countertop that he just cleaned. It’s fine, he thinks, he can make you lick it up later.

— ☆ Xiao

He's a puppy that wants to impress you, but everyone has a breaking point. The constant taunting of how, despite being a powerful adepti, he can’t even pleasure a mortal in bed sends something feral inside him ablaze.

He doesn’t want to hurt you so he focuses his efforts into fucking you so good that you end up babbling praises instead. It makes him feel so warm inside when he sees your normally smug face turn dumb as you tell him he’s doing so well.

It’s the only time you can ask Xiao to be more rough with you without him worrying about breaking you. It’s so cute to you that he tries so hard that you can’t help but tease him a bit.

“Good boy Xiao. You’re doing so well,” you whisper against Xiao’s lips as you softy kiss him. You’re finally seated on his cock with his fingers are digging into your sides, strong enough to leave marks. It took a bit of coaxing from you to get Xiao to release the death grip he had on the sheets and to move his hands to your waist. If you didn’t see hand prints or bruises the next day, you were going to make this man cry. You slowly rock back and forth as you softly moan at the feeling of his cock inside you as you make small bounces.

“Don’t you feel good?” you ask as you take one of his hands off your waist and lead his fingers to your hole where you’re both connected. Lacing your fingers together as you force him to jerk off the small length of his cock that appears every bonce you make, “Come on. Go faster. Show me what an adeptus can do.”

“A-Are you sure?” Xiao stammers out as he looks up at you worried. His grip on your body slackens considerably as you sigh before cupping his cheeks.

“Xiao. Are you saying you can’t? Is it too much for someone of the adepti? What a let down you are, if you can’t do it then I’ll go find someone that cAN-!” you choke on your words as Xiao suddenly slams you on your back and drives his cock to the hilt. This time he’s taking your hand in his as he places your linked hands onto your stomach so you can feel his cock wrecking your insides through your stomach.

“W-Wait! Xiao! Ah-!”

He pulls out harshly only to slam back in desperately as he rutts against you. His cock is practically gushing pre-come as he slowly loses his sense of rhythm. A deep feral part inside him relishes in the fact that it’s his cock that makes you like this. Pupils blown wide, head thrown back, tongue lolling out. As much as it makes your entire body tremble at the onslaught of pleasure, you can’t help but let a small delirious smile appear on your face. You reach out and cling onto him, digging your nails in so deep that he bleeds, and tell him to fuck you stupid. That he’s doing such a good job and to not stop.

“I love you, I love you, I love you” he chants as he grinds his cock into you as he cums inside and fills you with his cum. The rush of warmth has you orgasming with him. Your linked hands still on your stomach where his cum paints your walls.

— ☆ Childe

He really likes switching half way during your fucking. As soon as you’ve had your fill being on top, he’s switching the roles. He might have been crying and begging you to let him cum a few seconds ago but now it’s his time to payback.

Due to the abrupt switch, you’re still high on your ride and refuse to let his child take control. He loves how feral you both get in your attempts to dominate the other.

When he finally manages to pin you down, the blood of the scratches and bite marks are still stinging but the pain get’s him rock hard. It’s like any other fight and the feeling of victory gives him a rush.

He wastes no time in pounding into you, watching you scream as you curse him out as him laughing, leaning over to kiss you as he proceeds to rail you.

He knows as soon as he kisses you, you’re biting his lips raw. The taste of blood makes him smirk against your own mouth and he feels your exasperated sigh at his kinks. It’s a small moment of respite as you both make out without trying to claw each other’s eyes out. When you finally separate for air, there’s a red line of saliva linking your mouths together that breaks when Childe sits up and wipes his mouth.

“A bit eager are we?” he taunts as his fingers run over your skin, covered in his hand prints as marks, before settling on your hip. He doesn’t need to look to know his body isn’t any different. He better hope that he doesn’t need to change his shirt in front of the anyone or else they’ll suspect he went and fought a bear again. A cruel laugh escapes you as you reach up and drag him back down to your level as you whisper in his ear.

“It’s a pity fuck Tartaglia.”

There’s a pause as Childe registers what you said before a switch flips off in his head. He lets out a low growl as he flips you onto your stomach and rams his cock into you. He relishes in the wail you let out as he grips your neck to pin your head onto the bed as he rails you into the mattress. You’re so tight around him that he has to forcefully drag his cock out just to thrust back in. He doesn’t understand how you can stay so tight even after all the rounds you both had previously.

“You, ngh--ah! b...hah...bastard!” you gasp out and you claw at the sheets as his cock fucks you so well. He slams in so deep that has you spasming with each and every thrust.

“Behave now,” he hisses out as he bites down on the back of neck as he muffles his moans as he cums inside you. Feeling him spill inside you sends a shudder of pleasure through your body that has your withering on his cock as you cum alongside him. When you’ve both caught your breath is when you elbow him in the stomach and knock him backwards so you’re back on top. He can tell you’re pissed and he’s never felt more excited.

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bigdumbbambieyes · 2 years ago

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Billy and Max sibling content owns my heart rn and I wanted to do some justice or a small fix-it for them post S3 if Billy survived. this is more one-sided sibling content since it’s mostly Max reflecting on things, but then Steve fucking Harrington wormed his way into this and now I’m thinking about how Max and Billy’s relationship could have an effect on Steve and Billy’s and vice versa. consider this a part one because i will write a part 2 or 3 if even one person expresses interest 😂

Max & Billy, Steve Harrington, post-S3 hurt/comfort

tw hospital atmosphere, mention of tracheotomy for ventilator use, mention of feeding tube, mention of wounds

@black-wolf066 i feel like you’d maybe appreciate this? we both want more Billy and Max sibling content and I am nothing if not a provider, so…🤍

————

Max is at the hospital for the rest of the summer after Starcourt. Not because she needs to be, she’s mostly fine, but she wants to be there - and if she doesn’t, who’s going to visit Billy?

She gets Steve to drop her off every time her mom can’t, and she figures that maybe he feels guilty because he never says ‘no’.

Not guilty enough to come up and see Billy, though.

Not like there’s much to see, she supposes. Billy’s been in a coma ever since he was pulled from the mall, actually declared dead for a few minutes before they’d managed to revive him and immediately put him under. She still can’t decide if she’s happy or not that he survived.

But, despite the complexity of her emotions and feelings, she knows one thing: she wants to be there for him. He was shitty to her and she was shitty back, but he didn’t deserve what had happened to him. Maybe.

The way he’d begged and sobbed in that hot sauna still haunts her. She’d wanted to help but she had no idea how to, not when the Mindflayer had its claws sunk so deep into Billy. She hadn’t thought it possible to get him back, until she’d seen it herself, but even then it was too late. All she could do was cry over his body, wanting so desperately for him to get up, because he was strong. He worked out every day, he could do it, it should’ve been so easy—

“Hey - we’re here.”

Blinking out of her thoughts, Max glanced out of the window to see the familiar building before looking back over at her driver.

Steve is, as usual, biting the inside of his cheek and looking at her a little funny. Like he’s trying to figure her out.

“Oh,” she clears her throat with a nod, “Yeah, thanks. My mom can pick me up after her shift, so…”

“So you don’t need a ride back. Got it.”

Their relationship isn’t much. They’ve been through things together, yeah, but they’re not close. Not like him and Dustin, at least. But they’re close enough for Steve to understand that these visits to the hospital are important to her.

She offers him a tiny smile in thanks before climbing out, shutting the door and giving a wave before going in, shouldering her backpack as she does.

The sterile scent is always a little nauseating. Clean, sharp, invading. But it’s familiar now, and she takes the stairs up to that same room she frequents, listening to the sound of her shoes gently squeaking in the quiet hallways.

Room 211.

The beeping of the heart monitor greets her first as she pushes the door in, leaving it wide open as she goes into the room and sees Billy there, still asleep and still breathing thanks to the machines around and in him.

“Hey,” she says softly as she goes over to her usual spot: in the brown chair beside his bed, her back to the window. She shoulders off her bag and sits, placing the bag between her legs as she takes a moment to look at him, searching for any minute differences.

But there’s nothing. His eyelashes are longer than before, though. His blond hair is the same, maybe needs a wash. His skin is still a little pale, even with his summer tan. His lips are dry. His jaw is rough with stubble.

He’s still Billy, even with the tube in his neck and nose and the wounds healing under thick gauze.

“I, um…brought some music,” she says as she unzips her bag and pulls out her walkman, along with a few of his favourite tapes, “Don’t be mad, but I did go into your room to get these…” she mutters as she pulls out the tape from the Black Sabbath case and shoves it into her walkman. She places the headphones carefully next to his head on the pillow and presses ‘play’, turning the volume up just enough for the music to flow out through the soft spongey speakers.

Ensuring the walkman is settled on the bed next to Billy’s hand, she digs into her backpack again, pulling out her homework this time. It’s easier to get it done here than at home, and sometimes she likes to ask Billy if he knows the answer to some of her math equations - it makes her giggle, in a slightly twisted way. She’s sure he would appreciate the joke.

And she likes to pretend that this is quality time with her brother. That they’re bonding. And it’s fucking pathetic and sad as hell, but it’s better than nothing. Better than what they had before.

The thought makes her pause, her hands gripping her notebook tight as her bottom lip quivers. Her eyes prick with tears. Her cheek warm. The lump forms in her throat.

Here it comes.

She can’t help it and she doesn’t bother to, not anymore. She shoves her notebook and papers aside to bury her face in the starchy hospital sheets, her sobs muffled as she grips the blanket in her hands and cries for her brother, for herself. For what she’s sorry for and what she wishes she could tell him if he were awake.

She cries so hard she doesn’t hear the first time someone clears their throat.

When she hears it the second time, she looks up at Billy, her face wet and hot and full of hope until she sees him still asleep. She glances over at the door and feels shame wash over her.

Steve looks just as embarrassed and uncomfortable, his expression twisted to show it, and he mumbles, “Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” she mutters even though it’s not.

“Should…” he makes an almost funny attempt to step back and forth, totally and clearly unsure of how to proceed, “Should I go?”

And she wants to say ‘yes’. She wants to tell Steve to leave, to get out, because this is her time with her brother and she’s clearly grieving something bigger than her - but then she realizes that Steve is here. In Billy’s hospital room. He had to sign in as a visitor downstairs, under Billy Hargrove.

Billy’s first non-familial visitor in the almost three weeks he’s been here.

So, she shakes her head ‘no’ and watches him step further into the room, those big brown eyes peeking at Billy and widening as he sees the machines her brother is hooked up to.

“Oh,” he blinks, his lips parted in shock, and she wants to laugh at him but she doesn’t.

Instead, she wipes the tears from her cheeks and sniffles wetly, resting her chin on top of her hands as she eyes her brother with Steve, watching Billy’s damaged chest slowly move up and down with the ventilator.

“Sometimes I just sit here and, um,” she wipes at her nose, pausing as she furrows her brows, “I read somewhere that sleep…heals your body. It wipes away all the ‘bad’ stuff in it. So, when I’m here, like this, I just…imagine his blood cells cleaning up his lungs and heart and stomach and wherever they need to.”

She glances over at Steve, who has this unreadable expression on his face, and she laughs wryly, “I know it’s stupid.”

“It’s not stupid,” Steve insists quietly.

“It is,” she smirks, but there’s nothing behind it - no malice, no amusement, no sarcasm, nothing. She’d learned that from Billy. “But, it helps. I like to think he’s getting better, rather than just…wasting away on this bed with tubes stuck in him.”

They fall into silence again, the sounds of the machines doing little to swallow up the sound of Black Sabbath playing through the headphones, which Steve hears.

“You play music? For him?” He asks curiously, hovering at the foot of Billy’s bed now, his eyes trained on the walkman.

She nods and wipes at her face as she straightens in her seat, “Yeah. I don’t know if he hears it or not, but if I were to be in his place, I’d want someone to play me something. Talk to me. Be with me.”

Steve nods in agreement or understanding, maybe both, and she can’t help but to stare at him. He notices and gives her a tight smile.

“What are you doing here, anyway?” She finally asks.

The way his smile falls makes her feel a little bad, but only a little. No one gave a shit about Billy, and Steve didn’t have a good relationship with him to begin with, so to see him standing here is…strange.

And maybe Steve doesn’t know why, either, because he shoves his hands into his pockets with a small shrug, eyeing Billy again. “I, um,” he starts, brows furrowing, “I guess I’m just…curious.”

“Curious?”

“Yeah.”

“About..?”

Steve looks at her again, chewing his bottom lip as he thinks. Max knows Steve isn’t stupid. He may have his moments, sure, but he’s smart in his own way.

“I guess I’m curious about how you…go about forgiveness…and understanding,” he tilts his head towards Billy, “Him.”

Maybe she’d given him too much credit.

Her face twists a little, both in disbelief and confusion as she reiterates, “You’re standing at the foot of my unconscious brother’s hospital bed because you’re curious as to how I, his sister, forgive and understand him?”

Steve’s lips purse a little and he shifts his weight foot to foot, eyeing the ceiling with a soft sigh because she’s hit the nail on the head, so to speak.

But the question now is why?

“Why?” She asks.

Steve’s eyes widen again, a little, and he pulls out a hand to gesture weakly at Billy with it, staring right into her eyes, “Because he fucking sacrificed himself for us and I’ve spent the last three weeks wondering what the hell for?” He quasi-explains, although he does sound a bit frantic and unsure.

Max sighs and sits back in her chair, arms crossing over her chest as she looks to Billy. “That makes two of us,” she mumbles, flicking her gaze back to Steve when he goes over to the other chair by the door and pulls it over to the bed, so he’s sitting across from Max.

And then they stare at each other, for a moment. Max wonders what he might be thinking about - if he has questions or if he wants to know more about Billy, or how to move on from here, because he did mention forgiveness and understanding. And those two things are hard to get with Billy. Always have been and probably always will be.

But there’s no harm in trying.

Steve settles in his chair, deeper, like he’s getting ready to stay a while, and sighs, “So…what do you usually talk to him about?”

And she wonders how Billy will react, when he finally wakes up and she tells him that Steve Harrington was the first to visit him.

Maybe he’ll laugh. Maybe he’ll be shocked. Maybe he won’t care.

They’ll just have to wait and see.

#billy hargrove #max mayfield #steve harrington #hargrove mayfield siblings #eventual harringrove #hurt/comfort #although i don’t know how comforting this was lol #i’m so tempted to write more so maybe this is part 1 #bambiwrites

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kentosovertime · 3 years ago

Text

firefighter!toji x f!reader - 0.8k words

CW: misogyny, sexism, choking, spitting, slapping, fighting, unprotected sex, rough sex, manhandling, hate fucking, swearing, name calling, dom!reader, meandom!toji

Banner Credit: @/aikk00 on twitter

✨Kinktober Masterlist | Masterlist✨

“Get the fuck out of my way, probie!” You shove your junior to the side before rounding the corner of your superior officer’s desk as he gets up to stare down his nose at you.

Toji motherfucking Fushiguro. Captain of your company, resident sexist and piece of shit. A thorn in your side since the day he was promoted as your direct supervisor.

You seethe at him through your clenched teeth.

“What can I help you with, lieutenant?” Your sight tinges red, breaths entering your lungs rapidly in your rage. Pulling rank, how fucking typical…

You crowd him into the edge of his desk, pointing an accusing finger into the hard muscle of his toned pec. “You know exactly what the hell you did!”

“Jones?” He addresses the man you had pushed out of your way, ignoring you right in front of him, your pointer finger digging into his chest. “We’ll continue your probationary training tomorrow morning. (Y/N) here’s on her period and needs an emotional outburs-.”

He doesn’t have time to react as you haul your arm back, slapping him as hard as you can across the face. You see the redness bloom as he gently touches his check, trying to process that you actually raised a hand to him and looking off to the side as he trails just his eyes back to look down at where you’re chest to heaving rage.

You see the newbie scrambling for the door, closing it behind him as he tries to avoid the conflict unfolding in front of him.

It's your turn to reel in shock when his hand darts out to grip your cheeks in order to stop your raging comments.

“You know, princess, you’re a whole lot prettier when you keep you’re fucking mouth shut.” Toji leans in close enough to feel his breath brush across your face,

Spit flies from your mouth as you aim, hitting him dead on the cheek. A scowl gracing your features through his tight grip to communicate the displeasure with his comments.

Your jaw goes slack as he maintains eye contact, swiping up the spit with his free hand’s thumb, promptly licking it clean with a groan. You don’t know who made the first move, but the second someone snaps, your clothes are flying in every direction.

In the flurry, the two of you fall to the floor fighting for dominance, teeth gnashing as your panties are the last item to be removed.

More like shredded, landing in a heap in front of his office door.

You manage to snake a leg below his, flipping him onto his back, knocking the air from him from his lungs as you push him into the ground by his chest, placing your full weight on his shoulders to pin him as you lower yourself onto his length in one fluid motion.

Toji growls, bucking into your warm, slick heat with short punishing thrusts. He meets the frantic circling of your hips as he tries to pace himself, making sure not to get too lost in the vice grip you have around his cock.

“You hate me that much and this is all you can manage?” You taunt, suppressing the increasing need to moan out, refusing to let in even as the tip of his cock rams into the spot that has you seeing stars.

“God. Fuck-” He sneers as his hands come around your hips, fucking you down into him like a stupid little fucktoy. “I’m balls deep in you and you’re still a greedy bitch.”

Toji bites the inside of his cheek, fending off his orgasm, ignoring the sway of your tits absorbing the impact of his timed movements and the slick heat that soaks his whole lap, continuously pouring from your center.

He’s determined to have you falling over the edge, submitting to him completely. You topple forward, caging his face in between your arms as he fucks up into you with earnest, bringing his legs up so he can thrust into you fully, bouncing you up and down on his fat cock.

“Give in, sweetheart.” He grins wildly has he watches your trembling body, seeing your eyes cross and roll back above him. “Just like that, bitch. Scream for me.”

“Fuck- ah! C-captain!” You spasm violently around him, letting with a desperate scream heard throughout the bunk house, desperate to douse the white hot need settling deep into your bones.

The unconscious slip of his title over you has him exploding within you with a hiss as your nails bite into his skin before falling limp against him with a whimper.

“Is this all it takes to get you to shut the fuck up for once?” A hand comes down to smack across your blissed out face. “What a desperate, cunt.”

tag list: @sugarbooger513 @sugarmapoops @roughwithfluff @severelytalentless @yelzoldyck @silversslut @aazaard @dreamyyholland @wobblewobble822 @vantastic210

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junisfics · 4 years ago

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Hate Fucking ft Eren Jaeger (Day XV)

Focus: Hate Fucking

Warnings: Smut / Nsfw 18 + (Rough Sex), Brief Violence (Blood, Asphyxiation)

Word Count: 2k

You could kill him.

That impulsive, hate ridden, destructive maniac. You want to rip his throat out with your teeth.

Your jaw is clenched tightly, eyebrows furrowed together in anger, as you sit beside Sasha and across from Connie. They chatter nonsense as you eye him down from across the room.

Just hours ago he had taken out all his pent up anger by mercilessly insulting you after your defeat during training. Although wasn't for the reason one would think.

He had you pinned to grass bare dirt, knee pressing into your right arm and opposite foot pressing painfully into your right wrist. The tendons in your forearms rapping up against the sole of his shoe like the strings on a guitar.

His knife held against your throat, every swallow you take causing it to bob gently. His other hand bracing him up by the ground beside your skull, preventing him from sitting on your upper stomach.

"Get off me." You spit, writhing beneath his unexpectedly heavy body.

You speak with your eyes boring into his own. His brows knit together, beads of sweat trailing down his dirt covered face.

"You couldn't even give it your best for me?! You're going easy?! Piece of shit!" He practically growls, pushing the knife further against your quivering throat to enunciate the expletive.

He hates the way you distract him. Never did it cross his mind that you didn't give him your all, it was only the most convincing excuse he could come up with. He despises you for the way your innocent eyes glint as you look at him, and he hates you more for the uncertain lust that lures behind them as he has you pinned beneath him.

"Eren, I'm not - I didn't - get - you're hurting me,"

Recklessly, he throws the knife aside, causing the blade to slit a shallow cut against the fragile skin of your neck. It stings, assumingly more than a deeper cut would have. His large hand replaces the blade, his sweat poisons the wound and sending harsh waves of prickly pain through your body, he squeezes... hard.

Pathetic croaks slip under his palm and past your lips, blood rushing to your face and a deep buzz filling your ears.

Your limbs flail in response, desperately trying to shake him off.

His nose is scrunched, teeth grit into a snarl, face inches away from yours as he alternates the pressure on your neck.

Hard, bruising, enough to threaten unconscious, but before that can happen his grip goes soft enough to give you a moment of uninterrupted breaths. All the time while looking into your fearful eyes, like he's waiting for the light to go out.

You hated the way your body heated up under his dominance. You can't blame yourself, who wouldn't feel at least a twinge of excitement when pressed that closely up against a guy that attractive.

"Eren - p - please, I can't - I" You're voice is hoarse, tears flooding your vision.

He's tackled off. You sit up quickly, hands go flying to your abused throat, clutching and clawing at it mindlessly as you swallow heavy gulps of air. Sasha's by your side, squatting back on her calves with an arm thrown around your heaving shoulders.

Connie throws violent punches to Eren's face as he presses his skull into the dirt with his other hand.

His face bruised, Connie's fist split open a gash in his cheekbone. His pretty green eyes surrounded by popped blood vessels.

You admire his wounds from your table, completely disregarding your dinner and pushing it to Sasha. You go as far as thinking he's pretty... when his mouth is shut. Such a shame that such a handsome face is attached to a shitty person.

"Connie took care of him, y/n, he won't bother you again." Sasha says through the bread stuffing her mouth.

"He's just... an angry person."

***

You shower off the emulsion of sweat and blood that's covering your skin. Scrubbing so harshly with the tattered rag that red welts leave in its wake. The gash on your throat pulses and stings but your glad it's clean.

The itchy fabric of your shirt clings to your damp skin, the now cold water in your hair drips down your your chest as you squeeze it in your fist to wring it out. Legs guiding you back to your room.

Before you can completely retreat, the door gets pushed open as you attempt to close it.

"Hey -" Your mouth shuts immediately.

Eren enters shamelessly, shutting the door behind him as you back away slowly. Your heart wracks against your chest, breath caught once again in your throat no thanks to him.

He's come to finish you off, he's got you alone and now he's come to pummel you into next year.

His hand grips your jaw to avoid the slit on your throat, pressing your cheeks together so your lips pucker ever so slightly. You reach up to his wrist, reaching for sinewy muscle that strains under his grasp.

His eyes look down to you, a dangerous look passing through them momentarily. His face too close for comfort, his hot breath passing through his grit teeth and fanning over your face.

He walks forward, sending you stumbling back against the closed door.

You feel embarrassingly helpless before him. You pray he can't feel the shaking in your legs.

If he starts getting violent will someone know? Will someone hear? Would there be anyone to stop him this time?

"I fucking hate you." He spits, leaning against you and resting his palm against the wood of the door beside your head, "I think about killing you every fucking day we're stuck in this stupid cottage."

Your stomach turns at his words, but you have no courage to speak out against him. Something inside you tells you to listen to him... to wait.

"You drive me insane"

"Eren -" You speak through puckered lips, one hand holding his wrist and the other pushing against his chest.

Whimpers leave your mouth, desperate cries for him to release you, leave you, apologize, something.

"Fuck - " His voice falters for a moment and his jaw slacks as he glances down to the floor, "Do you know what you do?"

His eyes meet yours, the gears in your head begin to turn. They're softer this time, apologetic.

"I - I don't - please, Eren - I don't know what - "

"Stop begging, fucking stop," He closes his eyes tightly as the hand on the door drops to the field of skin between your neck and shoulder.

He squeezes tightly, desperately trying to restrain himself.

"You're so god damn lucky my need for you is stronger then my hate." His face gets too close to quickly, leaning down so your noses are a breath apart, "because I hate you so fucking much."

It's not your stomach that turns within itself this time, it's something else... something lower. All of a sudden his grip is erotic and his body heat is radiating onto yours in all the right places. He's so close, the tension is straining.

"I - I'm - " You're stupid. You can't even think. Your entire body short circuits.

"Let me have you." He begs, voice needy and dropping octaves lower.

He begs.

You mouth drops open as arousal sparks deep inside you. A shudder wracks your body at his words.

"I know you want it. I see it. G - god, fuck, please y/n." Both hands come to hold your face in his hands, "I hate the things you do to me."

His hips stutter forward against your stomach and you can feel him, hard, throbbing in his pants. A whine escapes your lips.

It's pathetic... embarassing... how much you want him. How much you want the man that constantly dances on your last nerve to take you in his strong hands.

"I hate you." Your voice is weak and unconvincing to both him and you.

His mouth takes yours, swallowing your whimpers and flooding you with him. You taste him on your tongue, dull taste of mint toothpaste and herbal tea. You're drunk for it. Hands gripping at the collar of his shirt to pull his toned body flush against you. It's borderline violent, his tongue drinking in your breathy moans and teeth biting at your lips.

You need him. You need this. You need this feeling, this tension, flooded out of your system and gone for good. You want it fucked out of you.

You push against his neck to give you enough space to mumble against his soft lips, "I need you to fuck me, fuck me as hard as you hate me, please."

His cock twitches, jaw dropping at your desperation. A groan choked up in his throat.

You lick at his open mouth and he takes it in his mouth and sucks on it. Never, never in your entire life would you have thought your cunt would flutter around nothing due to someone taking your tongue in their mouth.

He lowers himself into a squat, taking the waistband of your sleeping pants and dragging them down your thighs, biting at the supple skin that's revealed. His calloused hands hold onto your legs as he licks a broad stripe up your inner left leg all the way up to your hip bone.

You let out a breathy moan as he kitten licks at your clit through your panties.

"No, please, I need you - need your cock." You plead and he lets out a curse as he stands.

You kiss him again. Hands grabbing at his torso to get a hold on the waistline of his pants. He follows you, using one hand to press your chest against the door and the other pushing his clothes down his thighs just enough so his aching cock is freed.

Roughly, he grips the backs of your thighs and hoists them around his waist. Cock slipping between your bodies and brushing against your clothed cunt. Pushing you high enough up the door to take his length in his hand, you pull your panties to the side. His tip teases your entrance. You're sheathed onto his length, filthily moaning out as his cock drags across your walls.

"Fucking shit." He groans into your neck, "You're so wet, you're so fucking wet."

It's overwhelming. The flexing of his muscles underneath your grip, his low groans against your skin followed by open mouth kisses. You bite down on your lip, walls fluttering around his throbbing cock in reaction to his words.

"Oh my god, y/n. Did you just cum?"

You did.

You're cunt gripping his dick like a vice. You came just as he buried himself to the hilt. His tip kissing your cervix gently.

"Give me another." You beg, fisting his shirt tighter in your fist.

You're fucked into the door, shirt riding up as you're dragged up and down the both literal and figurative wood.

"You - Eren - you're so big." Your grip on his shoulders is bruising, arms wrap around his neck and forehead falling against his, mouth open in heavy pants.

"You're so pretty like this. God, you have no idea how long I've wanted to see you like this. How long I've been conflicted by you. I've fucked my hand to your pretty face every fucking night wishing it was your cunt."

You can't believe it. This whole time he hasn't hated you for anything you've done... he's hated you because he was hating the way you made him feel. You're cunt throbs around him at the mere thought.

"And now... fuck - fuck - just like that - now I have you... and my cock is inside you and not my fucking fist."

You came harder then you ever have before, head slamming back against the door and legs shaking as you suck him in and milk him dry. He slams you down one more time onto his cock and holds you there, throbbing inside you.

#eren jaeger smut #eren jaeger x reader #eren jaeger #aot smut #twenty five days of smut #eren yeager x reader #eren yeager smut #tw: blood #eren x reader #eren jaeger x reader smut #eren yeager x reader smut #eren smut #3k

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yunopouts · 3 years ago

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peachy - j. jaehyun

-> jeong jaehyun x fem! reader [established relationship!]

-> era! save era (specifically June 3rd 2021, the mafia vlive cause he looked so fucking good i would have literally let him fuck me on the floor )

-> fluff, smut

-> w: cursing, unprotected sex (wrap before you tap), creampie, breeding kink, fingering

-> a/n: this was supposed to be called 'peaches n cream' but that sounds gross :D this was also supposed to be a drabble of soft sex but it turned out to be kind of kinky and for that i am sorry

She’s back ;)

“Babe, babe, babe, babe, babe, bae-'' you called from inside your bedroom.

“Yes?” The brown haired boy moved his eyes up from his phone, staring at your head that had poked through the space of the open door.

“Come, come, come here; I have something to show you.” you beamed. Hearing the creak of the leather and his soft sigh, your heart begins to race and you wonder if he’ll enjoy what you bought the other day when you went to the mall.

“Yes- oh, jeez… what are you doing?” he flinched back when you covered his eyes and led him to the edge of the bed.

“Hush, it’s a surprise.” you giggled, “Keep your eyes closed until I tell you to open them, okay?”

“Uh-huh.” the boy answered dryly, but squeezed his eyes tightly nonetheless, all while you made your way in front of him.

“Okay, and open!”

When his vision cleared, the first thing Jaehyun saw was you, standing pantless and proud directly in front of him. Even though you stood silently with a wide smile, you were practically screaming the words ‘look at me!’. Your boyfriend quickly averted his gaze to whatever it was on you that looked glossy whenever the light hit it, a smile forming on his lips as soon as he realized what it was.

“You bought peach underwear.” you bit your bottom lip as you grinned when Jaehyun met your eyes. The boy giggled, placing his hands on the side of your thighs, once you had moved closer.

Leaning in, he pressed a kiss to your stomach, then another one hip bone, along with a last one above the center lining— looking up at you while doing so.

Your hands raked through his hair while he kneaded your ass, planting more soft kisses on you.

“On or off?” You asked. Jaehyun's eyes met yours as his teeth scratched at your skin, tugging at the material of your panties and letting it snap back against you.

“They were a present for me, so shouldn’t I thank you by fucking you with them on?” A cocky smile stretched on his lips as he pulled you down into his lap. Chuckling into a kiss, your fingers curled in his soft brown hair as he moved your hips against his growing erection.

Letting out a soft moan, your head fell back while Jaehyun kissed down your neck, adding in a few bites here and there. “Jae, please…”

Hearing your request, your boyfriend quickly changed your position so he could be hovering above you. “Move up for me, baby.” The boy smirked, guiding you with a hand on your waist as you brought yourself to the top of the bed.

A gasp left your mouth when you suddenly felt a pair of fingers slip underneath the cloth of your panties. “You’re so wet for me already.” Jaehyun giggled as he prodded at your hole with two fingers. Slowly pushing them in, your boyfriend thrust them a few times before pulling them out.

Whining in annoyance, you almost snapped your legs closed around his neck, but with a firm hand on your upper thigh, Jaehyun pushed them back open again. “Look at this.” he said, pulling out from your hole, only to spread his fingers and watch your arousal rope together. He beamed as he played with your wetness a little more before popping his fingers into his mouth, sucking them clean. “Tastes good.” The wink he sent you drove you insane, more than his teasing.

You were about to cry out when the words were taken right out of your mouth, the feeling of something filling you replaced them with a gasp.

Three fingers full, you kissed Jaehyun when he appeared hovering above you. His tongue swiped over yours and pushed it farther down as both the kiss and his fingers deepened. Jaehyun’s fingers found the familiar rough patch within your warm walls and pressed on it, almost making you bite down on his tongue.

“Fuck,” you mewled as your boyfriend repeatedly tapped the spot. “Jae— gonna cum.” Your brows furrowed as your face screwed up in pleasure.

Leaning down, Jaehyun nibbled at your ear, softly whispering dirty praises to you as his fingers moved roughly to aid you in reaching your high.

Your hips rolled as you rode out your orgasm, trying to hit every last feeling before he pulled out— and whining when he did earlier than you expected.

It wasn’t long until you were filled with something else, though. Jaehyun entered you and waited until you were comfortable to start moving.

The greedier Jaehyun got, the rougher he moved, pussy sucking him in and making him want to feel you deeper.

Sounds of skin against skin and your moans bounced off the walls of your room and Jaehyun’s head, urging him to move faster.

“You feel so good baby,” he rasped, enjoying the heat of your palm on the back of his neck as you gripped him for stability. “I’m gonna fuck you so full of my cum,” Jaehyun mumbled before groaning as you clenched at the thought. “Like that idea?” He smirked lazily. “Want me to fill you so full you get pregnant? You’re gonna look so fucking hot,”

The words spilled from his lips like water from a fountain and you wanted to swim in them. “Please Jaehyun, please, please, please.” You begged him over and over again, brain too fried to process anything he was saying. “I want your cum,”

And that was all he needed;

With a few more thrusts, you came, clinging to him like he was the only thing holding you down. Clenching around him as he rammed into you made his hips stutter and spill his cum into you— loving how your vice grip milked his cock.

“God, you’re so fucking full,” Jaehyun mumbled, slowly fucking his spilling seed back into you.

You gasped when he pulled out once again, but reached for him when he flopped down beside you. With his arm wrapped around you, the two of you breathed heavily- the post nut clarity finally hitting you.

“I didn’t even notice we’re still wearing shirts.” Jaehyun said, picking up the material that stuck to your damp skin. You laughed in response, tiredly bringing your hand under his own shirt and resting it against his abs. “You’re still on the pill right?” He asked.

“Would’ve made you pull out if I weren’t.” You replied with a sigh, tracing a pattern into his skin.

“You’re so smart.” He kissed the top of your head, snuggling you further into him.

“I know.” Jaehyun snorted as your response.

“Thank you for the gift.”

“I’m glad you liked them.”

#nct 127 #nct #jeong jaehyun #smut #nct smut #neoturtles #nshitty frathouse #jaehyun smut #nct 127 smut #jeong jaehyun smut

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slasherbaby · 3 years ago

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Call Me [read on ao3 or under the cut! ♡]

Pairing: Danny Johnson x Trans Masc reader (he/him pronouns)

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: smut, very mild breeding kink, knifeplay, cock/cunt used to describe the reader’s junk

Length: 4676 words

“Fuck,” Danny grunted into the phone, his voice low and forced. From sound alone, you can tell how he’s holding himself. It doesn’t take much imagination to envision the way his jaw strained, his eyebrows pulled down in the middle. “Wanna slide right into that cunt, fuck. Know you’d be so wet, such a fucking slut for me.”

Historically speaking, you’ve never been into dirty talk. It always sounded stiff, the guy talking to you usually too unsure of himself to sound even remotely sexy. But god, did it feel different with Danny. His deep voice, the rough edge around each syllable, and the naturally monotone way he spoke has always been enough to drive you crazy, ever since the first ‘hello.’

“Maybe I’d suck on that pretty fucking cock too, gotta make sure my baby’s nice and hard before I fuck him, right?”

It’s easy to picture how he’d look, looking up at you with his dark, dilated eyes. Holding your gaze as he worked your cock in his mouth. You bite down on your lower lip, stifling a groan at the sparks of pain that follow.

The laugh that comes through the receiver is rough and hoarse, sending a shiver of delight up your spine. “Don’t hide from me, angel. I already know how much of a whore you are,” Another laugh rasps through. “Everyone knows how you act at the bar after a few drinks, fucking brat. Drooling for attention, dancing around like you’re asking for it. Giving a show to everyone.”

“Yours,” You gasp, your voice just a touch away from sounding desperate. It’s the truth, afterall, but Danny already knows it. You both know that he’s the only one you’d let touch you, the only one you want to touch you. “Just yours.”

“And don’t fucking forget it.” Danny’s voice drops into a growl, making you whimper. “I’m the only one who gets you like this. You’re fucking mine, baby. Mine and mine alone.”

Another gasp falls from your lips, nodding your head even though you know he can’t see. Your cock is hard and aching, but you move your fingers away from where you’ve been circling it, going lower and lower until you reach your entrance.

“Danny…” You groan, squeezing your eyes shut as you wait for him to keep talking, to keep bringing you closer to the edge.

“You’ve got no idea how crazy it makes me to see how people look at you. Makes me wanna put a collar on you, fucking let everyone know who you belong to.” There’s a grunt from the other side of the phone, slick noises punctuating every breath Danny takes. “Or maybe the next time you wanna act like a whore, I’ll make you wear that little red dress in your closet. You know the one, don’t you?”

You groan out a noise of confirmation, chest swelling up when he hums in approval.

“I’ll bring you out to Walleyes with me after work, and I’ll fuck you in the bathroom. I know how dirty sluts like you want it, don’t worry. I’ll make sure to fill you up real good before sending you off to dance. Without your panties, of course. Gotta see if you can keep my come in without it dripping out. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? I know I would. Letting everyone know how fucking good I breed my baby.”

Your hole clenches around nothing, desperately seeking out something to fill it as Danny spews filth into your ear. Pretending it’s Danny, you slowly push in a single digit. It’s not nearly enough to satisfy, but that’s nothing you aren’t used to.

Adding another finger gives you a bit of a stretch, but it pales in comparison to how Danny’s fingers would feel. His hand dwarfs yours, his fingers long and thick and perfect for curling up at just the right angle.

“S’not enough.” You groan as you thrust into yourself, but it’s hardly a groan of pleasure.

“What’s not enough?”

“My fingers, it’s-” Another groan comes from your lips, but this time it’s filled with frustration. You’ve been pent up all day, even though you just saw Danny the night before. And yet you still can’t satisfy yourself. Not by yourself, anyway.

You know you could come in a matter of minutes if you really wanted to. From your fingers pressed against your cock. It’s how you usually get off, rubbing one out quickly. Rarely do you try and fuck yourself, only dipping down to collect some of your wet and use it to make your cock nice and slick to finish yourself off.

But those orgasms are bland. Fun, of course, but not what you really want. You want the thigh shaking, eye rolling, screaming orgasm that you know can only come from being properly fucked.

Little tears of frustration well up in your eyes as you adjust your hips, trying and failing to find a better angle. “It’s just not enough.”

“Baby,” Danny coos mockingly, his deep voice vibrating through the phone. “You don’t have anything else to fill you up? No toys?”

Your first instinct is to snap back at him, but you refrain, biting down on your tongue instead. It’s embarrassing, how needy you feel. But your desire’s rolling off of you in waves of heat, and it’s a thirst you can’t quench on your own.

“Don’t make fun of me,” You mumble, pressing the side of your face into your pillow. “S’not my fault…”

“Are you pouting?” Danny’s voice is a shade away from being more condescending than you can bear, his tone unlawfully sweet. You can tell he’s talking through a grin. “Fucking yourself while pouting? Fuck, angel. You’re too much.”

“You’re so mean to me,” Your voice cracks halfway through the sentence, but it’s not from the way you're grinding your hips. The lump in your throat and the tears in your eyes don’t do anything but make you feel stupid, so fucking stupid that a part of you wants to hang up right then and there. As delicious as his voice is, you crave your boyfriend’s touch more than phone sex.

“Darling, are you crying?”

You sniffle, shaking your head. You’re too far gone, too lost in your head to realize he won’t be able to see you. After a moment, you hear Danny chuckle. It’s too much, your face is burning something fierce and you can’t handle anymore embarrassment. With a click, you hang up the phone, pulling your fingers out of yourself and cramming your face properly into the pillow.

A minute passes in silence, before you hear the sound of your phone trilling next to you. You pick it up before it can get to the second ring, fully ready to apologize for acting like such a baby. It was supposed to be a sexy thing, not something so dramatic.

“Danny?”

“You’re a needy little thing, aren’t you?”

You roll over, facing the ceiling with a pinched expression. “I-“

“I’ll be over in thirty.”

“Minutes?” You sit completely upright, clutching onto your phone like a vice.

“Be ready for me, Angel. ”

Your heart jolts in your chest when the line cuts out, and you immediately drop your phone back onto the receiver. You slap your hand over your face, covering up the grin that’s started to grow.

You didn’t expect Danny to be so… down? Especially so late at night, when he has work in the morning, nonetheless. Jumping off the bed, you rush to your dresser, grabbing the folded robe on top of it.

You slip your arms through the sleeves before turning to face the mirror, eyes darting across your body. It’s a simple little thing, something vintage and pretty that caught your eye when you were shopping for clothes a while back. It’s light blue, made from silky satin that hardly reaches your upper thighs and delicate white lace that kisses the hem of the fabric. You tie the robe shut at the small of your waist, looping the sash into a messy bow at the front.

There’s a knock at your door the second you finish looking yourself over, making you nearly jump out of your skin in surprise. You leave your bedroom in a rush, but as you pass by the living room to get to the front door, you pause. Licking your lips, you shoot a glance towards the grandfather clock. Hardly five minutes had passed since he called you.

There was no way Danny could’ve gotten to your place that fast. The excitement in your chest pops, deflating like a sad balloon as you approach the front door, leaning forward with your hands against the wood. When you look through the keyhole, you frown. There’s no one in sight.

“Probably just kids messing around…” You murmur, fiddling with sash at your waist.

But before you can turn away from the door, something leather slams over your mouth, and your cheek is being shoved up against the wood. You try to kick back at whoever grabbed you, but it’s no use. They have an iron grip, and all fighting back gets you is their front shoved against your back, holding you tight against the front door.

You can’t move your hands with the way they’ve been trapped between your body and the door, no matter how hard you struggle against it. They release your mouth, but you’re still too stunned to speak. It’s only then, when you feel the sharp end of a blade press against your thigh, that you realize how vulnerable you are.

“My boyfriend’s gonna be home any minute now.” You grit out as they put the tip of their knife against your sensitive inner thigh. They press hard, hard enough to break skin if you don’t open your legs wider, so you’re forced to move with it. “He’s big and tall and he’ll-“ You’re breath hitches as the person behind you trails the knife up, getting closer and closer to the space between your legs. “He’s a scary motherfucker and he’ll fucking kill you if you touch me!” Your voice breaks as you shout, and to your surprise, the person actually pulls the knife away.

The chuckle that comes next, low and familiar, surprises you as well.

“A ‘scary motherfucker’?” It’s Danny’s voice that greets you, his lips kissing the shell of your ear as he speaks. “Hmm. I guess I am.”

“Danny,” You breathe out, the fear leaving your body like a tidal wave. “What the fuck are you-“

One of his gloved hands cuts you off again before you can finish your sentence, pressing tight against your mouth. His other hand slides eagerly between your legs, slipping inside you without warning.

“You know I don’t like being hung up on.” His voice was far from what you were familiar with, low and grating in your ear. The laugh that follows it equally as foreign. “Ha… should’ve know that you’d get wet from that, fucking slut.”

Like you’re any better, you try to growl, but the leather trapping your mouth makes it impossible to speak, your words coming out in muffled irritation instead.

He laughs, kicking your legs further apart with one of his heavy boots. With a slick sound that makes you blush, he removes his fingers from your slit.

The zipper on his pants hardly makes a noise as he frees himself, but it’s enough to make you press back against him by instinct alone. He moves his hand away from your mouth, pressing his palm against your upper back instead, keeping you pinned to the wall.

You gasp out- something warm and hard pressing up against your entrance. He laughs as he slots his cock between your thighs, right up against your sex, dragging the head along your hardness.

“Danny,” You moan, arching your back and wiggling your hips, hoping to angle it just enough so that he slips inside of you. He’s never taken you like this before, even though you know he’s wanted to, and the rush of it nearly makes your head spin.

“Hmm?” He asks, voice terribly calm for the situation. “What is it? Do you wanna stop?” And just as easily as he started, he pulls back. Grunting a bit before the zipper on his pants is pulled back up. “C’mere.”

You want to cry all over again, so desperately close to getting what you need and yet so far all the same.

“I didn’t mean sto-“

You cut yourself off with a noise of surprise as he grabs you by the hair, pulling you around harshly and forcing you to face him. After he lets go, he takes a few steps back, leather boots thudding heavy against the wooden floor.

You open your mouth, but whatever words you want to say die on your tongue as he reaches out, touching your cheek. The back of his knuckles brush delicately against your cheekbone.

Your stomach does somersaults as he looks you over, taking your body in full. His hand moves down, tracing the outline of your waist through the robe. You can hardly feel his touch, but it makes you shiver all the same.

“I must be the luckiest guy,” Danny murmurs as he takes hold of the end of the bow tying your robe together, slowly pulling it until it comes undone. He lets your robe fall open, the night air cool on your front, and slips his hand inside the fabric to stroke your hip. “To have such a pretty baby.”

Your eyes flutter shut at the praise, but Danny doesn’t let it slide. He takes you by the chin, the pad of his gloved thumb stroking the skin under your lower lip.

“You know that, right?” He nods your head for you, gently tilting your head up and down. You open your eyes, brows slightly furrowed, only to meet his smile. “There we go, pretty thing. Always so ready for me… Always so good…”

You push up on your tiptoes, pressing yourself further into Danny’s touch. You don’t say a word as you slip your hands under his leather jacket, running along the fabric of his shirt before going under it as well. Your lips quirk up when you feel his abdomen tighten, straining with the muscle you already know is there. You trail one of your hands down, letting a stray finger hook into his belt loop.

“Rode all this way,” You murmur, ignoring the way your gut squirms with confusion. There’s no way Danny could’ve gotten to your place so fast, not even if he was speeding the whole way. “And you won’t even kiss me…”

Danny snorts, his hand turning tight on your hip, gripping you hard. “That’s all you want?” He leans down to press his lips against yours, so soft it makes your heart ache.

It’s the contrast with him. The push and pull. So hot and eager one minute, yet so cold and distant the next. But his lips are sweet and kind against yours, and you can’t bring yourself to pick at the scabs of question that litter your relationship with him.

When he pulls back, his voice is rough against your mouth, lips moving like butterfly kisses against yours. “Just one kiss?”

You unzip his jeans in response, nipping at his lower lip when he chuckles.

“Mmhm. That’s what I thought.”

In a quick motion, Danny wraps one arm under your thigh and the other tight around your waist, hoisting you up like you weigh nothing. You nearly yelp at him, your hands slipping out from under his shirt. Before you have the chance to respond, he has your back pressed up against the door once again.

He kisses you with ferocity you’ve never felt from another. Licking into your open mouth, he waits for you to moan before biting down on your lower lip. You grab a fistful of his hair, yanking down when he sinks his teeth down into it again.

Danny works his way down from your lips, sucking dark bruises on your neck and jawline. You gasp and let go of his hair, grabbing onto the back of his neck instead.

“Danny,” You try to speak but the second you start, he’s biting down hard. Right under your jawline, where he knows you’re most sensitive, making you melt into a gasping mess.

He pulls back by a fraction, leaving his lips to rest against the mark he’s made. You can feel the smile on his lips when he speaks, low and so gravely that you swear you can feel it thrumming through your throat. “What was that?”

You laugh, something that starts out soft but turns breathless once he replaces his lips with his tongue. “Choke me,” You rush, as if you’re worried you might forget if he keeps going. The tongue on your neck disappears, and doubt flashes in your mind. “If you want.” You clarify, just as fast. “You can if you want, I mean. I… I don’t mind.”

“Is that right, baby? You don’t mind?”

You nod your head as he adjusts his hips, keeping you stable against the wall so he can pull away from your neck. The look on his face is diabolical, and if you weren’t being held up you’re sure it would be enough to send you to your knees.

“Wanna know what I think?”

You lick over your kiss-bitten lips and nod.

“I think my baby’s a fucking freak.” His hand goes around your throat, applying the slightest bit of pressure. You press into the touch, exhaling through your nose. Your cheeks are on fire, butterflies batting their wings in your stomach.

“I just... I-” Your stammer is cut off by the hand on your throat tightening, stopping the words before they can fall from your tongue.

Your eyes widen as Danny leans in, propping up his thigh to keep you up against the wall. His hand slides down then, squeezing the inner of your upper thigh. You know where he’s going, and let out a shaky exhale, wrapping your legs tighter around him in anticipation. When he touches you, you bite your lower lip.

“You’re still dripping,” Danny sing-songs, dragging two fingers through your folds. He avoids your cock, but just him touching you is enough for you to groan. “I’d say you’re even more wet now.”

Your eyes bulge as he flexes his arm muscles, the veins on his forearm straining from the pressure. The ease at which he can cut off your breath should scare you, but all you can process is the heavy, humid heat that’s filling up your mind. You don’t struggle for breath, you don’t need to yet, but you do open your mouth when he squeezes even tighter.

“It’s so hot,” He groans, pressing forward until his arm is trapped between both of your chests, and his mouth is panting against your ear. “Feeling how bad you need me,”

If his fist wasn’t wrapped around your throat, you would’ve whined. You can feel his heavy puffs of air on the side of your face, and how his chest moves with every ragged breath. You tilt your hips up, trying to get him to move his fingers down. You’ve been waiting so long, and all you want is to feel him inside you. But he just chuckles, presses closer, stilling your hips.

“Desperate,” Danny rasps. “Fucking slut, can’t come unless I’m inside you?”

Your cheeks burn, mouth opening and closing like a fish. You’re nearly spaced out, your head beginning to spin from the lack of oxygen.

“So fucking wet for it, so wet for me,” He inhales shakily, like he’s trying to pull himself together, before letting you breathe again.

You suck in a deep breath, head spinning from the sudden rush of oxygen. He keeps his hand on your throat, not tight enough to choke, but just enough to serve as a reminder of what he could do. Danny presses further up against you, crushing you into the door as he slips a digit inside your heat.

“Oh,” You groan as he adds another, curling them upwards as his thumb starts to massage your cock. “Danny,”

He doesn’t respond, too far gone to speak as he watches you. His eyes are dark and open wide, with an unfamiliar, wild glint in them. The way he works you feels the same, rough and fast, almost in time with his heavy pants.

“You’re driving me crazy,” He grunts, squeezing your neck. “Having you like this-” he cuts himself off with a deep inhale before pulling out completely.

Before you have the time to complain, he’s grabbing you by the hips again, walking a few feet over to the kitchen table, and slamming you down onto it. Your back thuds when it hits the old wood, your eyes wide with shock. He shoves your legs apart, grabbing you by the thighs so he can drag you closer to him.

The skillful way he unbuckles and unzips his pants could almost seem calm if it wasn’t betrayed by the near frantic look in his eyes. He only gets his jeans undone enough to pull his cock out before grabbing you again, pulling until your ass is almost hanging over the table, and thrusting into you.

You can’t be embarrassed by the noise he drags from your throat, something high and strangled and fuck, you know that if it wasn’t for him stretching you out before, he’s big enough that it would’ve hurt. He doesn’t speak as he thrusts, fucking you as you’ve never been fucked before. He’s like a man on the brink, his hands gripping you hard enough to leave bruises.

There’s a moan stuck in your throat, some words too. An assortment of garbled sentences, but each thrust punches them right out until you’re being pounded into a whining, half-crying mess. He’s hitting all the right places, angling his hips just right, and slamming into you until you see stars.

It’s only after you get close, your thighs shaking and straining with the effort, that Danny grabs your throat, squeezing hard as he slows down his thrusts. “If I had my way, I’d keep you like this all the time.”

You swallow back another moan, your eyes still wide when they meet his.

“So wet and open, like you were fucking made for me.” Each word is punctuated by a thrust, hard and slow. His hand turns to a fist, cutting off your airflow. “Gonna give you what you need, gonna take good care of my baby,” Danny moves his hand from your thigh to your waist, ghosting over your stomach. “And if you’re good, I might even fuck one into you.”

Your back arches as you come, his words are all you need to go right over the edge. Black ebbs away at your vision as Danny fucks you through it, hard and fast, choking you as you writhe on his cock. He’s set the pace now, and keeps it steady even as you come back down into your body. It’s nearly too much, but you can’t find the strength to articulate your words.

His hand leaves your throat, but only to trail down your chest, moving to your navel. His fingers find your cock easily, and you yelp in some sort of mix between pain and pleasure. It’s too much, and you arch your back off the table, shimming your hips, doing anything to escape his touch. It’s fire, his touch. Blinding, painful, but so damn hot you can’t help but crave more.

It lasts for years, the constant mix between pain and pleasure. The digit on your cock only lets up once Danny’s breathing turns to pants, sweat beading on his forehead. His hips stutter, slowing down for a moment before gripping your hips with a sudden, newfound intensity. Your skin pales where he’s applied pressure, slamming you down hard onto his cock.

“Angel,” Danny groans, fucking into you once, twice, three times. He comes with a growl, his eyes never shutting as he rides out his pleasure.

There’s a whine in your throat, spilling from your lips just as he fills you up. You’ve never done this without a condom before, but now that you have, you don’t know how you could ever go back to wrapping it up. He leans back, still inside you, catching his breath. Sucking in greedy lungfuls as you watch, your chest heaving with the same intensity.

When he moves to pull out, you grab both of his wrists, not giving him the option of letting go of your hips.

“Wait,” You murmur, pulling him in closer. There’s no real strength behind it, but Danny humors you all the same. You bring one of his hands up to your cheek and nuzzle into it, peppering a few light kisses on his knuckles.

He leans forward, and you kiss him softly, both of you smiling into it. You free his hands, having gotten what you wanted, and he moves them to trail down your chest, caressing your sides. He leaves one to rest on your belly, the other one moving to the side of your neck.

“You really liked that, huh?” Danny asks quietly, his voice a low whisper against your skin.

“Shut up.”

He huffs, kissing the side of your head in what you can tell is exasperation.

A part of you wishes you could stay like this forever. It makes you feel safe, having Danny surrounding you so fully. It makes you feel loved. But the smarter part of you knows that he has to be up at six tomorrow morning, and you don’t know if he’ll stay once you fall asleep. If you’re already in the bedroom, clinging to him under the covers, he’ll stay the night. But if you doze off on the kitchen table, you know he’ll only tuck you into bed before leaving.

“Bed?” You ask, looking up at Danny with half lidded eyes. You can feel the fondness in his gaze as he stares down at you, waiting a few seconds before nodding.

“Yeah baby. C’mere.”

His hands are gentle as they slide over your body, and you have to stop him before he can try and carry you himself.

“I can walk, you know. I’m not gonna break.” You try to chastise, but a smile breaks through your facade. He grins back, lips spreading to reveal teeth, sharp and as deadly as ever. But his lips are soft, plush against your skin and gentle in a way that is too hard for your muddled mind to try and describe. “You know that first hand.”

Danny slips his arms around you once more, chuckling softly against your skin. “I sure do.” He leans up, taking you into his arms as he straightens out his body. “It’ll take a lot more to break you, darling. I know that first hand.”

He carries you to bed with your face tucked into the crook of his neck and your arms slung loosely around his shoulders, and he only needs one arm to pull back the sheets, keeping the other around your waist, before laying you down and tucking you in.

“Stay?” The space between your thighs is sore, and your voice is hoarse from his hand wrapped around your neck. But you amplify it just a bit, making your voice a bit more gravely than it ought to. You have to stay. you’re trying to convey. Look what you’ve done to me, you can’t just leave me like this.

He shucks off his jeans and jacket before slipping in beside you. Warming your bed like he has all the times before, with his arms around you and his face buried in your hair.

You shut your eyes to the sound of him murmuring, and even though you can’t quite hear what he’s saying, you repeat the words back on instinct.

“Love you too, Danny. Love you forever.”

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chiwhorei · 4 years ago

Text

| 𝐞𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐮𝐭 |

pairing: sukuna x fem!reader

genre: smut, dark content, 18+ mdni

word count: 1.1k [cross-posted to Ao3]

tags: noncon, implied kidnapping, torture, bondage, sadism, rough sex— no like really rough, double penetration, two dicks in one hole, size difference, monster-fucking, degradation, mentions of blood, explicit painful sex, mindbreak

a.notes: this is dark, very dark, don’t read this with a heavy heart okay i warned you.

hymn: personal jesus - johnny cash cover

The sun will be turned into darkness, and the moon into blood. Before the great and awesome day of the Lord comes. - Joel 2:31

* * *

A cold, stone altar is the first thing your rousing body notices. The length of your spine presses against the surface, each vertebrae screaming for escape from the sharpest chill it’s ever felt. Wrists and ankles tied together, legs spread wide to accommodate the figure above you.

What had you done to land yourself in hell?

This record is on repeat, waking up with only a moment of blissful confusion, you’re sure the pain isn’t something you’ll ever get used to.

Breaking you— Sukuna has done it limb from limb.

“It just doesn’t seem to me like you’re trying hard enough, little lamb.” The lilt in his voice doesn’t match the mouth it came out of. He curls words into song and threat.

Your cunt tightens, the ghosts of familiar, ripping pain. Sukuna presses twin heads against you, pulling away and slapping one tip against your clit. He matches your screams with a laugh.

The gentle trace of a fingertip runs the apple of your cheek, it feels almost doting; you would lean in if you didn’t know better. You do.

Sukuna retracts two fingers, now wet with tears. When had you starting crying? You watch as he brings the pointer and middle against the flat plane of his tongue.

“Why,” you ask, a single word sitting heavy in your cheeks, a word that tastes like mulch and vinegar, “why?”

“It’s the taste of you,” he speaks again, echoing in the large space around you, “the taste of your fear.”

Your tears, your skin, your blood— it tastes like sweet ambrosia to a devil.

“I can’t, I can’t do it,” you know. Emphatically, you know, that there’s no prayer in any dialect that will stop Sukuna from taking what he wants.

“My precious little pet, I don’t care.” He answers you simply, the smile curled around his face makes your teeth rot.

Sukuna never preps you, and unfortunately it never seems like he has to. Beyond any voice in your head to the contrary, your pussy is already wet and ready.

“Poor little thing, you can’t help how your body reacts to me,” he leans in to capture your wobbly bottom lip in between his teeth, “it’s visceral.”

His fingers find one of your exposed nipples to tug, knowing exactly the way you’ll keen in response.

And, you do.

Back arching off of the stone below you, your body moves into a touch it should be curling away from. Evil fingers map the skin he’s stolen. The first time, the thousandth— it's cold and hollow against your flesh.

There’s no prep, there never is. All you can do is thank your body’s betrayal, slick and dripping as he presses in the first inch of his cock.

He gives you a few pumps, pulling all the way out before snapping back inside. One is fine, it’s a tight fit but it’s nothing you can’t accommodate. Your pussy is welcoming at first.

At first. In the very beginning, you think back, so were you.

Sweet, naïve thing.

The way Sukuna’s shaft rubs inside of you is enough to forget your surroundings, the context graying at the edges. His second cock bounces against your stomach with every thrust, slapping heavy on your clit for only a second at a time. Your body chases after the friction, bucking upwards in desperation.

“Don’t squirm so much, darling, I’ll start thinking you’re enjoying yourself.”

He angles his hips to reach your spongy anterior wall. You scream. The sound curdles, echoing around you, reminding you of your own voice.

Pathetic. You sound pathetic.

“You always put up such a fight but then this cunny pulls me in like a vice. I think you can take both.”

The ‘no’ sitting behind your teeth is useless, he’s never listened. He’ll take from you— body and soul— until you’re no longer fun to play with.

To be useful, is to be alive.

Your will snaps apart and melts into the stone, relaxing your muscles as much as possible while Sukuna pulls out all the way once again.

Both large, inky hands come down to his base, lining both heads up with your messy hole. There’s no way. There’s—

“Fuck.”

The pain is splintering, ripping through your cunt to spread all over your body. The feeling of being stuffed past the absolute brim, the feeling of being ripped apart from the inside out.

There’s a warm trickle down your lips, slick or blood or maybe both, as Sukuna begins to move. He’s slow at first, memorizing every inch of your twitching pussy. You thrash against your restraints, the hot, twisting knives of pain relentless against you.

“If you struggle too much,” he coos you, thumbing away a few stray hairs, “I’ll rip your heart out and eat it.”

You clamp down on your tongue, severing the muscle off between your canines is more preferable. You know Sukuna.

And he would savor every bite.

His pace is fast and deep, stretching you around his cocks, making sure no one will ever fit as snugly as he does.

As if he isn’t the last thing that would ever touch you.

The drag of both tips inside of you is aching, pressing against your cervix with every thrust. Even through the pain, the heat in your stomach is building, the tension deep in your core wound taught.

“I— please I— I’m going to—”

Your voice comes out broken and whiney. Begging him for reprieve has turned into a plea for more.

“You really are my favorite little pet.” Sukuna’s words do weird things to your head, the almost-compliment is soft against your heart even though the haze of anguished pleasure.

You hate him. You love him. You hate Sukuna.

But you always want to be his favorite.

His thumb and pointer finger pinch your clit, rolling it back and forth. Everything feels like it’s too much, but even so, you want more. You want it all.

“I’m going to fuck so much cum into you, you’ll be dripping for days.” His words mix with the pressure on your clit.

Sukuna is the high and the overdose.

You cum with one last violent ripple of pain. Propelling and crashing back to earth just as hard. The blood in every vein turns to honey and then acid.

You twitch against the ropes that keep you in place, your abused cunt milking Sukuna for everything he’s worth. You pull out his own orgasms, his head falling back and his thrusts growing sloppy.

“God, you sure know how to take a beating. My precious little lamb.” He pulls out and slaps his cocks against your stomach, splattering a mess of the two of you all over your abdomen.

You smile, wide and stupid and against any better judgment.

Sukuna will tear you apart, break you mind and body, and expect you to thank him.

And you do.

#jjk smut #jjk x reader smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #sukuna x reader smut #sukuna smut #tw: noncon #tw: monster fucking #tw: blood #tw: kidnapping #tw: torture #tw: mindbreak #sin.noncon #sin.monster fucking #sin.blood #sin.cumflation #sin.marking #sin.kidnapping #sin.torture #sin.mindbreak

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