#at least he's used to getting thrown against walls for when they have rough make out sessions
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"And that's how I met your dad"
#their children are totally not traumatized#stranger things#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#and thats how i met your dad#its getting hot in here#bisexual awakening#bi steve harrington#gay eddie munson#at least he's used to getting thrown against walls for when they have rough make out sessions
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summary :: Alastor during a rut
warning :: nsfw
note :: requests are still open
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Alastor isn’t a sexual person by any means.
Don’t get me wrong, he fooled around once or twice in life but in hell there was never a looming pressure to get married or have children.
Despite his aloof attitude towards sex and general romance there is a certain time when his more animalistic side controls him.
These periods happen to be ruts.
Every sinner has to deal with unsavoury things because of their hellish form, Alastor’s is just a unbridled need to have sex.
Of course Alastor tries to survive the ruts in confinement (usually in his radio tower or bedroom), making it clear to everyone that they’d best stay away if they value their lives.
Though there comes a point where dealing with the issue himself doesn’t do the trick.
So he decides to leave his tower in search of a mate.
And you happen to be the perfect find.
On sweeter terms you would’ve been honoured and perhaps even flustered but Alastor’s inky tentacles ripping you from your own room and dragging you into his own was rather alarming to say the least.
His room was hot and dense, Alastor himself loomed like a predator, his horns large and winding whilst his teeth glistened with drool.
It was a sight to behold and you were unsure if you should’ve been horny or terrified.
He’s quick to get in your personal space, scenting you immediately.
He asks to strike up a deal;
“How about a deal?” Alastor croons, sliding his hands down your back as he mumbles in your ear.
You clear your throat and try to mentally solve his mixed signals. “What for?”
“I’ll do you a favour, anything you want at any given moment. In return, you offer me your… company.”
You take it of course, to have a favour from Alastor was a great deal and you’d be helping him through his rut. Everyone wins.
Despite Alastor’s strong belief in acting as a gentleman most of his manners are thrown away once you shake hands.
He’s immediately buried himself into your body, inhaling your smell and pressing himself into you.
First, he takes you against the wall, being far too eager to move to his bed.
His talons graze your skin, pulling you into him with a desperate tightness.
One would’ve imagined sex with Alastor as sweeter and gentle, but whilst in a rut he’s got unbelievable stamina that he uses to split you.
Biting biting biting. Alastor can’t help but taste you. It’s a cannibalistic tendency, but he never takes a chunk out of you. Do expect him to draw blood though.
When in a rut he prefers to take you from behind. Mostly he likes to trap you between him and something else like a wall.
During the end of his rut when things have cooled, he’ll take it smoother and actually make love to you.
Though, when he’s in the heat of it it’s nothing but quickies and rough sex.
Alastor goes for multiple rounds, usually three before you tap out or someone interrupts. Generally he could go longer.
Alastor will not cum anywhere but inside you. He’s mentioned in passing that the feeling of cumming inside helps settle him more.
No one in the hotel knows of your affair, well, apart from Angel who could practically smell the daily quickies on you, see it in your flushed face and frizzed hair. Husk was a close second who’s seen Alastor in a isolated rut before. Angel then spread it to everyone else.
Nifty knew too, being the little creep she is, she mentioned to you her habit of listening in.
Despite most having heard you yelp his name at night, Alastor just pretends nothing ever happened and nobody dares mention it to him.
Although you do cop a lot of teasing from Angel.
Once things settle down and Alastor gets the frustrations out of his system, everything goes back to normal. Your bite marks heal and everyone settles.
That is, until his next rut.
#alastor x y/n#alastor x reader#alastor x you#hazbin alastor#hazbin hotel alastor#hazbin hotel x reader
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Hey vegas baby, so lil request if you don’t mind, imagine riding Sukuna and he is slapping your face urging you to go faster, and you slapping him back and laughing in his face 🤭 like he is in shock because how dare you, but in the same time he is like “ok girl, I’m intrigued” 🤨
Love you and your works 🤎
❤︎ ໋𓈒 sukuna getting turned on at you being a brat
warnings. fem! reader, cowgirl, praise, degradation, impact play, unprotected, choking, overstim. an. thank u luv u2!!!!
sukuna would be laid back with the most smuggest expression on his face — he noticed how you’d always halt your hips a little, slowing down the moment you were getting close.
he tsks, bringing a big hand to grip your chin before giving you a few smacks. “awwww,” he’d coo, feeling your hips try to keep up its repetitive jerking. he was just teasing you, giving you another light tap on your cheek before your bottom lip quavered. you felt yourself reaching close, your legs felt like complete mush before you whimpered. “don’t tell me the big girl’s tapping out already. what happened to ridin’ me until my eyes rolls back?” and sukuna sneers once he sees your cute glare. “i was rooting for you, princess.”
“s-shut up, ‘kuna.” you’d gnaw on your bottom lip, and he stares at you with a smirk. knowing him, he’d probably reply with the obvious, ‘make me’ to which he did. as you made him lean back just a bit more, your hand ends up lightly going against his face.
sukuna’s stunned for a moment before he jibes. he brings both big hands towards the edges of your waist, pressing his thumbs into them before snarling lowly.
“hm. did you just slap me?” and whilst he said that, you felt yourself pulse — not a heartbeat but a familiar pulse that was located between your legs. not waiting for an answer, he snickers, grabbing your chin once more before he spats, “oh. don’t look away from me now. do it again. ‘n just a heads up, if you’re gonna smack me at least do it harder, little girl.”
“i’m not gonna do it again because you’re gonna e-enjoy it.” you moaned, feeling him use his hands to make your hips rock against him again. it felt so good . . the stimulation, whilst you grind against him, your knees felt weak. each buckle, you heard an echoe through your ears ring the more and more you felt yourself getting close.
“yeah ‘m gonna e-enjoy it,” he mocks your little weak stutter, dragging a thumb towards your upper lip. he snickers, pulling you into a quick kiss before humming. “c’monnn, no eye contact either? such a shy baby.”
you continue to glare at him. making a cute attempt at moving your hips again — but he reached so deep inside your walls, that spot.
you let off a soft whine, feeling the curve of his dick stretch against your sweet cunt that never stopped gripping down on him. it was exceedingly sloppy, your arms that were thrown over his neck started to feel warm.
“f-fuckkk,” you’d bite your tongue, and sukuna just guffaws once more. he finds your behavior adorable and somewhat amusing.
he considers it cute on how you desperately tried to bite back your own moans, you throbbed at the continuous stares he gave you. such playful stares, he was waiting for it.
it was the way your legs were just about to give out — you felt an entire bundle of nerves brew up. up and up and up, you didn’t know how much longer you could have lasted.
“oh, boo. don’t make me fall asleep,” sukuna raises a brow, releasing an overly dramatic faux yawn. he was so cocky, purposely being in manspread for you. he parts his legs just a bit more and you moan. the heftiness of his cock pressing into you, it was enough to make your mouth salivate. “thought i trained my girl to not get so s—”
sukuna gets cut off once he feels your hips start to quicken and he chuckles, maintaining the same rough grip on your waist.
“mhm,” he huffs out, feeling gradually hasten. yet sukuna barely bats an eye, although . . that’s when you bring a hand to wrap around his neck. “choking me now? that’s k-kinda kinky.”
you watch as sukuna’s breathing hitch, and a sly smile spreads across his lips. he likes the feeling of your slender fingers wrapping around his throat. you give it a slight squeeze, and for a brief moment you watch his pearly fangs poke out. if he wasn’t amused, he was surely amused now.
sukuna doesn’t expect you to start laughing in his face now. he’s a bit caught off guard — the both of you were reaching such euphoric peaks at an unsteady pace, he intakes a single sharp breath before you murmur. “now look at you, ‘kuna. growing flustered ‘n all.”
“don’t … get too much of a swell head, brat,” he scoffs, and he was for sure flustered. a cute tinted pink color rises towards his face, and you felt his dick sporadically twitch inside of you. sukuna was definitely embarrassed. for once, he barely had a witty comeback, and he grips the fat of your ass before giving it a rough spank. “shut up ‘n finish.”
“don’t tell me what to do with a cute expression like that,” you giggle, the grip of your thumbs lingering a bit harder against his neck. sukuna snarls. you could tell you were irking his nerves, and he always let you. it pissed him off to say the least, sukuna casually gives you an eye roll and you smile. “you’re being the brat more than me.”
“watch how you speak to me girl,” he grumbles, and a small pout curls against his lips — it was cute, the curse trying to keep up his mean tough facade yet was melting right underneath you.
he loathed how much he enjoyed feeling your hands, the softness of your bare hands against his skin.
feeling you steadily jerk back and forth against him, a toe-curling orgasm right at the tip of your tongue, you moaned. sukuna buried his fingers into your skin, his right thigh idly bouncing underneath you. “mhm. try giving me dirty talk.”
“dirty talk?” you tease, softly stroking your thumb against the middle part of his neck. “you’re into that too, ‘kuna?”
“shut up woman,” he scoffs with puffed cheeks. he regrets even asking — yet you hum, leaning up close to him before giving him what you wanted. you imitated him earlier, smacking his temple gingerly yet with just enough roughness.
the last thing you expect was for a low needy moan to depart from his lips. “you gonna make a mess for me, sukuna?”
“f—fucking woman,” he grunts, and you can tell he’s starting to lose composure. the softness in your voice, the playfulness that ran underneath it. he’s stirring up your insides without a doubt, making your knees buckle and lock. as you straddle him, he could barely keep his hands gripped onto your waist. roughly attached like velcro.
sukuna’s breath, it became unsteady. this time you’re the one squeezing his chin, giggling at the way he tries to give you an irritated glare. “just make me cum.”
“okay baby.”
“call me that again ‘n see what happens.”
“aw baby, don’t be so stubborn.”
his eyes flicker towards you, and you were keen on getting on him annoyed. the grip your soaked pussy had on sukuna had him grow mute for a moment. just the mere squelches that loudly ricocheted from between your legs. the sweetened slick that ran against your slit, it had him locked. for a moment he’s seeing nothing but pure angelic stars. sukuna’s practically speechless, and he finds his rough hands tightly holding onto the mounds of your ass.
“f-fuck,” he huffs out, and his voice grows a tad bit lower. the baritone in it makes you pulsate. shockwaves started to coarse through his veins. it was a multitude of synonyms — heavily intense.
it makes his jaw tense and tighten, he bites down on his lip the moment he feels his balls nearly prepare to dunk inside of you. he was so thick, you had to angle yourself a certain way so he could hit each and every orifice of your gummy walls. every corner, every direct hit to make you moan tight against his ear. every crevice.
“c-cumming,” he throatily groans, his climax hitting him like a truck — the both of you ended up finishing at the same exact time, and sukuna’s eyes eventually do end up rolling back. he literally ate his words. he was on a plateau, a constant high. he swallows thickly, and you make your hips come to a halt once he starts to pour a hefty load into your cunt.
it was so much that it spilled out. all out of your folds, it was a mess. you wriggled your hips teasingly, getting over your orgasm yourself before running a finger down his chest. “tapping out on me, sukuna?”
“tch,” he growled, feeling that same hot flush rise towards his cheeks. he couldn’t deny though, he may have found himself a few favorite kinks. sukuna’s hooded eyes glare at you before his and flex and tense. “whatever, little girl. you—you win, this time.”
#★vegasbaby.#sukuna x reader#sukuna smut#ryomen sukuna x reader#sukuna x you#jjk smut#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujustsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jjk x reader smut#anime smut#female reader
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Ravishing
mondern!Eddie Munson x fem reader
Word Count: 1.5k
Your boyfriend catches you making lunch but food isn't what he wants to devour.
Warning: 18 +. p in v, unprotected sex, kinda dom eddie, slight piss kink (its 4 v small paragraphs, some dialogue, and highlighted in red for those who want to skip).
Thank you to my beta readers <3 and Mariah for helping with the header.
Masterlist
The late morning sun cast a warm bright haze around the open-concept kitchen and living room. The blinds had been pulled back to let the natural light illuminate what you were doing.
You shuffled around the kitchen quietly, gathering all the things needed to make a bowl of ramen. In contrast to the warm light, the air was cool. The breeze from the vent just beside the oven had goosebumps appearing over your legs, given you were only dressed in a simple white thong and your boyfriend's rather worn Iron Maiden t-shirt.
He was still sound asleep, laid out like a starfish, soft snores coming from his parted lips. It had taken everything in you to leave the comfort of the warm bed and his embrace but once your stomach began to growl, you forced yourself to pry your sore body from the bed.
The night before had been eventful, to say the least. Your boyfriend had ravished you. Worshiped your body in the way that only he could. His tongue, fingers, and his cock were dedicated to your pleasure, leaving you a weak, worn-out mess atop the mattress. You went round after round, not stopping until well after the sun started to rise.
As you reminisced on all the ways he had made you cum, you hadn't noticed the sounds of footsteps heavy with sleep nearing you.
Arms wrapped around your middle as you placed the pot of water on the eye. You leaned into the embrace, humming contently.
"Good morning." You smile.
"Morning." He mumbles into your neck. "I'm starving."
"I'll be done with food in a bit." You reply, tearing open the seasoning packet.
He groans into your skin, fingers lifting the hem of your shirt up and over your breasts. "Not what I'm hungry for." He all but purs. His hands move to push your panties down and then grab your hips, rutting his cock against your ass. You hadn’t noticed he was completely bare.
"Eddie-" you gasp as his fully hard cock pushes into your entrance. Your body shivers at the sensation, still sensitive from your last tussle only a few hours ago.
You hang your head low as he begins to rut into you, moving his hips at a pace you think should be all too fast for someone who has just woken up.
Pouring the contents of the seasoning packet into the water, you took the trash to the counter before bracing yourself against it. "Oh fuck. Feels so- ah! Feels so good." You groan.
Eddie grunts as he leaves wet, sloppy kisses along your shoulders and up the column of your neck. His teeth nip and bite at the delicate skin, marking you, claiming you as his own.
He jackhammers into you, the roughness forcing your legs to widen and your knees to weaken. Strong hands keep you from falling.
You're moved away from the oven, your front pushed over the butcher block counters. The wood is cold and you let out a squeal when your aching nipples make contact.
The strong thrusts have your body rocking against the countertop. Your hands are thrown out in front of you, pushing against the wall to keep you from being fucked into it.
You can barely get a noise out with the way Eddie is relentlessly using your sopping cunt.
"Taking me so well, Princess. Pussy made just for me, hum?"
You nod enthusiastically. "S'just for you," your words slur. "Oh-! Oh, Eddie!" Your lungs gain a burst of air as the tip of Eddie’s cock slides past the spot inside you that he always, so masterfully, finds.
He hikes one of your legs up, opening you further to him. The new angle pushes his length further into you. He's directly hitting that spot now, over and over and over again. It has you lost for words, a bundle of whimpers and nerves so tight you think you might explode.
It's all building up and you can do nothing to stop it but moan out against the wooden counter.
"Eddie- Eddie please I can't. Fuck-" your voice wobbles. "I think I'm gonna‐"
He buries himself deeper. "Gonna cum pretty girl?"
You shake your head. No, this is different, more urgent.
Your breathing is heavy as you reply. "No. Ah- I think, fuck, I think I'm gonna pee. You have to stop, Eddie, you have to."
He did not stop. The thrusts only kept coming, stroke after stroke he hit that special place but that was not the only place you felt the length of his cock. Your bladder stung with the fast and pressing need to relieve itself. The thought of letting go right here in the kitchen had you flushing, your body hot, and your face as red as could be.
"Hold it," Eddie commanded.
Your legs shook with the pleasure and pain
"I can't"
"Yes, you can. Hold it, sweetheart."
"Can't-" you heave. It was taking everything in you to do as he said, to hold it back. "Can't -", You let out a defeated whimper as you felt warmth begin to trickle down your leg.
It didn't take more than a second for that trickle to turn into a gush. You felt dirty as the piss pooled below you. Your body flushed with embarrassment, tears welled in your eyes.
Eddie tutted behind you, "Aww, was it too much for you?" The condescending tone of his voice made the heat in your body explode.
You answered him with a weak mewl, "Uh-huh."
"What was that? I couldn't hear you, baby. Did I make you dumb?"
All the while, his hips never stopped pistoning into you. Sloppy wet sounds were a constant ambiance in the room.
Now, a more familiar tug begins inside of you, one you knew all too well. A tugging that Eddie had learned, over years, when and how to pull to bring you the most pleasure. He expertly knew how to yank on that string in your abdomen until you fell over the edge.
Your cunt squeezed him, contracting around his stiff cock like a vice. He chucked before leaning down and licking a thick, wet stripe up the plane of your back, causing a shiver to rake through you.
"I can feel how close you are. So warm and wet, gonna fill you with my fuckin cum." He whispers in your ear.
"Please."
His lips pull into a smirk against your skin. "You'd like that, wouldn’t you? Want all the cum I can give you, huh? Wanna be a pretty little cum baby for me?"
"Yes, yes Eddie, yes." Your eyes are almost rolling into the back of your head as your release inches closer and closer.
"Say it. Say what you want." The command is rough, a drastic change from the patronizing softness he had before.
With your body shaking, nerves prickling as you try and stave off your fall, you let out a shriek. "Wanna cum! Please-oh fuck- let me cum!" Your hand's fist so tight, your knuckles turn white.
You barely hear Eddie give you permission before you're coming undone around him.
You swear there was a bright flash of light before your closed eyes as you shook. Was it heaven? Was it God? You had no idea but you swear with everything in you that this was the most intense orgasm you've ever had.
Eddie's brutal pace finally dissipates into longer, more slow, and steady strokes as he comes down from his own high.
"Fuck." The groan he lets out rumbles his chest, you can feel the vibrations on your back.
You just want to lean there forever. Have Eddie pressed up against you in the warm light of the day, not a worry in the world. Exhausted, your eyes begin to close and your bones become liquid. It's relaxing, resting in the aftermath of something so big. That is until you hear an all too familiar sizzle of water boiling over and hitting the hot eye of the stove.
Your heart beats faster for a whole other reason now as you push Eddie off you and turn to take the pot of water off the stove, thankful there wasn't anything that could have burnt or overcooked inside.
"I love you," Eddie voices. "I fuckin love you."
Turning on your heel, you look at him. His sharp edges seem soft and you can't help but smile.
"Love you more." You challenge.
He steps forward, taking you in his arms and placing a sloppy kiss on your lips, leaving you with a big smack. "Love you most." Another kiss. And another. And another, until you're giggling so much you have to shove him gently away from you.
"Let's get this mess cleaned up and maybe we can make something to eat." You pause, Eddie opens his mouth to speak but you interrupt him before he can, pointing a finger at him. "And don't say it's not what you're hungry for, I'm not having sex with you again until you have an actual meal."
He lifts his hands in defense. "Hey, not my fault you always look so... ravishing."
"Uh-huh, alright smooth talker. Let's get cleaned up."
#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson smut#joseph quinn#joseph quinn x reader#joseph quinn smut#stranger things x reader#stranger things smut#stranger things fic#female reader
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might i add damsel in distress with reader never having seen arthur angry before and certainly never seeing him beat the shit out of anyone but witnessing it for the first time when he saves her 🤭
You slide down the back wall of the saloon, wild eyed and terrified at the scene unfolding before you. The neckline of your blouse had been torn, buttons askew and your curve of your breast barely hidden by your chemise. The curls you had pinned your hair up into fell limply and messily over your shoulders.
You could tell a bruise was going to form where he had hit you across the face when you tried to push him away. You barely got a scream out before he slammed you back against the wooden wall, one arm pinned across your collarbones and the other one moving to hike up your skirts - evidently this man hadn’t taken kindly to your flattery trying to empty his pockets. The arm against your collarbone moved south and the tearing of your pretty blouse echoed in the night, while the man’s dirty, rough hand brushed against the inside of your knee.
You readied your lungs to scream again - but before you can, your attacker was ripped from you and handily thrown across the alley between the two buildings.
As you catch your breath, you clutch at your torn shirt as you take in the scene in front of you. Indeed, your mark was thrown into the dirt by a hulking, shadowy figure that it only takes you a moment to recognize the black gambler's hat and worn leather jacket. It's Arthur, who had come along with the group into town.
Arthur strides with heavy, measured steps over to the crumbled body of the man, reaching down with one hand to grab his collar. He hoists the man partway up, his shoulders lifted off the ground, and slams his other fist across his face. You gasp at the noise the man makes, but Arthur pays no mind.
The outlaw brings his fist across the man’s face again. And again. And again. Blood bursts from his mouth and his nose cracks out of alignment. A tooth falls out of the man’s mouth as he loses consciousness.
You huddle against the wall as you watch Arthur beat this man, blood staining his knunckles as he continually slams his fist into the man’s face. You knew, obviously, that this line of work likely required this kind of skillset from Arthur, but it was a different thing entirely to see it in action. Terrifying actually.
After so many blows you’ve lost count, and are unsure if the man is dead or not, Arthur drops him to the ground, a bloody pulp, as he wipes his knuckles against his pants and turns toward you, completely nonchalant.
Arthur holds his hand out in front of him, offering it to you. You take his hand and allow him to pull you up, stumbling slightly as you try to hold your blouse up to salvage at least a bit of your dignity. Arthur immediately pulls his jacket off and lays it upon your shoulders, winding an arm around you to help you walk toward his horse. You curl into his body, large and warm and strong.
He’s gotten you up to his horse, lifting you as if you were nothing.
“Y’alright?”
You nod, still thunderstruck about what you witnessed before. His hands linger on your hips, one of his thumbs rubbing a comforting circle. How is this man the same brute that beat that other one bloody?
“Sorry you had to see that, I know you ain’t used to seeing it.”
“It- it's okay.” You mumble, pulling his jacket around you tighter, your gaze wrenched away from his, falling upon a bloody spot on the collar of his blue shirt. Your hand unconsciously moves to wipe at it, but his hand catches yours midair.
Your eyes slowly make their way back to his. Arthur’s large, rough hand places yours gently upon your thigh.
"Ain't no need for you to be gettin' any blood on you on my account."
"But it's alright for you to get bloody for me?"
He tilts his head down, his eyes hidden by that hat, and he taps your hip before letting you go. You immediately miss the warmth of his hands on you.
"Always, darlin’. ”
#arthur morgan#red dead redemption 2#rdr2#red dead redemption#red dead fanfic#twolafic#arthur morgan x female reader#rdr2 fanfic#twola1k
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impetuous
premise: the little games you and joel like to play become risky when you almost get caught.
pairing: joel miller x smuggler!reader
word count: 1.4k
warnings: eighteen+ content, unprotected piv, established enemies with benefits, dirty talk, a certain clothing item being used as a gag, small mention of masturbation and bjs, hints of angst.
note: episode eight changed me as a person, the integration scene rewired my brain chemistry and i just needed to get this out before i collapsed from being in heat. the gif was made by me so don't steal pretty please.
part of this world but you don't have to read it to enjoy this!
“Shh, shh,” Joel silences you, just as a hard thrust of his cock has your mouth falling open, a moan filling the air of the damp shed. The crunch of sticks and gravel outside makes your already thumping heart beat faster against your rib cage.
Brows drawn together, the hands gripping onto Joel’s flannel digging into his sides. The thumb that was just pressed to the column of your throat—dirty palm squeezing your airway just enough to lower your moans, enough to make you wetter and less coherent—now moves down to where you’re bare and his cock is fucking into you. The rough pad of his thumb moving along your clit, “focus right here.”
Ignore the noises outside.
Ignore the possibility of getting caught by someone out after dark and up to no good.
Ignore the possibility of getting thrown in a cell by FEDRA because you two were out after dark and up to no good.
“Fuc-Joel,” you whine. Clench your eyes shut until all you can see is little white dots behind them. Try to focus on those, on the burn you feel from the tears that are now prickling at your lash line from how hard you’re trying to focus.
From how hard you’re trying to keep your mouth shut, to not getting caught—at least not before you’ve come.
Joel’s words “focus right here” mocking and blaring in your head like a song you can’t stop humming, a song stuck in your head, a song you want to bodily remove from your brain stem; your focus on the footsteps outside no longer the issue; your attentions shifting to the head of his cock, hitting every spot inside of you that makes your legs tighten around his hips more, on the burning pleasure he’s delivering to your clit right now.
You couldn’t focus on anything but him if you tried, and you’re trying really hard to focus that attention on staying quiet.
Which the two of you know is not your forte, in and out of this situation.
The countless times when Joel’s not fucking you come to the forefront of your mind of him complaining about your need to argue, to talk talk talk, instead of the two of you doing a trade, or making the other come.
“Anyone ever told you you talk too much?”
"Well, one of us has to do the talking, Mr. Resting Grump Face. Besides, you’d be bored if I didn’t make you work for what you came for.”
“That what you call it? Workin’ for it? You mean until I give you what you want because you can’t seem to ask for it unless you’re deliverin’ me bad news,” he had smirked. Wiped the grin from your face and covered it with his mouth seconds later as he backed you into the wall, groin grinding against your front. “I got better uses for that mouth.”
The scrape of the metal table your ass is on moves each time Joel thrusts, each time his cock drags against your sensitive walls over and over. If it weren’t for his jeans still covering half of him, the sounds of your skin moving against each other—and your wetness that was more than likely staining the front of his jeans, the small window in the back doing little to help light anything but his face and neck—would cover up the mewls and cries making your throat hoarse and raw each time they slip out when you fight to swallow them down.
“The only way you know how to be quiet is with my cock in your mouth.” There’s humor in his tone; his heavy breaths add more heat to your face. You feel his free hand run along your leg, moving it from his hip for half a second as he pulls your underwear from your calf and over your ankle until it’s in his palm and he’s pushing the material into your mouth.
You can taste the remnants of your arousal on the cotton, from even before the two of you started your little game. When it was still just a simple trade of stolen items and things your boss was too cowardly to hand off to the big bad grump. When he had just been scowling at you, listening to your bullshit story, and bidding the time until one of you cracked. Before both of you threw the items to the side and Joel’s hands were bending you over the nearest surface or pushing you to your knees.
You swallow around the material, your whimpers caught by the fabric and barely audible. His lips press against the material, barely touching your lips; the sweat on his forehead mingles with your own as he presses it against yours. “Focus on comin’ for me, take what you came for. C’mon. Come with me,” he grunts. Moves his hips in a way that has your eyes rolling back and your teeth biting the salvia-soaked cotton.
The hand not rubbing fast circles on your clit, cups the back of your skull. His dirty fingers wrapped in your hair, keeping you in place. Keeping you bent at the perfect angle so your hips can meet his. So his thumb has access to that nerve that’s making your toes curl—to push his cock further and further into you so the tip hits something pleasurably painful.
When you’re coming, when his name is muffled against your underwear and your nails are clinging and digging into his skin from the searing heat that has your body convulsing against him—"That's it, that's it, take it” murmured against your forehead—you feel him finish seconds later. Your walls clenching and spasming around his cock. A deep grunt breathed against your skin.
Your insides feel warm, like jell-o left out in the sun. Like if Joel never moved from between your legs and the two of you stayed connected forever, you wouldn’t mind.
And after he’s pulled out and his warmth is gone from your body, you quickly shoot down the disappointment rising up inside of you that he didn’t stay between your legs longer. That this part of the night is over, and now you’re back to the game.
To the reason you snuck out after dark to begin with.
Completely denying yourself any opposing thought that could put that reason into question. The two of you have been doing this for too long for your mind to think it’s something it isn’t.
Even when he doesn’t just take what he came for and leave or shoot you a scowl when he helps you find your pants, the way you expect him to.
Or how he doesn’t let you go first no matter how much arguing you do against it—how he makes sure the coast is clear before signaling it’s safe. Him hanging behind to—cover his ass, you’re sure—make sure when you slip down the dark alleyway, no one is there to catch you sneaking away into the night.
And later, when you’re laying in bed, you’ll chalk up the pounding need you feel again as you remember Joel’s rough fingers against you—your jaw, your neck, digging into your sides, your shoulder to keep you from moving anywhere but against him, anywhere but where he wouldn’t be inside of you—and his words still playing in your head “focus right here, come with me”, your heart will pick up, and you’ll have no choice but to sedate the ache you feel by making yourself come. Joel’s name on your tongue and bit into your bottom lip; you’ll blame it on his stupid mouth and your lack of options for sexual partners in this hell hole.
It won’t be because of an attachment or attraction of any kind.
Fuck that.
And tomorrow, when you tell Robert to do his own fucking deliveries, it won’t be because of your feelings but instead because you almost got caught last night. This little game becoming more of a risk than entertainment for you, and you’ll be damned if you get in the mix with FEDRA over Joel and the underlying need the both of you have to pick each other apart and pull the hatred you harbor inside out with teeth, tongues, and fingers that make you see stars.
But Robert is spineless, and you’re not convincing enough to make yourself believe you want to end anything with Joel.
#joel miller x reader#joel miller one shot#joel miller smut#joel miller x you#joel miller x y/n#joel miller x female reader#pedro pascal smut#pedro pascal fics#joel miller fics#joel miller x smuggler!reader#the last of us fic#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller imagine
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Ziva x teen!reader - just soldiers
So teen reader has grown up in a rough family. It was basically run like a military; get up at the crack of dawn, do all these military base training even when they were like a child. Have a strict schedule to follow every day that they become a robot basically and any sense of being a normal teen thrown out the window. Teen reader is on a field trip with their class to NCIS for their history class talking about laws and every thing. They are in the bullpen where Ziva and the team is. Ziva takes notice to the teen reader and how they seem distant from all the other kids. Maybe something happens and it triggers teen reader to go into that military mindset (like a loud noise or arguing or whatever you want). Ziva knows a thing or two about the military mindset because of her dad and helps teen reader calm down and come back to reality. - @offspringoflordwinter 💜
TW: mentions of abusive and controlling parent
Standing in the middle of the floor with the rest of your class, you had your hands clasped behind your back as you just observed everybody else.
You had no real interest in this trip, you had no interest in becoming an NCIS agent, but your father said he would be busy today, and decided this trip would be a good way to keep you occupied.
“Are you interested in forensics?” A woman asked.
You glanced up at her but said nothing.
“I’m agent Ziva David, what’s your name?”
You turned away, going back to what you were doing.
One of the other students looked over, snickering a little bit.
“They won’t tell you anything, (Y/N)s weird. Never talks. A freak.”
Ziva looked back at you, then she walked back over to her boss who was also stood there watching you.
“Anything?”
“No, another student mentioned their name is (Y/N), but that’s it.”
Gibbs slowly nodded his head.
“I spoke to the teacher, she said she didn’t know much about (Y/N), calm student, occasionally had issues with being suspended for fighting.”
“Gibbs I recognise that look.”
“I know you do…”
You grew disinterested in standing there, and you made your way back into hallway, standing by the wall.
You ran over your daily routine in your head, checking to make sure you knew what you had to do.
Everybody made their way back up to the bullpen, and you stood to the back of your class.
Pulling up the sleeve to your shirt, you have a look at the time, and walked over to your teacher.
“Ma’am, I need to have my lunch now.”
“Yes, of course. Do you mind eating up here?”
“No ma’am.”
She nodded, and you sat down against one of the desks, opening up your lunch box so you could eat.
You have ten minutes to eat your lunch, then you had to do your afternoon work out, then finish your homework just after.
Usually you would then have afternoon classes, but since you were here that went out the window meaning that you had a few free hours.
After finishing your lunch, you stood up, walking back over to your teacher.
“Ma’am, I need to do my training.”
“Oh, is there any way you can skip it for today? I know you use the gym but we don’t have that here.”
“No ma’am. I have to follow my schedule.”
She sighed heavily, gesturing for you to follow her and you did.
She spoke to Gibbs, who was looking at you the whole time.
“We have an empty interrogation room you can use, we can’t give you entrance to the gym.”
“That’s fine sir, I can work around that.”
He nodded.
“Ziva will take you.”
“Thank you.”
You followed behind Ziva, and you rolled your sleeves up, getting ready to start your work out.
“How many push ups can you do?”
“A good solider must be able to do at least 50 push in a row. If you cannot then you are weak. Father does not tolerate weakness.”
Ziva nodded her head, leaning back against the wall.
“What does your father consider weakness?”
“Being sick is weak, crying is weak, being in pain is weak. A strong person must be able to go beyond their limits and not complain.”
Ziva listened to you carefully.
“Are you a solider?”
“Yes ma’am.”
You finished your push ups, and started doing some sit ups.
“How long have you been a soldier for?”
“My whole life.”
She nodded again.
There was no sign of emotion in your voice, nothing on your face.
You were the perfect soldier, just like she was.
Designed to follow your orders without complaint, to not be able to think for yourself, no thought about being a teenager, partying, drinking, all the normal things teenagers do.
You stood up, and rolled your shoulders slightly, turning around to face Ziva with your hands clasped behind your back.
“Do you have any friends?”
“Soldiers have no need for friends, they are useless and only weigh down the missions.”
“What is your mission?”
“I have no assignment right now.”
“But you have had one?”
“No. I do not receive my first mission until my 18th year.”
You studied Ziva quietly for a moment, looking her up and down.
“You are like me.”
“Yes.”
You looked at your watch, rolling your sleeves back down, doing them back up and you straightened your shirt.
“Why did you abandon your mission?”
“Because there is more to life than being a soldier for somebody else.”
“This place has made you weak.”
“Is that what you think?”
You nodded your head, leaving through the open door.
You walked back to your class with Ziva walking alongside you.
She didn’t say anything else, and neither did you you just rejoined your class, standing to the side of them all.
You were just watching when a loud bang from nearby made you spin around, a few of your fellow students began laughing loudly.
But you had jumped into fight mode, so when one of them rushed to run past you, you grabbed his arm, throwing him to the ground as you pinned him.
“(Y/N) let him go!” Your teacher yelled.
You said nothing, pinning your fellow student further into the ground.
You felt a hand on your shoulder and you spun around, standing up you grabbed the man by the arm, spinning around with so much force your threw him to the ground as well.
“(Y/N), look at me that’s an order.”
You snapped your head to Ziva.
You seemed to recognise her as some sort of authority, and you stood up straight, clasping your hands behind your back.
But you were still on guard.
“You cannot attack your fellow students.”
“He is a threat.”
“He was just playing a joke on you.” Gibbs said.
There was another loud noise, and you dissociated from them all, spinning around you charged at the person responsible for it.
He was pulled away from you, and you stood there, fists in the air ready to attack anybody that came after you.
Ziva walked over, hands raised in the air.
“Hey, hey, it’s okay.”
You took a swing for her and she dodged it, moving to the side and you followed her.
Ziva was raised like you, she knew how to predict an attack and how to avoid it.
She grabbed your wrist, and you swung yourself back, sweeping your leg under hers to get yourself free and you crouched down, grabbing her shirt.
You raised tour fist and tried to punch her, but she caught it, eyes locked with hers.
“There is no threat to you here…” she whispered.
“Everybody is a threat.”
“No. No they’re not. You’re safe, either federal agents and teenagers whom I’m sure cannot even begin to match your level.”
She offered the smallest of smiles.
“There is no threat.”
She slowly sat up, placing a hand on your shoulder.
“You need to breathe. Focus. Breath.”
You went to pull you hand away.
“Don’t. I am older than you and I have had far more training.” She warned.
You nodded.
You were a soldier yes, but your father told you not to confront somebody who you knew you wouldn’t have a chance to attack.
Not yet anyway.
So you sat down, crossing your legs as you took a small breath.
“Focus on me, nobody else.”
Ziva let go of you, but she was ready to jump into action in case you went to attack somebody else.
You slowly breathed in and out, eyes locked with hers.
“Ignore everybody else, they’re not important.”
You nodded your head.
Ziva carried on leading you through the breathing you had to do in order to calm yourself down.
“Come with me.”
Ziva stood up, and you followed after her, letting her take you to a conference room where you were able to freely pace back and forth.
Ziva stood by the door so you couldn’t run away.
She realised that you were a danger, your solider mindset was going to put somebody in danger, you were going to seriously hurt somebody or worse.
You didn’t necessarily know that you were going to hurt somebody, but it was still a factor.
You wouldn’t care if you did either, you wouldn’t think twice about it if it meant protecting yourself.
At this rate Ziva was sure you were going to land yourself in prison before you even reached being an adult.
“I can help you.”
You paused pacing, turning your attention to her.
“I do not need help.”
“You do, because you shouldn’t have to live like this. You are not a soldier, you are a child.”
“I am a soldier, that is what I will always be.”
Ziva shook her head.
“No, you can be so much more.”
“No.”
She sighed.
“Unfortunately we cannot let you return home.”
“Okay.”
You sat down in a chair, placing your hands on the table.
You showed no objection, and that’s where your father had messed up.
You didn’t care if he was taken away from you, you had no attachment to him, or anybody else for that matter.
You would carry on.
Just like this.
Until it killed you.
Just like she used to.
And she wasn’t about to let that happen to you
#ncis#ncis x reader#ncis x you#ncis imagine#Ziva David#Ziva David x reader#Ziva David x you#Ziva David imagine
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Saving Part 2 BikerBucky Barnes x Reader
Warning: Age gap, abuse, violence, forced relationship, dub-con, sexual acts, other themes
Summery: The reader never knew the real Bucky Barnes until that night.
Bucky led you to a office in the back after having Your father thrown out of the bar, You were sat in a chair He was kneeling in front of you dabbing your split open lip with a wet cloth,
It was silent You could see some of the tattoos exposed on his hand that disappeared under his leather jacket. You yourself had one tattoo, A small dove Tattoo on your wrist,
“It doesn’t look too bad.” He says he sounded irritated, who can blame him your father hit you so hard your surprised he didn’t knock you into next week, But this is the first time he’s done it in public.
“Let me see if I can find some ice for your cheek.” He says standing up still you say nothing, what could you say? Oh hey I’m nineteen still living at home and my father beats the snot out of me just for the fun of it.
You hear the door open and see Bucky walk in with a bottle of beer,
“Sorry the Ice Machine is acting up, need to get that damn thing fixed.” He grumbles handing you the beer,
“It’s alright.” You say below a whisper
“By the way I’m James but everyone calls me Bucky.” He says you press the beer to your cheek,
“Y/N” You say
He’s leaning against a desk with his arms crossed,
“I know I seen you working at the strip club.” He says
You nod
“Does this sort of thing happen often?” He finally asks
You knew you couldn’t tell him the truth,
You shake your head no,
“He was just a little drunk.” You say
“Doll, Tony is just a little drunk, When you are that drunk that you hit a woman you are beyond drunk.” He says
“Yeah..” You sigh and stand up,
“Thank you for your help James but I better get him home before he causes more trouble.” You say handing him the beer bottle,
He chuckles, and walks behind you he towers over you, your head coming to his chest,
“When is your day off?” He asked before you could leave the room,
“Excuse me?” You asked,
“You heard me doll.” He says you turn fully around you are looking up at him in confusion,
He is smirking,
“Tuesday.” You say
“So tomorrow.” He says
You nod not realizing that was tomorrow,
“Then I’ll pick you up around seven.” He says
You look at him confused,
“Um thank you for the offer but..” You begin trying to make up an excuse
“It’s the least you can do, for making me patch you up.” He says tucking some of your hair behind your ear,
“Besides I’m not one to take no for an answer.” He says smiling down at you
You were speechless, You lick your lip but nod
“Good girl.” He says smiling down at you
He walks you out to your car, shoving you still drunk father in the car,telling him if he doesn’t get in the damn car he was going to kick his teeth down his throat, and since James was built bigger than you father, Your father gulped but listened and got in the car, You walk over to the drivers side, He opens the door for you,
“I’ll see you tomorrow doll.” He says kissing you on the cheek,
You nod getting in the car buckling up and starting the car, He shuts the door and you drive off back to your house,
Bucky smirked watching your car disappear in the distance as you drove away, Steve was now standing next to him, He couldn’t help the way he felt when you called him James, No one ever called him James, but when you did it brought something out in him,
A sense of relief and also turned him on majorly,
“She seems a bit shaken up.” Steve says bringing Bucky out of his thoughts,
“Probably from us roughing up her old man, She’ll get over it.” Bucky says as the two walk back into the bar,
“I still can’t believe he hit her, I thought he broke her cheek how small the girl is.” Steve says
Bucky chuckles
“She’s tougher than she looks.” Bucky says
As you park the car outside the house, your father slams the car door once the two of you were inside the house, he pinned you to the wall by your throat.
“You ever embarrass me like that again I will kill you!” He yells
“Your the one who was drunk.” You rasp out he lets go of your throat and back hands you that you fall to the ground, He starts kicking you in the ribs,
“Don’t you ever come looking for me again!” He yells as he continues to kick you You cover your face with your forearms, Making sure he doesn’t get you in the face again,
He grabs you by the hair yanking you to your feet making you look at him,
“Do we understand each other?” He sneers
“Yes.” You grit out
He lets go of you,
“Good now go make dinner.” He says storming off,
You let out long shallow breaths from the incident trying to calm your nerves, You knew he was going to react this way but you had to get him because you were worried he would drive home drunk killing someone on the way.
You sigh holding your side as you made your way to the kitchen to make dinner even though it’s past three in the morning, his schedule is so screwed up from drinking himself stupid at all hours, You wonder how he’s not dead from liver damage,
You sigh placing your hands on the counter deciding to just make soup if he’s not satisfied or hasn’t passed out drunk yet he can make his own damn food.
You biggest worry was how you were going to hide your injuries from James now.
#bikerbucky barnes#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes smut#mcu smut#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes imagine#avengers fic#avengers family#innocent reader#abuse#the avengers#bucky x reader#bucky barnes x female reader#dominate bucky barnes
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König x FemReader...?
(I wanted to put that image of him sitting on top of that other guy with a knife on the side of his head, but I don't know if I'm allowed??Cause like the whole horse is there👀)
Warnings: Canon-typical violence, mentions of r*pe and t*rture (but not acted upon)
I put the translated words at the very end. I'm sorry if the German is rough, i was using Bing... arrest me.
⁘Enjoy!⁘
This is how you were going to die. At least it was dignified. You fought the whole time and, well you tried. That's how your teammates will see it hopefully.
Of course, when you're (average? sized female) going against a fucking beast of a man it didn't really seem fair. But this was war and those were the consequences. Death
You were pressed against the ground, trapped between the thighs of an absolute unit of a man. Your arms keeping his hand holding the hunting knife suspended in the air above your throat. You swallowed harshly once or twice, wishing you could have been given a quicker death. Staring at the eyes above you, you wanted to cry at this sight. He looked like the Boogeyman.
A sniper's hood shielded all his facial features except for his eyes. You wished he wore shades because his piercing blue eyes were petrifying.
"Hör auf zu kämpfen! Sie haben verloren!" His other hand grabs your wrist and holds it above your head. You bite your lip as his knife slowly started sinking into the tender spot between your collar bone and your neck. Tears filled your eyes and you let out a pained scream-
⩤Let's rewind to about five minutes ago.⩤
Gun fire alerts your senses, and you look at your watch. They arrived earlier than expected. You groan and wait for someone to radio you the signal to get out of the building. Making sure your gun was off safety, you checked your small surroundings. You were in an empty room on the third floor of an abandoned (but stable) building. You were the backup, watching the roof tops of the other buildings for incase enemy squads tried to take the surprise from above.
They did not.
You had been watching the grounds for the past 20 minutes. Word was that the men you were looking out for would be arriving at this town about 45 minutes before you arrived. Not on schedule but you knew your team would make do.
Your radio hisses against your shoulder and you're quick to press against the button. "Status?"
"-Must have gotten word, there's too many. We're retreating. Meet at-" A few gunshots and then heavy breathing on the coms. "-------osed areas! Chop----there in 10-" more gunshots, more static. You curse and hope to shit that they're okay. Getting up you began running down the stairs. You reach the second floor and pause. There's a smoke bomb hissing the last of its continents into the hallway and you press yourself against the wall. Pulling down your cloth mask to cover your head and face, you begin to walk with caution.
Your grip was tight over the gun in your hands. You stopped before reaching the wall of smoke. You really didn't want to go in.
As childish as it seemed, you knew that whatever was waiting for you in this smoke knew you were here. Or this could have been an accidental smoke bomb set off by your own team.
You doubted it.
You narrow your eyes and slowly make your way through. Light from the windows helped to navigate your way forward. A noise beside you however made you pause. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel like an eight year old creeping through a dark house. Utterly terrified. Raising your gun, you carefully looked around. You made a slow circle around you but saw nothing. The smoke didn’t help. You were sure you were in the clear until a large form grabs your gun and kicks you in the chest. You gasped for air as you stumbled backwards and fell right back out of the smoke.
You look up in time to watch the chamber of your gun being thrown in front of you, then the gun itself being thrown against the wall and falling into two pieces. Then like a scene from a chilling horror story, it emerges from the smoke.
A man you’ve yet to know, König.
As of right now, he is the stuff nightmares seem to be made of. Quite possibly the Boogeyman. He glares down at you through the eyeholes of his hood. You’re still on the ground but you were scrambling away.
“Wirst du rennen oder kämpfen?” He spoke while stepping closer. His right hand unsheathes a large hunter’s knife from his belt and he twirls it carefully.
This man was looking for a knife fight. You were looking to live another day. So you got up to your feet and began running back down the hallway. He disassembled your gun and all you had left on you was a swiss army knife and a small pocketknife. You were usually more prepared for this; your other two guns were left in the truck you arrived on. And you forgot them but didn’t tell your Lieutenant. You thought one gun and five clips of bullets were enough.
You’re a dumbass and you’re going to die.
The big man yelled something else in German behind you but you didn’t even look back. However, the rumbling crash of footsteps running did. He was gaining on you quickly. You curse to yourself and ready your puny pocketknife. It always felt like a good self-defense tool, but not paired against that. He eventually caught up to you as you reached the stairs and grabbed you by the back of your vest. You turn with all your strength and jab the pocketknife into his triceps twice. He yelped in pain and let go, trying to kick you again. You rolled out of his way and jab your knife deep into his thigh before turning and running upstairs.
“Du abscheuliches Geschöpf!” He yelled but of course you didn’t know what the hell he was saying. You made it to the third floor and ran to the first window. You swallowed harshly at the height of the building across from you. You just needed to jump. 1…2…3…You groan in frustration and grip the window ledge. You couldn’t. But you have to. The sound of a nearby explosion caught your attention and you looked up. A helicopter had been shot down, and it was heading for you. You step back and feel a body behind you. Looking up you see the man looking at the chopper coming down as well. You quickly tackle him down and feel both of you hit the stairs. He had enough sense to grab the railing so both of you didn’t tumble down the steps.
The helicopter crashes into the side of the building, a few bricks and metal parts fly past the both of you but there wasn’t any serious damage to the structure of the building. Dust had filled the clearing but you didn’t let the shock of what happened hold you there. A hand was gripping your shoulders, keeping you pressed against his chest. Only partially grateful, you were quick to weasel your way out of his hold. Running towards the new opening in the wall, you had a bigger opening to jump across. So you ran and lept-
Only to be caught by the back of the vest and slammed down back onto the floor of the building you were trying to escape. This was the second time the wind had been knocked out of you. This guy just didn’t quit! He was breathing heavily as well, stalking toward you. You narrowed your eyes at him and tried to crawl away like before. This time he was on you, straddling your chest and readying his knife. “Danke, dass du mich gerettet hast.” His words were breathy as he showed you the knife he held above your eyes. “Aber es ist an der Zeit, dieses Spiel zu beenden.” Then his hand came down, almost slicing your neck but your arm held his hand back.
You stare up at him, biting your lip so you don't make any noise. You were struggling, and were sure that he could have easily overpowered you. You thought adrenaline was on your side. You didn’t want to die.
However…
This is how you were going to die.
⩥And here we are, where we left off.��
"Hör auf zu kämpfen! Sie haben verloren!" His other hand grabs your wrist and holds it above your head. You bite your lip as his knife slowly started sinking into the tender spot between your collar bone and your neck. Tears filled your eyes and you let out a pained scream.
The knife pulled away from your skin and you gasped. Opening your eyes, you could see the man above you glare down at you. Was he waiting for something? He was hesitant now, it seemed. His knife reaches down and tugs the edge of your mask, pulling it up skillfully without cutting your face. You closed your eyes as the fabric peels away from your face. The fabric bunched on your forehead, and you opened your eyes.
The man was staring at your facial features, his knife trailing down the side of your tear-stained cheek. The blade of the knife stops at your lips and he makes a scoffing sound. He sat straight up while still looking at you. "Du bist nur eine junge frau?" It looked like he was smiling, and you felt your heart sink.
You know what could happen to women in war. Especially if they're taken as prisoners or interrogated. Rape was one of the lighter punishments. That's what you were told at one of the meetings about a month ago. They had listed and shown pictures of the many colorful torture experiments used on women. You and a few other soldiers in the room were told, that if you had to choose between getting captured or dying; choose the latter. Harsh words, but it came from a woman who looked pained to even say it.
You didn't know what sick activities he was imagining but you were going to have none of it.
You shook your head and grabbed his hand that held the knife. You pull it back to your throat and shakily speak. "Don't. Just kill me. Kill me!" The man above you had complete control over the knife as he watched you carefully. "You probably don't understand me, but you can understand this." You yanked the hand closer, but it never got close to your throat.
He tilted his head, then leaned down and pressed the knife to your throat again. You swallowed and closed your eyes, letting a few tears slip down the side of your face. This was it. Maybe he had enough mercy to spare you of whatever torture treatment awaited you.
A dark chuckle told you otherwise.
Your eyes slowly peer open and see the man putting his knife away. "No!" You spoke up but he was already hauling you up to your feet. You tried pulling away but his grip was like an anaconda coiled around its prey. "No no no! Not like this please!" He sighed at your wailing and grabbed your face between his thumb and two fingers. You stare up at him with wide pleading eyes.
He took his knife back out but flipped it upside down. He turns your head the other way and you felt the blunt end of the knife handle hit the back of your skull. You knocked out, falling against the larger man as he picked you up and held you over his shoulder. Without another word, he began retreating back downstairs.
⁘Translations⁘
Hör auf zu kämpfen! Sie haben verloren! - Stop fighting! You've lost!
Wirst du rennen oder kämpfen? - Are you going to run or fight?
Du abscheuliches Geschöpf! - You abominable creature!
Danke, dass du mich gerettet hast. Aber es ist an der Zeit, dieses Spiel zu beenden. - Thank you for saving me. But it's time to end this game.
Du bist nur eine junge frau? - You're just a young woman?
#cod mw2#cod#cod modern warfare#konig mw2#konig x you#konig x reader#fanfic#konig modern warfare#konig cod
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my secret santa gift for @greentealycheejelly, a malexa fic that examines an alternate start to season two that gives them more space to breathe before falling together, with examinations of a lot of the group dynamics and echo in the background! I hope you enjoy it and that the angst isn’t too heavy handed, but I listened to a lot of My Chemical Romance while writing and plotting and I’m sure that shows (in the title at the very least)!
The last few days had been rough, everyone’s emotions strung high from a grief larger than one man’s death and ready to be cracked wide open at any second. From the desperate grasps of one of Alex’s best friends to not get left behind again, to actually have her second chance at the family that had been ripped out of her grasp since she was old enough to hold something in her tiny fist. To the puffy eyes and dark circles of his ex-lover as he forwent sleep and food, spent hours huddled in a dark corner of a bar drinking himself numb or in his bunker hunched over his console angrily muttering under his breath.
Alex knew both of their fragile states- had witnessed them up close and personal. From Liz asking him to steal a corpse to Michael slurring his words as he helped him climb onto the wafer thin mattress in his airstream. Had shown up to install the grotto’s new security system to find Michael glaring at the shimmering console like it had killed Max itself, a beer bottle held tight in one hand and tear tracks glistening on his face. Alex hadn’t asked about the fresh tattoo his rolled up sleeves showcased or the book that had been thrown across the room, brand new by the looks of it, not even a crack in the spine.
Now that grief had drawn back. Leaving a deceptive calm over their group's unresolved emotions. Like the shoreline before a storm.
Both Liz and Michael seem bare and exposed in their exhausted states. The ever present crease on Michael’s brow is smoothed over, pure exhaustion in the slump of his shoulders as he sleeps in an armchair pulled up to the bed. Liz is standing at Max’s other side chewing on her bottom lip, the skin broken from her constant worrying, clipboard held in her hands. As if staring at the data will make their chances less slim, would make the muscle in Max’s chest stronger.
Both not three paces from where Alex had left them the night before.
“Long night?” Alex asks, his voice is still rough from disuse. He was tired himself, barely getting any sleep for the last few days, since he’d stood in the viewing room and watched Max flatline. Had seen Michael collapse against the wall and slide to the ground. Heard Liz’s broken sobs ringing through the high pitched scream of machinery.
For a moment Alex had tasted despair, felt completely powerless to save his loved ones again. A steady uptick to the list of people he couldn’t ever quite save.
He’d wanted to laugh, a dark cruel kind of sound, the kind he used to make around a mouthful of blood or when his ears were ringing so bad he thought he might never hear right again. But he had Maria, her soft warm hand had slipped into his and grounded him. Softened him. Kept his cool facade from breaking as he’d stared a nightmare in the face.
“Mikey just feel asleep,” Liz says, voice soft. Not defeated yet, but weak. Weary of joy it seemed.
Alex nods curtly, hand tightening around the coffee tray he had brought in. Three, just incase. “He needs it.”
Liz nods, concern flashing in her eyes as she gives Michael a glance. “After the days spent hunched over building Max a pacemaker-“ her face looks sour at that thought “-he has to be exhausted.”
read on ao3
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48 w magnus n another crew member? (Platonically)
48. Using your body to shield them from attack.
((101 ways to say I Love You With Actions prompts - send some in!!))
--
Magnus woke up to the heavy smell of aloe vera in the Starblaster's medbay, which is to say: Magnus woke up in the Starblaster's second greenhouse room that occasionally had medical supplies in it. They tried to keep it clean for the sake of, y'know, injuries, but it was never really enforced unless someone had to stay in there for a while. Merle had moved the potted plants that were once on the medical bed onto the desk that was jammed in the corner. There were several bloody bandages around, which did not feel Magnus with confidence. And he was under a quilt.
It was multicolor, with faded pink, orange, red, and yellow fabric, with a deep blue on the edge. It had been patched up several times, but most of the seams were barely visible. If it had been Magnus's quilt, he would have thrown it out long ago. It had clearly been through some rough times. But it wasn't his. It was Taako's.
Huh.
Okay. Okay, okay, okay. Last he remembered, he was rushing to fight a bear-demon thing during an expedition for the Light. Davenport had paired him and Taako together for the first time ever and the whole thing had been kinda awkward, to say the least.
The twins were still hesitant to be separated, which Magnus could get. But if he was being perfectly honest, he'd much rather be paired with Lup than with Taako. Taako was- he wasn't mean, per se, he was just… touchy. Lup tended to dull the blade that was Taako's outward personality, but without her there, Magnus didn't really know what Taako… did. How he existed or whatever. They had rarely ever been alone together, especially without Lup.
But Taako's back had been open to an attack from the bear demon, so Magnus had to step in. And then?
He, uhm, he didn't remember.
Magnus sat up. And then almost immediately regretted it as he was hit with a sudden wave of vertigo. He put his hand up on the wall, steadying himself. The quilt fell down to his lap and revealed a gnarly-looking scar that was already fading into a lighter color against his skin. Thank you, magic healing. And Merle, if he must. Still, he had to make sure Taako- make sure everyone was okay. He swung his legs over the side, taking a moment to breathe in deeply. His vision was slightly fuzzy.
As he sat back to readjust himself, the door to the medbay slid open.
It was Taako.
He looked- okay? Magnus had known Taako for a good five years now, but he had never quite seen Taako look so… the way he looked. He had his hair balled up in a messy bun atop his head and there were the beginnings of eyebags under his eyes. Don't get Magnus wrong- he still looked super cool. But he looked exhausted in a way Magnus had barely ever seen him be. Not to mention the state of his clothing- Blood, all the way down. Magnus sorely hoped it was his blood and not Taako's.
Taako obviously hadn't expected to see him sitting up, because he paused at the door.
"Uhm," Magnus said.
"'Sup," Taako said. He went to sit on the top of the desk, closing the door behind him as he did so. "You probably shouldn't be sitting up yet, homie."
"I was just, uhm- I was trying to- I mean, I wanted to see if you were okay."
"Peachy," Taako said, in a decidedly unpeachy tone of voice.
"Are you… sure?" Magnus said. "'Cause you sounded pretty unpeachy there-"
"Magnus," Taako said. "Lay the fuck down."
"Laying," Magnus said, laying back down. He stared up at the ceiling. Maybe one day the Hunger would smash through this room specifically and they could change the popcorn ceiling. When he glanced over at Taako, Taako was drumming his fingers along the desk, his lips in a thin line. His Thinking Face, as Magnus had privately dubbed it in cycle one.
"Okay," Taako said after a minute more. Magnus was glad he started talking because he had begun to get a little antsy. "So. Let me pitch you this situation: You're in the woods and you come across, I don't know, let's say a giant demon bear." Magnus was not liking where this was going. "And you're with your magic using bud. What would be a good step in this scenario to warn your pal and get you both out of danger?"
"Uhm," Magnus said again. "Tell… you?"
"Yeah, telling the person you're with would be a good fucking move, huh!" Taako said. "That'd be so smart! And yet, here we fucking are, Magnus- did you forget how to speak? Like, there's a thing in your throat that makes sounds! You could have been like, "aahhh, holy shit, watch out for the bear," and instead-"
"I didn't have time!"
"You absolutely had time!" Taako said. "But instead, I had to fight a fucking bear and get you back here! Can you not just-" Taako's hands were gripping the side of the desk so tightly that his knuckles were turning white. "Can't you think for once in your goddamn life? Like, I could keep saving you, but I do not wanna drag your body back to the ship again. What the hell is wrong with you?!"
"I was helping you!" Magnus said. "What, did you just wanna let yourself get attacked by the bear demon? Bemon? Dem-"
"Dear," Taako said. "That's not the point. The point is-"
"Then what is!?" Magnus said, sitting himself up again. He grimaced at the way his stomach shifted, but he fought the urge to lay back down all the same. "It's not like-"
"The point is that I care about you, you stupid fucking oaf!" Taako spat. He slammed his hands against the desk. "Do you think I wanted to watch your ass get mauled by a bear, dumbass? You gotta fucking- ugh. Just-" Taako gripped a handful of his pants leg, probably in an attempt to stop moving so much. Magnus had seen Davenport do the same many times. Suddenly, the uneasiness in his stomach wasn't just from the injury.
"You… care about me?" Magnus asked.
Taako let out a breathless little laugh, scrubbing his eyes with the palms of his hands.
"Is that what you're taking away from this?" Taako said. "Seriously?"
"I mean, I got the other stuff, but- I, uh. You don't really, uhm. Act like you care? I guess?"
"Magnus," Taako said. "You- I make you food."
"Yeah, but that's like, you're job-"
"My job," Taako interrupted, "was to be a fucking arcanist on a two-month mission, doofus. I think at this point, no one cares about what our jobs are. But I- you seriously think I don't care?"
He sounded a little hurt at the accusation. Magnus hurried to backtrack.
"I mean, you care!" Magnus said. "But it's more like, a tolerating thing, I felt, than like, a friendship-"
"Magnus," Taako said again. He sighed, slumping down a little on the desk. "I make you food. I don't-" Taako seemed to hesitate. Slowly, slowly, Magnus lowered himself back into a lying down position, eyes back on the popcorn ceiling. His entire body ached. Taako sighed.
"I know your whole upbringing was like, rustic as shit, so I guess it doesn't really mean anything to you but- it's really fucking hard to get food if you don't have someone to depend on," Taako said. "I mean, Lup and I had each other, but like- you had someone to cook for you and to take care of you as a kid. If Lup or I couldn't find food, that was- that coulda been it, bud.
"I can't- maybe it's just a difference in taste, I guess, but a warm meal is the best fucking thing I can offer you. That's- that's all we had for a long time and if this fuckin- If the apocalypse parade is gonna be following us around, it might be hard to come by at some point. I- yeah. Yeah, I care about you. Duh. I'm not-" Taako's voice shook a little. He took another deep breath. "I'm not gonna let anyone go hungry if I can help it, yeah?"
"Oh," Magnus said. He glanced over at Taako, who was now picking at the seams of his sweater, utterly refusing to meet eye contact. "Yeah. That- that makes sense."
"Good," Taako said. "Great. Glad we got that, uh- figured out."
Magnus cleared his throat, shifting a little in the cot.
"So, uhm," Magnus said. "Is that your blood, or mine?"
"Who's to say."
#magnus burnsides#taako#taz#taz balance#mine#asks#anon#ise cube writing#thank u for sending a prompt in anon :D!!!#tw nausea mention
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The Random Guy in the Carbonite
Or, Jin Ling Meets a Man who is “Definitely not the Yiling Patriarch”
An Untamed star wars au.
Jin ling will admit in the privacy of his own mind, that he did not think this through. Running off to confront one of the most notorious crime bosses of the outer rim was one thing, but ditching the Jedi hired specifically to protect him was not his best move.
In his defense, they had been very annoying. His Uncle and the Jedi master had gotten into a long fight over what plan was best, forgetting entirely that they were Senator Jiang Cheng of Yumeng, famed force user and war hero, and Hanguang-jun, the single most respected of the Lan Jedi to walk the earth. But noooo. Put them together and they argue like children!
People were dying! The clock was ticking down, and Jin Ling had to do something dammit!
What was the point of being the future emperor himself if he couldn’t even save one measly planet from the Hutts?
So yeah, he’d snuck out on his own, confronted the Hutts, and gotten thrown in this dark empty cell, surrounded with solid metal and cut off from his father’s lightsaber.
Well, not completely alone. In the wall was a carbonite encasing of a man, frozen mid scream. At least, Jin Ling assumed it was a man. He looked human, and the cut of his robes were distinctly masculine, but there really was no knowing for sure until he was released.
A grating noise from above snapped his attention away from his frozen companion. Light filtered in as a mechanism removed the dark metal lid above. Jin Ling blinked his eyes, taking a few minutes to realize that this was not salvation or release, but another worse punishment, humiliation.
For above him, separated only by a metal grate, was a growling, hooting crowd of the worst looking ruffians he’d ever seen.
“Welcome guests!” Jimbo the Hutt’s booming voice echoed in the circular arena Jin Ling now realized he was in side. “To witness the battle of a life time!”
“In the corner we have Jin Rulan!” A loud booing filled Jin Ling’s ears.
“You’re going to regret this when my Uncle gets here!” Jin Ling shouted back. “And its Jin Ling!”
“The feisty heir to the emperor himself! Quite the challenger!” Jimbo continued as if he’d not heard Jin Ling. “But lets see how he does against his family’s natural enemy...”
A pure red beam hit the carbonite. Heat danced across Jin Ling’s skin, forcing him to step back as far as he could. Little by little, the carbon melted off, freeing the man beneath.
“...The Yiling Patriarch!!” Jimbo’s voice boomed as the man inside stepped out.
Jin Ling’s blood beat fast in his ears. The Yiling Patriarch? The man who’d made him an orphan, who’d led the second great rebellion against the emperor himself, notorious sith and master of the dead. His knees began to knock. He wanted his Uncle, who’d defeated the man last, froze him in carbonite, and only lost him due to an unexpected attack of pirates. He wanted his dad, who he’d never known, but most of all he wanted Fairy, who Uncle had said would be a hinderance on this particular mission. She would have never let him get caught like this.
The Yiling Patriarch turned his head towards him, black eyes met large and grey, before grey rolled back, and the Yiling Patriarch, feared destroyer of worlds and killer of millions, proceeds to fall flat on his face in a dead fate.
Jin Ling blinked. What the heck was that?
Now he could see him clearer, he began to notice the discrepancies in the supposed enemy of all light force users. His robes were grey and black, but rough and patchy, clearly of poor make. Even the bright red ribbon in his hair was worn on the ends from what was likely years of use. The man himself was too thin, cheeks gaunt from hunger, and far to pale.
In short, this man was definitely not the Yiling Patriarch.
Jin Ling felt a bit foolish. He of all people should have known it wasn’t. After all, his Uncle had been getting sent carbon frozen bodies of “sith users” and the “Yiling Patriarch” since he was a little kid. His Uncle had diligently unfrozen every single one, confronting them on the accusations they’d been brought to him for. Some had been genuine wannabe sith, although nowhere near the level of the Yiling Patriarch. But most had just been ordinary folks who’d bought the cheeper carbon-freezing ticket for space travel on some shady ship, and gotten sold off as a novelty for looking a bit to similar to Wei Wuxian.
Lotus Pier had gotten a reputation for being a very good place to go to rescue stolen family members from these so called carbon thieves.
If Jin Ling had to guess, he’d say this guy was a farmer. He nudged the guy with his foot.
“Hey, wake up.”
The man groaned but didn’t move. Jin Ling shoved him harder. “Get up! This isn’t the place to take a nap!”
He reached his hand down and stuck a finger in the man’s ear. The man gave a shriek and flung himself up and away.
“Shidi what the Hell...” the man’s voice faded as he took in Jin Ling, and then the crowd above them. “...what is going on.”
“You got mistaken for the Yiling Patriarch and now they want us to fight.” Jin Ling shrugged. “Now stop being a baby and help me find a way out!”
“Mistaken?” the man blinked at him.
“Yeah, it happens,” Jin Ling scowled. “Don’t buy shady tickets next time.”
“Hehe, that’s very wise young master,” the man grinned. “You’re pretty smart for a Jin.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jin Ling shook his fist.
“So snippy! No mother to teach you manners I see!” the man laughed.
Jin Ling saw red. He didn’t care that this guy was a civilian, no one talked about his mother like that. He charged forward, fist swinging.
The man stepped easily out of his way. “Good job,” he whispered to Jin Ling as he passed his ear. “Keep fighting like that.”
“Oh I’ll show you a fight!” Jin Ling aimed a kick at the man, but he sidestepped once again.
“Touchy, touchy,” the man shook his head. “I’m trying to get us out of here, you really think they’d let us go if they realized we weren't going to fight?”
Jin Ling lowered his fist. “So you’re doing this on purpose?”
“Of course,” the man struck forward with surprisingly good form. Jin Ling barely managed to parry, and that was only thanks to the unnatural quickness that all force users possessed. “We need a proper distraction if we’re to get out of here.”
“And how are we going to do that?” Jin ling struck out again.
“Oh I’m not going to do anything,” the man laughed and aimed a kick at Jin Ling’s face. “I’m a civilian remember? You’re going to get us out of here.”
“How?” Jin Ling dove forward, but missed, hitting the metal wall instead.
“Using the force of course!” the man laughed. “Find the seams of the metal and the bolts holding it down, somewhere here there has to be a trash shoot. They wouldn’t want to keep dead bodies in here long term.”
“That’s not how the force works!” Jin Ling shot back, then stopped. the man’s suggestion hadn’t been wrong exactly, just not worded very well. Jin Ling hardly had the skill to sense nonhuman things like metal, but all dead things were once living. If there was a trash shoot, he cold find it, he just had to follow the decay.
He closed his eyes and concentrated. The life of the mob above was loud and wild, but down here there were only two signatures, his own and the flickering of the man he was fighting, and just behind him...
“There!” Jin Ling dove forward, slamming directly into the carbon casing.
“Ouch,” the man tutted as he watched Jin Ling stumble back to his feet. “Let your senior help here okay? I’ve worked in the fields, I’m stronger than I look.”
Jin Ling stepped back as the man circled his old prison, thumb in his mouth. Above them the murmuring of the crowd quieted to a disgruntled hum, no doubt wondering what they were doing now they weren’t fighting.
The man darted forward, to the side of the carbon casing. Back to Jin Ling, he shoved his whole wait against the casing. For a second nothing happened, Then the force flickered, a sour taste filled Jin Ling’s mouth, and the casing moved, inch by inch, but faster every second, until the hole beneath it was visible.
Jin Ling frowned. But the taste on the edge of his senses was gone as soon as it came. Had that man used the force?
“What are you waiting for?” the man called. “Thinking later. Escape now!”So saying, he threw himself down the hole.
“Stop him!” Jimbo screamed.
Jin Ling cursed and dove after the man. Together they tumbled down the dark shaft, a disorienting fall of head over feet until it finally met its slimy end in a splat of water.
“Ugh,” Jin Ling pulled himself up. The stench was horrific, iron and rot and sick, sick sick. His clothes were soaked with who knows what and there was slime in his hair...
“Don’t look!” the man slammed a hand over Jin Ling’s eyes. His voice gentled. “This isn’t a sight for young ones.”
“I’m not a kid,” Jin Ling knocked the hand from his eyes. He blinked at his new surroundings, and promptly threw up.
Bodies lay all around them, some complete, some in pieces, some near skeletons and others almost fresh. Jin Ling ducked his head to stare at his own feet, standing next to the decomposing flesh of a human face...
A hand covered his eyes again.
“It’s okay,” the man whispered in his ears. “It’s a lot for anyone. Just don’t look. I can handle it from now on okay?”
Jin Ling nodded and took a deep breath trying to center himself in the force like his Uncle had taught him, but the decay and agony stirred the dark side of the force, making it a struggle.
He heard the man move away, rummaging around in the piss/blood/water.
“What are you looking for?” he asked.
“Just some tools,” the man reassured him. “I know a thing or two about mechanics, and I can get us out.”
“Hurry,” Jin Ling choked out, the force was moving all wrong, resentment thick in the air. Even his companion’s presence seemed to flicker in and out against it, leaving him uncertain where exactly he was.
A click echoed through the sound. “Done,” the man said.
Jin Ling began to lower his hand, but the man’s own stopped him. “It’s alright,” the man’s hand lowered to Jin Ling’s elbow. “The way it clear. You don’t need to look again, I’ll lead you.”
Jin Ling wanted to protest, to point out he wasn’t a baby, he could handle it, but the dark side of the force was choking him, eating away at his bravado until all the remained was the scared boy who really, really wanted his Uncle.
“That’s it,” the man spoke as he guided Jin Ling forward. “Step up now, over the entrance, good, good. There we go.”
Jin Ling’s feet stepped onto solid ground, the faint clink of metal beneath his boots. Behind him the resentment rose up, a furious at being robbed of its prey. Then another, sharper, redder resentment clashed with it, sending it back into the trash pit. A loud clank sounded behind him, and both presences cut off.
“You can look now,” the man said.
Jin Ling blinked the spots from his eyes. They were in a corridor, just another black metal like all the others in this maze of a palace. Beside him, the man knelt before a control panel, having yanked it open to fiddle with the wiring.
“What are you doing?” Jin Ling scowled, trying to recollect himself. “We need to run!”
“Not without a map we aren’t!” The man said. The panel glowed green under his fingers and he laughed with delight. “Bingo!”
Jin Ling leaned over him, to look at the small screen built in above the wires, dictating two pathways in red and green. “Is that the way out?”
“Not bad for a radish farmer is it?” the man beamed. “Let’s go!”
“Wait.” Jin Ling shook his head. “I can’t go. I have to get my lightsaber.”
“Just build another one,” the man dismissed, reaching out to drag Jin Ling towards the path.
“I can’t!” Jin Ling bristled, shoving the man off. “It was my fathers! It’s all I have left of him!”
The man stopped. “Your father’s?”
“Yes!” Jin Ling crossed his arms. “And I’m not leaving it!”
The man hesitated.
“It also has a tracker in it,” Jin Ling went for the killing blow. “And a panic button. We hit it and the Jedi and the whole of Yumeng Jiang will come down on their heads!”
“Yumeng Jiang?” the man startled.
“My uncle,” Jin Ling sniffed. “So its our best bet.”
“Okay.” The man let out a breath. “Okay you can go to your lightsaber. I’ll calculate you a path. But as for me...I’m getting out of here.”
Jin Ling abruptly remembered that this man was a civilian. He didn’t ask to get mixed up in this. “Fine.”
The man gave him a small smile. He reached into the control panel and pressed a few more buttons before pulling the screen itself out and shoving it into Jin Ling’s hands.
“This map will lead you to your lightsaber,” he said.
“What about you?” Jin Ling asked.
“It’s all up here,” the man rapped his knuckles on his head. “Don’t worry about me.” The smile slid off his face. “Be safe Jin Rulan.”
“Jin Ling,” Jin Ling corrected automatically. “How did you...” the man raised an eyebrow. Right. Emperors nephew. Famous. Of course he knew his name.
Speaking of which...”What’s yours?” Jin Ling asked. The man had never said, and unlike Jin Ling, he didn’t have his plastered all across the galaxy. All he knew was it wasn’t Wei Wuxian.
“Yuandao,” the man smiled. “I’m Yuandao the radish farmer.”
“Yuandao,” Jin Ling repeated. “Come to Yumeng when you’re free. My Uncle will help you find your family. They’ll probably be worried since you got frozen.”
Yuandao’s smile twisted. “Goodbye Jin Ling.”
“Goodbye.” Jin Ling awkwardly agreed, before taking off down the hall towards his lightsaber. He had an Uncle to call.
-------
Behind him the man who was not Yuandao stood and watched until the boy was out of sight. Then he turned back to the trash door and opened it, to meet the standing force of the dead within.
He nodded to one of the fresher dead who still wore the uniform of the Hutt’s staff. “Follow him, make sure he gets there safely but don’t be seen. Lie still on the ground so that they think you’re a fresh kill. As for the rest of you,” His eyes flashed red.
“Make sure to teach that Hutt a lesson.
#the untamed#wei wuxian#jin ling#mo dao zu shi#mdzs#mdzs au#the untamed au#star wars au#untamed star wars au#wei wuxian is a little out of character but listen#no one messes with shijie's kid
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WIP Wednesday For You Pay the Cost
I'm currently working on the Méndez boss fight. Here are two little snippets from it. This is probably the most rough I've ever posted. Usually my WIP Wednesday stuff has gone through a bit of editing, but these chunks haven't. They're as close to raw as they can get.
Currently the fight is at 3K words, and I'm expecting another 2K at least, since I haven't even hit phase two yet.
Anyways, enjoy! I'm off to work. (Update might not be next week, with the holidays this weekend, and I'm hosting, claiming my days off, my time to write will be limited. I wouldn't be surprised if the update drops late next week or early the week after)
1.
“Be careful,” Ashley said behind him. It was clear that she had picked up on his unease as well.
“I always am,” he said but that didn’t seem to have the effect he wanted. He supposed his arm in a sling was proof enough that just being careful wasn’t all he needed to do. The movement to Leon’s right was so sudden and explosive that he hardly had time to turn his head. His body was hit, hard, enough to throw him against the side rail and snap it. The momentum carried him across the open space and he hit the concrete floor below with force. Leon would have cried out in pain if the wind hadn’t been kicked from his lungs.
He rolled several times before he came to a stop face down. He lay there motionless, trying to force his lungs to remember how to breathe. His eyes were watering and his vision was white with pain. Finally, he drew a gasp, then another, like a fish out of water. Something off to his right hit the floor as well, it was heavy, and gave no cry of pain. It wasn’t Ashley. Leon pulled his good arm up underneath him and pushed. Slowly he got himself to his knees and looked over. It was Méndez. He turned so he was facing him, his whole body was still shaking with pain. When he looked up at the where he was, he saw a hole had been busted through the wooden wall. That man wasn’t human, that was for certain. There was no way someone could ram him through a solid wood wall with enough force to break metal and likely bone. Leon carefully felt around his ribs but he couldn’t tell if the pain there was from the giant fight, the bull man’s hammer, or the various other times he had been thrown around today.
Méndez started to walk towards him, slowly, in a manner not unlike something that had cornered its prey. “Little Protector, you have forced my hand.”
Leon was still struggling to process his own bodies movements; words were lost on him. But he heard Ashley call out from above, she was still near the walkway. “Leon! Oh my god, are you ok?”
At the sound of her voice Méndez turned to look at her. “I feel I must apologize, for what I am about to do to your Protector.” At that Leon shook his head and reached for his SG. He was able to get two good shots off. The first one hit Méndez in the back, he turned to look over at Leon and the second caught his chest. Fatal shots to someone who was human. “Cease your pointless struggling. Your body has already begun the change, abandon who you were and accept the will of our God.”
“You’re a shitty missionary you know that?” Leon managed to say between gasps of air. Méndez reached down to pick up his hat, it had fallen when he rammed into Leon from above.
Mendez began his approach again. “Lord Saddler wants you alive. But I think he’s making a mistake. You now share our blood, you have been bestowed our gifts, but you fight us every step of the way. You are unwilling and unworthy, and for that I must destroy you. Surely our Lord shall understand, and the Lady will be provided with a new Protector, one who understands its place.”
Leon didn’t like the sound of that. He shot three more times. It didn’t look like Méndez felt a single one. Leon might as well have been shooting him with BBs. “Oh almighty! Grant me the strength to fix your mistake!”
“Son of a bitch,” Leon muttered under his breath. He was going to have to fight, and the odds were looking less in his favor than normal. He quickly scanned the room for anything he could use to his advantage. This was a meat processing house after all, there had to be something he could use. He spotted a machine, a hoist, for hauling the carcasses up onto the tables, it looked like it was gas powered. Sure enough, there were barrels not too far away labeled “fuel”. Leon forced himself to his feet and shouted up at the walkway, “Ashley! Run!”
“Ok!” Her voice seemed hesitant, but her actions weren’t. With one last look down at Leon she sprinted for the stairs that led to the door to the outside.
Once he saw her orange jacket vanish through the door, he kicked the barrel over and shoved it towards Méndez. It started its roll towards the man and Leon didn’t have time to come up with anything clever to say besides, “Hasta luego!” He shot and the barrel exploded upon impact.
That wasn’t the only barrel of fuel, Leon didn’t notice that others had been stored nearby until he heard them go off. Four more loud bangs sounded off, followed by intense flames and clouds of thick, dark smoke. Another set of explosions pounded in from the opposite side, gasoline splattering the walls and pillars of the room. Everything was quickly caught in an intense blaze. Leon shielded his face with his good arm until the explosions ceased. When he lowered it he couldn’t see what was left of Méndez through the thick smoke. His next move was to try to find his own way out.
He looked behind him but there wasn’t a door, just a staircase to another walkway. The only door seemed to be behind the wall of fire he had just created. “Great,” Leon muttered. He solved one problem with another. He would have to run through the fire to get out. Not ideal. It could very well kill him. He gathered himself and started to move towards the fire when something stopped him, a chill ran down his spine despite the heat. Something else was moving in the haze of the flames.
Leon could hear a snapping sound, like breaking branches, followed by the wet sound of meat being torn apart. Again, that sound hit his ears, then he recognized it, bone snapping. It cracked and popped, blending in with the wood that was burning all around them. Through the fire he could see something twitching, then jerking upwards. With each pop it grew taller and it swayed back and forth on what Leon could only assume were legs. Then the whole figure turned towards Leon and began to advance towards him.
Méndez stepped into view. His upper body had become separated from his lower half. It sat on an elongated, exposed spine. Each set of vertebrae now sported sharp insectoid legs that wiggled independently from each other. It reminded him of a centipede. Leon took a step back, then another. “The fuck?” Méndez grew closer still, he didn’t seem disturbed by his body’s sudden mutation.
“God, I thank you for your gift,” Méndez said as he calmly strode towards Leon. Two bulbus growths on his back burst at once, spraying fluid as his body lurched and rolled. Two more appendages sprang out of his back, insectoid again, long, thick, with five joints. Corse hair and spines glinted fresh in the firelight. The tips were curved and sharp. No doubt they were designed to pierce. The limbs were dragging on the floor as Méndez gathered himself, strong spine pulling his upper body and the new arms back up to their full height.
Leon was already backing up. His claws and carapace suddenly seemed a lot less threatening. He spread his mandibles wide and hissed before he said, “You wanna get ugly? Let’s get ugly!” Bold words from a frightened man.
Méndez once more didn’t seem impressed by his threat display or the words that followed. He simply laughed and said, “I knew God would see my side, I knew he would agree with me. You will not live to regret your choice to turn your back on us. Now, behold the miracle!”
2.
Méndez seemed to be getting frustrated. He lashed out more desperately than before. The erratic movements were harder to predict, harder to dodge and Leon caught one to the side that flung him against the wall. The air wasn’t knocked from his lungs this time and he recovered quickly. He quickly shot a few times to distract the monster as he fully got back to his feet. Sweat was running down his back, or at least, Leon hoped it was sweat. He wiped his face, somehow the carapace on his hand was cool despite the heat around him.
“We share the same blood,” Méndez said as he turned to make his way over to where he had tossed Leon, “why do you resist?”
“I’m not answering that, there’s nothing I could say to a man who’s lost himself.” Leon shot again, this time more bullets hit than missed. He was getting more confident and comfortable aiming one handed. “I don’t share your blood either,” Leon spat. He could feel Méndez’s gaze on him. “D-Don’t look at me! I’m not like you, I’ll never be like you! Some sort of monster!” He flared his jaws and said, “You freaks can mess my face up, change my legs, my arms, I don’t care! I won’t be like you, it won’t work.”
“And that, Little Protector, is why I’ve decided to exterminate you.” In a movement faster than what Leon could see, Méndez swiped and caught Leon off balance. He moved in and grabbed the other man with his human hands. He had long, sharp, talons that didn’t struggle in piercing between Leon’s neck plates. He squirmed and struggled in his grasp. “To think you could be this foolish, to reject a gift as wonderful as this!”
Leon looked at Méndez, if there was a good man in there, he was lost now. That Leon was certain of. He couldn’t reach his knife with his injured arm, nor could he get it with his free hand. He kicked out and slashed at Méndez’s chest with his feet claws. The pressure on his neck tightened and he hissed in pain not intimidation. His heart was beating faster now, he needed a way out and fast. He tried again with the claws on his feet. He managed to rake them across his chest but despite digging in deep Méndez didn’t let go. He moved his hand with the SG just enough to line up with Méndez’s leg. He closed his eyes and prayed he didn’t miss. He squeezed the trigger and shot three times, his knee buckled and Leon felt himself drop to the floor.
He landed and scooted back as Méndez fell against the upper walkway. He roared and looked over at him. Leon felt a chill run through him. Those insect arms were a lot longer than they appeared. Mendez flung them out and they came crashing down on him like trees. There wasn’t any space to dodge, his back was against the wall, he had cornered himself again.
Leon didn’t even have time to swear. He raised his good arm and closed his eyes. Ready to hear the crack of carapace and then nothing as he was crushed under the weight of Méndez’s arms. The searing pain was just what Leon expected, only it hadn’t come from his arm, but his sides. Both sides of his body flashed hot with pain, just below his ribcage, as something split his skin and burst forth from his body.
Leon dropped to one knee and cried out. He wasn’t dead, but he sure felt he should be. His body spasmed. His brain was registering resistance on what felt like an arm, but not the arm he was used to. Through watering eyes, he looked up and saw limbs he didn’t recognize. They were holding off Méndez’s claw, which was far too close to his face for his own comfort.
Leon knew they were his immediately. He didn’t even have to look to see where they were connected, he just knew. He had two more arms now, and they were in the process of saving his life. His body shuddered and the new limbs crawled further from his body. With each push they grew longer and stronger. Leon watched as a hand formed at the end of each one. The fingers that unraveled looked like a human’s for a brief moment, before the pointer and middle fingers fused into a long blade like claw. He pushed back hard against Méndez and was surprised to find the monster giving ground to him.
Leon screamed as his body gave one last push and the arms fully extended out of his body. He stood and shoved the limb off and ducked to the side. He took a brief moment to catch his breath and look at the two new arms by his side. They were thin, more like insect limbs than human, but they had the correct number of human joints, a clear shoulder, or pivot point against his body, then an elbow and wrist. The hands weren’t human anymore, but they did have three fingers. That, Leon decided, was enough to hold a shotgun with.
Blood and fluid leaked down Leon’s sides from spot where the new limbs had burst forth, but already the pain was dulling. That healing factor was kicking in again. Leon holstered his handgun and moved for the shotgun. Sure enough, the new arm responded just like his old, injured one. It found its place on the front of the shotgun, the long blade like claw was easy to rest the gun against and the remaining fingers held it in place.
He moved in on Méndez, firing as he walked. The Merchant hadn’t been kidding, this gun packed a hell of a punch, but he hardly felt it against his shoulder. He fired three shots in rapid succession into the spine and Méndez finally howled in pain. He curled in on himself, human arms wrapping around his exposed spine. When he looked at Leon there was pure hatred burning in his eye. “Why? Why has God given you, a heretic, a gift? Have I been betrayed? Was my judgment not true?” Leon didn’t have the answers that the monster needed. He just shot again and again, pumping him full of lead. Méndez swept out again with the long piercing limb. This time Leon jumped on top of it, his dexterous toes wrapping around the limb and he followed the swing as it moved him closer to the upper walkway. He pushed off and jumped to the upper floor in one smooth movement. This time when he spread his jaws and hissed Méndez flinched. “Maybe it’s time to take this “Little Protector” seriously!”
#WIP Wednesday#You Pay the Cost#Resident Evil#Leon Kennedy#Plaga Leon AU#Verdugo Leon AU#Resident Evil 4
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Sicktember #3
Prompt: “What happened to your phenomenal immune system, huh?”
Fandom/OCs: New Girl (Schmidt and CeCe)
Words: 1240
Sicknario inspo: Knowing someone is sick because they sleep in from this post, "sounding like that" from this post, sleeping on her side of the bed from this post.
Author’s comments/background: I’m not used to writing this fandom, so idk how good the characterization is. But I love Schmidt and CeCe’s dynamic and it was fun to (attempt to) explore. And there is simply not enough New Girl sickfic in the world so here you go.
~~~***~~~
Dating a person like Schmidt was never boring. He was anything but predictable. However, he WAS a man of routine. Every time CeCe had slept over, it was always he that woke her, whether by bringing her breakfast or by exercising in the room to show off his body, or by kissing her somewhere sensual, he was always the early riser. Therefore, when one day she woke to find him still snoring beside her, she knew immediately that something was wrong.
She ran a hand down his arm, and he barely stirred. His skin was very warm. All of him was, she realized, and had been for a while. She was sweating just lying next to him. She slid out of bed, and still he didn't move. She watched him for a moment, frowning in concern as she debated waking him. He slept like the dead, though, breathing thickly, so she decided to leave him be.
Pulling on a robe, she padded out to the kitchen just as Nick and Jess emerged from their rooms as well. They headed straight for the coffee pot, barely awake, but stopped when they realized it was empty. They wordlessly turned to CeCe.
"Why didn't Schmidt make coffee this morning?" Jess mumbled, barely awake.
"Schmidt's not up yet."
That roused them more than anything else could have. Nick and Jess glanced at each other worriedly.
"He's not… awake? How is that possible?" Nick asked. "It's Schmidt. He's like a robot. He's programmed to get up at the exact same time every day and make us coffee."
"Not today, I guess," said CeCe. "I think he's sick. He's like, super warm. And he's snoring. It's not normal."
Nick groaned. "Great. His delicate internal wiring is compromised. Who knows what'll happen now. Sick Schmidt is a very bad thing. I'm not sticking around here until he wakes up. We're getting dressed and we're leaving, Jess."
"But–" Jess tried, looking at the coffee pot forlornly. Nick grabbed her arm and led her back to the bedroom before she could finish, closing the door behind them.
CeCe sighed. So much for getting any help from them.This was the first time she had ever dealt with sick Schmidt before, and she was at a loss.
When people were sick, what did they need? Medicine probably. Soup. Water. She could handle that. She didn't want to wake him up, though, since sleep was important too. She decided to leave him be for the time being. At least it was Saturday and she wouldn't have to worry about dealing with his job for a few days.
She got ready around him, listening to him snuffle and snore and mumble. Just as she was nearly finished, he rolled over suddenly. The movement apparently shifted whatever was in his nose, because he suddenly lifted his head to sneeze thickly:
"Hnnkkt'CHUH! Hehgg'CHUHH! EHHG'choo!"
He had clumsily thrown his elbow over his face in an attempt at covering, but the spray had still gone everywhere. Schmidt made a disgusted noise, clawing several tissues out of the box by his bed and scrubbing everywhere he could reach.
"Bless you," CeCe said, making him jump.
He looked beside him where she had been lying then back at her, as if making sure he wasn't hallucinating.
"CeCe? Why are you upb so early?" he mumbled, his voice rough and congested.
"It's not early, babe. It's late. It's after ten."
"Whadt!?" He jumped out of bed, staggering against the wall for a minute before he found his balance. "I godda go for mby Saturday run," he croaked. "I ndever mbiss mby run." He began to rifle through his dresser for his running clothes.
CeCe moved to his side, grabbing his hands to still them and pushing the dresser drawer closed with her hip. "You're definitely not going for a run sounding like that. You'd pass out from not breathing."
"I'mb fide, CeCe," he said, swiping at his nose with his shoulder.
"No. You're not. You're sick," she said.
"I'mb ndot sigck. I take extreme precautions and have a phenombenal immbune systemb. I ndever gedt sigck. Idt's jusdt… allergies."
CeCe rolled her eyes. "You're sick, trust me. You have a fever. You woke me up because you were so hot."
"Girl, you know I'mb always hodt," he said, taking a stab at his usual attitude and failing miserably.
"Uh huh, sure," she said, unimpressed. "I'm just saying, you should take some medicine for all that hotness or you're just going to feel worse."
"Girl, they don't mbake mbedicine for whadt I godt," he tried again, coming off even less convincing.
"Nope, they sure don't," she said flatly, grabbing her purse. "Whatever, do what you want. I have to go, Schmidt, I've got a gig at noon. But I'll be back when I'm done. Jess and Nick and Winston left, so please try not to do anything stupid until I get back. At least drink some orange juice or something. And maybe don't leave the apartment. I'm worried you'd get lost with a fever like that."
"I'mb fide, CeCe, really."
"Whatever you say, Schmidt. I'll see you in a few hours." With that she left, shaking her head, hoping against hope that he couldn't do too much damage to himself in that time.
~~~
She let herself into the loft with some trepidation that evening, wondering what she would find. The apartment was dark and quiet, and Schmidt was nowhere to be seen. Tossing down her stuff, she went in search of him. To her shock, she was exactly where she'd hoped he'd be… in bed, in his pajamas, napping, surrounded by used tissues. There was another break in routine, though: he was sleeping on her side of the bed, his face pressed into her pillowcase. Her face softened at the sight, and she went to his side, trailing her nails over his arm. His eyes flickered open, then lit up upon seeing her.
"CeCe, you're bagck! How was your gig?"
"Fine. The usual. Hot, dumb models and ugly, dumb directors everywhere. You would've loved it."
"Sounds like a dreamb," he yawned.
"But how are you? How are you feeling, actually?"
"Sigck," he muttered. "Tired. I barely lefdt this roomb all day."
"What happened to your phenomenal immune system, huh?" she gently teased as she shimmied out of her shoes and dress and pulled on a robe.
"Idt abandoned mbe, jusdt like everyone else," he sighed pathetically, closing his eyes.
"I'm here, aren't I? And look, you didn't even leave me room on the bed. Why are you lying over here, anyway?"
"Smbells like you," he said, barely audible, even as he shifted over to make room for her.
She had no smart remark to that, since it tugged on her heartstrings just a little too hard. She brushed away most of the tissues, then slid in next to him on the bed, letting her boyfriend cuddle into her arms immediately. He made a needy sound.
"I mbissed you," he sighed. "I hate bei'g sigck. Idt ruins everythi'g."
"Yeah, I get that," she said. "Makes for great cuddle time, though."
At last, she saw him smile for the first time all day. "Guess you'll have to show mbe."
And that's exactly what she did.
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but also, how opposites attract bringing danny and maria close.
how theyve both had some rough upbringings - his father being a.busive and driving his mom away, hers abandoning them and mama flores and having to grow up faster in that respect to help raise ana and make sure they got by - how that in turn soured danny and made him rough around the edges, pointed jagged ends, walled and beat his emotions into the dirt in order to protect himself vs maria choosing to turn that hurt into motivation to be there for ana, to be something positive and help her understand that while yes what papa flores did was fucking cruel and heartless, theres still so much to the world to not get hung up over it too much, so much love and peace and beauty and kindness and awe to everything that allowing one person, one bad deed, etc ruin all of it for you doesnt need to happen.
its dannys unending pessimism at life and people and distrust in intention or behavior that isolates him and renders it difficult to make alot of meaningful bonds with people. and its marias unrelenting optimism that says yes people can be bad and yes people can do bad but that doesnt always mean they are ALWAYS bad. its the yes we go through horrible experiences and meet horrible people and alot of times that sticks with us and alters how we react to events or other people, but letting it take such a looming presence in your life can be so detrimental and its allowing them to have such a chokehold and control over you that they dont deserve to have. not all people are always bad, and not all of them are always good, and she believes its more harmful to always have that guard up so firmly rather than allow people the chance to show they arent - like she did with him.
its the difference of how they both viewed the world vs marias impact on him that alters it and vice versa.
how maria looks at the world around her and finds importance, significance, love, peace in so much and how most seems so insignificant in the grand scheme of things but how it is appreciating those little things that in her eyes matter. its sitting in a field watching the petals on the wildflowers dance in the breeze. its lying in the grass and watching clouds lazily float on by. its getting caught in a downpour and running out barefoot to stand in the rain. its stepping out during snowfall and catching the flakes on your tongue. its bonding with your pet and welcoming them up to huddle with you to sleep. the sound of laughter, the smiles of your friends, the love thats shared with slices of oranges and clementines. so much that seems so small unassuming unimportant in the general of life but that she personally believes to be so important to notice, at least every once in a while.
how for him life was always stones being thrown at you, how the smiles on friends faces were normally that of mocking, hate, vitriol. how theres suspicion in someone walking nearby with head ducked and glancing sideways at you. how so called comradery, so called friendship was love with balled fists cracking against jaws or kicking you on the ground and leaving you there without a care, with only laughter and jokes made at your expense. how the only thing danny saw when he would sit beside her looking out at fields was, how nice it'd be to just fucking run off and disappear and never be seen or heard from again. how the red petals of some of the wildflowers look like bloodstains strewn about the meadow rather than something gentle, something soft.
how sitting there listening to her, time and time and time again, slowly altered those views and made him start to see things a little differently. how yeah to him the flowers are still flowers and rain or snow are still just that - but its the moment being lived in, experienced, that changes how you view it. how flowers in the breeze reminds him of her perfumes or lotion. how snow reminds him of those snowball fights rather than standing alone at parks watching families have fun together during the holidays.
its small things, that she helped him seeing, that makes him slowly change over the years. that makes it easier to connect with others, bond with new faces that he otherwise never would have bothered even saying a simple hello to. like maria is, truly, such a vital person in his life and losing her really is just fucking devastating to him.
#like how do you go about life when the one person that showed you how much good there is in it got so royally fucked over?#what literally is the fucking point if being so good so kind so trusting and loving and caring gets you the kinds of fate it does maria?#[ ❤ ] ── * 𝐁𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐒. { maria&danny / self. }#[ mf ] ── * 𝐇𝐂 / 𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐄. { maria. }#[ d ] ── * 𝐇𝐂 / 𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐄. { danny. }
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Breeding Your Kitty.. /Sukuna Ryomen x Female Reader/ [Requested]
. . .
Warnings: slow pounding . doggy . hair pulling . mean!sukuna . teasing and name-calling . rough fucking . threats of exhibitionism . dacryphilia . spanking . calling that pussy a kitty/(among other things) . sloppy kisses . creampie . condoms to raw dogging (stay safe cuties) . a load to the clit . reader is a jujutsu sorcerer . slight yuji x reader at the end but it doesn't last long . yuji is aged up! (early 20's) . a sort of forbidden love drabble
reader: female reader
plot: just a horny drabble~ ^^
words: 779
a/n: Srry this took so long, i hope you stilll enjoyed the read!! I wish I could've made it longer but I did enjoy writing something small to fill your horny belly TT
~~
Thanks for reading this bit! Enjoy!
. . .
"M-Mmnn.. Yes..!" You whined.
Such an immense amount of power.. could you handle it?
Your voice already sore from your previous screams, Sukuna's cock buried deep inside you with his hands firmly placed on your hips and thrusting his hips back and forth into your ass.
His eyes glued to the fat of your butt, watching it bounce and slap against his pelvis with an evil grin.
"Such a cute pet you are, sorcerer!" He cooed, his hands groping at your bottom. "Never thought such a little slut would try and get my attention.."
You couldn't tell what he was saying, only feeling another orgasm bubble in your tummy. How many rounds was this? When would he be done?
"Though, now that you have it," Sukuna continued, his hand coming up to run under your hair and nape. His fingers entangling in your strands as he gave a sharp tug, his hips rutting up into you as he did so and making you sob.
"You better use my time wisely.. I don't just fuck anyone, y'know."
You gave another mewl as Sukuna's thrust picked up speed, hearing the slick of the condom rub against your wet folds and insides. Though, the panting and whimpering you were making would soon become another blur of cries and pleas as you orgasmed once again on the King of Curses cock.
What would the others think of you if they saw you?
"Haa.. Fuck, yeah," Sukuna cursed, pulling his length from your soft mound and pulling the pink baby-preventer off and staring at the load that he had just busted inside it.
A sly grin filling his cheeks as he turned his attention to your twitching hole. "How 'bout I give you a few more loads raw, little sorcerer?"
"Wh-Wha..? N-No, please.." You whimpered, your eyes turning back to look from Sukuna's ruby eyes to his still pulsing cock.
The sight alone looked like your dinner was being served; hot and steamy with a few beads of cum dripping from the red tip, the previous rounds still on his dick. You gave a whimper when Sukuna's hand slapped your ass, his giggle drawing your attention back to his lust-driven eyes.
"Listen, cutie," He purred, his hand still in your hair giving a tug as he lowered his head closer. "I'm not done with that pretty kitty of yours yet, so I'm gonna take my time and pump you full."
Your body shuddered at the mentions of more, feeling your legs press together as your slick clung to your skin. Sukuna's lips met yours in a feverish kiss. Warm and wet, a sloppy kiss your heart fluttered at as he rubbed his swollen mushroomed tip against your folds again.
"Gimme a few hiers for my throne, yeah?"
Moments had passed after he had thrown you onto your bed, lifting your head up and pressing your knees next to both sides of your head. His hands hold onto the back of your thighs as he slips back inside the warm haven of your cunt. Feeling the pulsing walls and grinding his ever savory cock deeper until his tip felt your wombs entrance.
With a satisfied chuckle, Sukuna began pounding himself into you. The beds' moans and creaks the least of your worries compared to your own voice. It was hoarse but still loud and extremely lewd.
Sukuna was indeed surprised such a mortal could have such wanton moans even after fucking for so long.
"Such cute noises, human," He sighed, feeling your pussy constrict around him as he pressed his weight into you. The fully feeling in your belly only growing once you saw the little bulge sticking out from inside you.
Sukuna gave yet another crazy giggle, holding your hips firmly into place and thrusting himself into you harder and harder by the moment. Letting out a hoarse whimper, you felt your tummy tighten for the last time, unable to bear another orgasm as Sukuna pulled from your pussy and came on your clit.
The milky substance covered your engorged lower lips, a satisfied coo echoing the cursed being's excitment.
"So glad to have fucked an amazing pussy," He teased, watching your cheeks bloom a pretty pink. "Don't worry though, there's always a next time for me to try and impregnate you!"
You gave a mewl as Sukuna played with your entrance for another moment, his eyes closing as he did so and a low sigh leaving him.
Seconds passed as a shocked Yuji Itadori, Sukuna Ryomen's vessel and a younger jujutsu sorcerer, opened his eyes and took in the sight of little ol' you and your creampied pussy.
"Oh.. it happened again, huh?"
a/n:: I can't help but think of Sukuna pounding into you with the song "Beast" by Mia Martina in slow + reverb. anyways, hello hello! ^^ decided to finish a friend's drabble while i was working on Valentino! i hope you enjoy it bestie, stay horny lool XD
song:
— Mia Martina - Beast (s l o w e d + r e v e r b)
tag: @sukunaspersonalfleshlight
#ryomen sukuna#sukuna x reader#sukuna icons#sukun#sukuna#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#jjk smut#jujustu kaisen#jujutsu#anime#sukuna jjk#sukuna ryomen#sukuna jujutsu kaisen#ryoumen sukuna#sukuna x you#sukuna ryoumen x reader#sukuna smut#sukuna ryoumen#sukuna ryoumen x you#sukuna ryoumen smut#jujutsu kaisen ryomen#ryomen sukuna x reader#sukuna ryomen smut#jjk ryomen#ryomen x reader
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