#I’m always looking for ways to feel guilty and die | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

charliemwrites · 4 months

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Bark bark bark awoooo

You’re gonna fucking combust.

Somehow, someway, this is Johnny’s fault. You’re not sure how yet, so he it isn’t fair for him to be in trouble, but you know it.

“This is your fault,” you tell him, pouting in bed — bare ass naked, but that means nothing to him, he’s a dog. He cocks his head, and you wave your (broken) vibrator at him. “I don’t know how, but it is. Is this because I wanna chop your balls off?”

His mouth closes, eyes big - like he actually understands you. In your horny delirium, you almost believe he really does.

You flop onto your back with a sigh, eyes a little wet with frustration.

It’s been two months since you last successfully got off. Your vibrator (and its replacement… and its replacement’s replacement) keep breaking, or running out of battery. The plug is defective or falls out of the socket.

Once you successfully got right to the edge - just for it to die. You almost did cry that time.

Sure, there’s your hand. But every time you try ol’ reliable a certain four-legged roommate interrupts one way or another. And when you tried to kick him out of the room, and then ignored the howling, scratching, and general drama - there was loud and rapid knocking at your door.

Like fucking clockwork. If you get anywhere at all, you never get to finish.

It wouldn’t be so bad, either. Your libido isn’t anything crazy, you don’t think. At least it wasn’t before. But now there’s Soap.

Soap who you should not be so attracted to. Who has no sense of propriety or boundaries, who murmurs the dirtiest things to you in the most public and otherwise mundane places. And he just keeps. Showing. Up.

Like he’s got a tracker on you or something. (You’ve checked, he doesn’t.)

He’s like every guilty fantasy you had as a good, studious girl back in high school. The kind of guy to grab your thigh under your parents’ dinner table and take your virginity in the back of his car. Maybe corner you by the lockers between classes to kiss you silly and drive up your absence record.

You never actually went for those boys — and perhaps gratefully, they never went for you. In romance novels, it would be a quaint little coming of age story. The stuff to swoon over. But reality was a lot scarier for you, especially with your older sister always keeping an ear out to report back to your parents and… well, yeah.

You’ve always been a firm introvert, anyway. That’s why you live out in the woods with only a dog for regular company.

But Soap. Soap is some unholy amalgamation of those innocent, shy girl fantasies turned R-rated. Like the grown-up version of those cute YA novels.

And you have no defense for it — except distrust, that is.

Soft-hearted as you are, you know you don’t do casual well. And you know that guys like Soap just like to spin you up and up until you finally give in, think the dreaded words “maybe it’ll work out” despite that rational voice in your head saying, “don’t bet on it.”

Doesn’t stop you from secretly wanting him though.

Fear is the only thing keeping you in check now. Some of it for you own feelings; of getting invested in a guy that has done nothing but treat you like a prime cut of meat. The rest of it is a genuine concern that he might be a bit dangerous. He’s so much bigger than you, visibly stronger. Has gone out of his way to make you uncomfortable (doesn’t matter that a very dark and slutty part of you liked it) and ignored your attempts at brushing him off.

Fear, unfortunately, is beginning to add to the temptation.

“I’m not going to do it,” you tell yourself, or maybe Johnny. Soap’s contact is on the screen. You don’t remember putting it into your phone, but you must have at some point. “Nope. No way.”

You slide a sideways look at Johnny, tail wagging at a steady clip.

“He’s probably a former frat boy or something, right?” you muse.

Snort.

“No, you don’t think so?” you question, sitting up. He happily crawls into your lap when you pat your thighs, chin resting on your tummy. “Nah, you’re right. Could almost imagine him beating the hell out of one for pissing him off.”

A little grumbly noise. You smile and start petting absently over his head and ears, phone forgotten now.

“This is dumb anyway,” you sigh, head tilted back to the ceiling. “You don’t like men. I couldn’t bring him back here.”

Johnny’s ears flick. You giggle and start flopping them around, making airplane noises. Eventually he huffs and starts licking at your face until you stop, complaining that you’ll need to wash off now.

—

“Fuck it.”

Johnny picks his head up, staring at you as you run a hand down your face.

“Fuck it all. I’m going to a bar. I’m getting… I dunno. Laid or something.” Thank god it’s only Johnny here. You don’t think you could live with the embarrassment of someone else hearing the way you talk.

You set your hands on your hips, nod to yourself.

“And if it happens to be Soap, then… sign from the universe, right?” You grimace a bit, striding for your bedroom. “Please don’t let him be a murderer or something…”

For once, Johnny is perfectly behaved as you get ready. He doesn’t try to lick at you when you come out of shower (freshly shaved and lotioned and everything). Sits patiently on the bed as you pick through your closet, even noses at a pretty pink dress you rarely wear but were considering for this.

He doesn’t try to bump your arms or hands while you do your makeup, just watches attentively. You choose a pretty, matching bra-panty set, apply a light spritz of perfume. Hesitate over jewelry.

“Is it normal to wear jewelry when you plan on fucking?” you wander allowed.

A little “boof” from the bed. You’ll take that as a yes.

You decide on a set of faux pearls with a gold heart pendant in the center. Not quite a choker, but high enough on your throat to suggest one. A delicate bracelet, a pair of stud earrings, and you’re just about set.

“Christ, I hate doing this alone,” you mutter, fumbling with the zip on the back of the dress.

Lastly, the shoes.

“Fuck it,” you say again. Your mantra for the evening, apparently. Wobble into a pair of heels, a bow on the outside of each ankle where you buckle them.

You pause when you’re done, giving yourself a once over in the full length mirror. Pleased with what you see. Coquettish and pretty, not necessarily bombshell sexy maybe, at least not on first glance. But the necklace, the heels, the cutouts at the waist of your dress… it’s all exactly what you wanted.

“Alright,” you breathe, tummy swooping with excitement. “I can do this… right?”

Johnny’s gotten down off the bed, is keeping a respectful distance. You appreciate it, don’t want to have to lint roll hair off yourself.

“Oh, god. What if he’s bad?” You ask, giving him a horrified look. “What if he’s been, like, compensating?”

To your shock, he stomps his paw and starts damn near howling. Carrying on and on like he’s bitching you out. You blink in shock, almost laugh — then check the time.

“Oh! Don’t worry, baby. I won’t let you starve!”

You toddle off to the kitchen and prep his dinner, scrunching your nose at the raw chicken and beef liver. He grumbles and fusses the whole way, making you laugh as you pretend to have a whole conversation about the economy with him.

“Okay, bonnie Johnny,” you coo, setting his bowl down. “Be good, okay? If I bring someone back here please don’t eat them, okay?”

More grumbles and whines and growls. You roll your eyes, blow him a kiss, and slip out the door.

You tell yourself you just need action with someone. Don’t admit to yourself that there’s really a specific someone you’re hoping to see.

#cod #my writing #fanfiction #dark fic #reader fic #woof woof johnny #woof woof au

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kentopedia · 5 months

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.𖥔 ݁ ˖ HOTEL ROOM — levi ackerman x f!reader x nanami kento

summary. what’s a wedding for if not to make your boyfriends a little jealous?

contents. threesome, wedding guests, best friend satoru, teensy bit of jealousy, nsfw, aot/jjk crossover universe, teasing, cunnilingus, blowjob, piv, sub reader, slight degradation, brat taming, pet names, praise, teasing, unprotected sex — 5.5k

notes. welcome to the most self indulgent and filthy thing i have ever written ! this is for me & the two men i have been in love with for two years but i guess everyone else can read it too <3

“your boyfriend looks pissed,” satoru says, peering over your shoulder. there’s a grin on his face as his bright irises flash, and he hands you a glass of champagne, bubbles rising to the surface.

you take it from him, spilling a quarter of the alcohol down your throat before craning your neck to glance at the other side of the room.

behind you, levi is talking to hange in a hushed voice, his expression, though not unchanged from his normal one, is thoroughly unamused. his face is pinched tighter than usual, a harsh set to his jaw. levi’s blue eyes, darkened with irritation, slide over to kento, who rests his hip against the counter, taking a long sip of whiskey.

though levi isn’t looking at you, kento is, and you smile at him sweetly, taunting him with a little wave.

you don’t wait to see kento’s response, and focus your attention back on satoru. “which one?” you ask, hiding your sly smile as you follow satoru out to the dance floor. a man takes your near-empty champagne glass, whisking it onto a tray with the other lipstick-stained cups.

satoru smirks, taking your hand in his own to spin you in a circle, following the steps of the other couples around you. although you and satoru have been friends—and only friends—for years, you know a part of kento can’t help but be jealous, especially since you’d once had a crush on satoru as a teenager.

even though that had long since died, kento doesn’t bother to hide his antagonism for the older man. levi, on the other hand, will never admit to his possessiveness… but he hates seeing you in the arms of anyone that isn't him.

“so,” satoru hums, shaking his head as you nearly bump into a blonde couple beside you. “i take it you’re trying to be an instigator?”

you make a face. “what do you mean? i’m just dancing with my good friend satoru.”

“right.” satoru laughs, pulling you closer to his chest. something changes in him, for a brief moment, and you can see why everyone wants him. he lays the charm on a little thicker, smiles a little wider—you’re starting to wonder if he actually wants to seduce you. “if you want to make them jealous, at least do it the right way,” he says, putting on his prettiest blue eyes, batting them softly at you.

“that’s not—” you start, but satoru offers you a knowing grin in return. you’ve been close friends for far too long, and he knows you far too well. any objections you have quickly die out on your tongue, and you sigh, leaning in closer. “fine. whatever.”

you glance over at levi, and a part of you can’t even feel guilty, not when he’s watching you with icy eyes, wondering if there’s a moment he’d be able to catch satoru off-guard.

he's a little possessive, a bit hotheaded. can you really be blamed for enjoying the irritation that rolls into kento’s normally calm eyes, the way levi’s jaw clenches tighter and tighter, until you can hear his teeth cracking together?

it’s almost amusing, really. they should know they have nothing to worry about.

“seems i’ve taught you well,” satoru begins, his cologne overwhelming your senses as he bows to your height. “i mean, you can always come back to my hotel room. this is a wedding, after all. the perfect time to spice things up.”

you roll your eyes at him, snorting. “don’t push your luck, gojo. i’m sure you’ll manage to find someone else to keep your bed warm tonight.”

satoru sighs, pressing a hand to his heart like you’d fatally wounded him. “hm. i’ll get you to fuck me one of these days.” though, for once, he sounds a little too serious, like he’s actually imaging that playing out. “if you can keep the two of them around, then you must—”

the song comes to an end, and you pull away from your old friend, stopping whatever lewd comment he was about to make. “that’s enough of that, satoru.” you say, ignoring his protests, his faux innocence when he pretends not to know what he said.

but gojo’s attention is taken up a few seconds later by shoko, and you leave them, heading towards a table with small desserts and drinks. as you pick up a plate, jean kirstein approaches, his eyebrows knit together as he fiddles with the bottom of his shirt.

you smile at him, but jean doesn’t smile back. “is… something wrong?” you ask, uncertain if he even wanted you to question him.

jean opens his mouths, shuts it, then sniffs. “do you think you could manage to stop pissing off levi?” he finally says, picking up a plate next to you, following your actions as he sifts through the desserts. “he’s going to take it all out on us at training tomorrow.”

you open your mouth to respond, but you don’t get the chance to let the words spill from your lips.

behind you, kento says your name, and you turn, facing him with the pile of small desserts still in your hand. jean freezes awkwardly next to you, glancing between the blonde man and yourself.

“everything okay, ken?”

“i’m just going back to the room,” kento says, putting his hands in his pocket, looking at you pointedly. his dark eyes shift over to jean, before fixating back on you. “just wanted to let you know.”

you smile at him sweetly, nod once. “okay,” you say, offering him a treat from the plate. “want one before you go?”

kento relaxes, but he shakes his head. “i’m fine." he shifts to his other foot. “so. you’re going to stay here?”

though kento is too polite to ask you to come with him, especially in front of jean, you can sense his underlying irritation. half of the guests had already gone home, and it was well after midnight... much later than either of you intended to stay out.

still, you smile, cheeks flushed from all of the alcohol, dancing, and the heat of your boyfriend’s gaze. “yeah, i’ll come up in a bit. i still haven’t danced with jean!”

kento raises an eyebrow, glancing over at the younger man once more, who stares back at him like a deer in headlights.

“oh, um—” jean laughs awkwardly, scratching the back of his head as you sigh, taking a bite of one of the desserts.

kento blinks, but ignores jean’s rambling, and fishes his wallet out of his pocket. “fine,” he says, pulling a white, plastic room key out of it. “let me know if you need anything, sweetheart.”

you smile widely and kiss him once on the cheek. though the irritation is still evident in his dark irises, your lips ease him a bit, and he lets a small smile lift on his face. as kento leaves, you glance at the other corner of the room, and note that levi is already gone.

your expression sours; he didn’t even bother to tell you, and there aren’t any messages from him on your phone.

“why’d you have to drag me into it?” jean mumbles, drawing you out of your thoughts.

a heavy exhale leaves you—you might as well enjoy the rest of the night, even if you’re not sure how angry levi is going to be when you get back.

“well, you just seem pretty miserable,” you admit to jean, clearing all thoughts of kento and levi from your mind. that's a problem for the future you to endure. “thought i could at least keep you some company.”

he smiles, but its half-hearted.

truly, you’re not sure how jean can stand to see the woman he loves get married to another.

you’re sweaty by the time you retreat to your room, skin hot from the dancing, and feet sore from the heels you’d worn for the entirety of the day.

not many people were left in the ballroom when you’d left. there were just a few close friends of eren and mikasa’s, and you’d stayed as well, flitting in between each of the couples to chat, feeling more lively with the buzz of alcohol in your veins.

the hotel hallway is quiet when you approach, and you press the key into the door, waiting for the light to turn green. it lets you into the room, and quietly, you shut it behind you, not wanting to wake levi and kento if they're already asleep.

though, when the door clicks, you notice that the room isn’t completely dark; there are still lamps on throughout the suite, and you can hear the soft patter of shower water running. the bathroom light is on, and there’s shuffling on the other side of the door.

you slip your heels off and walk towards the bedroom, ignoring the pain that lingers in the balls of your feet. “levi?” you say, in nothing above a whisper, announcing your presence before opening the door.

the bedroom is darker, but on the other side of the threshold, you can still make out the shape of the dark-haired man. levi has his back turned, the pale expanse of his skin exposed to you as he slips off his shirt.

though you know he’s annoyed at you, you can’t stop yourself from staring at the muscles that flex and recoil as levi folds his shirt up.

he looks over his shoulder, blue eyes flashing as he places his t-shirt shirt back with his other clothes. “so you finally decided to come back,” levi quips, his voice hard and low as he turns, facing you from just a few feet away. “are you done playing your silly little game now?”

he says it calmly, but you can heart the danger that lies beneath it as his eyes trace over your body, lingering on the swell of your breasts under your form-fitting dress.

levi’s severe gaze leaves you swallowing nervously, something twisting in your stomach as you watch the harsh set of his jaw. you’re not afraid to push levi’s button’s, but you’ve never gotten used to the passion and adoration that pierces his normally serious irises.

still, you can tell he’s irritated now, and though he’s usually more serious than even kento, he’s not as good at hiding his anger.

“what game?” you ask innocently as levi backs you into a corner, his scowl deepening. he smells nice, freshly showered, and his hair is soft as it falls across his forehead. levi’s strong hand comes against the wall beside your head, palm spread next to your ear. “i just wanted to have fun with my friends.”

levi lets out a laugh, but it’s low, sarcastic, without any sense of real humor. “and you can’t even spare a dance for me?” he says, pinning you with his gaze. your back hits the wall, and you stare at him, lips parting as a small breath leaves you. although you are trying hard not to let your eyes drift down to his chest, you are distracted, heart fluttering in your ribcage.

“you hate dancing, levi,” you say, a breath of air.

levi glares, tracing his fingers softly across your jaw. “not with you.”

though you were trying to taunt him for a moment longer, the admission has you softening, and you lean forward, your lips parting to kiss him. but you don’t get far; levi steps away, leaving you in the corner, desperate for his mouth on your own as he stalks towards the other side of the bed.

“levi,” you whine, following after him with a deep frown. your hands instinctively reach out for him as he makes his way across the room, shoulders tense when you sensuously run your fingers over his bare spine. “i want—”

the rest of your sentence is lost to air as levi turns, his eyes narrowed harshly before yanking you forward.

you stumble over your feet, closer to him, and he pushes you onto the bed, his movements much faster and smoother than anticipated. a gasp leaves you as you fall onto the mattress, your back sinking into it with a thump.

“you spend all evening on the arm of other men, and now you’re trying to tell me what you want,” levi says, pinning your wrists to the bed as he climbs over your. his dark hair falls, nearly into your face as you blink up at him, arousal spiking deep in your stomach.

levi isn’t as tall as kento, but he’s just as strong, manhandling you easily onto your back so he can tower over you. your face grows warm, and you watch him with wide eyes, shy under the weight of his heavy gaze.

“levi—” you say again, his name leaving your lips with a small whisper.

“what’s the matter?” he slowly drags his lips across your chest as you squirm. “earlier, you couldn’t keep your mouth shut. flirting with every man at eren’s fucking wedding. and now—”

levi drags his hands down to your hips slowly, pressing you into the bed as his fingers curl into the bone. your eyes flutter shut, the feeling of his graceful fingers on your stomach close to tantalizing, so slender, but so rough.

“they’re my friends,” you breathe, licking your lips. “i wasn’t flirting, i was just talking.”

really, that tiny detail doesn’t matter anymore. you just want levi’s mouth on your own.

“didn’t look like it to me,” he says pointedly, unamused. “you were practically begging everyone in that room to fuck you.” levi’s hand tightens around your hips, not allowing you any space to move. “a pathetic attempt at trying to make us jealous.”

you stare up at him from under your lashes, a lazy smile pulling onto your lips. “from where i’m standing, i’d say it worked pretty well.”

levi’s jaw clenches tighter, but he doesn’t get the opportunity to respond. the door opens once more, and kento comes in, wearing nothing but a towel, his hair still damp, falling onto his head in loose strands.

you take one look at him, the drops of water that run over the planes of his chest, and salivate. his skin is still tan from your vacation, blond hair light from the sun. he’s beautiful, so beautiful—but a frown pollutes his face as he enters the room.

he takes a look between you, eyes narrowing at levi. “i said to wait until i got out of the shower.”

“i’m impatient,” levi retorts in a gruff voice, sitting up slightly, even as he keeps you pinned on the bed with his thighs.

“that’s obvious.” kento snorts, sliding his gaze over to you. “already starting without me.” he’s upon you quickly, two slow strides to the bed as he carefully observes the atmosphere. a sigh leaves him, and he brushes a heavy hand over your forehead, soothingly. “what are we going to do with you, sweetheart?”

you swallow, eyes wide as you stare back at him.

kento drops the towel from his waist, exposing his thick, muscular thighs and his cock, resting limply between them. with levi’s hands all over your body, you’re already getting wet.

“i didn’t do anything—” you begin, but as you try to squeeze your legs together, levi stops you, knowing exactly the kind of relief you are searching for.

“nope,” he snaps, prying your thighs back apart, his eyes narrowing. “if you’re going to act like a fucking brat, then we’ll just have to treat you like one, hmm?” levi tugs you forward harshly, bringing your knees around his waist. “don’t try to act coy.”

his fingertips dig into your thighs, and you sit up on your forearms, glancing back at kento, trying your best to bat your pretty eyes in the way you know he likes. “but i didn’t mean, it, ken,” you say as levi hikes your dress up, revealing the smooth skin of your thighs. “i’m sorry—”

kento shakes his head, and slips behind you, climbing onto the bed, forcing you sit up completely. “a little too late for that,” he says, resting your back against his chest. he kisses your shoulder softly, much more gentle than the way that levi is grabbing at your skin. kento’s large palms rest on your stomach, and you reach for them, squeeze at his hands as he smiles against your neck. “you’re supposed to be a good girl for us, aren’t you?”

his voice is husky, tired, and you nod, seeking a kiss from the blonde man that you love so dearly. but even kento, who is always so much sweeter with you than levi, refuses that.

“clearly, she needs to be taught a lesson,” levi snorts, dragging a finger up your panties, humming when finds your arousal already gathered there. “can’t have you forgetting who you belong too, can we?” he asks, blue eyes sharp as he pushes your panties to the side.

you squirm when his finger parts your folds, grazing your clit as he gathers the slick around it. a spark ignites in your chest, and then, levi slips a finger into you, slowly, tauntingly. you lean back into kento, who holds you still, interlocking one of your hands with his own.

“can’t be happy with just the two of us, can you?” kento asks, kissing the underside of you jaw. your head tips back, eyes fluttering shut as levi adds a second finger, your walls stretched as he draws in and out of you. “would you rather have satoru? maybe you’d trade both of us for just one of him—”

“n-no,” you say, reveling in the feeling of kento’s lips on your neck, levi’s delicate fingers deep inside you. “i promise, i don’t want him—”

you squelch around levi, the sounds of your cunt growing louder in the dim room, and he tugs at your knees, spreading your legs wider. your pussy is on full display to him, lacy black panties doing little to hide the fact that you're dripping.

“didn’t seem that way to us." levi's voice is deep and rough as he glares at you. “seemed like you wanted everyone to think we can’t take of our girl.”

sinful noises leave you as his hand moves faster, drags against your soaked walls, clit untouched and desperate for attention.

“levi,” you gasp, swallowing down your pride. “please—”

“not letting you off the hook that easily, sweetheart,” kento says, pushing the loose straps of your wine colored dress down, letting it fall. it slips easily off your breasts, revealing the lacy, black strapless bra that matches your panties.

though, that doesn’t remain for much longer; kento groans deeply in your ear, your breasts bouncing softly as he tugs the undergarment off.

“such pretty tits,” kento says, a large, warm palm coming to cup one of them. his finger grazes across your nipple, squeezing once, and you throw your head back against his shoulder, whimpering as levi forces his another finger down to the knuckle. “fuck, the sounds you make—”

“you’re too fucking nice to her, kento.” levi is on the verge of rolling his eyes as he lowers his head to your thighs. for a moment, you think he might kiss your leg, reveal the love that he is hiding from you—but he thinks better of it and forces your legs further apart. his tongue drags against your pussy, gathering your slick before he sucks at your clit.

you moan, grabbing at kento’s thighs that are woven around your hips, digging your nails into his flexed muscles. tiny crescent marks are left there, but kento barely notices, too busy biting a bruise into your neck as he plays with your tits.

“i don’t have to be an ass like you to teach her a lesson,” kento breathes against your neck, and you shudder, eyes fluttering closed, unable to do anything but writhe under their strong holds. “besides, she’s so perfect—”

you can’t focus on the rest of kento’s words, not when levi’s tongue is flicking in and out of you, lapping up the juices that are spilling out of your cunt. your stomach vibrates with need, and you can feel yourself close to release, exhales leaving your chest as you attempt to shift yourself forward.

“don’t even try it,” levi glares at you, his gaze even more menacing under the mound of dark hair, lips glistening from your cunt.

“wanna cum levi,” you cry out, not sure how much longer you’ll last with kento pinching at you, squeezing your tits with his warm palms. “please, i’m so close—”

“who said you were going to cum, brat?” levi snaps, stilling his movements for a moment as you whine, missing the feeling of his fingers deep inside you, his lips sucking at your clit. you clench around nothing, throbbing as he stares down at you empty pussy. “don’t think you deserve that.”

“just let her cum so i can fuck her, levi,” kento says, a shiver radiating through your entire body as he traces his hands down your stomach, rubbing at your clit. his fingers are thicker than levi’s, his hands bigger, and you know it won't be long before you reach your orgasm.

“kento.” you whine, turning your cheek to face him, reveling in the small little smile that rests on his lips. “so close—”

though, your moment of relief is taken from you as levi swats kento’s hand away, going down on you again, twice as fast. “hey,” levi grabs your attention once more, slipping his fingers back inside your cunt. “eyes on me. i’m the one with my fingers in your pussy.”

you gasp, writhing as kento kisses you, runs his hands all over your skin. “feels s’ good, levi." though you are vibrating between them, you obey, keeping your eyes focused on levi’s, too intimidated by the heat of his gaze.

“promise to behave now, angel?” kento says, humming into your neck, a hand caressing your stomach lovingly. “you’re our sweet girl, right?”

your mind short circuits as levi puts his mouth on you once more, and you cum, your body shaking from your orgasm, clenching tight around levi’s fingers. “levi, levi.” his name leaves your lips over and over, mumbled bliss as he works you through it, your sensitive cunt aching.

you feel mushy, shaky as kento shifts behind you, places his hand on your hips. there is no time for you to recover, to indulge in the blissfulness that comes with release. kento pushes your hips forward, encouraging you to move.

“get on all fours for me,” he says, and though his voice is soft, sweet, there is still a sense of a command there.

you comply, but your mind is hazy from your orgasm, still focused on the feeling of kento behind you, levi in front of you. they both eye you with a culmination of lust and love, and you feel sick with it, shifting for kento so that your dripping cunt is on perfect display for him.

kento hums, sitting up along with you, so that his cock is positioned near your entrance. without warning, he dips a finger into your walls, smiling when you softly whine, sensitive already. kento gathers up your slick, rubbing you only for a moment before retreating, withdrawing his soaked fingers. “you get so wet for us, sweetheart. such a needy little thing, aren’t you?” kento teases, running his tongue over his fingers as you watch over your shoulder.

you wonder if maybe you could cum again, on the spot, just from that; the sight of kento licking your arousal from his hands as you clench around nothing. “kento, need your cock,” you blabber, barely holding yourself upright—you feel weak, arms and legs like jelly.

kento lets out a laugh, his tip teasing your entrance. without thinking, you sink your hips back, try to push him inside of you, but he stops you, stilling your movements. “thought you said you’d be good now?” he asks, kissing your spine gently.

“i promise, kento, please, please,” you say, desperate for him to touch you. but kento doesn’t move, waits until levi has slipped his sweatpants off, thrown them over the edge of the bed.

“sound so pretty when you beg.” kento’s voice is soft, loving, gentle as he kneads the skin of you ass.

levi, though, doesn’t let the attention stay on the other man for much longer. he strokes his cock, but he is already painfully hard, leaking at the tip as he glowers over you. “she sounds impatient,” he counters, his voice deep, rough, and authoritative. you meet his eyes from under thick lashes, mouth watering at the sight of his pretty cock just inches from your face. “maybe she’ll stop running her mouth with my dick in it.” levi runs his finger over your lips, parting them with his thumb. as if on instinct, you let your jaw fall open, your cunt aching and soaked, too desperate for release to care about how debauched you look.

“wanna taste you, levi,” you say, whimpering as kento edges his tip into your dripping hole. your hands shake on the bed, and you blink rapidly as your sensitive pussy throbs and aches, pulsing around your blonde lover.

“tch, ‘course you do. you’re so fucking hungry for my cock.” levi seems annoyed, but he still runs a delicate hand through your hair before he pushes against your lips.

at the same time, kento sinks into you, a deep groan leaving him. “fuck, sweetheart, just slipped right into you. pretty pussy was made for my cock, wasn’t it?”

you moan as you taste the saltiness of the precum leaking from levi, taking as much of him as you can into your mouth. he’s not as thick as kento, but he’s just as long, pretty and veiny as you run your tongue along the length of him.

kento leans over your back, his strong hands curling around your sides as he drags himself in and out of you, fingers digging into your hips. your eyes flutter shut from the stretch, and you moan around levi’s mouth, distracted by his hands, rough in your hair.

for a moment, you pause, breathing as you clench around kento, but levi doesn’t give you enough time to think; he drags your mouth back down his cock, his pretty fingers tight against your scalp. “levi—” you start, but his names falls on a loose breath as you gasp, your cheeks hot when you smoothly catch the dark look in his irises.

“don’t cum until we tell you to, brat,” levi says, scowling, though there is a breathlessness starting in his words, a hint of affection as you bob your head up and down his length. as mean as levi tries to be sometimes, he can't seem to get rid of the love that seeps into his voice when he’s inside you.

you nod an affirmation as best you can before sinking back down on him, breathing heavier through your nose.

kento pushes into your fluttering walls deeper, faster, his cock stretching you more than levi’s fingers had before. “look so pretty like this, angel. always take us both so well,” kento says, squeezing the soft skin of your sides gently as he forces himself further, until he’s inside of you completely, the burn deliciously painful.

you try to whimper, feeling your own juices trickle, smear between the inside of your thighs, but your mouth is too full of levi for any sounds to come out.

“focus on what you’re doing." levi's attempt at snapping fizzles out. his tone has lost its bite. his eyes are getting hazier, eyelids fluttering with each drag of your tongue, your mouth so much smaller around his cock. “not letting you cum until i do.”

you balance on one hand, the other reaching up to fondle levi’s balls as you drag your tongue slowly along the vein on the underside of his cock. levi inhales deeply, digging his fingers into your hair, his nails scratching against your scalp. his cheeks, the bridge of his nose are dusted pink, eyes a deep navy.

you bat your dazed eyes at him. levi is so beautiful, and you’re so deeply in love with him, desperate to see the flush of his face, the way his lips part in ecstasy when he finally reaches his orgasm.

a hand drifts across your stomach as kento hum, his chest vibrating. “being such a good girl for us,” he whispers, and though you can’t see him, you know he is smiling, his eyes always so gentle, even when you spent the entire night trying to rile him up.

you can feel yourself getting closer, kento hitting the spot deep within you, levi’s taste so intoxicating that you’re blind to your surroundings.

“just like that, my love." drunk on the feeling of your mouth, levi's dark eyes finally soften as you run your tongue along his tip. “aren’t you pretty?” his thumb traces your cheek softly, and the normal affection is back on his face. it fuels you to drag your mouth up his length faster.

levi's praise is much more fleeting then kento’s, but it’s genuine, always coming when he’s desperately close to finishing. a moan, deep and muffled, reverberates in his chest as he thrusts his hips forward, fucking your face.

“she’s close,” kento groans, reaching around your stomach to dip his finger between your thighs. “i can feel it. she's squeezing me so fucking tight.”

“mouth feels so good," levi rasps, his breathing uneven, chest rising erratically. “fuck, fuck, you’re gonna make me cum” he lets a string of curses leave him, his lips parting beautifully, flushed and red. “better swallow every last fucking drop."

“don’t think that’ll be an issue,” kento hums, and his fingertips graze your clit, causing you to gush around him. “she always wants our cum so bad.” teasingly, he leans down to whisper, more to you than levi. “i don’t think i even have to ask if she wants me to cum inside.”

“shit,” levi breaths, sputters, and then he spills into your mouth, warm ropes of cum shooting into your throat.

you swallow as much as you can, trying not to gag as it dribbles out of the corner of your mouth, milking levi through his orgasm. but you’re too focused on the feeling of kento, and your eyes flutter shut as you force your hips back, your brain glossed over, nothing but need there.

that moment is short-lived.

levi pinches your cheeks, forces you to open your eyes and look at him. though his fingers dig into your skin, right below the bone, his eyes are soft as he leans down.

“cum." the word is whispered against your mouth, the sharp tone he uses as a captain. then, levi kisses you, licks across your lips to taste himself there.

you whimper into his mouth, falling forward into him as you clench hard around kento, the knot inside of you releasing. your orgasm hits you hard, blurs the room around you, narrowed down to nothing but the man in front of you and the one behind.

“mm,” kento hums, but his voice is low, raspy. “god, made such a mess all over me, fuck, love you so much, sweetheart—”

kento lasts only a few moments more, spilling into your cunt, his cum filling you up, coating your walls white.

you breathe heavily, whining into levi's neck as he holds you, lets kento pump the last bit of cum from his cock, heavy pants escaping his chest.

“look at you,” levi says, tracing his fingers over your face, smoothing the hair away from your sweaty forehead. "so fucking pretty all filled up with our cum."

kento, slowly, drags himself out of you, makes another sound, already missing the feeling of your pussy clenching around him. you feel empty, blinking as levi gathers your up in his arms, kisses your forehead.

"mmm." levi hums, because, really, he can't help the fact that you soften him up, make him a little bit sick with affection. "i love you."

you smile. "love you both," you say, closing your eyes as kento smatters kisses across your back, levi's touch gentle as he caresses your sides. "'m sorry."

kento laughs, brushing your hair off to one shoulder, kissing between your shoulder blades. "no you're not." he nuzzles your back, resting his cheek against your spine. two strong arms wrap around your waist.

"we're not idiots," levi continues, a snort leaving him. "i'm sure you spent the whole evening plotting with satoru. nice try though."

you smile, dopey and blissful. "well, it worked, didn't it? i did make you jealous."

neither of them respond.

anyway.

tehehe thank you for reading !! reblogs appreciated !

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hades-in-bloom · 7 months

Text

Scars

Leon S. Kennedy x Reader

summary: thinking of Leon’s scars (with a little bit of touching).

warnings & contents: fluff; assumed older Leon (more of RE6 and Vendetta, although I keep using ID! to illustrate); could be age gap, could be none; lots of cuddling; mentions of violence (sorta); the reader could be any gender; no mentions of y/n

a/n: a blurb, because I can. As always, proceed at your own risk. Minors DNI! Masterlist xoxo

soundtrack: billie eilish — when the party’s over

***

Leon’s figure was resting on top of the bedsheets, his bare back exposed to one’s curious sight with his features relaxed, while he was catching up on hours of sleep he was deprived of this week; thanks to another one of those excruciating missions. You couldn’t hold back a small smile; he looked so peaceful, lying there with disheveled dirty blonde hair and not a glimpse of worry on his face—something you would die to see more often after everything he has endured.

You were doing your best to stay as quiet as humanly possible so you wouldn’t wake him up when your gaze got drawn to the network of scars, interspersed with moles, scattered across his pale skin. There were a couple of fresh bruises flourishing into purple and yellow blobs, too, adding to a rich picture. You winced like you could feel his pain. You’d never get used to seeing him this way—seeing him hurt.

Your touch was lighter than one of a feather when your fingers slid over one of his scars, tracing its shape slowly, with care. This one seemed to be old, fading away over the years, thus one of the rarest ones—as there were many more those anew, coming in different shapes and shades of pink. It didn’t matter, though, how many of them were on Kennedy’s body—you knew them all, keeping the count.

You pulled your hand away in a swift motion as you felt Leon stir. He was still half-asleep when he opened his eyes a crack, his gaze fixed on your features. You looked guilty.

“Hey,” he muttered hoarsely with a faint smile. He didn’t sound irritated—rather exhausted. “Can’t keep your hands off of me, sweetheart?”

You chuckled softly as you eliminated the distance between the two of you, and then rested your head on the edge of his pillow. His hand immediately wrapped around your waist, pulling you even closer.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t want to wake you up.” You pressed your lips against his forehead. You kept your voice barely above the whisper, hoping he’d be able to go back to sleep.

He hummed, “It’s okay,” with his eyes almost shut again, as his mind stayed in the half-place between awakeness and dreams. His thumb caressed your side mindlessly, soothing himself down.

You put your hands on his back in a kind of hug, feeling the bumps of his scars under your fingers.

“You have never told me their stories,” you said quietly, cradling him with your touch.

Leon’s body tensed slightly, his face now hidden in the crook of your neck. His warm and even breathing sent shivers down your spine.

The man became silent for a moment, taking his time before he replied, “I don’t believe these are stories that I should make you listen to.”

He preferred not to bring his work home.

You didn’t insist—you have always respected his choices. You left a kiss on his temple while Leon hugged you tighter.

“I’ll listen to anything you’d be willing to tell me, handsome.”

He smiled; you could feel his lips stretching out on the skin of your neck. It wasn’t a trust issue; Kennedy could tell that much—but he needed time to gather the courage to drag you into his waking nightmare.

“Maybe one day, sweetheart,” Leon sighed deeply, his tone calm as he admitted; his eyes now closed. “Maybe one day.”

You spent the next minutes running fingers through his hair until he drifted back into a blissful sleep.

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phoenixkaptain · 1 year

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I have So Many thoughts about Scum Villain I have so many feelings I am overflowing with Them I am drowning in it I am dying

Shen Qingqiu telling everyone (including himself!) that he didn’t mourn for Binghe, okay? He did not mourn for him! He just repaired his first sword and buried it in his back garden so he could sit by it for hours at a time! He just felt so guilty that he concocted an entire elaborate ploy to off himself but still live so that Luo Binghe could get revenge on him! He just stopped eating because he didn’t have to eat in the first place and food tastes bland when it’s not made by Binghe! He called out Binghe’s name and compared Gongyi Xiao to Binghe and thought about Binghe at least once every three sentences, but he was Not mourning! He was just vibing, okay, you don’t get it-

The extra where Shen Qingqiu sees Luo Binghe during the five years he was dead. And Luo Binghe is working diligently and always busy and makes food everyday like he’s waiting for Shen Qingqiu to wake up. And he says he doesn’t know how much longer he can take it, but he takes it for years and would’ve taken it for even longer if he had to. And he holds Shen Qingqiu’s body to feed him qi and Shen Qingqiu recognizes it as the way he held Luo Binghe when he got hurt. And even though loterally everyone thought Luo Binghe was doing awful things to Shen Qingqiu’s body, all evidence points to him just holding it. Luo Binghe never touched Shen Qingqiu inappropriately and he was so sad and he was so broken.

The part where Luo Binghe says “Theoretically, how would someone go about showing another person that they have strong feelings for them?”

Mobei-jun: “Have you tried beating him up three times a day?”

Luo Binghe: “Mobei-jun, you are uninvited from answering.”

Shang Qinghua thinking about Peerless Cucumber everytime he gets insulted and getting nostalgic about it, but then pretending he only “just remembered” the username when he actually meets Shen Qingqiu and finds out he’s the one Shang Qinghua has been fondly remembering for literal years. You only remembered just barely, huh, Shang Qinghua? Yeah, okay, sure…

Shen Qingqiu was purposefully pretending to be stupid so that Liu Qingge would beat up his own Bai Zhan Peak disciples. Shen Qingqiu finds out they were bullying Luo Binghe and vows to get revenge, he was purposefully playing dumb so that Liu Qingge would volunteer someone to come up and then he’d go, “whoop, haha, silly me, you were right, Shidi :)”

Shang Qinghua comes back from a trip and everyone is talking about how weird Shen Qingqiu is acting and he’s like “What? What happened? How is he acting strange?” and Yue Qingyuan replies “He had a peaceful conversation with me for two hours” and Shang Qinghua immediately goes “He’s cursed, he’s definitely cursed, is he dying??”

Everyone else: “Shen-shixiong is being nice to us…”

Yue Qingyuan: “Is there any way to get Shen-shidi back to normal?”

Everyone else, internally: “Maybe, but I’m not looking for it.”

The entire Holy Mausoleum section. It’s stuck with me for two years. I love all of it. From beginning to end. The entire section, the moment Shen Qingqiu wakes up in a coffin to the moment Shen Qingqiu and Luo Binghe get out. All of it. Every single thing that happens is comedy gold and I will never get over it.

But of course there are highlights.

Shen Qingqiu, knocking on a coffin he can’t open, trying to hide from the things wandering around trying to kill him: “Excuse me, may I come in?”

Tianlang-jun, inside that coffin: “Sure.”

Shen Qingqiu just casually carting his boy Binghe around. Hanging out. Trying not to die. Getting stabbed multiple times and having plants grow out of his legs. The usual.

The Old Huan Hua Palace Master being a human stick. At first, Shen Qingqiu is like “omg Binghe is insane.” Then, after the Old Palace Master acts creepy towards Binghe and kind of implies creepiness about Binghe’s mom, Shen Qingqiu goes: “No, wait, yeah, this guy deserves this and worse.”

Shen Qingqiu: sits up in his coffin

Meng Mo: “I can’t help you wake up Luo Binghe.”

Shen Qingqiu: lays back down in his coffin

Meng Mo: “What are you- Are you going back to sleep?!”

Shen Qingqiu calling Zhuzhi-lang “Xizhi-lang” and Zhuzhi-lang tripping over his own feet then just sighing and letting him do whatever

Tianlang-jun: “Why do you know so much about the Holy Mausoleum?”

Shen Qingqiu:

Shen Qingqiu: “LOOK a DISTRACTION!”

Luo Binghe: “Why do you know so much about the Holy Mausoleum?”

Shen Qingqiu: “I read about it in one of Qing Jing Peak’s books.”

Luo Binghe, previous head disciple who has all of the books that have ever been on Qing Jing Peak memorised: “I see. I don’t recall that one.”

Shen Qingqiu:

Shen Qingqiu: “Oh hey look, a distraction-“

Tianlang-jun asking Shen Qingqiu to help him up and then his arm popping off.

Tianlang-jun just generally being the weirdest fucking guy. Tries to be a wingman for his nephew. Helped conspire with his nephew to bring a dead guy back to life. Has been stuck under a mountain and says it was for ten years, despite the fact that it was almost certainly longer than that. Sings the song about Shen Qingqiu fucking his son and then bluntly asks “Did you fuck my son?” Says “I was looking forward to meeting you” specifically because of the song about Shen Qingqiu fucking his son.

Tianlang-jun, just in general, is one of my favourite parts of Scum Villain. Like, he’s so… he’s my poor little meow meow. He is my scrungly. He literally falls apart and is just kind of like “Again? Dang.” A bunch of cultivators show up to thwart him and he’s like “I expected more of you.” He realizes that Shen Qingqiu, Zhuzhi-lang, and Luo Binghe were all in the same bed together and is like “Does Shen Qingqiu always need two others?” He walks in on that scene, only seeing Zhuzhi-lang and Shen Qingqiu, and says “Continue, please, don’t let me interrupt.” Finds out his wifey wasn’t apart of the plot to trap him under the mountain and even tried to save him and immediately melts like the marshmallow-hearted maiden he is.

Pre-trapped-under-a-mountain Tianlang-jun is a treat too. Finds his nephew and immediately says “You’re so ugly. Have a bunch of soldiers and land. Bye.” Meets Su Xiyan and becomes insufferable. “Zhuzhi-lang, am I ugly? Zhuzhi-lang, don’t you think my face is worth more than two silver pieces? Zhuzhi-lang, human women are so different than what I’ve read. Zhuzhi-lang, be honest, am I obnoxious?” He literally tries to barter over how attractive his face is and is legitimately pleased when Su Xiyan says it’s worth a gold coin. Zhuzhi-lang describes him as being the sugar baby and Su Xiyan being his sugar daddy, but Tianlang-jun not only doesn’t mind, he even seems to enjoy it. Zhuzhi-lang describes him as a pure-hearted maiden falling for a roguish cultivator. Zhuzhi-lang has the terrible realization that, in his own metaphor, he’s the handmaiden who follows her innocent lady around trying to keep her out of trouble.

My favourite part will always be the reveal though. The reveal that, after a whole novel dreading it, Luo Binghe is the antagonist. Luo Binghe purposefully led these cultivators and monks and priests to Tianlang-jun and let them all think Tianlang-jun was the one fuelling Xin Mo. Tianlang-jun says “I can’t even fuel Zhuzhi-lang’s human form, how could I fuel Xin Mo?” and everyone feels like they were thrust under cold water. Luo Binghe stands there and smiles and adjusts his sleeves and doesn’t care because none of these cultivators can touch him, most of them were taken out during the fight with Tianlang-jun, and Luo Binghe has basically already won.

He says that he hates Shen Qingqiu choosing others over him. Shen Qingqiu always chooses someone or something else. Shen Qingqiu always leaves when he asks him to stay. Luo Binnghe says that he’s going to make sure Shen Qingqiu has no other choice. If Luo Binghe isn’t his first choice, then Binghe will become his only choice. He’s willing to destroy the human realm and the demon realm both so that Shen Qingqiu will only be able to choose him.

One of the monks is like “That’s kind of fucked up. You’re just going to make him hate you.”

Luo Binghe: “Shizun can hate me all he wants, as long as he never leaves. And he won’t be able to leave.”

Luo Binghe is the ultimate villain. He is literally unstoppable. He is almost totally unkillable. He’s the final boss, but he’s a boss who’s always scripted to win. He’s more powerful than all of them combined and he’s gone actually insane because he can’t control Xin Mo. Xin Mo is feeding all his insecurities and Luo Binhe decided that the cure was to tie Shen Qingqiu to him with a leash too tight to escape.

He is absolutely terrifying, in this moment. He’s insane. He’s outright telling everyone that he’s destroying everything they love because if he doesn’t, Shen Qingqiu might choose one of them over him.

He’s - so - cool!

Luo Binghe is always cool, he’s so badass, but this moment just cements how absolutely unhinged he is!! He is insane!! He is manipulative and silver-tongued and adaptable!! He is grabbing the narrative with both hands and forcing it to be the way he wants it to be! He’s so cool, he’s so very cool, and I get chills when I read this part, he’s too cool!!

And I’ve already made a long post about how meaningful it is that Shen Qingqiu ultimately does choose Luo Binghe. Even out of a world-ending event, he still chooses Luo Binghe. Shen Qingqiu only didn’t choose him before because he didn’t know that was an option. For the rest of the novel and all the extras that take place post-canon, he seeks out Binghe. He’s the sticky one.

He says he hurt Luo Binghe’s feelings by saying he didn’t want to sleep in his bed and he’s upset because he was going to give in if Binghe just pushed a bit further! He thinks Binghe is in danger and takes him to Qing Jing Peak and tells everyone not to bully him and tells Luo Binghe that he can beat up the Bai Zhan Peak disciples as much as he wants, as long as they don’t die. He patches him up and just generally sticks to him. In the extra where Binghe shrinks, he takes baby Binghe everywhere. He holds his hand and he’s obsessed with how cute he is and he can’t get over how cute he is and he wants to show off to everyone else how cute he is. He’s having the time of his life, and only gets upset when everyone thinks baby Binghe is his child because Luo Binghe is at least eight, when would he have had him? And he’s a man, that too.

(Ming Fan: “I just assumed Luo Binghe was a demon and demons could do what they wanted.”)

Shen Qingqiu travels everywhere with Binghe and teases Binghe and likes admiring Binghe because Binghe is so handsome and charming and wonderful and-

The succubus extra where he goes to a succubus’ cave with Liu Qingge and is too flustered to look at the naked women everywhere and is very impressed by Liu Qingge’s disinterest in all of them. Gets his fortune read because he thought it might be fun and is like “…yeah, okay, sure, like this is true” and it turns out to be completely true. Thinks Madam Meiyin is weird because she never even officially joined Binghe’s harem, what a weirdo, who wouldn’t want to join Binghe’s harem? Pushes Liu Qingge into a pond to help him get over sex pollen.

Shen Qingqiu is such a madlad. He transmigrates and is like “I’m not going to be stupid and panic and make everyone suspicious of me 🙄” then becomes the most suspicious man on the planet by treating his martial siblings and disciples slightly better than dirt. He’s as obsessed with Luo Binghe as Binghe is with him, but pretends (poorly) that he isn’t. Agrees to do what Binghe wants to do while admitting that Binghe is definitely manipulating him, but Binghe is so cute, how can he say no? Thinks his little white lotus disciple is as pure as a maiden while Luo Binghe is over there desperately trying not to get a boner.

Shen Qingqiu never figures out that Luo Binghe messed up excersizes on purpose as an excuse to cling to him. It doesn’t even cross his mind. He thinks Luo Binghe was just clumsy. He thinks it’s a bit weird, since Luo Binghe is so good as everything else, but figures it’s just something Binghe was going through. Literally never crosses his mind that it was purposeful. Doesn’t even pop up as an option. He remains completely oblivious to that, even after Luo Binghe literally tells him he’s been horny for him since he was a disciple. Shen Qingqiu just does not realize.

I also really like MoShang, I promise, I find their dynamic to be honestly quite sweet, especially since Mobei-jun is just a spoiled princess who isn’t used to having to ask for what he wants. Luo Binghe and Mobei-jun respect each other and might even be a bit fond of each other, but good God, Mobei-jun, do not give me romantic advice, I swear. Shang Qinghua is constantly like “Cucumber-bro is so stupid, how can he not notice Binghe’s feelings?” and Mobei-jun is behind him slowly counting to five thousand in an attempt not to punch anymore holes through the walls. Great dynamic, 10/10, at least Shen Qingqiu eventually realizes that Binghe’s into him, Shang Qinghua doesn’t get the hint.

I like Yue Qingyuan being like “My sword is my life. Quite literally, it is my life. Accidentally combined my life force in my sword, whoops, now I lose a few years everytime I pull my sword out ¯\ _(ツ)_/¯”

Qi Qingqi is constantly like “Shen Qingqiu, the most annoying man I know. I would sell him for a half-eaten, unsalted tortilla chip. I hate this man’s guts. He is staring at my darling prized disciple but not even in a horny way. He is obsessed with Luo Binghe and never stops bragging about him. He acts like he’s delicate just to get out of having to ride a horse. He’s so lame, so cringe, a loser, the worst.” And near the end she’s like “I guess Shen-shixiong isn’t actually the absolute worst man ever- What do you mean he chose to date the heavenly demon disciple who not only caused him to die, but also threatened to destroy the entire world and everyone on it?! Shen Qingqiu is the stupidest piece of shit man I swear I’m going to murder him with my bare hands and no body will blame me, they’ll probably thank me-“

Mu Qingfang: “Shen-shixiong is being… kind to me? Shen-shixiong… smiled? Shen-shixiong is… being the most reckless man alive, oh no, Shen-shixiong, no!”

Liu Qingge, hanging up pictures of Shen Qingqiu: “I hate Shen Qingqiu.”

All of Luo Binghe’s wives are in sorry states. Well, all of them aside from Ning Yingying, who is living her best life as number two Shizun supporter (number one is Luo Binghe), and Liu Mingyan, who is also living her best life, but by writing porn about her brother’s closest (read: only) friend and a demon. Sha Hualing is in constant suffering because Luo Binghe is a tyrant and also had the gall to ask her for advice on getting into another man’s pants. The Little Palace Mistress was certainly very rude, but Luo Binghe threw her emotional support whip into acid. That’s a bit rude. The others are either dead or Luo Binghe just never notices him because he’s too distracted trying to woo Shen Qingqiu.

Ning Yingying and Liu Mingyan got off lucky. Ning Yingying, especially, really drew the luckiest lot. She went from an airhead who accidentally said things that got her buddy in trouble to a talented cultivator who purposefully says things that get her into fights. Love her picking fights with anyone who badmouths her Shizun. She tried so hard to share the number 1 Shizun fan spot with Luo Binghe, but probably decided that she didn’t want to die and backed off. She apologizes to Luo Binghe because she knows he likes to be the only one to clean Shen Qingqiu’s house. The bestest girl.

Speaking of Bing-ge, I love him. That should be obvious (I wrote a whole fic just to let him be happy) but I really like him. I like when he says “Is this about last time we met? It was on me, Shizun, I swear…” like he didn’t rip Shen Qingqiu’s arm off. I like when he’s fucking pissed that he’s losing and furious that it’s to this weaker, insignificant version of himself who is happy and in love and Shen Qingqiu cares about him and he got to taste that, just briefly, just barely he got to taste how it felt to be loved by Shen Qingqiu, only for a day, he got to feel an ounce of the easy affection and love that didn’t have to lead to sex and that was protective of him instead of expecting him to be protective of them. Shen Qingqiu didn’t expect him to be the strong one, didn’t expect him to be the powerful demon lord, had no expectations at all aside from expecting affection.

And he says “Come with me” like he’s begging for it. He doesn’t understand. He feels like it’s unfair that he didn’t get a loving Shizun. He wants that love. He wants to be chosen. And, ultimately, he leaves, but it just left an impact on me. The way he expected to find a catch but only found that Shen Qingqiu was willing to die for him.

Anyway, all that said, Scum Villain’s pretty okay. I only lie awake thinking about it occasionally. It’s alright.

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ma1dita · 3 months

Text

if you need to be mean (be mean to me)

a ‘partners in crime’ installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader

words: 1.5k

summary: (established relationship) The one where he leaves before you wake up. You and Luke both can't ignore what's in front of you—and both of you feel guilty leading up to that night (Luke Castellan x dionysus!reader)

warnings: suggestive mdni if you’re uncomfortable – nondescript mentions of sex

a/n: someones gotta take mitski away from the pjo editors for fucks sake. yes, this is based off of ‘i don’t smoke’ (audiotree live) don’t look at me.

(posted 1/30/24 thanks to my betas ellie and lari @lixzey & @mrsaluado )

'lovers, or partners in crime' comes directly after

___

[ you come down and tell me, “i was meant for you”, baby || being with you makes the flame burn good ]

Your father once told you when you were younger that you were a divining rod for mayhem; you attract it, cause it, and in very few instances, you are the cure. It’s why your roles and responsibilities at camp hid you away from your full potential, and Luke knew you could achieve greatness if you left with him. He understood your madness more than you’ll ever know, and saw you for what you are–his cure. But he made his choice long before he recognized his devotion to you, distancing himself in order to fulfill his plans of waging war against the gods. Sweet and sultry words slip from his lips to distract you from the growing distance of his heart from yours. A distraction is what he’s always been, and he’s good at playing the part. After all, everything he’s learned about deception and acting, he’s picked up from you.

The guilt still sits heavy in his heart as he watches you walk around your bedroom the night before he leaves. Luke’s wondered if there’s any way he can convince you to come with him, but he knows your heart is softer than his, more forgiving. He thinks his damnation is past forgiveness anyway.

You trod over to meet him on your bed, hands full of moisturizer as you climb onto his lap and you look so willing and pliant to whatever he’ll say next. Luke knows you’ve been extra gentle with him lately, and it makes him sigh. This would be easier if you hated each other. But that’s the farthest thing from the truth.

Soft hands rub the moisturizer into his skin, delicately caressing his scar, and when he opens his eyes again, you’re smiling and looking how he wants to remember you. His lovely girl, who holds his rage like someone should’ve held his 9-year-old self running away from home. His hands settle around your hips, holding onto you until he can’t anymore and Luke wonders if there was any prophecy out there that could’ve told him that he’d always be running home to you. He just has to take the long way home this time.

By morning, you might not look at him with this much love, and he’s not even sure you’ll forgive him, so he pulls you into a kiss so deep that even Kronos’s attacks on his mind can’t pull him away.

“Mmmm,” you moan, gasping for air as he continues the assault down your neck, marking you with his lips so you have something to remember him by, “Not that I’m complaining, but what’s gotten into you, angelface?” If only you knew.

“Can’t help it baby, you’ve got a face I’d go to war for,” he mutters, pressing another kiss to your lips, “and a heart I’d die for.” He’s smiling into your cheek, but his expression falters for a moment when you look into his golden-flecked eyes.

Maybe you know more than you let on, awareness cognizant in your features. The jig is up, and he’s ready for you to call him out on it—but a half smile falls upon your face instead, and for some reason, this feels like the inevitable goodbye. There was never much you two could hide from each other after all.

“I know it’s been hard lately, Luke. But let me take your pain away. Please,” and it sounds almost like you’re begging.

The both of you are a little guilty tonight, hearts heavy and conscious of what this means for the both of you, hoping that your actions will suffice as the coercion, the explanation, the apology— instead of the unspoken truth that will come to light when you wake.

___

[ if you need to be mean, be mean to me || i can take it and put it inside of me ]

Both of you are more desperate tonight, bodies moving languidly like you have all the time in the world. It’s a conversation in itself as he ruts into you, trying to stuff you to the brim so you won’t forget what it’s like to feel him in your bones.

‘Promise you’ll remember me.’

Here, in the confines of cabin 12, you are his alone, and there are no gods or monsters that can take away the feeling of you from under his fingertips. Yours are grasping onto his arms, leaving crescent-shaped indents as you will away whatever’s eating at his brain, and through the golden glint of his irises, for a moment he looks like himself again, unburdened and soft.

‘Is there any other way?’

He’s convinced your wanton moans are his salvation, legs thrown over his shoulders, and his name in your mouth. You’re hanging onto him for dear life as he melts into you, and you wonder if you hold on any tighter, maybe this won’t have to end. But the both of you are chasing an inescapable conclusion, obstructing any thoughts or words with another tangle of your lips.

‘I don’t know how to be without you.’

Tongues clashing like swords for one last battle, and there’s no winner at the end of this one, no matter how good it feels.

“Luke, p-please!”

The scream rattles your throat and his fingers graze your pulsepoint as he moans lowly, watching your eyes roll back. It’s undetermined what you’re asking for, but the both of you bask in what comes after, him falling into your embrace as you writhe at the thought of wondering if this is the only glory you can offer him and if it’s enough to satiate his inherent need for revenge.

‘How do you expect me to forget you?’

___

[ if your hands need to break more than trinkets in your room || you can lean on my arm as you break my heart || just don’t leave me alone wondering where you are ]

'You could fix him.'

The thought echoes as loudly as Kronos’ orders recalibrate in his brain the edges blurred from your powers, and he stares up at the glow-in-the-dark stars on your ceiling as he lets out a deep breath.

His mind is clearer than it’s been in months, and his gaze turns to see you watching him, messy hair framing your sleepy face. Your eyelids flutter slowly as you both take each other in, immortalizing this moment with both of you hoping the other will change their mind. Luke pulls your hand to his lips, kissing each of your fingertips before holding it over his heart. If there was anything else you could do to extract his madness, you’ve already exhausted all your efforts. And if there was a way to make you see his perspective, he’s run out of words to convince you. Both of you are stubborn and more like your fathers than you care to admit; what a shame that neither of you has the power to prove them wrong. The fear is the only thing keeping you both awake now. If you close your eyes, you might never see him again.

“You need to rest now, baby. Think I’m gonna stay up for a little while longer,” Luke whispers into the dim light.

“Are you gonna stay here tonight?” The words slur from your lips as you fight the weight of your eyelids, desperate for a moment longer with your lover. You hope that even as you lose consciousness you’ll still be able to finish the job for his sake.

“There’s nowhere else I’d be, trouble.”

___

[ i am stronger than you give me credit for ]

As soon as he’s sure you’re asleep, he lifts your hand off his heart and sneaks out from under your covers without a sound. Pulling his clothes on and grabbing his converse, Luke makes sure there’s no trace left of him here. It’ll be easier for you when you wake up, less of his mess to pick up after. He looks around your room and admires how it’s a museum of your relationship—a liberty he was never able to have or fully share with you in cabin 11.

Surely that’s the gods’ fault too, that he’s never had anything to call his own besides you and the space you share with him wholeheartedly. His fingers hover over the photos of you two tacked to your bulletin board, and the flowers he picked from the field sitting in a vase. Luke turns to you, creeping to your sleeping figure, and tucks you in properly under the duvet, hands seamlessly making his side of the bed. He tries to ignore your outstretched hand resting on his pillow.

At the very least, Luke hopes you know that he cares for you so meticulously in this way, knowing that he’s about to lose himself as soon as he walks off the campgrounds. He hovers over the foot of your bed, inhaling the scent of berries and linen for one last time.

“It’s you and me, trouble. I love you.”

Every step he takes towards the door and down the stairs of your loft is a nail in his coffin.

Luke chooses to wage war upon the world so that when you find him again, he’ll be a better man.

A hero.

All for you.

He just hopes that he can see it through.

___

“To make her happy, I would invent God if I had to.” -Marguerite Duras

next part: lovers, or partners in crime

ask to be added to general/luke taglists!

luke taglist (struck out won't let me tag, turn on my post notifs?): @kissingyourgrl @dorcas4meadowes @lorarri @andrewgarfldsgf @noodlesketchbook @10ava01 @poppysrin @ashisabitgay @timhalamet @liv1104 @leeknows-wife @mxtokko @bugcuti3 @luvvfromme @midmourn @2hiigh2cry @yuminako @niktwazny303 @lukecastellandefender @intergalactic-padawan @iliketopgun @annybah @dangelnleif @thegrinningghost @alyssajunelle @obxstiles @m00ng4z3r @visndcaitswhore @b0ok-lover @elegant-face-tree @this-barbie-is-having-breakdowns @amortencjja @idonevenknow1359 @maliaaaa @targaryenluvs @sakyira @dhdjdjjdhsjdiri @number-onekidqueen @nininehaaa @bradynoonswife @stevenknightmarc @hoodedhavok @happy-mushrooms @homebyeleven @anotherblackreader @too-deviant @liviessun @lilacspider @theadventuresofanartist @sucker4seresin @simpforsunwoo @zanzie @starrystormwritings

#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x dionysus!reader #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo x reader #pjo imagine #luke castellan angst #made by ma1dita ♥︎#trouble!verse #thank you for reading my love ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

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storiesforthemoonchild · 3 months

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"i dream of you. all i do, is dream of you." Alexia after you feel she's drifting away from you

Dreaming of You | Alexia Putellas x Reader

You were used to waiting, it felt inevitable these days. The minutes ticking by as you watch the clock above the fireplace, just hoping Alexia returns before sleep consumes you. It was nearly midnight, and you just wanted to see her, hear her voice, feel her, anything would do at this point.

For the past several months it felt like you only got the shell of her, the leftover bits after she gives herself to everyone else. She’s gone before you wake and arrives well after you’ve retired to bed. She was busy, you understood that, but texts go unanswered and calls sent to voicemail add an extra sting.

You want to bring it up, but every time the two of you finally get to share a second you let it go. Just deciding to be happy with the fact you have this moment with her holding you and telling you she loves you. That’s all you want. No, it’s what you need.

You hear the front door and straighten your posture. You watch as she drops her things by the door and heads to the kitchen for a glass of water. Her shoulders sag as she runs a hand through her hair and lets out a heavy sigh. Again you want to forget the conversation you’ve planned. You want to go to her and comfort her because you know she’s exhausted, but so are you.

Her eyes finally scan over the room and meet yours from your spot on the couch. Something close to relief looks like it crosses her face but you can’t be sure. A tender smile is sent your way and it calms you temporarily. She shuffles her way around the island and takes her place beside you. Her head finding its way in your lap like it was made just for her.

“Why are you not sleeping bebé?” She questions you, eyes closing as you instinctively begin to massage her scalp.

The words die on your lips, faltering as usual just because she’s with you. “I’m losing you,” you whisper your concern after several agonizing minutes. You fear for a second that she might’ve fallen asleep until you feel her tense.

Alexia sits up, frazzled by the statement and suddenly looking more awake than she has since walking through the door. “I don’t understand what you mean.”

Alexia looks lost, eyes darting around your face for any shred of a clue. “I- somethings not right. Something with us. It doesn’t feel like I have you anymore.”

“¿Qué? Amor, I am yours. Por favor, tell me what is wrong,” she begs, cupping your face in between her hands.

Her gentle, but firm hold on your face brings more comfort. A tear sliding down your cheek is quickly wiped away with the pad of her thumb. “You don’t feel real anymore. I miss you. I miss waking up to you, hearing your voice, kissing you, holding you. I miss you Ale,” Alexia cuts off your rant with a searing kiss, tears threatening to spill from her eyes. “I dream of you. All I do is dream of you. That’s all I have left.”

“No,” her rigid response makes you flinch and she’s quick to apologize. “Lo siento. Amor, I am real. Touch me, I am right here.” She uses her hands to guide yours around her body. Tears are freely flowing from both of your eyes now.

You shake your head through the sobs, “I need you here Alexia. I know you are busy, so am I, but we have to find each other again. If not, I fear this will be our en-,” Alexia’s lips are on yours before you can finish your statement.

“Please do not say that. Te amo mucho mi vida. I will be here,” she cries and you’ve never seen Alexia so broken. You’ve never seen her look so desperate.

You feel guilty for a moment cause you didn’t want to cause her any hurt. “I love you too,” you tell her and pull her into your arms, feeling the tears staining your shirt.

You don’t know how much time passes before you both have calmed down. Alexia’s head finally lifts from where she slotted herself in your embrace. “I’m sorry I haven’t been here. I will be better. You are my dream, amor.”

You believed her, you would always believe her. You knew Alexia loved you, sometimes you both just got lost and needed to be reeled back in. “I know, you are my dream too.”

a/n: sorry if you wanted Ale to say the line.. I wrote it both ways and liked this one better. hope you enjoy anon :)

#alexia putellas #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas imagine #woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso imagine #barca femeni x reader

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periprose · 6 months

Note

Hi! :)

I’m craving some Logan Howlett angsty fluff and I really like your writing style… Do you think you could maybe do a fic where either Logan and reader are in the heat of the moment and his claws come out and he scratches her. Or where Logan has a nightmare and the same thing happens. Either way the reader ends up comforting him.

Thank you! 🩷 :)

Hi!! So sorry for getting to this so late 🥹 loved the idea btw :) ended up doing a bit of a mix of both? If that makes sense.

"Out with it."

Your voice rings out clearly among the X-Men, the throng of battle no longer around you all. It was a more exhausting battle than you would've thought, but nothing irks you more than knowing that Logan has been apparently thinking of you as someone to play babysitter to. He hadn't trusted you to make your final blow to the enemy, and instead scooped you away to safety before lashing out with his own claws.

Logan clearly has something to say to you, and you want to hear it. You're not going to let him escape again- the way he always does, nonchalantly, refusing to acknowledge how he treats you.

Charles stiffens next to you in the helicarrier. Watching the tension, feeling the palpable heart-wrenching sensation between you and Logan. He doesn't know how you got to this point.

"Listen. Just because you didn't have it doesn't mean you're not a good X-Man-" Logan starts dismissively.

"But I did! I did have it!" You shout back at him, and then inhale carefully. "Nobody told you to rescue me, Logan. If I was about to die, then I was. I wanted that to be on my own terms."

"Don't talk like you're a fucking martyr when you've never had the privilege, kid." Logan's unnecessarily harsh tone has you flinching. "Do you know how many people I've seen die, for no good reason? Do you really want a bunch of Pentagon psychos to be your last memory?"

"Shut up." You shift in your seat, feeling small. "We don't get to choose when we die. Not like you."

Logan becomes visibly angered with that, the little taunt you've made towards his immortality. "That doesn't mean you have to go seek it out, dumbass."

"Oh really? Don't tell me you're getting soft, Logan." You glare at him, and Charles and Jean and Scott look at each other uncertainly. "Just because your life is so long doesn't mean the rest of us have forgotten what it means to be alive."

There's an unspoken, sudden charge in the air, now that you've mentioned what everyone else has the good sense to shut up about- Logan having lived so long and not caring about the consequences of his actions. Logan's eyes narrow until you feel sure that you've pushed him too far this time- he looks more animal than human, more Wolverine than ever- and you feel yourself inching forward, letting the anger of not being understood push you to fighting him- and Charles suddenly raises his hand in protest.

"Please, you two. I'm not sure what has transpired today, but I know you are better than choosing to have a physical altercation on a helicarrier flight." His calm, soothing tone makes you feel a little disappointed in yourself, and you settle back in your seat, refusing to meet his or Jean's glances of concern.

All you really wanted was an apology. A "Sorry, I won't do that again." Or even an explanation for why Logan keeps tabs on you all the time, never letting you be a real part of the X-Men, always safely on the sidelines. Were you just too weak?

Should you even be here?

You feel guilty for what you said to him. It's not a bad thing, you know, that Logan doesn't want you to get hurt- it's just that you want to do your job. You're not a kid.

It almost, almost justifies how you treated him, but even you know that was too far. You can't act as if you know Logan's life story- not even Charles or Jean would claim to do that, and they've searched his mind for memories several times.

Like it or not, the man was mysterious. He kept to himself on a lot of things, citing past hurt as his reason why- and you should've respected that.

"Maybe I am weak." You mutter to yourself, wondering why you can't restrain your emotions around Logan.

You're practicing shooting small, psionic blasts towards the target in your room- it's a great way to pass the time when you can't sleep- when you hear a groan, a shudder, an angry, deep growl-

It sounds like Logan. His room is right above yours, and the sounds are definitely coming from there- you hear him yell, and before you can stop yourself, you're bounding up the stairs to the third floor of the X-Mansion, bursting through his room's door with a ready hand, in case you need to fight.

Logan watches as you berate him in his dream.

Actually, it's not quite you- it's some venomous, evil, witch wearing your face. You giggle at him- you call him old- you don't take him seriously.

With every taunt, you fire another bright purple blast at him- and for once, his body doesn't heal instantaneously. He is getting old, getting hurt, watching as blood pools out of him. It's agonizingly painful.

He's going to die this time, without making it right with you- he's afraid that you're right about him, that he's a washed up sad old man who can't ever let people in.

"We don't need you anymore, Logan..." The not-you whispers softly, smiling a smile that doesn't quite reach your eyes, and Logan can't help but believe it.

His self preservation instincts kick in, and he launches forward, snarling, claws out with a sharp snikt sound. He feels that even though he'll regret your death, he'll miss you immensely, it's just one more tally mark to several others.

"Logan. Logan!"

You're leaning over Logan's sweaty, clammy body in his bed. You watch as his hands fist in the sheets, and he tosses and turns in agony- you breathe in hesitation, in fear that he's not going to be okay- he grunts suddenly, and you're reminded of how Rogue tells you about his nightmares. They're frequent.

How out of touch could you have been today?

You gently-yet-firmly grab Logan's arm, shaking, and his arms move forward in a self-defense mechanism that seems practiced, as if he's been attacked in his sleep before, and before you can move away, there's a sharp snikt sound, a quick wave of claws, and a searing pain in your side.

It all happens before you can even blink. You fall off to the side, on the floor, writhing in pain. Logan's claws just nicked your side, it's essentially a scratch- but the pain is so much worse than you're expecting, and you fall to the floor again as you try to get up.

You breathe in harshly, holding back a sob, as you feel wet blood pooling through the side of your night dress.

"Jesus Christ." Logan pounces off the bed, waking to blood all over his claws, and he's leaning over your body, as you blink up at him hesitantly. He immediately panics, lifting you up and resting you on his squatted thighs. "Kid! Hey, kid, don't close your eyes-"

"..." You're just barely hanging on, but you listen.

And Logan feels that same sense of shame he felt when he attacked Rogue, when Jean "died", every single time he had accidentally unsheathed his claws towards someone who didn't deserve it.

Doubly so, considering it's like his terrible nightmare has come to life. But you absolutely didn't do anything wrong- he can't believe he was so angry with you.

He calls for help, in a slightly broken tone, and no one seems to be coming.

"Just a scratch." You try, but Logan shakes his head.

"No, no, no." Logan spits out. "How could I- I never meant to-"

"I'm sorry, Logan." You cough, and Logan feels awful that you're apologizing while bleeding out due to his actions. "I shouldn't have said what I said. You're not some unreliable old man who doesn't care..."

You flinch at a sudden, sharp pain, and Logan motions for you to stop talking, but you keep going.

"If anything, you're the opposite. You're there for me. And I'm sorry that I got so... so angry at you for that." You mutter to yourself, not aware of how Logan hangs onto your words. "You're protecting me from making mistakes, and I'm grateful."

"No, kid. You had a point before." Logan interjects, but you shake your head.

"Did I? Or was I being a brat?" You grimace at yourself.

"You did have a point. I was being selfish," Logan shakes his head and then swallows that urge to push you away. "I don't always know how to leave people well enough alone. Sometimes I'm too much."

He hesitates, and then continues on. "Like, I treat you as if you're a nuisance, right? But I always... I always want you next to me. And I know I should just sort my shit out like an adult. But I'm scared."

"Scared?"

"Of what happens. What always happens." Logan sighs in defeat. "I fall in love, and they die. I find my people, and they leave me because I'm such a jackass. There's too much surrounding me that just... ruins everything."

"No, no. I won't leave." You tighten your hand around Logan's, and he, despite wanting to say that you're wounded because of him, believes you. He's so grateful to hear you say it- he had no idea that's what was weighing on him so badly.

He loves you, he knows he does. Logan has never been the best with feelings, but for once, he's glad he was honest.

The first thing Scott sees when he finally makes his way to Logan's room, from all the way across the X-Mansion, is Logan whispering "I'm sorry," and... he thinks (he's not 100% sure), "I love you," to your very forlorn, softly curved-around-him body.

It's a very tender moment, and Scott feels he should leave.

Then Logan presses a firm, shaky kiss on your forehead, and then your lips, and you, with your limited reserve of energy, kiss him back, and then Scott interjects with:

"Hey!...?"

He seems taken aback as you both look at him. "I heard screaming? What is this, some sort of weird cult sacrificial scenario?"

"Logan... had a... nightmare..." You wince, and Scott sees the red on your night gown. "I need... medical attention."

"On it." Scott glances at Logan for permission, and he's currently trying to push all these mushy feelings back into his chest where they belong, and he wants to be there to help you in the clinic, but he's flustered with everything that's happened and he can only hand you to Scott without looking at him.

Scott smirks to himself as he runs you to the clinic of the X-Mansion.

"You and Logan, huh? I knew there was something in that fight today." Scott remarks as you cling to him.

"It's taken an embarrassingly long time for me to figure it out, but yeah." You blush. "Has everyone else...?"

"Jean's been running a bet for the last year." Scott laughs. "She says you both are two sides of the same coin."

You can't help but agree.

#logan x reader #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett #logan howlett angst #logan howlett x you #wolverine x you #wolverine x reader #wolverine #old man logan #wolverine angst #james logan howlett x reader #marvel x reader #xmen x reader #x men x reader #x-men #x-men x reader #x-men angst #ask #requests

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silkscream · 4 months

Text

resurrection

yuuta okkotsu x reader

ੈ✩ wc: 1.5k

ੈ✩ tags: smut (18+, ageless + blank blogs will be blocked), yandere!yuuta (ish), obsession, death (yuuta literally brings you back to life), best friends to lovers, dubcon just to be safe (ur both so out of it lol), angst, not edited we die like men

ੈ✩ a/n: idk where this came from ok. runs away

you hadn’t prepared for death.

it was foolish of you. the prospect of it crossed your mind from the moment you stepped foot into jujutsu tech, yet it didn’t truly seep into your brain until your last few breaths. you were too busy wrapped up in the world of sorcery, naive and easily excited. you didn’t know how to be selfish.

evidently, neither did yuuta.

this is why you wake up in his arms, heart nearly hammering out of your chest from adrenaline. a corpse reborn.

you assumed death wouldn’t be so gory, that you’d go out in a blink and be welcomed with darkness. you never thought there would be a possibility for you to come back. it feels more like purgatory than reality, to be honest. and yet, the feeling of cold hands on you is more real than anything else — the touch makes your insides churn. your skin hot.

he shakes as he says your name. a pleading thing.

your mind swims with fog. your guardian angel is awfully pretty. pale, delicate skin with a split lip. black, shaggy hair hanging down over his dark blue eyes. long, slender fingers that grasp you with urgency. you blink twice and the angel is made in the image of your best friend.

“y-yuuta?”

“you— you’re okay,” he sobs. his teardrops fall onto your cheek.

“i’m okay,” you repeat.

you’re surprised when he kisses you square on the mouth, feverish in his movements, desperate in the insistence of his tongue past your lips. you stay like this for a bit — mindless and wrapped up in him. tasting copper and mint. he releases you when he hears you whine.

“yuuta—”

“fuck, i’m sorry. i’m sorry.”

“it’s okay,” you whisper. you hang your head on his shoulder with eyes closed. the stench of blood surrounds you. the spills of cadavers that aren’t able to curse anyone anymore.

“i love you so much. couldn’t let you leave me. i’m sorry.”

“you’re apologizing for bringing me back to life?”

his eyes are wide like a deer running from a gunshot. you’ve never seen him like this. yuuta was often a ball of anxiety, but his strength always made up for it. at the moment, his fear makes him look younger.

“i didn’t want to hurt you. i could’ve… killed you if i didn’t do it right.”

“wasn’t i already dead?”

he swallows the lump in his throat, nodding. face full of dread. everything about him is so delicate despite his strength. everything about him is lithe, tender. you feel guilty for not dying.

“i’m sorry,” you stammer, despite knowing you don’t have anything to apologize for, even with your stupid guilt plaguing you. your train of thought runs off its tracks. the only constant is the boy in front of you.

“i love you too, yuuta.”

the way he stares at you is terrifying in a way that you can’t put into words. you still haven’t grasped reality in a way that makes sense since waking up in his arms, which continue to tighten around you. there’s lust in his eyes — like he wants to devour you. you know you’d let him, but your disorientation holds you back.

your best friend brought you back to life, and waking up in his arms feels like heaven. for some reason, it also feels like a courtroom. you think that the devil must be lurking around the corner awaiting your judgment.

yuuta must sense your fear because he kisses you again, more gently this time. your apprehension dissipates, melts into nothing as you revel in the touch of his hands roaming your body. despite being blood-stained, heavy with dread, you feel light and bare with him. you want to be bare with him.

“don’t ever leave me again,” he presses with a hard gaze. as if your dying was your fault. (later, you'll blame yourself.)

“i won’t,” you whisper.

“you know i’d do anything for you, right?”

“really?”

“yeah. anything you want.”

“why’s that?” you blink at him slowly, still out of it slightly. his warmth brings you back to reality in doses.

“because i think you deserve it.”

you’re lost in him. consumed in all of him — from the softness of his hair underneath your fingertips to the feeling of his breath on your cheek. it sends butterflies to your core, makes you delirious in your post-death state. he’s all you know right now.

“what do you think i deserve, yuuta?”

he gnaws on his bottom lip, tries to regulate his breathing. yuuta is definitely not thinking about you on his lap right now. of course not.

“don’t ask me that when you already know the answer,” he rasps. “don’t even — i can’t even put it into words. everything. everything good in this world.”

it’s you who kisses him first this time, hard enough that he loses his balance and doesn’t bother to maintain an upward stance. instead, he lets you straddle him, his back falling onto the ground as your hair falls from your face and tickles his forehead. you lap up his sighs with your mouth and your tongue. the groan that reverberates from his throat excites you.

you’re reckless. a grind of your hips has him panting and you want to tear him up. maybe you’ve been fooled and this really is the afterlife.

but no, everything about yuuta beneath you is so fucking real. his breath. his calloused fingertips trailing along the bruised flesh underneath your torn shirt.

it doesn’t matter, you think to yourself. whether you’re drunk on the strongest liquor or if you’ve ascended to heaven after a gruesome death, you think that god has a soft spot for you. it's the only way you could indulge in this kind of softness, isn't it?

yuuta pulls away from your mouth, a centimeter in distance from you, just to mewl your name.

heaven. you’re convinced it’s heaven. you had died and no one saved you, you think, but your best friend is there to greet you before you settle into your grave. in this case, you'd be fine with your death.

“need you, yuuta,” you whine. “need you so bad.”

your guardian angel would do anything for you, wouldn’t he? he’d spoken his vows to you just moments before, and he intends to follow through with them. but not until he taunts you in the slightest bit.

“what do you need, baby? hm?”

you groan, grazing your fingernails into the flesh underneath his shirt. squeezing at the muscle. pleading. you don’t register what comes out of your mouth. something like a prayer, of wanting him inside, of him fucking you back to earth. in your dreamlike state, you don’t care. as long as the proximity between you and your angel is close in distance, skin to skin. you’d live inside him if you could.

(he had thought the same of you since the moment he met you.)

time slows. you blink a few times, eyelashes fluttering until you’re met with the deepest warmth you could ever feel. a collision of nerves.

yuuta buries himself inside you and you cry out to the universe. he drinks up your moans with his wet mouth, arms clutching your body tightly so that you can’t move.

although he’d brought you back to life, he thinks he could die just from the feeling of being inside you. your warmth could lay him to rest, with blissful peace on all sides.

you — his best friend, his lover, his executioner.

and him — your best friend, your lover, your deity. the one who brought you back to the living.

he hushes sweet nothings into your neck as he cradles you. successions of i love you, i love you, i love you—

and you come undone. it’s the first time tonight you truly feel like you’ve come back to life. power surges through your veins as your eyes awaken to the sheer attention that the earth demands of you.

you inhale once, then exhale, and your eyes meet midnight ocean blues blinking back at you. this is when you feel alive again. maybe the most alive you’ve ever felt in your short life.

“yuuta,” you breathe.

“i’ve got you, baby,” he coos, wrapping you in his clothing. wrapping you in his arms. “let’s go home.”

when you wake up in yuuta’s bed the next morning, it all feels like a bad nightmare that only haunted you in your sleep. yet the evidence is all there — bruises on your sides, dried blood on your thighs.

(it was the violent curse that killed you, for sure, but you have flashbacks of yuuta and wonder how strong his hands actually are.)

“yuuta,” you whine.

“baby,” he responds, his voice groggy. “it’s so early, isn’t it?”

“maybe.”

”we can celebrate your new life in a few hours. promise.”

“what if i die again within that time frame?” you pout, curling into him. he lets you, meshes your body into his side.

“i wouldn’t let that happen,” he rasps, kissing your temple. “you’re not allowed to die again. and if you do, i might curse you. and you know how that goes.”

#jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk x you #okkotsu yuuta x reader #okkotsu yuuta x you #yuuta x reader #yuuta x you #yuta okkotsu #yuuta okkotsu #yuuta smut #yuuta okkotsu smut #yandere #too many tags so little time... Bye

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coryosbaby · 5 months

Text

—𝓑𝓸𝓻𝓷 𝓣𝓸 𝓓𝓲𝓮

reaper ash x fem! victor! reader

synopsis: finding comfort in the arms of another.

content warning . angst, loss of virginity, nsfw

Having an ally in this inescapable game of life and death is never something you expected— but life seems to always surprise you.

When you’re reaped into the games you lock eyes with him the moment your name is called— he’s right across from you, after all, sporting a hat and a dark blue shirt. You see the look on his face, the anger in his eyes. And then his name is called, too. And that anger still stays, even more fiery this time. You both approach the stage. They announce your names. You’re both sent off.

And from then on, it’s you and Reaper.

—

When you’re thrown into the train, he takes a seat beside you. Bats fly in, much to your horror, and Reaper hits them off of you— every. single. one.

—

When they dump you out both in that cage, after a long days worth of shitty, dehumanizing news interviews, the sun goes down and it’s night. No one is awake, and the relief you feel from that should be all you need. But the fear of the dark plagues you so intensely that your breathing becomes heavy and tears start to stream down your cheeks. You hold your head in your hands before you feel a presence beside you.

He doesn’t say anything, at first. He sits there comfortably, as if it’s the most normal thing in the world to sit beside you in this rotted cage. You sniffle, looking up to him. He avoids your gaze.

“I’m afraid of the dark, too.” He says, and it comforts you to know that you aren’t alone.

“Really?” You ask, wiping your eyes.

He doesn’t reply to you. He merely sets his hat down beside him, rests on an old rubbery tire behind the two of you, and closes his eyes.

—

When you’re both in the games, right before the countdown, Reaper speaks to you again.

“Don’t trust anyone here,” he warns you. “And stay close to me.”

You do. And you feel incredibly guilty that you can’t be of much help. But it doesn’t matter, not really.

You find a place to hide out. It’s dark, it’s damp, it’s scary. But it’s safe from the other tributes. You know neither of you can wait this out forever. You know one or the other has to die, or maybe both. But you stay there.

—

It starts as a way to keep warm.

Hours in, the dank room becomes cold. Your dress holds no real protection against the draft flowing into the room, and you shiver. Reaper’s hands ghost over your shoulder, and you jump. He looks at you tiredly.

“If we move close, we can keep warm.” He suggests, and he’s clever for that. So you move towards him, laying down on the hard concrete, your back facing him, and he wraps you in his big arms. His breath fans against your neck, a small sigh leaving him as he presses his hips against you. You feel the comforting lull of sleep.

Things escalate, after that.

With the comforting lull of sleep comes comfort itself. And when one is comforted, one may crave the touch of another. Reaper’s hips are touching you again, but this time they’re moving. He’s hard in his pants, pressing himself up against your ass. You wake with a start when he groans low and throaty in your ear, and your hand moves to slap his shoulder to awaken him.

“Reaper,” you whisper to him, so quiet you don’t even hear yourself. But somehow, he does. His eyes flutter open, looking around now alarmed and worried of a possible intruder. But you just shush him, and tell him that it’s okay. He looks at you then, feeling the way his own body has reacted against his own accord. His gaze turns heavy, and he watches you on lifted elbows as your eyes dart to his crotch.

It’s not intentional.

Really, it’s not. It’s not intentional when your lips land on his, it’s not intentional when his hands grab your arms and guide you into his lap. It’s not.

But it happens. His hands run along the small of your back and then they feel up your chest. It’s too cold to take all of your clothes off, so you don’t.

But kissing him now, you’re starting to feel quite warm.

Your dress is lifted, your underwear pulled down to your ankles, and Reaper is prodding at your entrance with a gentleness that you don’t expect from him. He’s big, something you’re not against but this is your first time so it’s intimidating. It hurts for a moment, with no lubrication except for your wetness, a grating, burning sensation that you really didn’t prepare for. But after a moment, a moment of his hands holding your hips down, a moment of his cock sitting inside your gummy walls, you begin to want more. Your hips slide, your cunt growing wetter than before and his cockhead grazing a spot inside you that feels oh so delicious. You throw your head back, whining out his name with sweetness on your tongue. His hand covers your mouth, shushing.

“You’ll wake them,” he says. “Be a good girl. Be quiet f’me.”

And you can’t help but quiver at that, burying your face into his neck and breathing in his scent. It’s sweat and musk now, but you can still catch a hint of soap and for a moment you’re almost back home. His fingers grip your ass cheeks and he gains leverage underneath you so he can begin to fuck up into you even more harsh. Tears well in your eyes, and he breathes shakily when he sees it.

“Don’t cry,” he mutters soothingly. “It’s all gonna be okay. Just hold onto me.”

You both know that isn’t true, but it’s better to not think about that right now. You hold onto him tighter, cry into his shoulder even though he told you not to. His fingers move down and he rubs small circles into your swollen bundle of nerves, making your legs shake and electric sparks shoot up your spine as you cum. You let out a strangled gasp when it happens, all breathy and sweet. Reaper shutters against you, his balls drawing up tight, and he spills thick ropes inside of you and holds you down onto him to take every last drop. When he rides out those waves of pleasure, he still keeps himself inside. He presses a kiss to your forehead, and grips the fabric of your dress in his hands.

“I’m sorry.” He says to you, and you know what he means.

You lay there with him after that, looking up at the cracked and moldy ceiling. He lets you wrap your legs around his waist and rest on top of him. Your exhausted body forms bruises and your cunt drips with his release as you sleep, but it doesn’t matter— none of it does. You’ll both be dead by morning.

#reaper ash #reaper ash x reader #reaper ash x fem! reader #reaper ash smut #reaper tbosas fanfic #reaper tbosas #reaper ash fanfic #thg #the hunger games #hunger games #the hunger games fanfic #tbosas #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #the ballad of songs and snakes fanfic

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hoonvrs · 8 months

Text

FROM THE START — p. sunghoon

PAIRING sunghoon x fmr

GENRE idiots2lovers, fluff, unrequited love (?), getting together

WARNINGS mentions of blood and death ( hoons just dramatic ), swearing, they're idiots ur honour

W. COUNT 2.6k

S. NOTE god bless laufey.

sunghoon hopes that you don’t notice the shift in his demeanour. how he’s loud and obnoxious when you both are surrounded by your friends, but suddenly becomes quiet when he finds himself in situations alone with you.

it’s not intentional. being surrounded by friends helps keep the intrusive thoughts of confessing to you at bay, but those urges come tenfold when there is no one else around. it’s just hard for him to find the words to speak to you when all his senses are overloaded with you, feeling his words get stuck in his throat whenever you look his way.

looks that do not help the urges mind you. a tiny voice in his head tries to delude that each glance holds something, that she might actually feel the same but sunghoon has always been a logical person. convinced himself that the softness in your eyes and the smile on your lips were because you were a kind person, definitely not reserved only for him.

you’re both sitting on a bench in the courtyard, facing each other after the others had classes they had to rush to. “so sunghoon, anything new?”

sunghoon has never been more grateful for your skill to hold conversations, fearing he’d burst out into love confessions if he tried to start the conversation. he could hear the voices screaming at him to tell you how he felt, seeing how the weather was beautiful and you both were alone. feeling an itch under his skin seeing you scratch and pull at your cuticles, wanting to reach over and hold your hands in his own.

“nothing much really, jay’s trying to convince me to make chocolates with him for white day.” he noticed you slightly perk up.

“already? white day is in three weeks,” you giggled, hiding your smile behind the sleeve of your sweater. he wished he could lean forward and move your arm, wanting to see your smile on full display for him to use in his scenarios when he's falling asleep, “do you not have someone you want to give the chocolates to hoonie?”

if this was a shojo manga you’d see sunghoon's nose bursting with blood after hearing the nickname escape your lips. it wasn’t the first time you’d given him a cute nickname and not the first time that one was used on him but it has a different feeling when you use it.

seeing you still looking at him with something in your eyes he couldn’t quite pin, “no?”

your smile slightly widened at his answer, seeing the glint disappear, “is that a question?”

he laughed under his breath, trying to avoid eye contact before he got down on one knee and proposed, feeling heat rise from his neck to his face. “why, are you expecting something from someone?”

sunghoon wanted the ground to swallow him whole. he didn’t expect his statement to be so straightforward but decided to save the embarrassment for him to wallow in later when he heard you laugh.

“maybe.”

nevermind. sunghoon wanted lightning to strike him where he sat he could already feel the little bit of his brain that thought he had a chance shrivel up and die. and if there was something sunghoon was almost as good at as he is at skating, it’s hiding his feeling. “really, who?”

just because his hope and dreams with you have decided to up and leave, he’d never let that ruin your friendship. maybe, along the line, he could prove himself to be worthy of your affection.

a light pink dusted your cheeks slightly, “i’m not telling. but he’s so perfect, he’s funny—”

a burning pain started bubbling at the pit of his stomach, feeling his spread its flames through his body rapidly. rejection would’ve probably been more merciful than listening to the girl you are in love with talk about her ‘perfect’ crush.

he felt a little guilty that his brain tuned you out when you carried on explaining your new soulmate, but sunghoons was sure if he kept listening to you talk about how much you adored the dimple on the side of this unknown man’s face he’d rip his hair out in front of you.

he internally thanked the lord when he saw a message from his mother asking of his whereabouts, knowing he wouldn’t be able to find an excuse to leave you without sobbing his heart out, “i’m so sorry y/n, i think i need to head home now. mums texting.”

he flipped the screen to show you. just because you so happened to be in love with someone else doesn’t mean he’d start treating you any differently. It just meant he had some competition.

“no worries! i should start heading home too,” you smiled, grabbing your bag as you both stood up. before he could react, he saw your figure rounding the table towards him, pulling him into a hug. “get home safely!” sunghoon stood there for a few minutes alone, staring at the path you disappeared from like the idiot he was before a call broke his thoughts, “hello? i'm walking home now.”

sunghoon thinks he’s going insane.

currently lying on his bed in the same position that he was in two hours ago, just staring at the ceiling. you can’t really blame him, he was being ‘productive’ in his words — which actually meant thinking about you in random scenarios where you both were happily married with a dog.

the only reason these daydreams last longer than the average person is because sunghoon has no control over his mind. one minute he’s confessing to you with a song as you sit there shocked because sunghoon can hold a note when he wants to, but it seems the possibility that his love may be unrequited still loomed over his thoughts.

suddenly, you’re looking at him with pity, saying you have feelings for someone else that wasn’t him. even in his delusions he’s not safe from the terrifying and very real chance that you may not be harbouring any feelings that are in any way romantic towards him.

rolling over to smother himself in his pillow so his sister wouldn't hear him screaming at the top of his lungs, which he quickly realised was useless as he heard her voice shouting ‘shut up!’ from down the hallway.

maybe it wasn’t the right moment to start thrashing around in his bed like those girls in dramas when their crushes notice them, except his crush isn’t noticing him in the way he wants, because that’s exactly what jay and jake walk in on, “bro. what the fuck are you doing?”

sunghoon would’ve been more embarrassed if the boys currently welcoming themselves into his room hadn't already witnessed him at his lowest, but that didn’t stop him from being annoyed that his personal time with you ( in his head ) was cut short. “who even let you in?”

“mama park,” jay said, throwing himself on the bean bag beside his bed, “now why are you throwing a tantrum by yourself? did y/n reject you?”

“no,” sunghoon grumbled, throwing a dirty look towards the other two boys who were looking for any signs of a broken heart. “i haven’t even confessed yet.”

jake throws him a funny look that sunghoon would’ve taken more offence to if it wasn’t for what he said right after, “that’s if you even get a chance, i heard that junseo from heeseungs class is planning to ask her out!” you’d think they were talking about regular school gossip with the way jay and jake were invested as if talking about strangers who probably didn’t even know their names and not sunghoon's wife and mother of his kids.

well not kids, dog.

if jake hadn’t been sat at his desk on the other side of the room he would’ve lunged at him, instead opting to throw pillows using all his strength with malicious intent. he couldn’t understand jake screaming over his own voice, “what do you mean?!”

the only reason he stopped his attack was because he ran out of things left to throw, unless jake provoked him enough to throw his lamp at him, “dude! what is wrong with you?!”

“when is he asking her?” you’d think the soul of john wick possessed sunghoons body with the way he was staring at his friend who was acting as if he’d just been hit by bricks and not a few feathers.

“i don’t fucking know!” jake carries on to wail dramatically, the usual, “i’m calling the police, can’t believe you just assaulted me.”

sunghoon blocked out the sounds of jay and jake bickering as the situation dawned on him. he was going to lose you.

throwing himself back onto his bed like the prepubescent girl he was, going back to looking at the ceiling. except this time all his scenarios end in you saying the god-forsaken words.

‘i have a boyfriend.’

then out comes junseo with his big biceps, and his big beady eyes ( they’re actually very beautiful but sunghoons trying to wallow in self-pity right now ) and probably more experienced in life being a year older, of course, you’d be into older guys; not immature boys who still can’t leave his leg out the blanket in case a demon drags him into hell.

i mean, that doesn’t sound as bad as you getting with somebody that’s not him.

sunghoon had to ask you first, the possibility of you also liking him back is low but not zero. he had to take his chances.

in his delusions, sunghoon always imagined confessing to you romantically. preferably in front of the eiffel tower that he rented out just for you because he’s also super mega rich in these scenarios, or in the rain by a random lake where he’ll confess and you’ll pull him into a passionate kiss as a reply because you’ve always shown your words through your ( even in his dreams ). or even the odd times where he catches himself imagining confessing to you infant of the whole student population because he’d just watched bunny girl senpai — courtesy of his soobin-hyung — i mean, he has always had a knack of embarrassing himself in front of you so it’s not too far fetched.

but not this. never had he imagined himself walking to your house at 5pm in his pyjamas, he’d contemplated waiting for the sunset so at least there be a pretty view but he knew he’d have chickened out if he waited another few hours.

this decision was last minute, hence the outfit choice, he could hear his blood rushing past his ears and his heart beating out his chest as he picked up his step, hoping to get to you before the adrenaline wore out and he was back to square one.

he was hasty but not stupid. he had made sure to message you beforehand to ask if you were even home because if he walked 45 minutes just to face your parents he thinks he’d just start crying, and thank the lord you were. you’d even supplied that you were currently home alone and sunghoon saw that as a sign from god that it was time.

you’d think walking almost an hour he would’ve had enough time to compose a proper confession, with pretty words and flowery notes but to his core sunghoon was an idiot. so instead he spent his time wisely by going through every negative scenario possible.

you could slam your door in his face or slap him or even laugh in the middle of his speech cause he has a habit of stuttering when nervous. he doesn’t quite know which one would be worse, he just hopes that you let him down slowly and knowing you, you would. you’d probably reject him in the nicest way possible that wouldn’t even leave enough room for him to dwell on his broken heart, you were always sweet like that.

next thing you know, sunghoon is standing in front of your door showing no intention to actually ring your doorbell as he tries to calm his nerves down and of course, that would be the moment you open the door. there goes his effort as he feels his heart rate pick up again, “oh! you got here quickly hoonie.”

all sunghoon can hear is buzzing as he watches you smile at him. how could anyone expect him to even be able to think straight with you looking at him like that, it was already unfair that you looked so cute in your pyjamas whilst he probably looked like he’s been evading the police for weeks now.

“are you okay?” you wave your hand in front of his face. not the first time since he was known of his habit of daydreaming randomly but something stops working when you start to speak again, “did you hurt yourself on the way h—“

“i like you.”

he’s fucked it. no harm in just digging his own grave deeper by rambling the rest of his feelings.

“like a lot. a lot a lot, like i’m basically in love with you. it’s like cupid is shooting arrows at my heart every time you talk to me and i know it sounds crazy but to me, it’s not, i didn’t even realise it at the beginning since it was a constant feeling around you but now I’ve known it’s because i’ve loved you from the start and i wasn’t supposed to confess to you like this like. i had a whole plan and speech and all but i had to do it right now or i don’t know if i ever would’ve.”

maybe he would’ve appreciated it if you cut him off ( preferably by a kiss ) to save him some embarrassment and to cut his long speech short because he can’t figure out exactly what the look on your face meant. “we’re so stupid.” you laughed, bending over in a fit of giggles leaving sunghoon confused, “this whole time we’ve liked each other all this time and didn’t even know.”

your words repeated in his head like a mantra liked each other, liked each other, liked each other. sunghoon thinks he’s going to faint.

“you like me back?”

sunghoon might start believing in god because his late-night fantasies suddenly became reality when you pulled him connecting your lips. it was only brief, a short peck, but sunghoon felt like he was on cloud nine, “that was nice.”

all he got back was a quick look of disapproval before you pulled him into your house.

sunghoon wished he didn’t tell you about junseo, because now he was watching you wheeze whilst trying to not throw yourself off of the couch and crack your head open. he can admit he got a little in his head over some rumour jake told with him but look where that got him now — a kiss and his feeling reciprocated.

after you composed yourself ( barely ) you spoke out breathily, “well, at least now you can tell junseo you’re my boyfriend.”

sunghoon should be concerned about how quickly his body shut down after hearing those words, “boyfriend?” “after all that we’re not going to date?” you sighed, already used to his slow tendencies, giving him a minute to catch his breath.

“we are! oh my god, you’re my girlfriend now.”

“congrats!” you gave him little jazz hands, he could already hear jays voice in the back of his mind playfully reprimanding you for indulging his antics. “you did what junseo couldn’t.”

yeah, he definitely regrets telling you because no way you’re ever letting that go. but some sacrifices must be made and if it keeps you this happy and makes you laugh that loud, sunghoon is willing to put his dignity on the line. or whatever left of it.

because now he has you, and he always has. missing the longing glances you threw his way, your efforts to get him alone so you had an excuse to focus your sole attention on him and him only without raising suspicion between your friend group.

he’s always had you, from the start.

perm taglist @mesopret @whoschr @haknom @shinsou-rii @redm4ri @lacimolela @llama-lyna @boyfhee @lazysmushi @flwoie @kocokookie @kyexvly @seongclb @dammit-jjk @flwrshee @produmads @teddywonss @aleiouvre @dneltrise @aleiouvre @nyxvrse @yohanabanana @whois-alexis @sngvhs @tinyegg @sserafimez @satsuri3su @yuemvi @chirokookie @idk-tbh777 @seongclb

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royalsweetteaa · 9 months

Note

Hi! I really like your HC AU. Could you do one of how Cevans characters would react to reader flinching during an argument?

Oooh I love this idea! 🥹💔 Let’s get to it!

POV: Y/N flinches in midst of an argument.

Warning - The following HC contains: angst/fluff, comfort, reader has hinted trauma.

Steve Rogers

Steve would cut himself off and stare at you. “Doll, why did you wince like that?…did I raise my voice too loud? I didn’t mean to if I did but I….you know me…I have never and wouldn’t…” Steve begins to ramble a little with his words as he processes what just happened. “Who hurt you, my love? Please, tell me…I’m worried…this had to have come from somewhere, right?” Steve asks as he’s ready to receive an explanation while pulling you in to stroke your back gently. He listens, already plotting in his head to pay ‘someone’ a visit responsible for your trauma response.

Ransom Drysdale

Ransom raises his eyebrows as he sees you flinch and he furrows, confused. “Kitten,…did you seriously think I was about to hit you just now?” Ransom would ask with his arms crossed. “…Do you think I would steep that low?” A part of him takes offense as he first assumes that’s the whole story, but the pieces pick up slowly that this could have come from a previous encounter. He sighs, realizing he’s handling this poorly. “Darling…I didn’t mean for you to react that way. I hope you’re not scared of me…are you?” He’s relieved when you shake your head, and he decides it’s best if you both take a break from arguing. He comforts you, reassuring there’s nothing to be worried about. He hopes you’ll eventually tell him and explain on your own why you flinched.

Andy Barber

Andy would shut his mouth the moment he sees you flinch, and he would stay still as he processes the moment. When he receives your look of feeling guilty, his face softens, “Oh honey…it’s okay, let’s stop arguing about this and talk about what happened, okay? Did I scare you?” He asks first, not wanting to put much pressure on you. He wants to know right away if it was him who had caused you to flinch, and he wants you to feel safe so he speaks in his most soothing tone. When he sees you’re not reacting negatively to his closeness, he pulls you in to an embrace, making you feel safe.

Jake Jensen

Jake would stiffen, wondering what just happened to make you flinch. “Are you okay? You just flinched as if I was going to…” his heart breaks in a million pieces as he puts two and two together. He carefully takes your hands to give you reassurance. “Baby, what happened? Was it me?…You know you can talk to me about anything…I’m all ears, always.” Jake would reassure as he makes you sit down on the couch with him encouraging a chat about it. This incident would bother Jake for a long time, and he would often catch himself in future mid-arguments asking if he’s not coming across as too aggressive to make sure you won’t react like that ever again.

Johnny Storm

Johnny’s sentence would die out the moment he sees you wince and ask, “What was that?”, distraught and confused. “Did you just…” he doesn’t complete his sentence as he flattens his hands and raises them. “Babe,…I’m never putting my hand on you…my parents, while they died when I was very young raised me good enough to know that’s never okay…I wouldn’t do that even if you called me names or cursed at me like Ben always does!” He makes light out of the situation to distract you and pulls you in to caress you when he sees a small smile form on your lips, already leaving you two to forget about what you were even arguing about.

Ari Levinson

Ari’s response to you flinching would be to take a step back and give space between the two of you. He’s encountered women with traumatic responses before and knows that to deescalate the trigger, he needs to show he isn’t going to do any harm, like raising his hand. He would then say to you in a soothing voice, “Sweetheart,…I apologize if I came off as heated just now…let’s put this aside and think of something else, alright?” He would then crouch down, look up at you and making himself small to further deescalate your trauma response. You would respond getting closer to him and come into his welcoming and warm embrace, as you know Ari’s safe. It’s all forgotten and Ari doesn’t see any point of bringing up the argument again. Your feeling of safety comes first.

Thank you @imyourbratzdoll for helping me out a little on this one! ♥️🥰

Hearts & Reblogs are very appreciated! <3

#cevans characters hcs #cevans characters x reader #cevans characters #ce characters x reader #steve rogers x reader #ransom drysdale x reader #ari levinson x female reader #johnny storm x reader #jake jensen x reader #andy barber x reader #steve rogers x y/n #ransom drysdale x y/n #ari levinson x y/n #johnny storm x y/n #jake jensen x y/n #andy barber x y/n

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may-fanfic · 1 year

Text

Safe With You

summary: Wednesday keeps having nightmares of you dying after what happened to Eugene. She comes to you one night after a particularly bad nightmare and you’re there to comfort her.

warnings: mentions of death

word count: 1,002

((feel free to send in any request you may have 💕))

_________________

After Eugene's unfortunate incident, it seemed to leave a mark on Wednesday. Nearly every night, the girl would wake up in a cold sweat, gasping frantically for air, looking around the dark room desperately. The nightmares were always the same and ended the same. No matter what she did differently in the dreams, it'll always result in your demise, and each night, it would paralyze her with dread.

The nightmares forced her to witness you die over and over. She began to loathe the night, almost afraid of falling asleep. She could not stomach the thought of something happening to you, but the dreams were always in great detail. Wednesday feared it wasn't dreams but instead visions that came to her in a different form. Perhaps, it might be fate; she'd do anything to prevent that from happening.

Wednesday rose from her bed; her trembling feet met the cold wooden floor. She needed to see you for herself to ensure that you were well. She knew she could not return to bed without easing her pounding heart. "Wednesday?" a voice called out; the flick of the light made Wednesday squint; Enid looked concerned at the state of her roommate. "Go back to sleep, Enid." her voice was dry, and her throat burned; wiping her hairline, she brushed away the droplets of sweat.

"Are you okay? You're shaking," Enid asked with concern. Enid could see the faint tears that clouded Wednesday's eyes.

"I'm fine." She avoided her worried eyes. "Go to sleep." with that, Wednesday left her dorm, she knew she could get caught sneaking around the campus, but that had been the least of her concern. She didn't want to talk to anyone about her nightmares, especially not Enid. She knew Enid would be overbearing and want to shower her in love, Enid had a good heart, but there wasn't anyone else she wanted right now but you.

When she softly knocked on the door, her heart dropped at the lack of movement in the dorm until Yoko pulled the door open, eyeing her with confusion written on her expression. "Wednesday, it's 3 in the-"

"Enid is having a crisis." Yoko's eyes went wide, and she nodded quickly and pushed her way out the door. Once Yoko was out of sight, the girl stepped into the room, her eyes immediately finding your sleeping form. A sigh of relief left her lips as she made her way over. You looked peaceful enough, eyes fluttered closed and lips slightly parted. She hated to disturb you, but a small piece of her wanted nothing more. She called your name softly, a single finger sticking out to gently poke your cheek.

Your eyes snapped open suddenly; a soft yelp slipped past your lips; she took a quick step back at your response. "Wednesday?" you croaked out, squinting your eyes at her. "You nearly gave me a heart attack." You let out a gentle breath, leaning back into your bed.

"Sorry..." she trailed off, feeling guilty for interrupting you.

"It's alright," you replied, letting out a yawn. "What happened?" Wednesday took the opportunity to sit on the edge of your bed; she wasn't sure how to approach the topic. Wednesday flinched slightly when a soft hand found her back before easing into your touch.

"You're going to die." Her words seemed so sincere and broke as if god came down and told her himself of your destiny. A soft laugh slipped past your lips, but then she let out a soft sniffle, and all you felt was concern for your girlfriend.

"Wednesday... Where did you get that from?" You asked quietly, your hand softly rubbing circles into her back. Wednesday was tense, afraid that a single touch from you would have her head thrown back with a vision, and it would confirm just what she feared, but as you touched her, nothing happened.

"I dream it; every night." She felt some relief finally getting it off her chest. You sat up suddenly, your hand still pressed against her back; your movement caused the girl to glance over her shoulder, finding you sat on your knees beside her. Your hand found her shoulder, giving it a tight squeeze.

"Wednesday, It's nightmares. What happened to Eugene scared all of us." She let her shoulders drop, a soft sigh escaped her lips, leaning into you slightly. "But I'm going to be okay." You reassured, leaning down and pressing a gentle kiss against her neck. She could shiver at the sensation, letting her tired eyes fall closed. "And so will Eugene." You mumbled into her neck, causing Wednesday to nod.

"I know it's scary, but I'm right here." Wednesday shifted until she got a clear look at you; her soft hand reached up and found your cheek, her thumb caressing softly on your cheekbone. She wanted to feel you, make sure this hadn't just been another nightmare.

"If you have another one, you come here, okay?" She nodded, tugging you lightly until she could press the softest kiss to your lips. You always had a way of relaxing her; she felt safe with you and trusted you entirely.

"Do you want to go back to sleep?" You spoke in a hushed tone; your forehead leaned against hers; there was a slight panic at the thought of having to relive such things, but there was some comfort knowing you'd be there, so she nodded.

You smiled lightly, leaning back into your bed and opening your arms for Wednesday. She eyed you lightly and felt frozen in her place. You could see the hesitation in her eyes before she sighed and settled into your bed, letting herself snuggle into your chest. Her arm looped around your waist, eyes fluttered close. "This is pleasant." She spoke softly, a small smile tugging at her lips. You hummed back in agreement, pressing a warm kiss to her hairline.

For the first time in a week, Wednesday felt eased, and only then did she sleep peacefully.

#Wednesday #Wednesday Addams #wednesday series #wednesday addams x reader #netflix wednesday #wednesday x reader #wednesday x you #wednesday addams x female reader #wednesday addams fanfic #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x fem reader #wednesday imagine

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sunny-speaks · 10 months

Text

Early Mornings

Character(s): Ren from @14dayswithyou !! x reader

Renren fic!!

Just a real big self indulgent ren fic… cause while i absolutely act feral for my boy redacted, renren is a guilty pleasure for me !!

Fic under the cut, mild implied NSFW at the beginning and end! Pretty implicit imo, but I'd advise minors to DNI anyway !

It had been a couple weeks since you first had hooked up with that, as Teo called him, Cotton-candy mascot of yours, Ren. You weren’t sure why you invited him over that day, or why you decided to take things further to be fair.

But you regretted nothing.

As sunlight made its way through the slits of your semi-transparent curtains, filtering the UV rays to be less blinding, you looked over to your right as Ren slept soundly, arms posessively snaking around your waist as if he was scared of you leaving him.

Sometimes, you didn’t quite understand his protective urge to ‘keep you safe and protect’ you, but if it was a red flag, it was one that went unnoticed.

After all, your Renren was too cute to hurt a fly.

Even if he had those commonly odd mood swings of his.

You gently tucked away cotton candy coloured strands of hair behind his ears and parted his bangs before gently pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. And then another, and another, and so on.

Gently cupping his face, you saw the corners of his lips quiver slightly when you lovingly laid another kiss to the corner of his eyelids. You teasingly rolled your eyes, “You’ve been awake this whole time, hm?”

His eyelashes quickly fluttered open as nervous sky-blue eyes looked back at you, “M-maybe I was… W-Would that be so bad?” There’s the obvious tone of anxiety, but there’s an edge of teasing to his words. Maybe if you hadn’t grown so accustomed to it, you would’ve pointed it out.

“I mean, it just shows how much you enjoy being smothered by affection. You’re greedy, you know that, Ren?” Your words would cut deep if they weren’t laced with a teasing edge and the most beautiful smile he’s ever seen you wear in the morning.

Usually, he’d only be able to see your face through a camera. And while it was high quality, it’d never compare to having you choose to smile at him, instead of seeing you smile at something else. Now that he had a taste, there was no going back.

Even if it was an uncommon or common experience, seeing you smile at him only him, forever and ever and ever and ever was such an ethereal sensation, it made him only prouder he had given you the nickname Angel.

You paused before rubbing his flushed cheeks with your thumbs, giving him another forehead kiss. He could feel your smile grow against his skin and it gave him butterflies. “But you’re lucky I’m more than glad to make you happy.” You kissed him in the space between his eyebrows. “More than glad to spoil you with whatever you want.” A kiss to the corner of his left and right eyes. “More than glad to keep you with me forever.” And god, he hoped you didn’t see him shiver at that last line.

The mere thought of being with you made him so elated. But you choosing to keep him? Forever? You might as well have proposed to him on the spot! He would always be yours, if that's what you asked of him. And you wanted to give him anything he wanted?? No matter what it was?

Ah, he could’ve died happy. But he can’t die before you, of course!

He let out a shaky chuckle, “Mmm, I’m so unbelievably lucky to be with you, Angel. I’ll be yours forever, you just need to say the word.” He pulled himself closer to you and gently nuzzled into the nape of your neck.

You weren’t sure if you were the big spoon or the small spoon anymore, your legs entwined and chests pressed together. You could feel his breath fan against your collarbones as he tried to inhale as much of you as he could. You chuckled, a flustered note to your voice, “You’re a little too drowsy to be proposing now, Ren? With the way you’re talking it sounds like you enjoy me being possessive of you.” You combed through his hair, a playful grin on your face, “Bet you would like being called my Ren, huh?”

Woah.

That did things to him. A lot more intense than he would like to admit unfortunately… He was praying you didn’t feel anything twitch at your wording. ‘Your Ren?’ Like he belonged to you? Like he was yours to own? Yours to love? Yours to devote himself to?

His heart hammered in his chest and his whole body went flush. He tried to rein himself in, clearly not wanting things to escalate. It was still the beginning of the morning !

Of course, he would love to do nothing more than spend it with you all day. But you had to eat first, he wouldn’t let it slide if you skipped a meal! Your health is much more important than his… health.

You arched your back into him as you stretched, unknowingly(or maybe knowingly…) aggravating his problem much more than he would’ve liked. He stifled a low groan as you sat up in bed. “Well, we should probably start making breakfast… I picked up some groceries yesterday I think.” You peeled off your blanket and strolled towards the door before turning back at Ren. “You coming, or what?”

He looked dazed and in his own world, before snapping his attention at your voice immediately, red taking over his face, “A-Ah, um…! I’ll be right there!”

You paused and raised your eyebrows at him teasingly, “Clean yourself up after you take care of your problem, alright, Ren? Don’t forget, I’m in the room over, if you need any…” You sent him a mirthful wink, “Help.”

He let that sink in for a moment as you made your way to your kitchen before sinking his humiliated face into his hands. You had obviously looked down, hadn’t you?

He was wearing a small pair of shorts and his white top still, something… unfortunately prominent in his pants.

He let out a wistful sigh at his future actions. You both already knew what he was about to do.

A shaky whine chimed from your bedroom, “A-Angel… St-Stop teasing me…”And with a wide smirk, you made your way back to your beloved Ren, ready to give him everything he wanted and more.

#✨ full fic #yandere #yandere x reader #14dwy ren #ren x reader #14dwy x reader x #visual novel #14 days with you

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harlowcomehome · 7 months

Text

You deserve better:

You were on the phone with your best friend, rambling about your day when you saw an incoming call come through.

“It’s Jack” you groaned, mainly to humor her.

“Don’t act like you don’t want to answer that” she laughed, fully giving up on her words of advice to you.

“I just know you’re not a fan” you sighed, watching as his photo faded away.

“I just wish he’d stop playing games with you, but I know you want to call him so I’ll talk to you later.”

She was right, you wanted to call him back. You checked your texts, already receiving one from him.

Jack: When you have time, call me.

You got comfortable into bed, knowing your calls usually would last a long time.

“Hey,” you greeted him as he answered in a panic.

“Y/N! Hey, do you have time to listen to me complain?” He nervously laughed, part of him felt guilty for depending on you so much but on the other hand, you had made yourself available to him.

“Always” you quietly laughed, blowing air out of your nose. You already knew what it was about.

“So I was on a work call today and she just doesn’t get it. She kept talking to me and wanting my undivided attention but you know how that goes” he started to complain about his girlfriend, like he did to you almost daily.

“Right?” You usually didn’t say much, knowing he just needed to get it out.

“So of course that starts an argument. It’s always the same argument, she doesn’t understand that work is my number one priority. My career is like my child, ya know?”

“I do! She should know that too” you hummed, getting comfortable under your sheets.

“I don’t know y/n. I feel bad for saying this but I just need her to understand that she’s second to this.”

“What if she never understands that though Jack?” You could feel yourself starting to get frustrated, and you hated knowing nothing would change.

“I think I’d have to move on right? That's the most logical thing” You could hear him chewing on the other end of the line.

“Are you barely eating dinner?” You pulled your phone away from your face checking the time.

“Yeah? She was supposed to cook but when we started arguing she told me to fend for myself” he nervously laughed, knowing how you felt about her already.

“Jack- you know that’s not normal right?”

“I mean, everyone has quirks” he couldn’t defend her, he had nothing else to say.

“How much longer are you going to put up with this?”

“It’s hard y/n.” He sighed, feeling like you didn’t get it.

“What’s hard about it? You have tons of women who would die for a second of your attention, it’s not like if you broke up you’d be all alone.”

“They want me for what I have no who I am.”

“You won’t think you deserve to be treated better though? She’s not very nice to you.”

“I’ve already put so much time into this relationship, I don’t want to start all over” he admitted for the first time.

“So you’d rather be someone’s human punching bag?” You sat up in bed, fully prepared to argue with him. You usually didn’t say much but you were growing more and more frustrated.

“I don’t want to be alone.”

“You won’t be? I’m right here” You were trying not to cry, knowing he was going to say something dumb to break your heart for the hundredth time.

“You know what I mean!”

“You mean, my company isn’t enough and you don’t see me in that way. Got it.” You hung up the phone, immediately putting it on airplane mode.

Jack didn’t get a chance to react before hearing the call end, he knew you had feelings for him but he was afraid to change his situation.

He was about to call you back when he heard his front door slam shut.

“Jack? Baby? Did you eat? I’m sorry!” She called out from the foyer, holding a casserole dish.

Jack leaned over the railing, looking over his staircase to see her standing there full of regret.

“I think you should go, I have to catch a flight.”

#Jack Harlow #Jack Harlow x reader #Jack Harlow angst #jack harlow concepts #jack harlow blurb #jack harlow imagines

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pagannatural · 18 days

Text

2.11 Playthings 👭👬

-episode of my life. If you only ever watch one episode of supernatural let it be this one. Creepy dolls creepy dollhouse creepy little girls a lonely Connecticut inn a desperate drunken tousle between the incest brothers. It doesn’t get any better than this.

-Dean gives Sam a hard time about suggesting a case after they’ve been looking for Ava for a month. Dean doesn’t even know Ava, but he’s spent the last month looking for her because it was important to Sam. When Sam doesn’t respond to Dean’s teasing, he backs right off. Dean is controlling and possessive but he is also respectful and considerate because he thinks the world of Sam.

-Dean says Sam’s attitude “is just way too healthy for me, I’m officially uncomfortable now” which is funny because it’s not true that Sam’s attitude is healthy and he will get drunk and misbehave about it, but it checks out that Dean is uncomfortable with healthy dynamics.

-Sam smirks at Dean’s joke in this really cute way. It shows that he still looks up to Dean, even though he wouldn’t admit it.

-the innkeeper mistakes them for a gay couple and assumes they’ll want a king sized bed and Sam says “what? No—no two singles. We’re just brothers.”

Spot the difference between these two pictures

That mighty flustered, genuinely panicky “just brothers” sounds exactly like a “we’re just friends” moment between a will they/won’t they couple and it’s so weird that he says it that way. A normal answer would be “oh this is my brother” and then everybody moves on. But this is a tv show and there’s a reason for this scene to be included in this episode. It highlights that the nature of their relationship as brothers is more layered, and this messy denial tells the viewer that there is a romantic/sexual layer.

Back in Asylum in s1, Dean was mistaken for Sam’s boss specifically to make it clear to the viewer that Dean had more authority in their dynamic at the time, which played into Sam’s anger at Dean. This is a similar way for an outsider’s interpretation of the relationship to shed light on it. Their individual reactions to the assumption that they’re a romantic couple are meaningfully different—Sam is embarrassed and nervous like he’s been caught. Dean is feeling some kind of way.

He looks guilty, like he’s doing something wrong. He played along with people thinking he and Sam were a couple in Bugs and went as far as to slap Sam’s ass and call him honey. He seems pretty comfortable with his sexuality and with people being gay in general, like the joke he made about the only real thing about him being his boobs or the time he sarcastically told a scowling male store owner that his smile really lights up a room. He’s playful, he’s not weird about it (until season 8 but that’s another post). So something else is going on here.

His attitude toward this kind of mistake has changed since season 1. A lot has happened, but I think the point at which things shifted for Dean was that moment in Croatoan when he decided that he was going to stay with and protect Sam when they thought he was infected. The episode was a major turning point for Dean. That’s what pushed him to finally tell Sam what John said, and it was the first time Dean really thought Sam was going to die. It also paralleled the scene from Provenance in which Sam almost puts his feelings for Dean into words. Back then, Dean was able to take control of the situation to avoid Sam’s feelings and his own. In Croatoan, he’s the one forced to consider his feelings and why he would live and die and kill for Sam, and Sam alone. It’s no longer possible for him to ignore the feelings between them. He knows or suspects strongly that Sam has feelings for him, and now he can’t deny that he does too. It’s one of his major conflicts moving forward.

-Dean asks Sam why people always assume they’re gay, saying it’s a “troubling question,” and Sam says “you are kind of butch. They probably think you’re overcompensating” which Dean takes in as though it’s an equally troubling revelation. They look like a couple, and therefore they look queer, from the outside: Sam with his shy demeanor, soft voice, longish hair, deference to Dean in most situations (Dean goes to the front desk, Sam hangs back a little, his body mostly facing Dean), and just general feminine-coding throughout the show. Dean with his cropped hair, gravelly voice, overconfidence, and constant womanizing.

Queer people have this shared experience of never feeling like they’re doing masculinity or femininity correctly, and knowing or realizing that other people can tell they don’t fit in, but not really being able to name what they’re doing wrong. Sam is too feminine and Dean is too masculine and when they’re together they read as a gay couple.

Croatoan drew attention to this too, but again, it’s not really about coding them as lgbt, it’s about coding them as queer and incestuous in a gothic, monstrous way. They are Other and it’s in their blood just like the monsters they hunt.

-Dean has Sam pretend to love dolls, to further underscore his feminine role in their relationship for the viewer. It would be so cute if Sam really did love dolls as a kid.

-Dean tells Sam not to look at porn in their room, apropos of nothing.

-someone else dies. Shot of Sam, damsel, gazing out the window of his tower as the body is carried out and Dean talks to the innkeeper.

Dean goes into their room, where Sam is sitting facing away from the open door in a way that feels foreboding, like something is wrong. It’s similar to the shot of Rose a little later in the episode, with her in her chair facing away from the door.

Sam is drunk because he couldn’t save the guy who died, and “the more people I save the more I can change.” He’s afraid of becoming corrupted and at least some part of him believes that he will (that he already is) and needs to make up for it.

Sam says Dean has to watch out for him “and if I ever turn into something that I’m not you have to kill me.” He argues that John said Dean has to and Dean says “Yeah well dad’s an ass” which is a very bold thing for Dean to say about the dead father he once idolized. He obeyed John to keep Sam safe, and he’s finally letting himself be angry with John.

Sam says even now everyone around him dies. He says “please, Dean, you’re the only one who can do it. Promise.”

So Sam is drunk and in crisis over believing that he will become evil, in this episode that makes sure to emphasize the sexual undertones in his relationship with his brother, in an interaction that looks charged and erotic. He’s begging his brother to kill him rather than let him fall, holding onto Dean’s shirt and pulling him down toward him, his eyes locked on Dean’s.

Dean says “Don’t ask that of me” but Sam gives him the puppiest tear-filled eyes so Dean lies, he says “I promise.” At this point Sam is sitting on his bed and Dean is leaning over him, Sam grasping his shirt to keep him close and keep his attention.

Sam looks at Dean’s lips, says “thank you,” inhales, and grabs Dean’s face in both his hands, his thumb near the corner of Dean’s lip. It looks like he’s trying to kiss Dean. The fact that he inhaled rather than exhaled also just makes it feel more like a lead-up to something rather than a conclusion.

Dean pushes Sam away, closing his eyes as if conflicted, Sam still holding onto his face. It’s a little aggressive. Dean has to shove Sam off of him forcefully.

Dean pushes Sam onto his back on the bed, where he watches him turn to his stomach and nestle into the mattress, arching his lower back with his face in the pillow. Dean puts a hand over his mouth and traces his lips, his eyes dragging over Sam’s body.

Just describing the basic mechanics of this scene makes its eroticism clear. Dean touches his lips after Sam looks at them in a gesture loaded with restraint and tension. It’s another of those scenes that usually happen between romantic leads: the woman gets drunk and confesses something and/or needs to be taken care of and the man treats her respectfully but not so respectfully that he isn’t a little seduced. Dean could have let Sam kiss him (or do whatever he was going to do), but he has so many reasons not to: fear of hurting him, of Sam leaving him, of betraying his role as his savior and protector. Dean’s self worth comes from loving Sam, so if he loves Sam Wrong he feels worthless.

And that’s to say nothing of the fact that Sam is begging Dean to take ultimate control over his body by deciding whether he lives, and deciding whether he’s good or bad. His fears are soothed by the idea that whatever happens he can be Dean’s, he can belong to his brother. He’s okay with dying only if it’s by Dean’s hand. His whole life he’s felt something was wrong with him, so if it’s true and Dean confirms it, he is the only one who can kill it. The corruption in Sam (in both of them) has already been heavily linked to blood and their relationship and now Sam is verbalizing it—No! We’re just brothers. Why does everyone assume we’re gay? Sam holding Dean’s face, drunk, saying there is something wrong with me and it’s your responsibility. Please, you’re the only one who can do it.

-Sam is throwing up the next morning. Dean says something gross about a sandwich in an ashtray that makes Sam gag and say “I hate you” and Dean says “I know you do.” The way Dean says this sounds like he really thinks Sam hates him, which came up in Asylum as well. After last night, this has to have something to do with Sam’s feelings for him and the fact that Sam thinks Dean is the only one who should kill him. He thinks it’s tied to Sam hating him and his self-hatred for loving Sam wrong.

-Maggie tells Tyler “I can’t leave this haunted house and you can’t leave me.” Sam and Dean can’t leave the haunted house that is their life because they can’t leave each other.

-Maggie tells Rose “you’d do that for me?” which Sam has basically said to Dean, and “you kept me away for so long I thought you didn’t love me any more” which fits both of them at different times. Rose is the little sister choosing to die so that Maggie doesn’t have to spend eternity alone, and saving Tyler. It’s a creepy, haunting ending that parallels Sam and Dean. The sisters play together forever in a haunted house and the brothers drive off to hunt together out of the haunted houses and motels and backroads they were raised in.

#wincest #samdean #supernatural #spn meta #sam and dean #spn 2x11 #playthings

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