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yuujispinkhair · 4 months

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Good Boy

Sukuna is a powerful man. Everybody knows him as the successful and arrogant CEO of the SHRINE company. But they don't know that at home, in the bedroom, he is a very different man. Only you know what Sukuna truly needs to be able to function in his stressful job.

Pairing: Sub!Sukuna x Dom!Reader (female) Genre: smut + fluff Word Count: 5.5k Warnings: 18+, smut, BDSM elements, sub+dom dynamic, reader is a soft dom, restraining, collaring, impact play (flogging with a leather paddle), dirty talk, spitting in Sukuna's mouth, praise, edging, Sukuna cums untouched on command, pegging (Sukuna receiving). This is a modern + no-curses AU. Sukuna is a CEO and married to Reader. All things happen with mutual consent. All characters are of age. Minors don't interact. Dividers by @/benkeibear

Sukuna is a powerful man. Successful and feared by many. A big player in the business world. He makes it look easy, makes it look like he can do all of that effortlessly. He keeps up a high pace, coming to work before everyone else and only leaving after the sun has set. Attending business events and giving interviews for magazines while always wearing a smug smirk on his handsome face. Always hiding his true self behind a mask of professionalism and arrogance.

No one is allowed to see behind that mask. With one exception. There is one person who knows how stressed Sukuna truly is. How tired he is. Only one person knows the toll his work takes on him. Only you. Only his wife.

You are the only one who knows that sometimes the powerful CEO needs a break from everything. Only you know that sometimes this big, strong, and powerful man wants to be on his knees for you, bound and collared, needing to hear you call him your good boy before he is able to cum.

Sukuna hadn't known this side of himself for a long time. Maybe it was because he wasn't mature enough in his younger years. Maybe it was because his past relationships never offered him the amount of trust and love that the relationship with you gives him.

But Sukuna still remembers the day that changed everything. The day that made him discover something about himself and about his deepest needs.

He only wanted to take a short trip to your favorite lingerie boutique to buy a little something for you for White Day. A new set of sinfully expensive lingerie that you could wear for him.

It had been a stressful day at work, a meeting with the CEO of a rival company that had left Sukuna pissed off and on the edge. He hoped to find distraction in picking sexy underwear for his beloved wife, picturing you in it, easing his mind with thoughts of fucking you while you wore that pretty red lacey set with the little heart dangling from it.

But things didn't go as Sukuna had planned. His gaze strayed away from the luxurious red lace lingerie and landed on a display of collars. And all of a sudden Sukuna felt conflicted. So damn conflicted.

At that moment, he couldn't tell why the sight of those collars made him feel so strange. He drew his gaze away again and strolled to another corner of the boutique to look at more beautiful lingerie sets. But he couldn't focus. His thoughts stayed occupied with those leather collars. And suddenly, he found that his feet had carried him back to that one display.

He walked past it several times until he sighed and finally stopped in front of it, took one collar out of the shelf, and let it glide through his fingers. The black leather felt nice in his hand, smooth and warm. He tried to picture it on you, but to his utter surprise, he realized that it wasn't you who he wanted to put it on.

Oh. That is interesting.

He gulped.

His large hand trembled slightly when he brought the collar up a bit. He held it in front of his throat, feeling his pulse accelerate at seeing his faint reflection in the glass display.

What if...

He ground his teeth in annoyance when the shop assistant interrupted his moment by walking up to him.

"I see you are also interested in our Playtime Collection, sir. All collars and restraints are of the highest quality, of course. They offer high comfort and long usage. Do you want to pick one for your wife to go with the lingerie? I would recommend a thinner one in that case, more delicate, and maybe in a matching red? We also have some collars with a diamond charm. That collection is very popular for White Day. Should I get it for you?"

Sukuna stood there in silence for several seconds, too stunned to say anything. A rare moment for the CEO of the SHRINE Company. But he was a professional, after all, and so he turned around to smile politely at the shop assistant, his usual mask perfectly in place, as he informed her,

"No, thank you. This one is perfect. Put it in a separate gift box, please."

He left the shop feeling light-headed, and the bag sitting on the passenger seat of his Porsche seemed to emit a seductive lure the whole drive home, making adrenaline pump through Sukuna's veins.

What if she puts that collar on me?

The thought excited him and made him feel ashamed at the same time.

Never had he imagined he would be into this. Wasn't it embarrassing that a man like him even contemplated something like this?

But underneath that shame was something else. Something he craved: Comfort.

He knew what a collar like that meant. I wasn't just a pretty little accessory. It meant giving yourself to someone. It meant a sub giving themselves into their dom's hands fully. And that was a thought that made him grip the steering wheel tighter.

Wouldn't it be lovely? Wouldn't it be exactly what he needed after a hard day like this? Coming home and letting you put a collar on him? Giving himself into your loving hands? Handing control over to you. He loved you with his whole heart and soul. He trusted you like he never thought he could trust someone apart from himself.

Wouldn't it be so comforting to let you collar him and dominate him completely? Wouldn't it be such a relief to let himself fall into you? To hand control over to someone else, at least for a few hours, in the safety of his home?

The thought made a low groan slip from Sukuna's mouth.

He hid the small gift box in the walk-in closet. It sat there next to his designer watches and golden cufflinks, waiting for him to finally propose the idea to you.

When he did, after an exquisite dinner a few days later, you had smiled at him, slipped on his lap, and petted his hair, eyes filled with love and understanding.

"You want me to collar you? You want to be my... submissive?"

"Yes, that's what I want, darling. Only if you are comfortable with the idea."

"Of course I am. It will help you with all the pressure at work. It will help you let go. You know I am always worried about you with all the high stress levels you have day in and day out. I'm glad you came to me with this idea, Sukuna."

He released a breath of relief and tightened his arms around you. Of course, you understood. You always knew exactly what he needed.

Sukuna laughed softly. How funny it was. Here he was, this tall, buff man with a body full of solid muscles and intimidating-looking tattoos, someone who was feared in the whole business world, while you were so soft and small compared to him. But he knew you would catch him. He knew you would be strong, so he could be weak. He knew he wanted to be on his knees for you.

You did research starting that night. You discussed everything with him, set boundaries, and outlined how you both expected this dynamic to work. You went shopping with him the next day, getting everything you needed. You started slowly and tried things, experimenting to see what you both liked and to find out what exactly Sukuna needed.

That was a year ago. Sukuna has been collared for eleven months now, and he has never felt more liberated in his life. The collar grounds him. The collar takes the pressure off.

Sometimes, when he has an extremely stressful day in the office, he takes five minutes off to close his eyes and imagine coming home and getting on his knees for you. Just the thought of you putting his collar on him tonight helps him get through his busy workday. Just the thought of being allowed to get into subspace tonight makes him get through another meeting.

When you are in public, your roles are reversed in everyone else's eyes. Sukuna is the powerful CEO. The big, muscular hunk of a man in his designer suit who is in control at all times. The one with the smug smirk and the snide remarks. The one who effortlessly navigates through this business party and holds an immaculate speech before mingling with the crowd, where he charms new potential business partners into making a deal with him. And you are the sweet little wife on his arm who looks up at him and depends on her rich and dominant husband to take care of her.

They don't know the truth.

They don't know that you told Sukuna before the party that if he is a good boy tonight and manages to get that potential new business partner on his side, you will let him worship your pussy when you are home again.

Sukuna never expected how easy it would be, how natural it would feel to hand over control to you and let himself slip into subspace. How splendid it would feel to give himself fully to you.

He sighs when you bind his wrists with his tie, fixing them behind his back. He feels warm when you tell him to kneel for you. He is excited by the way you look at him when he is on the floor on his knees for you, with his muscular thighs spread, completely naked while you are still dressed. He loves to feel your gaze on his body, on his muscles, on his tattoos. He loves to see the love in your eyes.

Sukuna groans when your gaze lands on his cock, taking your time to look at him. It's so arousingly intimate. You have seen him naked so many times, have seen and touched his cock so often. But it is different when he is bound and kneeling before you. It makes him so hard that he feels dizzy. Pre-cum is running thickly down his hard length as your gaze inspects his cock and his taut full balls.

He moans when you get up from the bed and stand beside him, putting a hand in his pink hair and tugging on it gently, pulling his head against your hip, petting his hair, and cooing at him,

"My pretty boy."

Sukuna can't help but let out a sigh of relief and nuzzle his face gratefully against your hip. He feels exhilarated when you grab his hair and tug on it, smiling while you look at him and tell him,

"Open your mouth for me, my love."

He does so eagerly, opening up and sticking his tongue out while gazing up at you through his long black lashes. He is well-trained and proud of it. Sukuna has always been a fast learner, driven by his ambitious nature. A man used to working for his well-deserved success. Always striving to be the best. Of course, he had excelled in this task, too. In becoming the perfect submissive pet for you.

He can see the approval and adoration in your eyes, and it makes his heart feel so full. Especially when you praise him for his obedience.

"Such a good boy."

Your fingers caress his hair, making him moan lightly when your nails scratch over his undercut, but his mouth stays open, his tongue still sticking out, eyes fixed on your face, waiting for your command or for whatever you have planned for him tonight. Finally, he doesn't have to make decisions anymore. Finally, he can rest and give himself into your loving hands.

You slowly part your lips, which are painted with the beautiful, deep red lipstick he loves so much on you. His lashes flutter in anticipation. Your hand grabs his chin, gently tilting his head further upwards, and then you spit in his waiting mouth, letting your spit drool into his mouth slowly, showing him that from now on, you are the one in control.

"Now swallow it."

He does so, and your hand caresses his cheek lovingly.

"You are so good for me, Sukuna. You truly deserve your collar, baby."

His cock twitches needily when you put it on him, and he feels the smooth leather wrap around his throat. Your fingertips caress his neck lovingly for a moment before you pull away to let your hands slip under your skirt. Sukuna watches with a lust-filled gaze as you pull down your panties, the lacey red ones he gifted to you. You let them fall to the floor as you sit down on the bed, spreading your legs, letting Sukuna see your glistening wet cunt underneath your short skirt.

"You were such a good boy tonight at the party. It's time for your reward."

Sukuna moans softly when you fasten the leash on the golden ring on his collar and give it a firm tug, pulling him closer until he is kneeling between your spread legs.

Your pussy is right in front of his face, hot and dripping wet. So beautiful, so enticing. He can feel your warmth, can smell your sweet scent. He wants to push his face between your legs so badly. But he waits obediently like the good boy he wants to be. He waits for your command.

"Spoil my pussy, pretty boy. Make me cum on that pretty face of yours."

And Sukuna is happy to obey. He eats you out devotedly. He worships your pussy. Licks it, kisses it, sniffs it, loves it with tender kisses and sweet suckles on your swollen clit, and fucks it with his tongue until you gasp his name and cum on his face.

You reach down afterward to tease his cock. Edging him, running a teasing fingertip over his swollen mushroom head and pressing it against his slit. Giving him a few slow pumps only to pull away again. Circling his tip lovingly, swooping up a pearl of pre-cum, and bringing your finger to your lips to taste him, moaning and praising him for how sweet he tastes.

You coo praise at him for being so strong, for being so good for you, for holding back so long. Sukuna's head is spinning. He is drowning in the warmth of your love, in the sweet comfort of your control over him. His cock throbs heavily, so close to busting his load. But your voice drifts to his ears,

"Uh uh, not yet, my love. Not yet. Take your time, baby. You've been working so hard those last few days. I need you to let go fully before you are allowed to cum. Free yourself from everything. Let go of work and your busy schedule. You aren't the CEO of SHRINE here in this room. You are my pet. You are my good boy. I own you, and I decide everything for you. You don't have to think anymore, Sukuna. I will tell you when to cum. Give yourself to me."

And he nods, breathing heavily as his cock throbs with pleasure and need. It would be easy for a strong man like Sukuna to slip out of his restraints and manhandle you, throw you on the bed, and fuck you into the mattress until he is satisfied. That knowledge somehow makes this whole scenario even more arousing. Because he knows he won't give in to these urges. He will be a good boy. He will be strong. He will hold back as long as you want him to. He isn't the one who decides things here. He is yours completely.

You smile at him, and your gaze travels over his body again until it stops on his hard cock.

"Look at that gorgeous cock of yours. So long, so thick, so strong. And all mine."

When you join him on the floor, Sukuna is already a mess, sweating and moaning, cock twitching needily, his balls sticky from all the pre-cum that ran down his length.

You get on your knees and put your small hands on his muscular thighs, caressing them tenderly as you slowly lean closer to blow air onto Sukuna's swollen wet cockhead, making him groan loudly.

"Aww, so cute for me, hm my prince? Can you be my good boy and cum on command? Can you cum just from me looking at your pretty cock?"

Your words make a low growl fall from Sukuna's lips as his balls tighten and his cock twitches. He gulps and looks at you, maroon eyes burning into yours as he nods,

"Yes, please let me show you how good I can be for you."

You smile and moan softly, your eyes clouded over by lust, and it makes Sukuna's stomach flutter and his heart throb. More pre-cum is trickling down his hot length and runs over his taut balls before it drips onto the carpet underneath him. And your eyes are on his cock and his balls, following that small rivulet of pre.

Your voice is a tender caress,

"Such a sweet boy for me."

Sukuna's muscles are taut, biceps flexed, wrists straining against the tie, pecs, and abs taut, his thighs clenched. Your words drive him crazy. And the feeling of your eyes on him, on his cock, makes his head spin.

There is something so demeaning about kneeling here on the floor, bound and horny, being told to cum on command, being told to cum untouched like some pathetic little virgin who never fucked his load into a woman.

But oh, how he loves it. How it gives him peace. How it turns him on. Sukuna can't help but roll his hips as if fucking into your tight cunt, rutting his cock against nothing, as a shaky moan falls from his lips.

Your hand cups his cheek and caresses it lovingly before it wanders down over his flexed pecs and biceps.

"You are so beautiful. Look at that pretty cock. Look how much you're leaking all over yourself."

His gaze travels down to his cock, and he groans loudly, seeing his angry dark pink, swollen cockhead, messy from all the precum. He feels and sees his cock twitch at the attention, so aroused that you are looking at him. And he feels his balls tightening, feels his thighs spread even more, and he knows he is close, so fucking close.

It's your voice that sends him over the edge,

"Now show me, baby. Show me how that pretty cock cums for me. Make a big mess all over yourself, Kuna. Cum for me. Now."

White hot lights fill his vision as he feels himself cum, cock twitching and shooting his hot cum all over himself in messy white ropes.

The sounds coming out of his mouth are sounds Sukuna would never let anyone else hear. Desperate whimpers and needy mewls, a shaky sob when his cock throbs and shoots another spurt of hot cum all over the carpet and his thighs.

You talk him through it, coo at him, praise him for being such a good boy, telling him how pretty he looks and how pretty his cock is when it shoots cum everywhere. How cute he is when he makes such a mess for you.

And Sukuna's head is spinning. He shoots his whole orgasm all over himself until his spent cock just twitches, but no cum comes out anymore.

He still moans when you make him clean it up, swooping up his cum from his abs and chest and feeding it to him from your fingers. And more moans fall from Sukuna's lips when you tug on his leash to make him lean down and lick his milky cum off the floor. He does so obediently, and when you tell him to open his mouth and stick his tongue out to show you that he really was a good boy and swallowed it all, he can't help but smile proudly.

He is happy, so happy when you praise him and when you take the tie of his wrists and hug him lovingly, praising him for being so good for you.

He feels pride surge through him, filling his every pore. Sukuna is a proud man through and through in all aspects of his life. Confident and self-assured, even arrogant most of the time. But nothing fills him with so much pride as this. Cumming untouched at your command.

This is his biggest accomplishment today. Not that he succeeded in snatching a lucrative business deal from the white-haired Gojo brat. Not that he poached one of the Zenin Group's most important partners. No, his biggest accomplishment today was that he was a good boy for you. The thing Sukuna is the most proud of is cumming exactly how you told him to.

He smiles proudly as he looks up at you. You smile back at him and run a hand through his hair, cocking your head and asking in a voice full of love,

"What do good boys say?"

And Sukuna's smile grows even bigger, and he says loud and clear in his smooth, velvety voice,

"Thank you."

His heart feels so full when you nod, and your eyes fill with pride. You pet him and lean down to kiss him on the lips. Lovingly and tender, showering him with affection.

Sukuna thinks no one in his small circle of people he considers his friends truly knows him. Not even Uraume, who has been his assistant for many years.

No one but you.

You know him. You know what he needs. You know what he needs on the days he comes home with a victorious glint in his eyes. You know what he needs when he comes home tired and stressed. And you also know what he needs when he comes home in a grumpy mood, complaining about work and all the incompetent fools he has to deal with all day.

"What's with that attitude, Sukuna? I think I have to put you in your place again."

Yes, you know exactly what he needs. He told you he wants you to be rougher with him whenever he is in one of those foul moods. That he wants you to rein him in on those days. Because you are the only person who can do that.

Your words instantly shut him up, and he feels himself already slipping into his submissive role as he smirks at you across the table and tells you in his low, velvety voice,

"I would be delighted if you showed me my place, my love."

Soon, his smirk is replaced by soft groans as Sukuna writhes on the bed.

Finally, he is free. He doesn't have to think but can only feel. He can let himself fall into this delicious mix of pain and pleasure, and you catch him with your love.

He is used to being in control. He is used to being a powerful man in his everyday work life. He is used to being a King, so to speak. But not here, not in your bedroom during a scene. Here you reign. Here you are, his Queen, and he is the obedient prince. A beloved, pretty pet.

You trail the leather paddle slowly over his skin. Just a teasing touch, a light caress, tracing his firm muscles while you admire his tall, muscular body spread out for you. Sukuna is breathing heavily, arousal and excited anticipation filling his veins. His cock is rock hard, trapped under his heavy body, pressing against the silky sensation of the bedsheets. Every inch of his skin is highly sensitive right now.

He knows the sweet pain will come any moment now. It makes him heady with lust. You have reached the top of his back, slowly trailing the paddle over his neck and the stubble of his undercut before you pull it away.

A loud, needy groan falls from Sukuna's lips at the same time that the loud slapping sound of the leather paddle connecting firmly with his ass cheeks fills the room.

Finally, he is falling. Finally, he is slipping into the sweet, delirious comfort of subspace. Bound to the bed, spread out for you, this tall, muscular man so utterly at your mercy. It is everything Sukuna needs.

Another firm slap lands on his ass, and Sukuna moans into the pillow. It's a feral sound, low and primal. He promised you to not hold back during your scenes, and he found that it's freeing to let it all out and be loud in bed and let you hear his unrestrained lust.

And your praise makes it even better. A soft hand lands on his firm ass cheek where you just spanked him a moment ago. Such a tender, soothing touch in stark contrast to the hard slap and the sting of the paddle. You caress his ass tenderly while you whisper to him,

"You are my good boy, Kuna. Doing so well for me. Are you ready for the next round? I'll do five this time. Do you think you can take it, baby?"

He nods,

"Yes, please. I'm ready. Please give me more."

It was never as easy and natural for him to beg as here in your bed.

Sukuna takes the spanking like the good boy that he is. He moans and growls and begs for more. And you spank him to an orgasm that makes him almost black out. With his buff muscles tensing up, his toned arms pulling at the restraints as his strong body shakes and trembles, his cock twitching beneath him, soaking the bed sheets with his hot cum, while he sobs into the pillow, a mix of your name and breathless thank yous.

You give him time before you untie him and tell him to turn on his back, joining him on the bed to spoil his cock with slow, thorough strokes until he is hard again and moaning and twitching. You finally straddle his lap and sink down on his throbbing length, riding him until you scream his name and cum on him with your warm cream gushing over him, pushing Sukuna over the edge, too, letting him fill your sweet cunt with his cum as a reward for being so good for you.

It's the end of a particularly stressful week, and Sukuna finds himself unable to relax. The book he wanted to read lies forgotten on the leather couch. He couldn't focus on the words. The hot bath he took didn't help him relax his tense muscles.

But then he hears the sound of the elevator followed by your footsteps as you walk into the penthouse, and he feels his skin tingle.

He is by your side only seconds later, wrapping his arms around you from behind, greeting you with a loving kiss on the neck and a murmured,

"I missed you, darling."

He has been looking forward to this Saturday evening. Has been craving it, knowing what he will get tonight because he worked so hard this week.

"Is my sweet prince ready to get all the stress fucked out of him?"

It's the ultimate level of submission in Sukuna's eyes. And the ultimate comfort.

Yes, Sukuna can be sweet. Yes, he can be submissive. Yes, he can be a good boy. And he proves it to you right there on the bed in a position that is so vulnerable but so freeing.

His face is resting on the dark red silk pillow, his thick muscular thighs are spread, exposing himself to you fully.

His cock is swollen, throbbing hard, pre-cum oozing needily out of his slit and running down his veiny length and into the silk sheets. His balls almost ache from how taut they are. Anytime you are about to peg him, he is so hard that he thinks he will faint.

But the feeling of the leather collar around his neck grounds him and gives him reassurance.

Sukuna groans softly when your hands trail slowly over his muscular back, caressing him, massaging his tense muscles, your voice so sweet and soothing while your lips trail kisses down his back,

"You are doing so well for me, baby. So beautiful."

Your praise makes his cock twitch, and a low groan spills from his lips. You finger him open, taking your sweet time with him, lubing his tight hole up thoroughly, gradually adding more fingers, and leaving gentle kisses on his back. Cooing at him when your fingertips rub against his prostate and needy moans fall from Sukuna's lips.

You pull away, but only to straddle the back of his thighs, leaning down over him to tease him with the slicked-up tip of the strap you are wearing. Rubbing lightly against Sukuna's lubed-up hole, driving him crazy, making him moan and whimper, sounds that he usually would never make. Your warm breath caresses his neck, and your lips brush tenderly over his skin,

"Are you ready for me, baby? Can my prince take my cock?"

His hole clenches at your words, his hips buck.

"Yes, please fuck me."

Sukuna almost can't take it anymore, head spinning from lust, sobs escaping his lips as he forces himself to hold back and not take but only receive as you keep teasing his lubed-up entrance with the tip of your strap, slowly stretching him open around the thick tip.

He gasps loudly when you push the dildo into him fully, his ass twitching around it, even as Sukuna's gasp turns into a hoarse groan.

"So cute. Such a good boy for me."

You sound breathless too, and a moment later, you roll your hips into him, beginning with a slow but deep pace, fucking Sukuna with deep strokes that make both of you moan.

Soon, the pace becomes faster and harder, the tip of the dildo hitting Sukuna's sensitive prostate unrelentingly, making him see stars.

A wild, loud moan falls from his lips, uncontrolled, desperate, full of lust and pain and raw need.

He needs this today. This was a stressful week. He needs to get fucked rough. Needs to get dicked down hard. Needs to get wrecked.

And you give him everything he needs. You fuck him with punishing hard thrusts, torturing his prostate with your thick strap, making Sukuna's body tremble beneath you, making him sob and whine into the pillow, the pillowcase wet from his spit and even some tears.

Instinctively, he begins to rut against the mattress, grinding his leaking cock needily against it. But a firm slap lands on his right ass cheek.

"Stop that. Good boys don't need their cocks rubbed. And you are a good boy, Sukuna, aren't you? You are my very, very good boy, right baby? A good boy like you cums just from my strap, right?"

He nods wildly, sobbing as he answers you, his voice almost unrecognizable, higher than usual, full of tears and raw need,

"Y.. yes! Yes, I am your good boy! Please, please...let me cum on your cock! I won't disobey!"

You moan softly at his plea. Your warm hands run up his muscular back, caressing him, every touch making his cock throb. And you go slow, so slow, pulling the dildo out of him almost completely, making Sukuna whine loudly. But he instantly shuts up when you tug on his leash. He grits his teeth and forces himself to stay still, giving himself to you, waiting for you patiently.

Anything to be a good boy for you. Not demanding anything, not taking anything. That isn't his place, and he knows it. He is here to receive. To give himself to you completely. He forces himself to calm his breathing, relaxing his flexed muscles, and you reward him with a whispered,

"Aww, yes, just like that, baby. So good for me. I trained you so well, hm? Now take it, baby."

And you roll your hips into him, pushing the thick dildo back all the way into Sukuna's tight ass, making him moan, loud and broken, as his strong body shudders under you.

You laugh softly and grind your hips against him, rotating them slowly, rubbing the dildo against his prostate, sending shock wave after shock wave of bliss through him. And Sukuna cries out, unable to hold back. But no words are leaving his lips. At this point, he is unable to form them, only loud, unintelligible, needy cries and whiny moans.

He knows he won't last long now, can already feel the familiar tightening in his heavy balls, can feel the pressure inside him build almost unbearably. His muscles flex again, and you moan his name, full of love, followed by the command he needed to hear so badly,

"Aww, yes, Kuna. You're so good for me. You can cum on my cock now, baby."

And he does. Crying out loudly, a wet, unrestrained, desperate sound full of tears of bliss. His ass clenches hard around your strap, his strong body shuddering from wave after wave of a world-shattering prostate orgasm ripping through him. His cock pulses copious amounts of hot sticky seed onto the already stained sheets. Testament to the bliss he found here.

You lean down to kiss his neck gently, trailing tender kisses all over his broad back, fucking him slowly through his orgasm, moaning when you cum on the strap, too, just a few seconds later.

Sukuna closes his eyes and feels some hot tears slip out of the corners of his eyes as you snuggle against him, resting on his broad back, the dildo still buried deeply inside him, and you caress him, cuddle him, and whisper sweet praise to him, telling him how much you love him. And he knows he is in heaven here with you. No matter how stressful his life as a CEO is, he can endure it because he can come home to you and let you take care of him.

To everyone else, Sukuna is the feared alpha male. But to you, he is your good boy, and that's a fact that can get him through any workday.

He will continue to expand his business empire. He will acquire new business partners. He will go to countless meetings and negotiate contract after contract. Sukuna will work hard to make his company the best in the whole country.

But only if he knows he can be on his knees for you every night with the leather collar around his neck and your fingers petting his hair while you call him your good boy. Only when every Saturday he is allowed to cum on your strap.

His success is just as much your success. Because without you, Sukuna couldn't be the man he needs to be.

This was the first time I wrote submissive Sukuna, and it was so much fun!! IT WAS SO EXHILARATING TO WRITE THIS FIC!! Thank you so much to the sweet anon who sent me the ask about my thoughts on sub!Sukuna. He is SUCH a good boy ;) I want to hear him whimper and sob so bad!!

Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed it.

Comments and reblogs would be very sweet.

#sukuna x reader #sukuna #ryomen sukuna #sukuna smut #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk x you #sukuna x you #sukuna x y/n #jjk x y/n

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thealtoduck · 6 months

Text

Sweet Juice

Clark Kent x Male Reader

Content: Greek Mythology AU

Warnings: Smut, Bottom!Reader, Top!Clark, semi-public sex, anal sex, unprotected sex, drunken sex, skinny dipping, spit as lube, missionary position…

Summary: You’re a member of Dionysus following and during a feast you meet a demigod son of Zeus, Clark, also known as the man of steel…

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You were a lesser deity in a world filled with powerful gods, monsters and heroes. You were the son of the now famous naiad, Daphne. Unfortunately though your mother was no longer with you as she had been turned in to a laurel tree as a form of mercy.

It was considered mercy because the only other option she had was to be violated by Apollo, who was under the spell of Eros after an argument between the two. Apollo feeling bad about the whole ordeal apologised by finding you a place in the retinue of Dionysus and Ariadne.

You didn’t mind this as your duties were pretty much drink, dance, fuck, drink more and generally just to have a good time. It was just constant partying and celebration.

One night when the party had yet to start a visitor came for Dionysus. You were sat close to the god’s throne, you were petting one of his pet leopards when a strange man appeared and entered the god’s camp. He walked slowly towards the olympian. You noted his handsome appearance as he stopped in front of Dionysus.

”Lord Dionysus, you sent for me” the man said in a deep tone. ”I did” Dionysus confirmed before standing up saying loudly ”Everyone! Let me introduce to you to Clark, you may know him as the man of steel!… And also one of my younger half brothers”.

Dionysus followers broke out in cheers for the hero, who seemed slightly confused by the big welcoming. ”I’ve called him here to save us all from the cyclops that has been attacking in the night” Dionysus declared and everyone once again cheered.

”What?! You never told me of any cyclops?!” Clark asked agitated. ”Actually I didn’t tell you anything but you showed up anyway” Dionysus teased him. ”Why don’t you save them yourself?” Clark questioned. However Dionysus only responded with a simple ”Where’s the fun in that?”.

Clark looked irretated at Dionysus and said ”I will not be tricked in to fighting someone else’s battle”. Making the on looking crowd let out disappointed murmurs. Dionysus walked up to the hero and put a hand on his shoulder.

”Come on Clark, do us this favour and we’ll give you the biggest celebration you’ll experince in a life time, with the finest wine and feast, our best music and dancers and if you want you can take to bed anyone you fancy, we don’t judge” Dionysus offered.

Clark took a moment looking around at the crowd surrounding him until his eyes landed on you for a swift moment. He then turned back to Dionysus and said ”Very well, i shall do you this favour”. Once again the crowd including you broke out in cheers and applause for the demigod.

The very next day gifted Clark with a sword, armour and food by Dionysus as he and his followers saw off the hero on his way to save them from the threat of the cyclops.

I didn’t take long for Clark to return as he was back at the camp by next day. He came back in the afternoon covered from head to toe in dirt, dust and a little cyclops blood. Throwing the red painted sword by Dionysus feet.

”Well done” Dionysus complimented looking at the blood drenched sword. Dionysus then turned towards you ”Y/n, take our hero somewhere he can wash off” he commanded. ”Yes, lord Dionysus” you said with a quick bow. He then turned back to Clark and said ”When you return, we feast”.

You went and collected a basket with a bottle of scented oil, a strigil (a tool they used in ancient greece to wash themselves) and a new chiton. ”This way, my lord” you said to Clark and started guiding him through the forest. ”Please, just Clark is fine” he said humbly following you.

You guided him to a secluded pond. ”Impressive, how did you find this place so quickly?” Clark complimented. ”My mother was a naiad, it’s an instinct” you explained putting down the basket next to the pond.

”Would you like me to bring you anything else?” you asked Clark as he started undressing out of the dented armour and dirty chiton. ”You’ve already done enough for me, thank you” he said gentlemanly. Clark was now naked, revealing his muscled body and impressive manhood, which you tried not to look at.

He stepped down in the pond, the water reaching up to his hips. ”Why don’t you join me?” he suggested gesturing towards the water. ”I’d love too, but i have to help the others prepare everything for tonight” you said. ”Come on, only for a short time” Clark tempted. ”Okay” you said with a smile, taking off your chiton and sandals.

Clark watched your naked form with interest as you stepped down in to the water. ”See, it’s nice” Clark said starting to wash himself off using the scented oil you brought for him. You tried not to stare at his oiled up chest but you were 90% sure he caught you looking but he didn’t say anything, he only smirked.

You relaxed in the cool water for a while until you remembered you needed to get back to the others. You climbed out of the pond and started putting on your clothing once again. ”Thanks for the company, hope i’ll see you tonight” Clark said. ”Hope, i’ll see you too” you said and started walking through the forest back towards camp.

That night the music rang loudly through the forest as you celebrated the death of cyclops and your new hero, Clark. You drank and danced wildly with your friends. Some others were already passed out from drinking, some were gambling and playing games and one couple were fucking against a tree.

You saw Clark sitting on a pillow next to Dionysus talking, goblet in hand. You made your way over to the olympian and the demigod. ”Y/n” Dionysus exclaimed happily as he noted your presence. He patted a pillow next to him saying ”Come sit down”.

You took the offer sitting down next to the god, he made your empty goblet instantly refill and put an arm around you. ”I was just telling Clark of my inner circle” Dionysus revealed and continued ”Y/n, here you’ve met, he is my and Ariandne’s favourite attendant and friend” he said sweetly.

”Also he has a body as if sculpted by Pygmalion, carved and smoothed to absolute perfection. You should hope to have a look upon it someday” Dionysus said taking another sip from his goblet.

”Actually i already have” Clark stated boldly making Dionysus spill some wine on himself. ”Y/n, joined me for a swim in the pond” Clark explained making your cheeks heat up slightly. ”Is that so?” Dionysus questioned looking towards you.

”Well, i’ve got to go find Ariadne” Dionysus said getting up leaving you and Clark. ”Are you and Dionysus-?” Clark started but you cut him off saying ”No, he and Ariadne just have a very open relationship”. ”How has your night been?” you then questioned the hero.

”Enjoyable but i’ve never been much of a party person” he said then taking a sip from his cup. ”I get it, before i came here i wasn’t either” you told him and then got an idea. ”Wanna go for a walk for some peace and quiet?” you asked. ”Sure, i’d love too” Clark said and the two of you stood up and walked off in to the forest behind you bringing your goblets with you.

You walked and talked for a while, drinking until your goblets were didn’t have a single drop left in them. Dionysus must’ve brought out the strong stuff because you and Clark were stumbling around and slurring your speech, you were laughing loudly at each others stories, sitting very close together.

Finally the two of you ended up behind some bushes close by to the party. You started to passionately make out, you laying on your back in the soft grass and Clark on top of you. Clark tore open your chiton and undressed you, leaving your naked form beneath him.

He then took off his own clothes revealing his muscular body and his hard cock. Clark took his hand and brought it to your mouth, you sucked on his fingers to get them wet, then he brought his moist fingers to your enterance and started pushing finger inside you.

You let out a small gasp as Clark started to finger you open, he added another fiinger and then another until you were ready to take him. Clark spit in to his hand and rubbed it over his erect manhood.

”It’s time i claim my reward” Clark said spreading your legs, he lined himself up with you and started pushing his hard cock in to your warmth. Clark loved the seeing the face you made as his cock slowly filled you up.

”Fuck your so big” you hissed as the demigod was fully sheated deep inside you. He then slowy started moving pushing himself in and out of you as a wave of pleasure started washing over you.

Your legs were wrapped around Clark as he thrusted in to you. ”I’m gonna fuck your little nymph hole full with my seed” Clark groaned in to your ear and placed kisses all along your neck. The demigod started speeding up his thrusts.

”Clark, fuck yeah! Take me” you said in ecstasy grabbing at his back as he fucked your hole. Both of your bodies had started gleaming from sweat as he mounted you under the moonlight, as his reward for defeating the cyclops.

Clark’s thrusts became rougher as he wanted to take you like a real demigod would, he loved how your walls clenched around his thick cock. He brutally fucked you with all the strength of his godly heritage to bring you to your release.

You let out breathy moans as Clark pounded your gaping hole, thrusting against your prostate. You felt yourself getting close to your orgasm. You dug your nails in to the grass below as Clark’s cock made you see Mount Olympus.

”Clark, i’m gonna cum” you said panting heavily making Clark thrust deeper as he wanted to push you over the edge. Then your cock started spraying cum all over your and Clark’s stomachs. Clark’s own release was getting close.

”I’m gonna plant my seed deep inside you” Clark moaned and his rough thrusts became uneven and sloppy. Clark delivered one last deep stroke in to you and he erupted inside you, he flooding your insides with his cum.

Both of you panted heavily and Clark rolled over and layed next to you in the grass. ”You were amazing” Clark praised while softly stroking your cheek. The two of you then used your torn clothes as blankets as you cuddled close together and you both fell asleep under the starry sky.

#clark kent x male reader #clark kent x male!reader #superman x male reader #superman x male!reader #dc comics x male reader #dc x male reader #x male reader #male reader #x male!reader #justice league x male reader #clark kent x male reader smut #male reader smut #x male reader smut

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saetoru · 2 years

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#𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋, 𝐘𝐎𝐔’𝐑𝐄 𝐒𝐔𝐂𝐇 𝐀 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐁𝐁𝐄𝐑

☰ SYNOPSIS ⋮ gojo satoru has ruined your best friend’s life—and you’re about to make it a whole lot worse yourself ; part 2 here

— pairing ⋮ gojo satoru x reader

— length ⋮ 2.1k words

— contents ⋮ nsfw and 18+ content, fem! reader, mentions of betrayal (gojo is your best friend’s ex and you fuck him), (slight) mutual pining, toxic! gojo, lovesick! gojo, (slightly) mean! gojo, car sex, light choking, edging, unprotected sex, praise, creampie

— notes ⋮ this is for my soulmate @bxnten 's burn book collab <3 we r mean girls to everyone but each other hehe ily kitty cat <33

gojo satoru is a sleazy, backstabbing, knife-twisting, and heartbreaking asshole. he has little regard for others, doesn’t bother to ponder the weight of his actions, acts as though the world revolves around him, and you’re sick of him—or so you tell yourself.

he’s made your friend’s life hell, really. he’s made her cry, made her question her worth, made her sacrifice things she shouldn’t have to, made her so unhappy, that you can’t help but wish you could punch him in his (perfect) teeth. you tell yourself you’re sick of picking up phone calls that turn into hours worth of tearful rants, and you tell yourself you’re sick of being haunted by his cocky smirk as he shoots you a wink in the back of your mind. it’s how any good friend would feel—any good friend would look at him and wish he’d drop dead on the spot for all the times he’s fucked up.

but you suppose you’re not half as good of a friend as you once thought you were—maybe you’re not as fiercely loyal as you gave yourself credit for. because what kind of friend would be sprawled on the backseat of the ex’s car that they’re supposed to hate? what kind of a friend would cling desperately to the same man they’ve said probably has a small dick anyway, drunk on the drag of his cock? what kind of friend would ever think about getting with their friend’s ex—let alone actually do it?

you, apparently.

“that feel good, sweetheart?” he chuckles, hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing lightly. your head spins at the cut-off of oxygen, a shaky gasp falling off your lips as your stare up at him. gojo chuckles, loosening his grip, kissing away the stray tears on your cheek as you whimper at the shallow thrust of his hips. “you like when i do this, huh? like when i fuck you like this? bet you like me, don’t you?” he grins cheekily.

he’s an asshole.

a horrible, heartless, selfish, insensitive, and self-absorbed asshole. but his cock drags along your walls so good, the stretch making your mind fog and your back arch until your chests meet, your nipples brushing against his through the fabric and making you both groan.

“act like you hate me so bad, but i bet you were just mad, huh? are you mad i didn’t pick you first, is that it?” he pouts, squeezing your cheeks together and leaving you with no choice but to look at him as he presses his forehead to yours.

but you’re stubborn, you have been since you first met. you refuse to shake his hand when he first offers it, refuse to be on civil terms when he third wheels hangouts, and refuse to apologize first after any arguments that might stir. and you’re stubborn now too, closing your eyes to have some level of power of your own against him—but he only chuckles, bringing his hips to a stop and gritting his teeth as he feels the burn of his orgasm die down.

you whine, buck your hips, and open your eyes as you stare at him confused, “what the fuck? why’d you—”

“asked you a question, sweetheart,” he sneers, hand finding its way down to your clit, rubbing slow, agonizing circles that have you whining as your head tosses back.

“p-please, gojo—need it—”

“uh uh,” he drawls, that annoying, infuriating, and sickeningly smug little smile on his face as he looks down at you, “you gotta answer my question. then i’ll give you what you want,” he pats your cheek. “you wish i picked you, don’t you baby?”

“no,” you spit, glaring at him harshly, “you’re a fucking asshole. you don’t care about anyone’s feelings but your own, and you couldn’t love someone if your life depended on it. fucking dickhead—” you cut yourself off with a squeal when his fat tip slams into you all of a sudden, right against your spot, making your arms wrap tightly around his neck as your legs hook around his waist.

you’re clinging to him desperately by now, sobbing with every harsh roll of his hips, crying out every time his navel bumps along your clit and pulls you closer and closer to your orgasm. gojo’s jaw is clenched, his hands gripping your hips so tight, you almost think there’ll be bruises by the time he’s done. your slick and his pre cum leaves a messy ring at the base of his dick and a trail down the inner sides of your thighs, and maybe if he wasn’t so angry, he’d have made a cheeky comment about how wet you are.

“oh yeah, is that right? i don’t care about feelings? i can’t love someone?” he laughs, but there’s not a trace of amusement in his tone—it’s so condescending, so mean, you have to fight back tears. “you’re the best friend. i’m just an ex. wait till she finds out just how much you care,” he spits, venom lacing his tone as you gasp, shaky and just a little scared. it satisfies him maybe a tad bit too much. “i bet she’ll be thrilled to hear how lost on my cock you get, always beggin’ for more—aren’t you just a greedy little thing?”

“n-no,” you gasp, clutching onto his shirt tightly, fighting the wobble of your lips at the thought. “you can’t. you can’t! please, gojo, you can’t tell her, sh-she…she’ll never speak to me again a-and—”

“aw, don’t cry sweetheart,” he laughs, and his hips are slamming into your abused cunt mercilessly now, making your walls flutter around him as he lets out a low grunt, moaning against your ear—and he sounds so pretty, so sweet and divine and perfect, it makes your skin prickle with goosebumps.

you almost understand why it took your friend as long as it did to finally leave him.

“please, gojo,” you sniffle, teary eyes staring up at him pleadingly. it makes his heart jump, makes his heart ache a little deep in his chest.

because you’re wrong. he isn’t always an asshole, and he does care sometimes—in fact, he always cares when it’s about you. gojo satoru thinks he’d let the sun bleed out if he had to, as long as he has your smile to brighten his days for as long as he lives. because you’re wrong, he can love—and he loves you desperately.

he never wanted to fall in love with his girlfriend’s best friend. never wanted to be a shallow man with even shallower intentions, but who could hear your laugh and see your smile and not fall head over heels? it makes him mad—hurts deep in his chest and aches so bad, that he thinks you’re almost bad for his health. you don’t bat an eyelash at him, don’t even wanna be around him for longer than you have to be—and yet, he wants you by his side for longer than eternity. he can’t help but wish he met you first, can’t help but hate the universe for being so cruel, so heartless for making him find the one person he wants more than anything like this.

he wants you badly, and the worst part is even if you want him too, you’d never let yourself indulge in something as retched as a betrayal—even if technically, you already have the second his cock sank into you.

so he presses a gentle kiss between your brows, leaves a trail of kisses along your cheek and jaw, and he hovers over your lips. “i won’t tell,” he mumbles against them, making your breath hitch in shock, “won't say a word if you call me toru, yeah? jus’ say toru, just once, yeah? i gotta hear it.”

“promise?” you sniffle, “you promise you won’t tell?”

“promise,” he agrees with a nod, and he even holds out a pinky to seal the deal. a soft grin spreads across his lips when your own pinky hooks around his, the warmth of your touch, as small as it might be, lighting him up until he feels like his chest is pressed with the weight of the sun.

“kay,” you mumble, “need more, toru—please, gimme more,” you beg, and his name tastes so sweet rolling off your tongue, so saccharine it almost feels like it’s dripped with honey, trickling past your lips and rolling down your chin for him to kiss off. it makes your head spin that you never want to say gojo again now that you’ve gotten a taste of toru.

with a shaky exhale against your mouth at the sound of his name, he pulls you into a hungry kiss, desperate and needy and just a little starved. his cock is aching by now, throbbing in your dripping core, balls heavy and ready to release as he rolls his hips faster into you. his skin slaps against yours, the slick sound of his cock bullying into your wet cunt filling the small space of his car, his body towering over you in the cramped back seat. he lets his hand find the soft flesh of the back of your thigh, hoisting your leg over his shoulder as he angles himself deeper into you, letting out a strangled cry when your walls flutter around him tightly.

“fuck, that’s it—g-gonna be the death o’ me, sweetheart,” he grunts, “so good, takin’ me so well, yeah? so fuckin’ tight,” he rasps. his thumb finds your clit once more, rubbing harsh circles and watching entranced as tears spill past your lash line, staining your cheeks with a soft, wet glisten that makes his heart squeeze and his chest tighten. “god, you’re so perfect, so pretty. my pretty girl,” he coos, “my. pretty. girl,” each word is followed by a sharp thrust, and the slam of his tip against your sweet spot, and the way he sounds so possessive as he claims you as his makes your back arch and your nails dig into his skin through his shirt.

“toru, toru, ‘m close—please, ‘m so close—”

“i know, baby,” he pants, moaning into your neck as his head buries into the small space, breath fanning against your skin and making you shiver. “‘m close too, gonna cum—fuck, you’re gonna make me cum,” he whines.

“fuck—toru, toru, ‘m…‘m cumming,” you scream, your orgasm crashing over your body, making your arms wrap around him tightly as you cling to him and sob. your walls spasm around him erratically, the sound of your mewls as you cry his name pushing him into his own release.

his head digs into your shoulder, his body trembling over yours as he lets his hips slam into you sloppily, thick ribbons of cum painting your walls white as you feel his cock twitch with every rope.

“oh fuck, baby, that’s it—sh-shit, feels so good,” he pants, “g-god you’re somethin’ else, should’ve…should’ve picked you. it should’ve been you—god, i love you,” he babbles into your skin, too overwhelmed by the pleasure burning through his spine as he fucks you both through your highs to even realize the words he’s admitted or the way you stiffen in his arms.

he pulls out and stares at the mess between your legs for a moment, watching as his cum drips down your legs in thick streams. a small bit of pride bubbles up in his chest at the sight before he slumps his body over yours, head digging back into your neck and his lips pressing a soft kiss to your skin.

“we can’t keep doing this,” you mumble, but your hand still finds its way to his hair, stroking through the strands gently. it feels right, like this is how it was always supposed to be—like this is how it should be.

your words make his arms tighten around you, and gojo presses more weight against your body—like the more he presses into you, the longer he can spend in your arms.

“sure we can,” he says stubbornly, “i promised i won’t tell,” he insists, voice lilting into what you think is borderline desperate—desperate to keep you here, where you’re his, where it doesn’t matter if he found you first or if he found you last.

he found you, and that’s all he needs.

“but—”

“i won’t tell if you don’t,” he pleads, “you’re still mine, baby.”

and there’s a buzzing of your phone from the front seat, but you ignore it, letting your arms wrap tighter around his figure as you kiss the side of his head—and for a second, as bad of a friend as it might cause you to be, you think what someone doesn't know can’t possibly hurt them.

even if it makes you a backstabber.

#teepods.writings #thirstee!#fics.#gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo smut #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru smut #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut

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dandylovesturtles · 6 months

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Sidelined AU Info Post

Alright, I guess we're doing this

CWs: mentions of internalized ableism, struggles with mental health

Timeline:

all of S1 is the same as in canon up until End Game

however, after Splinter turns over the helmet to Draxum, Draxum does not put on the armor, but chooses to put Leo inside instead, realizing that whoever goes in will probably have something horrible happen to them. that's detailed in this fic

unlike Draxum, who gets spit out of the armor immediately, Leo ends up trapped inside. from Leo's perspective, he is only vaguely aware of what's happening outside (it's a bit sunken place-ish, with him seeing snatches of events like through a grainy television), and he has only small amounts of influence over what the armor does

once Feral Shredder is on the loose, he pretty immediately starts destroying the Hidden City. Draxum realizes that he has inadvertently released a great evil on his people, the exact opposite of what he wanted, and he turns to the Hamatos to help him stop it. obviously they don't want to work with Draxum, but they have to get Leo back so they take the help

it takes them two days, during which the Shredder moves up to start terrorizing New York as well, but eventually they get him subdued. I'm not 100% on what goes down yet or whether Big Mama gets involved (I'm leaning toward not), but Leo fighting from the inside is a big help

Leo is removed from the armor and is in really bad physical shape; meanwhile the Shredder is subdued for now. in the immediate aftermath, the Foot Clan manages to get ahold of the Shredder and take off with him

he's too weak to do anything immediately but he is very much a Looming Threat the family is aware of

Draxum leaves for awhile at this point because none of them want him around and seeing Leo in the aftermath did wake him up to "oh yeah that's just a kid and I did that to him," also he's feeling real bad about that whole "accidentally almost destroying the yokai and also maybe the world" thing

meanwhile, Leo is severely weakened, but there's not anything that the family can do to hasten his recovery. they can only get him hooked up to an IV for fluids and nutrients and wait

it takes Leo a few days to become fully lucid again; during that time he tries to fight anyone around him off or sometimes pushes his family away to "protect" them

eventually Leo does regain lucidity, he tells everyone he's fine but he's Super Depressed. he's also lost his mystic powers completely.

Splinter also retreats a bit at this point, because he feels guilt for handing the helmet over to Draxum instead of trying to find a different way to rescue his boys, which isn't a great thing for him to do but his mental health is also not doing very well (someone get these guys some therapy)

in the meantime the bros and April manage the best they can, they all have different approaches but I'll go into detail about that in the next section

there's no treatment for Leo's condition outside the most boring one: time, exercise, and diet. unsurprisingly he hates this

Healing Bad Times abound, as shown in this fic

eventually the boys have to go out on a mission again. Leo, feeling useless, listens in on the comms from the lair, and ends up catching something the other boys' missed, meaning he's able to save them from a trap or something idk exactly what the point is he makes himself useful

this opens up a new path for Leo, one his brothers very heavily encourage

with a new goal in mind, Leo starts taking a lot better care of himself, actually following his physical therapy routine, spending time gaining new skills, and accepting help in the form of mobility aids. his physical and mental health both start making big improvements

this also helps his dad's mental health, everyone is doing better even if things aren't perfect

Donnie builds Leo a command center modeled after the bridge of Jupiter Jim's ship, he absolutely loves it. whenever the boys+April are on missions, Leo is in his command center helping from the background

eventually Leo has gotten to the point where he has enough strength for day to day life most of the time, he still isn't fighting baddies on rooftops but he can get to a store and back without collapsing on a good day and that's pretty good!

the Foot Clan has been a much bigger threat in this version of S2 and it's clear they're up to something big

of course right when Leo is starting to feel stable and happy again, that's when they launch their final attack

a lot of the finale events go down similarly to how they do in canon, minus Battle Nexus New York. they get Karai back but then she dies, Shredder destroys their home (including Leo's command center :c ), everything is Bad

Leo gets his mystic powers back the same way his brothers do, though he needs a little bit of an extra helping nudge from April/Karai, since he didn't think that was a thing he could still do

everyone getting their mystic powers is emotional but it's especially emotional for Leo. he didn't even know what ninpo was before today, but he knew after the Shredder it was like some part of his soul got locked away, and now that he can feel it again he finally feels whole

it gives him a burst of adrenaline so he can participate in the fight, though he doesn't do much of the actual battling, instead getting his bros where they need to be for the big hits (I mean this is basically what he does anyway haha)

it takes Donnie exactly .02 seconds to figure out how to use his own mystic powers to support Leo physically so that helps

after this, Leo becomes a more constant part of the team in the field, though he still primarily works as support and only gets into direct fights when he feels like he has to

instead of being made leader like in canon, Leo and Raph become co-leaders. Leo's own leadership abilities have improved massively, but Raph has more experience in the field, so having the two of them working together means they cover each other's blind spots, and the division of labor is less stressful for both of them

since Leo's already been through his character development and this tension is gone the movie events play out totally differently but I haven't gotten that far yet lol. I'm sure the apocalypse still happens somehow, though, I'd hate to lose Casey Jr

happy ending whooo

Relationships

Raph

Raph feels a lot of guilt about what happened to Leo; he was supposed to protect his little brothers and he didn't, and now one of them has permanent physical disabilities as a result. add to that it was Raph's idea to be heroes in the first place and yeah... he's not doing great

because of this guilt, Raph's instinct is to essentially baby Leo - he wants to take care of his every need as soon as it arises. this makes Leo feel stifled and infantilized, and drives a wedge in their relationship (the same one Raph is driving between himself and Mikey, in fact)

his and Donnie's distinctly different approaches to the situation also mean that they get into arguments often and can't really deal with being around each other, leaving Raph feeling isolated at the start (and thus pouring more attention and effort into Leo, which compounds the problem)

Raph dealing with his own guilt and trying to find the balance between helping Leo while also respecting his need for independence, boundaries, and dignity is a big part of his journey in the AU, and it also improves his relationship with Mikey and Donnie as he gets better at those skills

Donnie

Donnie is not dealing well with the fact that there's nothing to fix. they can only be patient and work incrementally to improve Leo's condition

he distracts himself by putting all his energy into making the lair accessible for Leo, building him mobility aids and doing everything he can to help

he also has a hard time understanding why Leo won't do the things that will help him (at first), because doesn't he just want things to go back to normal? doesn't he want to help himself? why won't he just do what he obviously has to do, Donnie does not understand

Leo is deep in denial at first, and he feels like he breaks down and starts doing physical therapy and using mobility aids and doing basically any of the things that will help him, that means it's not going to magically get better, it's going to take time and effort and it will probably never be fixed, just improved, and he hates that so much he's choosing to treat this like a temporary cold or flu that will blow over any day now

Donnie doesn't understand that so he takes Leo's refusal as a rejection and animosity abounds!

breakdowns and admissions of feelings will eventually happen

Donnie and Leo together come to grips with the idea that there is no fixing this and there is no return to how things were before but they can work toward a new normal that's just as good

Mikey

this one is a little bit too big for Dr. Delicate Touch and Dr. Feelings

Mikey tries, but he is just a kid, and with their dad emotionally retreating too there's just too many feelings for him to deal with on his own

he's gonna play family therapist until he breaks

he's frustrated because he can see what each of his brothers need to do to feel better but they just! won't! they won't do it, and he doesn't know how to make them

he's really stressed

it's Mikey that realizes that Leo needs goals to work toward to get himself motivated to take care of himself, and it's Mikey who pushes the hardest for Leo's new role in the team

sometimes Mikey will challenge Leo to something silly, like who can make the most throws of a paper ball into a trash can, just to push Leo into exercising

he finds other little ways to help the others too, but he still can't solve the big problems on his own

meltdown ensues

Mikey has to learn to take care of himself, too, while the others have to learn they can't lean so hard on him for all their emotional problems

April

the only one holding on around here. it helps that she doesn't actually have to live in the powderkeg

takes a rationally minded approach to all these problems, kind of functioning like family therapist along with Mikey but in a healthier and more controlled way

helps get them resources from above ground

Leo opens up the most about his feelings about his physical condition to her first, because she strikes the best balance between being a sympathetic ear without coddling him

she's also stressed, but she has an outside support network so she's handling it better

Splinter

fully blames himself for what happened to Leo and has a hard time getting over it

depression in full swing

it means he can't easily get out of bed to help his kids, but then he feels bad because he isn't helping them, which worsens the depression, which makes it hard to get out of bed... a vicious cycle

when Leo starts working on his condition he gets a pact out of his dad that they will both work on being healthier together

maybe they manage to find an actual therapist eventually idk lol

either way, Splinter and Leo grumpily sitting over their plate of broccoli and then Leo says "bet I can eat more pieces than you" and it's on son

he's trying his best

Leo's Condition

Leo came out of the armor severely dehydrated and malnourished, even more so than any person should realistically be after two days; just keeping him from dying of the dehydration was the most immediate struggle

the main issue is that Leo's life force, mystic abilities included, were basically sucked out, leaving his body catastrophically physically weak

his muscle mass can come back with time and diet

the bigger problems are the bone density and chronic fatigue. while Leo can improve these, they'll never be back to where they were before the Dark Armor

his reduced bone density means he has to be careful doing anything physical because the chance he can break a bone is much higher than average, and he stands to suffer more from that break than the average person

he'll eventually get to where he can go through his day-to-day life just fine most days, and can even do some of the physical things he enjoyed before, he just has to be careful and know his limits. he'll never be pulling the 1440 off the halfpipe again, but he can still skateboard as long as he's careful.

even when recovered (as much as he can be), he has bad days and days when the fatigue is really strong. how Leo feels on a bad day is up in the air; sometimes he's at peace with it and generally cheerful, happy to be around his family even if he spends most of the time in his chair or on the couch dozing in and out. other days the depression rears its ugly head and he can get a bit nasty and bitter again. his family is much more patient with him on days like that than he is with himself.

in the beginning Leo also has brain fog and sensitivity to light and sound. these clear up over time, especially once Leo starts making more effort to exercise his brain. he starts reading a lot more and doing puzzles, especially things like sudoku and word puzzles, which helps a lot. thankfully these changes aren't permanent

his inner ears were also damaged a bit, this also heals up largely on its own, sometimes he still has difficulties hearing his brothers if they're whispering or far away but it's not so bad he needs assistance

Leo's Devices

Wheelchair

this is obviously the one Donnie had the most fun building and it shows. this baby is tricked out. Leo also likes to suggest improvements often, some for actual functionality but many just because he thinks it would be cool (like neon lights on the spokes)

it is blue obviously. do you even need me to tell you that?

it's fully electronic but Leo can also wheel it around freely if he wishes. Leo likes to wheel himself when he has the energy because it's good exercise he doesn't have to go out of his way for and he just likes feeling like he's moving himself under his own power. but when he's not feeling up to it he just drives it with the electronic controls instead

it has handles that extend and retract. being allowed to touch the handles is a major sign of Leo's trust and initially it's only for his bros + April + Splinter. Leo hates being moved when he doesn't actually ask to be moved, and he also hates being tipped backwards so his fam knows not to do it even as a joke (and it's so heavy that tipping him is kind of hard, anyway). someone touching the handles or messing around with them without permission gets you immediate backlash from protective siblings

that said Leo has them extended often so he can hang things off them, even though Donnie constantly gripes that that is not their intended purpose!

Sr Hueso is another person who gets handle-touching-privileges pretty fast, and he's also the one Leo asks to move him most often because he thinks it's really funny. he hams it up every time. Hueso is exasperated but does it anyway

(if Hueso adds a few extra wheelchair-accessible tables to Run of the Mill no one has to know)

the chair can also be moved by S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. this is mostly just for emergency situations, or times when the chair is somewhere Leo is not. Shelldon is a very good boy who does not move the chair without Leo's permission.

it has a billion storage spaces and little hidey holes and it can sync with Leo's phone to play music and it also has a charge port for his phone and yeah basically anything Leo and Donnie can come up with goes into this thing. it's a behemoth

Donnie also made Leo a lighter-weight chair with fewer features that he most often uses when he's good using his walker/cane/braces but wants to clear a larger distance first, and eventually Donnie makes him an athletic wheelchair so he can play games like wheelchair basketball

Walker

the walker is also blue but there's nothing particularly special about it

Leo hates using it because it feels like an old person thing. even if realistically he knows there are plenty of reasons people use them, including his own situation, culture is culture and it makes him feel bad no matter what rationality states

so basically once he doesn't have to use it he doesn't

as they all get more comfortable with Leo's situation and he starts openly using humor to cope, jokes about Leo's chair and cane become pretty commonplace in the fam (all good-natured of course). they know the walker is too much of a sore spot though, and poking fun at it is the fastest way to get Leo to do something stupid, so no one does. it's better to just pretend it's not there

Crutches/Canes

he eventually ends up with a variety of these, with different levels of support depending on what he's needing on a given day.

some of the canes are more fashionable than others. this is important to him.

Leo pretty much always has one of these on hand just in case, even on days where he feels alright to walk on his own

he is not afraid to bonk a brother with a cane or crutch but he does so knowing they are free to retaliate

Leg Braces

Leo doesn't need these every day but they're a pretty standard part of his wardrobe at this point

they start out plain but get increasingly elaborately decorated as time goes on because he, Donnie, and Mikey can't help themselves

like the walker, the braces are in the "don't make fun of" zone, though Leo is happy to get positive comments about them and doesn't really need their presence ignored

Other Mobility Aids

Leo has a variety of things to help with his loss of grip strength, difficulties bending over, tremors, etc. all of them are either made by Donnie or ethically "acquired" by April

he drives everyone crazy by leaving them in random places and then forgetting where they are. Donnie starts installing locator tags on everything they give Leo

jokes about these are fine, Leo makes them often himself and has silly names for all of them (this also drives Donnie crazy)

#rottmnt #sidelined au #phew #can't believe it lol I don't need more AUs but here we are #also I do not have any mobility disabilities myself #a lot of this comes from experiences with family + research #however feel free to correct me if I've misrepresented anything!#I do want to be respectful #it's why it's important for me to stress the name of the AU is based on Leo's own feelings (and how he overcomes them)#and not intended as an outward judgement on his situation or abilities

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hisunshiine · 9 months

Text

—wind it back, i’ll take it slow [1/7]

Part 1 of 7 of the Seven Days Series ↣ series masterlist

🗓️ pairing: nurse!jungkook x teacher!reader 🗓️ au/genre: non-idol au, brother’s friend au, fwb, age-gap(reader is older), f2l, fluff, angst, smut 🗓️ rating: M 🗓️ wc: 1,741 🗓️ warnings: emotionally constipated pairing, reader is older, adult worries, growing older, dating younger, time passing and not hitting milestones everyone else is, judgy coworkers, explicit sexual content: praise, begging, light breath play, kissing, unprotected sex, you’re wet wet, creampie, cum stuffing 🗓️ an: as i mentioned in the masterlist, blame @colormepurplex2 for this. This is just the first of seven parts, so it starts us off slowly, easing us into the main pairings in a hopefully delicious way that will open you up for more to come! I hope you enjoy it! Also to blame are @downbad4yoongi, for helping to expand the characters depth, @heathfritillary-blog for her writing knowledge, challenging me to be a better writer, and of course @peachiilovesot7 and @mrsparkjimin18 for their last minute double checks before posting. ♡ I really hope everyone enjoys this story! 🗓️ summary: “Wind it back, I’ll take it slow, Leave you with that afterglow…” Jungkook has been your best friend since you met him when he was still in college thanks to your brother, Yoongi. Despite your age gap, he easily fell into your world, your life, and your bed…

Taglist: @sizzlingfestpeach @mochminnie @jungkooksmytype

Jungkook yawns, his voice a sleepy cacophony of rumbles and soothing melodies as he details to you about the last-minute patient he had to assist with. As a registered nurse (RN), your friend-with-benefits often wakes you up past your bedtime to crawl in between your sheets, especially if he’s had a particularly hard night on his shift. Like tonight.

“She just looked so scared, she could barely speak, babe. But I’m glad they rescued her.” Jungkook brushes his teeth from the attached bathroom as you lean in the doorway, watching his shirtless body lean to scoop water into his mouth, swishing it around before spitting it neatly into the sink. “When I left she seemed stable, but this is the part I hate. Waiting until my next shift to find out if the patient made it through the night.”

“You’re a hero, Gguk, even if you don’t always think so. I know you did everything in your power. The rest is up to the universe.” You reach your hand out, connecting your palm gently to his cheek. He leans into it, warmth seeking warmth as his eyes close sleepily.

“C’mon, let’s go to bed.” He reaches for your free hand, stepping past you to guide you to bed. You blink slowly, eyes readjusting to the dark as you flick the bathroom light off and allow Jungkook to help you climb onto your mattress. You hear him shuck off his sweatpants and feel the dip of the bed as his body joins yours.

“Yoongi’s wedding is this week…remind me that we need to check each other’s outfits, to make sure they’re formal enough.”

Jungkook yawns cutely, trying to actively fight it while answering you, “Yeah, yeah.” Tucking you against his firm form, he wraps an arm around your waist, pushing his leg between yours. You can feel his inhalations as he nuzzles his face into your neck, tickling you.

“Ggukkie, stop,” you whine, “I’m trying to sleep.”

He huffs, pretending to be irritated. “But, you smell good.” Jungkook holds you tighter, as if melding your body to his so you two become one. The leg between yours lifts higher, until you feel the press of his thigh against your core. “And I want you.”

It’s slow, the way he wraps both of his arms around you so that his large hands can traverse up your body, fingers mapping your shape until his palms cup your breasts. You love the way his hands hold you—like how a safety belt fits—like you matter. Shaking the thoughts from your head, you maneuver your hands down to shimmy out of your panties. Jungkook shifts his legs to help liberate your thighs from the cotton fabric so he can nestle his favorite body part in between to meet his favorite body part of yours.

It’s always easy for Jungkook to get you wet and dripping as his shaft slips between your lips, his hips rutting as your thighs cockwarm him while he riles you up.

“Have I told you how much I love your pussy?”

“This week? Seven times.” He leisurely rotates his hips, keeping his cock nestled between your thighs until you can’t stand it and beg, “Fill me up, please.”

Of course, he doesn’t hesitate.

Jungkook’s hips roll slowly, your walls suctioning him in deeper as you moan from the penetration. The head of his cock kisses your cervix every time his pelvis meets the meat of your ass cheeks, and his right hand curls up under your arm so that he can hold your neck. A slight pressing of his hand, pressure building as your airway shrinks minimally, sends your heart racing.

His touch always heats your body, and when he moves his hands from your hip to the apex of your thighs, rough fingers searching for your clit, your body jolts when the pads of his fingers find it.

“Fuck, Jungkook…” Your eyes roll back as his fingers circle wetly, the sounds of your dripping core and his cock moving in friction filling the room as you moan out his name.

“I make you feel good, baby?”

“Yeah, don’t stop—please, don’t stop.”

He inhales at your begging, and you feel like he grows impossibly harder inside of you. “I won’t, not when you ask so nicely.”

And he doesn’t stop, but his sleepy thrusts aren’t enough to get you there, even with his fingers gliding along your bundle of nerves. You sigh, turning in his arms as he whines at the loss of your walls.

Rolling you onto your back, Jungkook re-enters you, his body framing yours from above as you lift your legs to wrap around his slender waist. This angle allows him better access, and you leak out around his cock, juices trailing down your body to drip beneath you onto the sheets. His palms frame your shoulders, caging you in as he smirks down at you like the menace he is.

Looking up at his face, it’s hard to see all of your favorite parts of him in the dark; the scar along his cheek, the beauty mark you kiss beneath his bottom lip, his doe eyes that sparkle like stars when he looks at you. His head drops to your cheek, and you feel his eye fluttering, lashes tickling your cheek as he tries to hold out, so you can cum first.

“Kiss me,” you gasp out, and he lifts his head up, tendrils of his hair dancing across your face as he positions his lips to slot over yours. His kiss is fervent, open-mouthed with his tongue seeking yours instantly. Each piston of his hips brings you closer and closer to your peak, a music box key being twisted tighter and tighter until there’s nothing left for you to do but erupt. Your walls flutter, and he fucks you through it, every compressing movement setting him up to follow you into ecstasy.

Jungkook wants to hold out, you can tell by the way his shoulders tense up under your hands as they roam his body.

“I could die buried in this pussy, babe, so tight.”

“Please don’t,” you half chuckle, half moan, “I wouldn’t be able to look the hospital staff in the eye again.” You bury your fingers into his messy bedhead and tug. His resounding moan is a luscious symphony, notes sending shivers along your spine.

“Let go for me, fill me up.” You sound breathy as you coax him, voice inviting and ambrosial to help get him there. “Gguk, your cock, fuck, so big…” He coaxes a second orgasm from you, and this time he does cum, a mutual climax leading him to collapse against your chest. He’s heavy in a good way, chests heaving as you collectively try and catch your breath.

“I’ll change the sheets in the morning,” you comment as he pulls out, his cum trying to follow, but his fingers stop the flow, stuffing you full again while his free hand reaches for the tissue box you placed conveniently on the nightstand.

“You sure? I can change them while you pee.”

“What would I do without you, Ggukkie?” you joke as he relents with a sigh and allows you to get up, pouting at you for letting his cum go to waste.

“You’ll never have to find out. I have a shift meeting tomorrow, but fuck it, let’s sleep in!” He calls out the last part to you as you disappear into the bathroom. The rustling of the new sheets being tucked under each of the four corners is only drowned out when you flush and wash your hands.

Returning to the bed, now covered in clean sheets with a very sleepy muscle bunny under the comforter, you join him when he opens the blanket to show you where he wants you to lay. Curling into the spot, your head on his chest and a leg thrown over his lap, you allow the steady breathing of Jungkook to be the background to the thoughts swirling in your brain.

Jungkook is one of your best friends, despite the age gap between you. At twenty-six, he’s six years your junior, but your friend group ranges in ages, with Jungkook being the baby. Yoongi, your younger brother, introduced him to your friend group after they met in college, and you’ve been close ever since. You have a similar upbringing, the same taste in eclectic music, a love for karaoke, and a competitive streak that has the group making sure to always put you on the same team for game night.

And now, the same brother who brought Jungkook into your life, who is also two years younger than you, is getting married. It’s a weird feeling, when you realize everyone around you is doing adult things, and you’re…fucking your best friend, who you aren’t even dating. Would you date him if he wanted to? You honestly don’t know. He’s a great catch! Has a respectable, well-paying job, owns his car, treats you well, is very giving in bed…but to be honest, his age does make you worry at times.

You remember confiding in one of your coworkers, who works at the high school with you and Yoongi, about Jungkook and she made a snide remark about his age despite gushing over the picture of him you showed her from your camera roll only a few minutes before. It was as if his age changed her thoughts on him and made her look at you differently. It was a strange thing to experience, because you still feel young. Hell, most days you forget that you and Jungkook aren’t the same age. It’s not like you look significantly older than him! Just the other day, you were carded when buying alcohol…

“Shhh…you’re thinking too loud and I can’t sleep,” Jungkook says before groaning when you slap him on the chest. He’s so attuned to you that he can tell when you’re spiraling into your thoughts. You adjust yourself in his arms, letting your arm drape across his stomach. You curl your fingers to keep him in your arms, growing more comfortable as you sink into your mattress and into slumber, wrapped in his warmth.

Jungkook’s fingers smooth down your hair as he hums lightly to you, a small smile gracing his features as your body settling within his arms soothes that small part of him that aches to always be the thing that brings you peace.

stay tuned for “Lemme swallow your pride” coming 8-1-2023!

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frenchkisstheabyss · 4 months

Text

♰ ɄⱠ₮Ɽ₳ Ø₦Ɇ ♰

♰ Pairing: vampire!hyunjin x vampire!chubby!reader

♰ Genre: horror/angst

♰ Summary: A new drug's turning vampire's feral and when Hyunjin uncovers a plot to pin it all on you, he's determined to make your enemies pay even if he puts himself in danger in the process.

♰ Word Count: 2.3kish

♰ Warnings: mentioned drug use (it's synthetic blood), blood, burning alive, mentions of violence, strong language, stabbing, vampires obviously, low key psychotic love, pet names (baby, honey).

♰ A/N: I created this to have two parts. This one is more action-oriented and the second will be more romantic. I'm just trying to do my part to give us chubby badass vampire babes whose men love them enough to commit murder, ya know?

The underground club scene can grow quite boring for a vampire. Your first few blood raves make you feel more alive than you ever did when you actually had a pulse. But the ones that follow? They become so mundane and predictable that not even the introduction of human drugs can save them from losing their luster.

Enter a new drug, Ultra, synthetic blood by vampires for vampires. Guaranteed to fuck you up. One dose opens your eyes to a world far beyond your own. It mutates your cells. Alters your brain chemistry. Turns you into a brand new beast. The power you gain is addictive and the things you’ll do to hold onto it, the sins you'll commit, you don’t even want to imagine.

But you must imagine them. You are the one who created Ultra, or so they say, and some incredibly powerful people are looking to give you a taste of your own poison. Tell me, are you prepared to die? Again?

Distorted metal music ricochets off of the stone walls of the club with the force of a dozen automatic rifles firing all at once. The occasional rapid flashing of strobe lights illuminates the darkness, giving the few hundred bloodsuckers on the dance floor the closest thing to a sunrise that they can tolerate. Everyone dances except for one weasel of a man. A dealer slinking through the crowd in his worn leather jacket handing off vials of Ultra to this person and the next.

“I won’t have to do this for long,” he tells his friend at the bar when he stops to grab a drink. This friend, a fellow scumbag, grins as he knocks back a shot, completely unphased by the recent carnage caused by the shit his companion has been peddling. “The council says once I do this they can get rid of her and make room for me.” “Make room for you? Tell me you don’t really think those rich fucks would ever let us into their secret society”

The dealer nods to the bartender to give him his usual, “See, that’s your problem. You think too small. That’s why you’ll never get anywhere.” His friend only rolls his eyes, turning to check his surroundings before he leans in to offer some advice. “I’d be quieter about this if I were you. If she finds out you’re trying to set her up she’ll sick her dog on you then you won’t get anywhere either.” “Fuck her” the dealer spits, finishing off his drink, “She can sick her dog on me. I’ll just have to put him down.”

Agitated, he slams his glass down on the bar, nearly shattering it. “I’m supposed to be afraid of her?” he mutters, shoving the other man aside to turn down a winding hallway that leads to the back door. He stops in front of the door to dig for a cigarette, wincing at the brightness of the few working lights that dangle from the ceiling of the desolate hallway. The air shifts, growing colder around him, but he’s much too busy fidgeting with his lighter to notice the change. Too lost in the ecstasy of that first drag to notice the shadow along the wall closing in on him. “I don’t even know why they have to do all of this. Should just kill her. She’s just some stupid b—”

An ice pick pierces his neck from behind, taking every twist and turn between his muscles before emerging on the other side. The cigarette falls from his lips, extinguished by the tiny pool of blood forming in vivid red on the concrete floor. “Just some what?” Hyunjin questions, rolling the ice pick between the man’s vertebrae. The sound of metal splitting bone is music to Hyunjin’s ears. “Speak! What were you going to call her?” The man opens his mouth but no answers tumble out. Only blood and desperate gasps for air. Tears begin to form in his eyes as the reality of his helplessness sets in.

Hyunjin leans over the man’s shoulder, his large hand reaching around to cover his mouth. “I should’ve known you’d have nothing interesting to say” he sighs, almost sounding disappointed, “You’re just some stupid bitch.” The ice pick slips out smooth as butter, finding a new home in the man’s left lung followed by his right. Hyunjin moves in a blur of darkness, leaving the man spinning in circles trying to predict where the next attack will come from.

Blood pours from a dozen different holes scattered across his body. He reaches out to grab the collar of Hyunjin’s expertly pressed suit only to pull back a fistful of nothing. The coldness, he feels it now as he drops to his knees, his vision darkening. One final stab, inches from his heart, is all he feels before the bulbs in the ceiling pop leaving him in the dark.

“Oh, Jinnie, look! Here you are!” you sing from the comfort of a rose infused bubble bath. You ease down further into the steamy water, the rose petals dancing at the surface cloaking your naked body. “Pisces,” you begin to read off from the astrology book you’ve been flipping through, “As Jupiter aligns with Neptune in your house of love, you mustn’t shy away from sharing your true feelings with your partner—” Hyunjin kneels beside you, tilting your book back to view the title. He cracks a smile, “A Girl’s Guide to Astrology 2023. After a hundred years, you still believe in that stuff?” “Mmm, maybe” you shrug, running your black manicured nails through his slicked back hair.

Resting his head on the edge of the tub, Hyunjin closes his eyes and lets you massage his scalp. He could stay like this for hours, having you read to him by candlelight as your fingers melt away all that plagues him. “What are your true feelings? You seem troubled.” “No trouble, my love.” Tossing the book to the floor, you raise his head to look at you. It never fails, even after a century together, that looking into his eyes makes you want to melt. Beyond the beauty of his features lies a softness reserved only for moments like this. For moments with you. A softness that most men of your kind lacked even before they turned.

“You’re lying to me, Jinnie. What’s wrong?” One brush of your thumb across his cheek is all it takes to break his defenses. “You know that Ultra stuff that has everyone turning feral?” You nod, not daring to ask if he’d taken it. He’d never touch something like that. Not your Jinnie. Not when he’s seen firsthand what it does. It’d be hypocritical to say that neither of you lusts for violence. But violence directed towards people who don’t deserve it? Tearing the limbs from innocent lovers in the park? Slaughtering whole families? There’s no pride in that. “I caught the guy who’s been dealing it. He’s upstairs. I think—” Hyunjin pauses, bracing for your reaction, “I think the council plans to say that you made it.”

Your iris pulses an electric red, your heart pumping a pure searing hatred through your veins. The council. Five decrepit bastards who rule their own sectors of the city under the guise of keeping the peace between vampires and humans when in reality it’s all about the money. That’s all it’s ever been about. They’re criminals, the same as any mafia you’ve ever known, and you worked your ass off for your seat among them. They could never quite accept that a woman infringed upon their little boys' club. They would’ve put a stake through your heart a long time ago if it weren’t against their own bullshit rules.

Rule #1: We never kill our own. The Consequence: Death.

Ultra doesn’t just make vampires kill humans. It makes them kill each other. And finally, when their bodies can’t mutate anymore, it kills the host too. If they can pin this on you then you’re dead. You, every vampire under your protection, and Hyunjin—

Not him. Never him.

You rip through the halls of your sprawling mansion, hearing Hyunjin’s voice as if it were far away at the end of a long tunnel. “Cover up at least, honey” he insists, throwing a flowy silk robe around your wet body. You slip your arms in, not missing a beat as you grab a blade from the wall on your way to the third floor. You can hear shallow breathing as if it were your own. The stench of whisky and blood floods your senses the closer you get, nearly making you nauseous. Kicking the door into your spare bedroom, you come upon the man plotting your death.

He’s chained to the bed, his clothes tattered where wounds from the ice pick have slowly begun to heal. You descend upon him, your blade pressed to his throat, fangs bared. “Tell me everything” you demand, realizing at once that you’ve seen him before. Nowhere in particular. Here and there. In places you never thought much of. Had his appearances there really been a coincidence? No, there was a reason. He’s been watching you all this time. How didn’t you see it? “No” he refuses, licking the dried blood from his bottom lip, “Kill me and you’ll burn for it. You both know that!”

You gasp, sitting up on top of him, “Oh no, baby, did you hear that?” Hyunjin leans against the wooden bedpost, his reappearance startling the man. “I heard. Kill him and we’ll burn” Hyunjin dramatically cowers in fear, “I’m so scared. We better be careful, huh?” “Mmhmm” you agree, inching the blade away from the man’s neck and burying it in the mattress beside his head. “Jinnie, how long do you think until sunrise?” Hyunjin makes his way to the window, peeking out at the breathtaking landscape that surrounds your home.

It’s early enough in the morning for the sky to still cling to hues of dark blue as the sun creeps up along the horizon. “Half an hour maybe.” “Would you be a dear and open the curtains? It’s so dark in here.” The man’s eyes dart back and forth, watching your smile grow more devious with each curtain Hyunjin ties open. “Wait, you can’t—” the man panics, struggling against his chains. “I know. I know. We can’t kill you!” you groan, climbing off of him, “But we’re gonna. I mean, thanks to you they’ll probably try to kill me anyway, and since you won’t answer any questions you’re useless.”

Hyunjin takes you by the hand, escorting you to the door. “You go to bed. I’ve got it from here” he whispers, kissing you on the forehead. You cross your arms defiantly, refusing to move an inch. “No, we’ll finish this together like we do everything else.” Hyunjin’s arms come around your waist, pressing your plush body to his. “I always take care of you, don't I?” he asks, his hands tracing your figure. “Always.” “Then go and wait for me, okay? This won’t take long.” You glance over at the man on the bed, your mind racing with all the things you could do to him. All horrors he’d very much deserve.

“Fine but hurry. You've been gone all night. I’ve missed you.” Your lips meet, sparking something that sets your body ablaze in a different way. One that has you tugging at the buttons on his shirt as your tongue teases the sharp points of his fangs. You don’t want to break away and neither does he. Once Hyunjin has his hands on you everything around him loses its importance. The only thing his body longs for—needs as if his survival depends upon it—is you. But he manages to turn you loose for your own safety, locking the door when you leave to be extra safe.

Without another word, he circles the room slowly closing each curtain he opened only moments ago. “What happened? Change of heart?” the man taunts, trying and failing to get a rise out of him. Hyunjin grabs the vintage French parlor chair positioned by the window and drags it to the darkest corner of the room. He sits in silence, his face void of emotion, his eyes unblinking. Hyunjin’s focus is no longer on his prisoner but on the evolution of the light that breaks through the curtains.

Minute after agonizing minute passes until the fear of the unknown forces the man to ramble off everything he can think of. Insults, confessions, pleas for mercy. None of it gets the slightest reaction until the faintest sunbeam casts its light on the carpet. Hyunjin rises, locking eyes with the man for the first time as he approaches the sunbeam. “My wife always said we all have special abilities. Things that make us unique,” he says, rolling up his left sleeve. “I didn’t believe her at first but then one day I got caught in the sun.”

Hyunjin shoves his forearm into the sunlight, his bare skin exposed to what should be eating through him like acid. “Nothing, see? It takes a while for me to burn but you—I have a feeling you’ll strike up like a match.” “No, please! You don’t understand!” Hyunjin smirks, twirling over to the window, “You don’t understand. You told my baby she’d burn. You first!” Hyunjin tears open the curtain nearest to the bed, letting the sun shine in at full power. “What a beautiful morning” he hums, sliding the others open to the tune of screams that would wake the dead.

The man on the bed is burning, his skin bubbling like he’s being deep fried. In a sense he is. The heat from the sun is cooking him. He feels every pop. Every sizzle. Tiny fires ignite, charring his skin. Hyunjin watches on, the steam rising from his own skin barely a tickle. He won’t leave this room before he’s seen him burnt to a crisp, reduced to nothing more than a charred corpse for him to deliver to the council as a warning of sorts.

Threaten what he loves and this is only a taste of the fate that awaits them.

#stray kids x reader #hyunjin x reader #stray kids x female reader #hyunjin x female reader #stray kids x chubby reader #stray kids x you #plus size reader #hyunjin x you #stray kids au #stray kids angst #hyunjin angst

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queen-of-scissors · 1 year

Text

İn sagau au, genshin,

İf you tell them you have other worlds (games) you visit they are going to call you

THE CREATOR OF THOUSAND WORLDS

İts time for my monthly brainrots with my little to no English.

They are going to give you some cool names based on your personality traits and you cant stop them. İt can be as stupid or as cool as you think they would.

For stupid ones, we have:

-you were having a stroll with Thoma, the boy who is so popular that at one point he had more fans than you (imposter au lol). When you mentioned him that you love animals he HAD to make you meet all of his stray friends. Those little guys always need some attention afterall and maybe getting the divine creators blessings will help them be more lucky in the harsh wild.

(no he is not talking about your acolytes what do you mean?)

"this one reminds me of my favorite villager from animal crossing" you mumbled, not realising he can hear you.

"Animal... What?"he said, confused.

"ah its one of the ga... worlds... İ created."

Thoma looked even more confused. Villagers? Animals??? Animal villagers???? Crossing what???

He realised how you got a bit anxious from the question so he did not pushed you to answer. Maybe it was a touchy subject for you, so you did not want to talk about your own worlds that you created.

But he did talk to others about it, people were exited to know about other worlds, let alone the worlds YOU created! Alot of people tried to understand what that world was about and maybe add the things you like about it in their own world so you will be happier in this world :D

And that is the story on how "animals' lover" became one of your titles. (Zhongli's idea, he tought it should be something that Suits your all loving heart)

-it was a nice day in your abode. Birds were chirping happily to prove your point, the gentle breeze was moving the leaves of the trees as if its dancing with them. Other than that İt was quiet... Too quiet... The realisation of how unusual for your not-so-secret-anymore hiding spot to not be filled with your acolytes and alot of noise while you would be having a nice relaxed tea is sending chills down your spine.

Oh no.. things are usually worse when theyre silent for a long time... You decide to check up on them.

Upon going back inside, it wasnt much hard to guess why they were busy not bothering you, they were on eachothers throats.

As they usually do on their free time.

The first thing you see is Nahida, trying to fix a vase that has been broken, with vines she created from her hand while Trying to desperatly make the other people in the room calm down.

You also see Zhongli and Al haitham, theyre chatting about something and you can see that the atmosphere is tense. You can feel that the only thing from keeping them from eachothers neck is the starter of the fight will look bad infront of you. What an interesting duo huh..

You see Ei, xiao and kujou sara, weapons out, chasing venti. Ah so the culprit was him. Better stop this nonsense as they might just kill the poor bard.

Your voice ecoed down your abode .

"ENOUGH"

And with that the whole caos seem to stop for a moment. Everyone in the room looks at you. Hehe, works everytime.

"Tell me what happened here" you demanded. And they told you the story you already guessed with just a glance through the room. (Poor nahida got scared the most ;;)

Venti was singing your praises, well... Mostly praises, he also used this opportunity to show off how much he is liked by you. Zhongli and Ei got angry, how dare he spit LİES and blasphemy about you and ruin your image?!

Zhongli kept his composure but it wasnt the same for Ei. Al haitham made a remark about his silance and that lead to the convertion you saw them have.

Nahida tried to stop Ei but it only fueled her more. The breaking point was when while venti was singing, and using his power to make affects, he accidently pushed over one of the most expensive ornaments, and told them you would forgive him anyways ehe.

You sighed, "why did this turn into that one scene in DDLC (doki doki litterature club) where Yuri and natsuki fight.."

"Your Grace, please tell us the truth, do you favor this bard more than us?" Ei said in desperation. But all you could see was Yuri, panicing over you not liking the poem more than the others.

Al haitham couldnt act like he didnt hear you, however, "Forgive my interruption... But what is.. DDLC?"

"DDLC... Hmmm... İ think i heard this one" Nahida speaked up. She knows???? Oh god she has been in your computer she knows....

"İf im not mistaken, İts a litterature club that is sentient. They are aware of the creators appearance from the start and theyre... Hmm.. quite friendly with your Grace"

To that, venti panics, "Y... YOU DO NOT FAVOR THEM MORE THAN US DO YOU?!?!"

You blush "WHA- N-NO?! WHAT DO YOU EVEN-"

"Could this be... That they created that world for them to be their courts?" Zhongli thought out loud, clearly more interested in the worlds purpose than the fact that you had lovers in other worlds.

"NO?! Well kinda??? bUT NO İ-" You panic, that WAS a dating simulator afterall, but you downloaded it for the spooks rather than... Well kind of that to.

You hide your face in your hands, somehow, you feel like you are being interrogated rather than interrogating them, "ima pull a sayori if this keeps up" you said between your hands.

Days later, you walk in the streets of Mondstat, and you overheard the rumbling of drunkards that are leaving cat's tail.

"Did youui knoo dat our beloved creto *hic* creted a world.. dats full of deir LOVERS?"

"Maaaannn i wish i was the creatoorr.... Having a whooolleee world as their court?! Now thats something."

"İ think we can call them.... Litterature fucker-"

....... You want to be mad.... But that was funny.

So you call yourself that now :P

Feel free to add your own :D

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steddieas-shegoes · 2 months

Text

take my hand, we'll make it i swear

for @steddielovemonth prompt 'love is a hand reaching out'

rated m | 2,343 words | cw: blood, injury, temporary character death, nightmares | tags: coming back barely right, post-vecna, realizing feelings, getting together

��🏻🖐🏻🖐🏻🖐🏻🖐🏻🖐🏻🖐🏻🖐🏻🖐🏻🖐🏻🖐🏻🖐🏻🖐🏻🖐🏻

Hawkins has been torn apart for eight days. Eddie's been dead for eight days.

Everyone's been mourning for eight days.

A week doesn't seem like a long time until you're in the throes of the world ending and a group of teenagers mourning one of their friends. A week starts to feel like a year when all you've done is cry and hope for any other ending than the one you got.

Steve was just trying to be there for them, be there for the people who didn't run from Hawkins, and somehow still take care of himself. It wasn't going well.

He'd barely slept more than a few hours at a time, and that sleep was anything but restful, nightmares invading his mind from the moment he closed his eyes to the time he woke up in a cold sweat with gory images seared into his brain.

One in particular had happened three times in a row now: Steve was walking in the Upside Down, searching for something but he didn't know what. He'd be surrounded by demodogs and demobats, but none would attack him. He'd keep walking and walking, yelling something he was unable to decipher. Eventually, he'd see a hand sticking out of the ground. A very recognizable hand, one that he'd last seen covered in blood, his rings no longer a shiny metallic, but a dirty and dull gray. When he tried to reach for the hand, it disappeared. He woke up.

And then he pretended he hadn't just had a nightmare about Eddie.

Robin saw through it. She made him talk about it, said the only way to get through it was to talk and actually receive comfort.

But so far, it wasn't helping.

The nightmares got worse.

By day 12, he was convinced Vecna had managed to get into his head.

By day 18, he was so sleep deprived, he started sleep walking. Robin insisted on staying with him to make sure he didn't try to drive or walk into the road or something.

It was bad.

And then suddenly, on day 19, they just. Stopped.

He didn't dream at all. In fact, he slept for nearly seven hours with no movement at all.

Robin figured maybe his body was just so exhausted, it finally gave up on torturing him. He figured she might be right.

But on day 20, things got weird.

He was awake, he knew he was.

He was sitting in his car with the radio on low, staring out at the only place not touched by Vecna and the Upside Down: the quarry.

It was quiet other than the radio, which is why he jumped when the radio suddenly flipped to a different station. White noise filled the car as he tried to put it back to his usual station, but then the car just...shut off.

His keys were still in the ignition, but the car wasn't running.

A technical problem was the last thing he needed right now; All the mechanics had left town and he wasn't very handy with anything except changing a tire.

But then it started up again, the radio on the right station, and nothing seemed to sound or look wrong.

"Okay then," Steve said to himself. He gave it a minute to make sure it wouldn't shut off again before putting it in reverse and leaving the parking area. He could try to take a look at it at home.

But when he got home, Dustin and Mike were in his driveway waiting for him, pacing, looking far too worried.

"Where've you been?" Mike asked.

"We've tried to get you on the walkie for an hour!" Dustin whined.

"I was busy," Steve said. "What's wrong? Is everyone okay?"

"El said she felt something," Mike spit out. "She said it's not Vecna, but it's powerful, or at least seems to be."

"Mindflayer?" Steve asked.

"Don't think so. Will didn't feel it."

Steve gestured for them to throw their bikes into his trunk so they could go back to El and find out more of what was going on. He decided not to say anything about the weird incident with his radio for now, wanting to hear what El suspected about things before he worried people for no reason.

When they got to Hopper's cabin, still in quite a bit of disrepair, but livable, El was drinking a glass of water on the couch, pale and eyes constantly moving from person to person.

"Sorry, we had to wait on Steve to get back from whatever he was doing," Mike rolled his eyes as he sat next to El and reached for her hand.

"It is Eddie."

The room was silent as everyone processed what El said.

"It can't be," Hopper said, though softer than he would normally. He knew the kids were still having a hard time. "Steve checked his pulse. Nancy checked his pulse. He lost so much blood. It's-"

"You know better than to say impossible," Joyce spoke up from her spot next to Will. "With everything we've seen, impossible is an impossible word."

"But he wouldn't be human if he was alive. And we couldn't really know if he was on our side," Hopper said to her. "We can't trust anything that comes out of that place, even if they have the face of our friends."

"So you do not trust me?" El asked.

"Or me?" Will asked.

Hopper sighed. "No, that's different."

"It's not that different," Will said. "I was down there for a week and everyone thought I was dead. We all know I have a connection to the place. Eddie may just be like me."

El suddenly stood. "We must go to him. He needs our help."

"El-"

"I am going. Steve?"

Everyone's eyes shot to him, his face turning a bright red.

"You have seen him in your dreams. You know where to find him."

"Uh..."

"You can take me and Hopper to him. I can't see him, I can only sense him."

"Uh." Robin shoved at his shoulder. "Okay, yeah. I can try. But they were just dreams. They might be wrong."

"They are not wrong."

So, despite Steve's promise to himself that he would never go back into the Upside Down without the help of the entire military, Steve held his bat in one hand and El's hand in the other while Hopper walked behind them with a flamethrower ready to go.

He didn't think about where he was going, he just walked.

They had a walkie with them for communication, but told everyone to stay silent unless there was an emergency topside. El assured them there wouldn't be, but she wasn't always right.

Steve felt goosebumps on his skin as they approached a more dense wooded area. If you looked hard enough, you could see the trailer through the trees, but it was unrecognizable, somehow even more dilapidated and gross than the last time they were down here.

El squeezed his hand, but nobody spoke.

They walked further.

It started to feel like one of his nightmares, the darkness and thickness in the air starting to weigh heavy on his chest.

But a small movement caught his eye, and before he could even think it through, he pulled away from El and ran towards it.

A hand.

It was his hand.

Eddie's hand was reaching over a fallen tree, just as bloody and dirty as Steve's nightmares showed.

God, why hadn't he said something to El? Why had he thought they were only nightmares? He knew better.

"Eddie!" Steve said as he cleared the trunk of the tree, nearly landing on Eddie's body. "Shit, Eddie. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

Steve wasn't think about this being a trap, wouldn't even care if it was. It was Eddie. He was alive, or at least a form of alive that they could get him out of there, and that was the only positive thing that happened for weeks now.

"Steve." Hopper's voice was right behind him, and El was standing just on the other side of the tree. "Back up. He could be dangerous."

"Shut up! He's barely alive, Hop! He needs help."

Steve was working quickly to check over where the injuries looked the worst. But everything seemed healed, all the blood on him dried and some of the smaller bites already scarring over. But he looked incredibly thin, dangerously thin, and there were dark circles under his eyes as his hand started to reach for Steve shakily.

Steve grabbed it, didn't want him doing more than he could handle. "It's okay. You're okay. We're taking you home, okay? I'm not letting you die here again."

"Didn't die the first time, Stevie," he whispered, his lips curling into a smirk.

Steve let out a disbelieving laugh that tried so hard to be a sob. "I guess not, huh?"

"Don't know if I can walk," Eddie said.

Steve looked to Hopper, who gave one small nod.

He turned back to Eddie. "Anything bleeding?"

"No."

"This probably won't be fun."

"What-"

But Steve's arms were under him, lifting him, carrying him before he could finish his question.

"Didn't think you'd sweep me off my feet like this," Eddie joked breathlessly.

"How else would I have?" Steve played along.

Or maybe he wasn't playing. Maybe the reason he couldn't get Eddie out of his head even in his sleep was because there was a connection. Maybe he was here because he actually cared about Eddie, not about the way the kids mourned him. Maybe Robin was right about expanding his horizons.

"I dunno. Kinda figured I'd actually die before you got here."

"What do you mean?"

"Did you see me in dreams?"

El was following right behind them, probably listening to everything. Steve nodded as he kept walking the way they came.

"I felt this pull. I dunno how to explain it, man." Eddie coughed and it wracked through his entire body, almost causing Steve to lose his balance. "Sorry. Um, but like, I kept seeing flashes of you. Not anyone else. Just you. And if I thought about you hard enough, I could almost like...sense you?"

"Me? Why me?" Steve looked to El for an explanation.

"I do not know," she replied.

"I thought I was just crazy. Like, the crush I had on you shouldn't be enough to cause this."

"You had a crush on me?"

"Have, present tense, Stevie. Kinda hard not to when you're carrying me out of here like a bride on her wedding day," Eddie's eyes closed as they got closer to the gate in the road they used before. It was the only one marked safe by the entire group. "Hurts."

"What hurts?" Steve ignored everything else for now.

"Everything."

"I'll fix it, okay? Just a bit longer."

Eddie passed out less than a minute later after a whine left his mouth and his hand curled into Steve's shirt against his chest.

******

When he woke up again, Eddie was certain he died for real.

20 days in an alternate dimension puts things into a different perspective.

Steve Harrington was next to him, in a large bed, a bed that was definitely not his in a home that was not his. He wasn't in a hospital, at least not the one in Hawkins.

"Shit, Eds. Hi. Hey." Steve scrambled to sit up as quickly and carefully as possible. "How are you? I mean, obviously not great, but like, does anything hurt more than anything else? Are you bleeding? Shit, I was supposed to check while you slept and didn't."

"Steve. Jesus, man, it's okay." Eddie huffed a laugh. "I feel better than I have in a while."

"Good. That's probably the fluids and drugs we've been pumping into you for two days," Steve smiled apologetically at him, like he had to apologize for taking care of him. "You were out of it when we made it back. Hopper made the kids leave."

"Did I say something?" Eddie had no memory of getting back to... "Where are we?"

"Oh, this is my house. Safest place for you right now. Close enough to everyone if there's an emergency, but far away from where most people who stuck around Hawkins are living that no one will see you." Steve shrugged. "Joyce comes three times a day to check on you. I stick around the rest of the time."

"You've been here for almost two full days just...watching me?" Eddie should be uncomfortable with that, at least a little. But he should be a lot of things that he isn't.

"Making sure you don't die, mostly. Keeping the IV fluids switched around at night. Um, changing the bag," Steve looked down at his lap, face bright red.

Eddie realized exactly what he was talking about the moment he moved. "Jesus Christ. You've changed my pee bags? Just let me die. I can't go on like this."

Steve giggled. "It's not a big deal, Eds. Just part of taking care of you right now. Since you're awake, maybe Joyce can get rid of that on her next visit."

"Maybe she would do me the honor of killing me so I don't die of embarrassment."

"Eddie-"

Something about Steve's voice made him look up.

He reached his hand towards Steve's, suddenly not caring about the embarrassment at all.

"Steve, I'm okay. I promise. My pride may be wounded, but I will survive," Eddie said quietly. "You got me out of there. You did what I needed you to do. You did good."

It was easy to hold hands for the next hour while Steve caught him up on what happened.

It was easy to hold hands when Joyce came by and Eddie experienced more embarrassment at the realization of what she'd have to do to remove the pee bag.

It was even easier to hold hands as they both fell asleep in Steve's bed, finally finding rest without nightmares and without the threat of the Upside Down immediately surrounding them.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddielovemonth #love is a hand reaching out #cw: blood #cw: injury #post vecna #cw: temporary character death

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abyssruler · 2 years

Text

5 SUNDAYS OF KINKTOBER

liturgy — zhongli, raiden ei, childe, kazuha, albedo, imposter albedo/subject two, scaramouche x fem!afab!reader

creed — i am so going to hell for this

communion — comment or send an ask to be added to the taglist!

1ST MASS ♱ zhongli & ei

homily — you’ve been the most devoted servant of the anemo archon since the end of the war, not noticing the heated looks by two gods that have followed you for millennia. in your moment of loss at the sudden slumber of barbatos after the battle with durin, they don’t hesitate to take the opportunity to convert you to their religion.

dubcon, power imbalance, sub reader, praise, subtle manipulation, fingering, oral f-receiving, dom ei and zhongli, implied venti x reader

2ND MASS ♱ childe

homily — he often wonders how you managed to end up as a harbinger. you’re so sweet and naive, letting your guard down around him and always inquiring about his health and wellbeing whenever he goes on lengthy missions, greeting him with a smile when he returns to zapolyarny palace. archons, you’re practically begging to be taken advantage of. he hopes the tsaritsa won’t mind if he temporarily takes her 12th harbinger out of commission for, say, nine months?

dubcon, breeding, mentions of pregnancy, humiliation, manipulation, oral f-receiving

3RD MASS ♱ kazuha

homily — he tells himself it’s fine that you left him. except, that’s not true in the slightest sense. he wants you back, needs you back like dying man in the desert looking for an oasis. now, if you had just stopped seeing that man who lives down by the road, he wouldn’t have ended up taking such drastic measures. you don’t want him anymore, but it’s fine, he’ll just have to make you see things his way. you’re so kind, he’s sure you’ll forgive him for it.

yandere kazuha, dubcon, hate sex, stalking, oral f-receiving

4TH MASS ♱ albedo & subject two

homily — your creator has told you countless times how dangerous the outside world is. blizzards and monsters and every bad thing you could imagine all lay outside the little cabin you call a home. however, albedo failed to include in his calculations just how curious you truly are. it’s fine, you tell yourself, he’s not even the slightest bit mad to see you out and about, except… there’s something strange about your master’s behavior today.

homunculus reader, dubcon, coercion, manipulation, voyeurism

5TH MASS ♱ scaramouche

homily — you look good when you cry in the middle of the hall after he deliberately humiliates you in front of everyone. but he thinks you look best when you look up at him through teary eyes as you choked on his fingers in the school’s public restroom.

modern au, college au, bully scara, possessive scara, noncon, manipulation, blackmail, degradation, humiliation, dacryphilia, oral m-receiving, semi-public sex, nonconsensual filming, spit kink

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dawnagustd · 1 year

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throat goat || jhs

⇝ title: Throat Goat ⇝ pairing: rapper!hoseok x stylist!reader ⇝ genre: smut | slight frenemies with benefits ⇝ summary: The only thing you and Hoseok can agree on is that you know how to snatch his soul every time. ⇝ rating: 18+ ⇝ word count: 2k ⇝ warnings: unedited | strong language | reader is having a rocky sex life but nothing major | light bickering | degradation | semi-public sex | blowjob | tiddie fucking | reader is a baddie; let’s be real | slight power play dynamics | rude!hobi but he’s just frustrated | hoseok manspreading is a warning | teasing | spit/saliva play for lube | name calling | cum swallowing/eating | a little strip tease | breast fondling/groping | throat fucking | hair pulling | both of them confuse the hell out of me | open ending for those who don’t like those | reader is a “giver” | gagging | some aftercare | mixed emotions i guess | i think that’s all ⇝ author’s note: We’re late, but we’re here. This is my gift to the Hoseok heauxs(myself). It’s unedited but promising lol. You’ll see what I mean. Anyway, please enjoy this pwp. If you aren’t into the degrading stuff please don’t read this because though it isn’t too bad, the way he speaks to her in some moments is out of pocket lol. He doesn’t mean it, though (I think). Banner by @badgalsgetinfree (myself) ⇝ playlist: Pretty Girls Walk by Pretty Boss Vette | Slut Me Out by NLE Choppa | Don’t Play With It by Lola Brooke & Billy B

masterlist | permanent taglist form | read on ao3

“You wanted to see me?”

The door closes behind you and separates you from all the noises outside. All you hear now is a bunch of muffled voices and faint thuds as people move around backstage. It’s a big night, so the entire crew is busy making sure everything’s in order.

Hoseok has toured across the globe, and now it’s time for the grand finale. It’s only fitting he ends the journey where it all started. He wants everything to be perfect, so everyone’s been put through hell today, including you.

“No. I don’t.” The tone of his voice indicates his irritation. You know it isn’t towards you no matter what he says. He’s just stressed; otherwise, you wouldn’t be in here. “I just want some head.”

Of course, he does.

You give the man a little sample, and now it’s his lifeline. Though you have to admit it’s been satisfying you as well. It’s surprising to you because usually, you get bored quickly, but somehow Hoseok has managed to keep this going for this entire tour duration.

The first time it happened you were on his private jet. The second time, in the back of the sprinter, while everyone was getting food.

Anytime the opportunity was given, you’d swallow him up. And now, he can’t get enough.

“What makes you think I have it to give?”

“I don’t have time for this shit,” he gripes.

With an eye roll, you walk over to where he’s sitting in nothing but some boxers, manspreading on the couch as if he has all the time in the world. You look down at him scrolling through his phone while you stand there between his legs.

“I can’t tell.”

“Fuck. Are you gonna do it or what?”

You sigh. “I guess so.”

Honestly, you’re ecstatic deep down. In simple terms, you’re a “pleaser.” You enjoy taking someone to their ultimate high and then seeing them bathe in it while they come down. As for yourself, you’ve never really gotten off from being on the receiving end. You rather be in charge of your own orgasms; that way you’ll come every time.

You start to drop to your knees, but he stops you.

“Take something off.”

“You’re running out of time, Hoseok.”

“You get paid to dress me, not manage my time. So maybe you should chill out before that’s not a thing anymore.”

It’s an empty threat. You aren’t going anywhere. No one does this job like you.

No one.

“Have it your way,” you shrug. You take off your glasses and carefully set them on the small table. Hoseok has finally put his down just in time to watch you unbutton your sheer blouse, revealing your black lace bra underneath. You toss your shirt at him, and he catches it. You don’t miss the split-second pause before he puts it aside, probably wanting to inhale your perfume. “Is this okay?”

You spread your arms, displaying yourself for him, only for the rapper to shake his head. The next thing you take off is your bra, and his eyes begin to twinkle in the dimly lit dressing room.

“What about now?”

You squeeze your breasts together, giving him a little show while you wait for an answer. He sits up in his seat and places his hands at your sides. The warmth of his palms travels across your skin as he ventures up your body.

“Yeah, that’ll do it for me.”

Your body leans toward him while he cups your mounds, massaging them in his hands and even drawing a few moans from your lips. His lips delicately graze your flesh, and before he can get too carried away, you push him away.

“If you like them that much, I’ll show you a trick,” you tell him.

You drop to the floor and start pulling down his underwear. There’s not a second to waste. Soon this room will be filled with your team and others so all of you can get him ready for his performance.

His dick is at attention as soon as it jumps out of his boxers. You lick your lips, already tasting his essence just by looking at the clear substance forming at the tip. Wrapping your hand around his shaft, you position yourself over him and allow a generous amount of saliva to coat his cock. He hisses from the contact, already sensitive and eager to blow his load.

“Hurry up,” he grunts, displaying nothing but impatience. You smirk, knowing you find pleasure in giving him exactly what he’s asking for.

“Sure.”

Once his dick is adequately lubricated, you lean forward with mouth already open, and your throat relaxed. You wrap your mouth around the head and take him inch by inch until the tip of his cock reaches the back of your throat. You use the opportunity to coat him with more spit until your lungs are burning from lack of air. You pull off and release him with a pop, repeating the action until you’ve teased him so much that he turns red.

“Bitch, stop playing around,” he growls, gripping your hair.

Hoseok guides you to his cock, and you don’t object as he pushes your head down. He thrusts inside you, making you gag and choke around his girth. Your eyes begin to water as he penetrates your airways, leaving you lightheaded and gushing arousal into your panties. You’re thankful your shirt is short because the chill in the room is working overtime to cool down the pulsing heat between your legs. If you weren’t planning on using your hands tonight, you’d already have your fingers buried in your soaking cunt.

“Fuck are you doing to me?”

The gasp he makes when you start slurping and sucking him is the highlight of your night. You know he’s amazed by how much of him you can take in at once without needing to breathe, so that’s why you make it a point to show him there are many unlocked levels he hasn’t even discovered yet. Things he’ll probably never get to discover.

Tonight’s the last show. When the tour’s over, you’re taking a long vacation, and Hoseok will be the last person on your mind. This is fun, but you’d rather be doing this on the beach or something.

“Shit,” he whispers.

You hope he doesn’t think you’re letting him come this quickly.

He gets angry when you release him, but you aren’t done. You poke out your chest and smother his cock with your tits. You watch him unravel as you push them together and bounce them up and down on his dick. The lewd squelching sound of your saliva fills the room and encourages you to keep going.

“Hoseok.”

“Shut up,” he groans, eyes closed as he tries to stay seated. “I don’t want to hear you.”

His nails dig into the couch while he struggles to ground himself.

“Why? Because I make you feel good?”

“No, you aren’t special. Just convenient.”

“Convenient?” you laugh. “I like it. And you like me.”

“What? No, I–Fuck.”

Hoseok’s cock begins to twitch, and you know he’s at his peak. You switch back to sucking him, and within a few seconds, you’re milking him for everything he’s worth.

He moans and whimpers into the palm of his hand, hoping no one has heard him crying out your name. To save his pride, you pretend as if it never happened, but you definitely heard every syllable each time he called for you.

You swallow every drop and slowly remove him from your mouth. When he softens, you grab the shirt he came in with and start cleaning up the mess on both of you. Hoseok stays in his position, eyes closed as he comes down from his high.

As much as you’d love to watch him blossom in his post-orgasmic state, there’s no time. It’s time to get ready.

“Hoseok, can you help me up? I’m wearing heels.”

He finally snaps out of it and springs into action. “Oh, shit. Sorry.”

“You’re good. I just don’t want you to be late.”

He helps you up and helps you get your clothes back on. You do it in silence. Neither of you wants to be the one who says something first. Nobody really wants to bicker after something like what you two just did.

“We’re good, right?” he asks after you’ve turned away to retrieve his clothes. “I don’t really remember anything I said.”

You can’t help but laugh.

“If I didn’t like something, I’d tell you. Trust me.”

You pick out the last outfit on the rack, the one he picked, but when you turn around to take them to him, he’s already standing in front of you. He startles you, and you almost drop the clothes.

“Shit, Hoseok. You scared me.”

“You wanna come home with me tonight?”

Woah.

You were afraid this would happen. If he’s too attached, then—

“No, I’m not interested in you. I was just…thinking.”

Your head tilts with curiosity. “About?”

“Maybe I can help you with your little issue,” he suggests.

You should have known.

Hoseok has wanted to fuck you ever since you fucked around on the airplane. But you’ve shut him down every time with a “I’ll think about it.”

You have thought about it, and you can’t lie and say you haven’t been interested. You’re just worried you’ll be disappointed. You don’t want to ruin the fantasies you’ve had about him. What if he can’t deliver?

“Just spend a few days with me,” he adds. “Like we talked about.”

You sigh. “Hoseok, we’ve gotta get ready now.”

You ask him to step aside, but of course. He’s persistent.

“Look, you can’t gobble me up like that and expect me not to pay you back,” he winks.

You can’t ignore the butterflies in your stomach that flutter at his words, but you’re still tangled up in the worst scenarios. It’s silly; you'd rather be horny than have bad or average sex.

“And what if I’m not interested? What if we don’t get along?”

“I live in a mansion, love. You won’t even have to see me if you don’t want to. Leave when you want, come to my room whenever you want to. Like I said, it’s up to you.”

A knock on the door brings the pressure on. If you don’t answer now, then it’s decided for you because you won’t be able to speak about this. He’ll be busy, and so will you. This is it.

“I–”

More knocking and voices of people waiting to rush in and prepare for the show. Hoseok tells them he’s getting dressed, but that’ll only hold them for a little bit. Your mind is having a tug of war because you’re so stubborn, but you’re also curious. What if he’s as good as you’ve imagined?

“I’m not going to pressure you if you say yes,” he assures. “If you want it, you tell me.”

“We only have fifteen minutes!”

You know that it’s time when someone mentions the time. You take a deep breath and step out of your comfort zone because maybe it’s the reason you’re so horny in the first place. You have to give someone a chance. And who better than…

“Hoseok?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re going to kill it out there,” you say to him.

You’re kind of surprised when he smiles at you because that’s never happened.

“Thanks.”

“Mhm.”

You slip past him and make your way to the door to let in the staff, a growing smirk of your own gracing your face.

“Make sure you save some energy for me, though.”

But something tells you that you’ll be the one who needs to get some rest.

Either Hoseok’s about to rock your world, or you’re going to give each other the biggest headache you’ve ever had.

#hoseok x reader #hoseok smut #bts smut #bts x reader #hoseok imagines #bangtansorciere #bangtanbathhouse #thekpopuniverse #kvanity #btshoneyhive #bts imagines #fic: throat goat #sugakookitty

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adventuringblind · 7 months

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Drive With You Forever

Chapter fifteen: Figuring it Out

Max Verstappen x Charles Leclerc x Lando Norris x Reader x Oscar Piastri

Chapter summary: The reader has a dream, books are burned, the reader gets sick again, but the doctors are nice this time!

Warnings: Every form of abuse is depicted in this story. Sickness, vomiting, fever, nightmares, panic attacks, graphic description of SA, child SA, Rape, unconsenual medical procedures, mild implied SH,

Notes: This is so long. I couldn't find a good stopping point, so I just kept going...

Previous <-

Masterlist

Why is everything so blurry?

The lights are swimming and she can't seem to find her footing. They world beauty her seeming to sway.

She blinks away the feeling, looking to find her center and figure out what’s going on.

“…test number six hundred and thirty four…” says a muffled voice from somewhere in front of her. A familiar voice at that. She hauls herself of the ground as her vision begins to clear up.

She’s still in the basement. Where did everyone else go? She scans the room in search of any sign that their comfort is near.

Her panic increases as she can’t see them. Her chest becomes heavy at the thought of being trapped here once again.

Then she sees his face. For a moment she locks eyes with him, but he passes right by here without a thought.

He keeps circling her wooden box of a bed. She must be in someone’s memory. She would says it’s her own but she doesn’t remember this. Or she does and she just locked in away.

She knew she was unconscious or incoherent enough that she could never quite tell what was happening aside from the feelings. Normally, pain. Sometimes, there were differences in textures. Occasionally, hands.

He’s working in her unconscious body. He sticks her body with all sorts of things she cannot name.

She doesn’t want to be here for this. She doesn’t want to see herself go through this. Feel those things again.

She runs runs up the stairs only to find herself back in the basement room.

There are so many people here. All of them dressed in odd looking costumes. It almost looks like a Halloween party but if the theme was pilgrims.

She sees her unconscious body again. This time layer out in the middle of the floor, bare for everyone to see.

Why are they taking turns touching her in such a way? Was the feeling of hands never just her fathers?

She feels sick. She thought the first time her body had gone through such a thing was the Max. It was different then. He was gentle and kind and he constantly asked if she was okay.

Again she makes an attempt at an escape. Again she find herself in the same room in a memory that’s not her own. Her father has been here in every single one. She assumes that it’s his memory, his connection to her amplified by her wooden coffin.

She’s sitting in the box, playing with strands of light that dance out of her fingertips. She looks at herself and there is no recognition. Her eyes are hazy and the motions feel robotic.

She’d always hated waking from these trances he’d put her in. No memory of what she’d done.

“It’s not enough! Why can’t I amplify your power?” He growls. He’s lankier in this memory then he was when he came to the paddock. His face less wrinkly and no grey hairs in sight. She must have been about ten if she remembered his appearance correctly.

Another man comes down the stares but her past self makes no movement.

“If she can’t bear a child we’ll be finished.” The figure is cloaked in darkness. His voice echoes through the room.

“I’m aware.” Her father spits.

“We need their power if we want to continue living.”

Living? She wondered at times how her father seemed to have knowledge beyond his years. The stories he’d shared about how her mother kept him young she thought was nothing more then a myth.

They are exploiting her. They need her. They need her body and power to continue to keep their supposed immortality.

How is that even possible.

“I’ve managed to make the constraints less.”

“Show me.”

She assumes that whoever this dark shadowy figure is, is in charge.

She watches as a rotten apple it placed in front of her unresponsive body. She still makes no move. Not even a sound.

“Fix it.”

Her past self obeys the command and lets the light dance around the the apple. It begins curling itself around the shape. She can feel the warmth through her own skin.

It’s beautiful in a way. How the light moves and repairs.

This time the memory fades away. The room shifting into something unfamiliar. She’d never see this place before.

It’s a wooden building. It feel hollow and smells of mildew. The men from before are once again dressed up, but they all look different.

They are doing what they did to her. Their terrible ritual. The women’s body in the center is unconscious, but she looks far different from her mother.

Aside from the hair. She’d seen picture of her mother. Their hair practically identical and now this woman’s is as well.

They take her apart as well. It's strange how they drink the crimson leaking from her. Her father was a human as far as she was aware. So why were these people acting like vampires?

Something, a woman’s voice, warm and kind, tells her to watch these men. Each one that takes instantly becomes younger. Any hints of wrinkles gone. Their hair becomes full and vibrant.

Then the scene vanishes.

Everything is dark and she doesn’t want to be alone in it.

The voice calls her further in, and she wastes no time sprinting towards it. The abyss seems to never end.

The voice gets louder as a ghostly figure comes into view. It’s familiar and it’s kind.

It’s her mother.

She halts in front of it. Just an arms length away.

“I can feel that you’re frightened. There is no need to fear me.”

“But you died.” Her voice is shaky and confused. She feels so small in comparison to the figure.

“It’s a connection we all share.”

“What are we?”

“Witches I suppose. Maybe a deity of some kind.” She shrugs. “You’ve been so strong to face this alone.” The ghost reaches to touch, and she finds herself leaning into it. It’s not cold but comforting.

“How were you making them younger?”

“It’s something inside us. Some drink out blood, others use sex, and when strong enough, it can even come from just a touch with someone you have a strong connection with.” She explains.

“What about my other powers then? Could you do that too?”

“That, unfortunately, was your fathers doing. The healing comes from your bloodline, the rest is something I don’t understand.” She sighs with a hint if exasperation. “I’m sorry, that I haven’t been there. You’ve managed to suppress more then I would’ve imagined.”

“I’m sorry I killed you.” Her eyes find her feet. The shame of why she is this way creeping back in.

The ghost leans down to her. “That was not your fault. That could’ve never been your fault and there wasn’t anything you could do to stop it. We’re not immune to death.”

She feels herself being dragged away and into the void. “No!” She screams. “Don’t leave me!”

The ghost reaches out to her one last time and kisses her forehead. She feels an energy she’s never had before flowing through her veins. It’s not scary though, it’s welcoming. “I’ve always been here and I’m not going anywhere.”

She can’t even register the tears as she falls into the void. The once welcoming feeling now morphing into the ones she felt earlier.

Hands. Needles. Whispers. Breaths. Knives. Teeth.

An endless fall into the fear she knows so well.

Lando is still awake despite everyone’s best attempts to get him to sleep. He’d been awake for almost twenty four hours. His eyes are heavy and he wants to succumb to sleep so badly, but he can’t. His mind refuses to stop thinking about every possibility.

This is why he’s able to react to the ear-piercing scream so quickly. While everyone else is stumbling around, he’s taking the stairs by two. Hanna told them to stay out of the room and let her rest meaning they were stuck in the downstairs room.

Of course Seb is at the door before him.

Seb opens in and Lando is bounding over to the distressed female. Her hands are clawing at her own skin to the point she’s drawing blood. Her eyes are screwed shut and her legs are trying to move her away from something even though she’s not getting far. Eventually she hits the headboard.

“Y/N, it’s me, open your eyes please love your safe now.” He whispers. It comes out shaky because he’s distressed but he knows he needs to keep himself as calm as possible.

Seb stands at the side of one of the beds. She’s feeling for an exit and will fall off if she keeps it up. He lets Lando soothe her. His whispers helping the screams to die out.

The other three appear in the door as well. Only for a few seconds though before they’ve dispersed to grab things.

Finally Lando coax’s her into opening her eyes. She’s still rubbing at her skin, clawing lines into it, but she sees him. “There you are.” He smiles at her. Her breathing is still massively uneven, but she lets him get a little closer. “Can I come over to you?”

She just stares at him. Then she just breaks into sobs. Her body freezing in its place as she attempts to curl even further into herself.

Whether she wants it or not, Lando is crawling own to her. Pulling her body into his chest and protectively wrapping him arms around her. She did this for him too. It’s where he learned it actually. She told him that ‘sometimes when we want to make ourselves small, it’s nice to have someone much to protect us’ so they all did it for each other.

She had no mercy on her skin and he’s thankful when Max comes in with bandages.

She starts trying to flail her body and fight them as they get them on her. Lando is constantly reassuring her through the whole ordeal.

Charles is the one to suggest music. Another noise for her to focus on while they try and get her cleaned up. He throws on his recorded piano songs that she’d taken pride in watching him create.

She does relax at the sound. Reduced to just choked sobs now.

Seb had to go check on his own children. They’d woken to the sound and had worried. He’d gone to reassure them with Hanna that everything is going to be alright with their sister.

She tires herself out in Lando’s arms. No tears left to cry despite her body attempting. “I remember." She croaks.

All of them freeze. They don’t push her to continue but they attempt to get comfortable. She uncurls herself but still clings to Lando like her life depends on it.

Oscar is drowsy from having his sleep interrupted and Lando can clearly see it on his face. His head goes into Charles’ lap and the Monegasque looks down at him endearingly.

Max is across from her but holding hands with the Monegasque like he’d been doing since Charles started trying to close himself off.

“Take whatever time you need, chéri.”

She has yet to look at any of them completely. Her face still mostly hidden in Lando’s shirt. “I’m sorry.”

They all look at her confused. Then at each other for some sign that one of them know why she would apologize. Then back to her with no answers.

“Why are you apologizing?” Lando whispers into her hair.

Her nails attempt to find her skin again but Max catches her in the act. He now sets himself beside her and lets the girl play with his fingers. Charles slips off a couple of his rings for him. She’d been fascinated with them and messed with them to keep her hands busy.

Her hands did it without Max even having to guide her. Though the rings don’t fit anywhere but his pinky.

“Do you remember Max, when you took me when is was just us two. Still no idea Charles would be joining us in a month and completely clueless?”

“Yes, it was a miracle I lasted as long as I did. How could I ever forget that.” He smiles at her.

She inhales shakily. “You weren’t the first.” She confesses. All four of them now understand what she’s meaning. They’d seen the videos. Why someone would ever record that was beyond them. They planned to burn the laptop if and when she said the could.

She looks directly at him now. “I feel gross.” The empty tear ducts only leave her with small drops of liquid. “I feel violated and like I’ve lied to all of you.”

“You have done nothing wrong here. You are a victim.” Max stops her before she can get any farther. “What they did to you was wrong and unforgivable.”

“We found videos and images on his laptop, amour. We saw.”

Lando can feel her starting to hyperventilate again as she struggles to get out of his hold. “We skipped anything that had you in it. It made us all sick and we couldn’t do that to your privacy. We did listen to your fathers monologues though.”

She instantly calmed down again. Her hands once again finding the rings on Max’s fingers.

“There so much more. Everything that I am. Everything I can do.” She hold her hands up for them to see and the mesmerizing glowing lights appear once more. “I’d forgotten about this. It’s beautiful. And it’s completely mine.”

“What do you mean by completely yours?” Oscar asks with a yawn. He’s exhausted but still trying to remain present for her.

“I saw memories of those who came before me. I’m some sort of magical being I think and it’s been passed down for generations. The healing and gift of immortality is mine. That’s from my bloodline. Everything else is the work of my father in order to expand on that trait and bring my mother back.” She explains. Even though the story is tragic, she seems at piece with knowing. Like she able to understand herself better now.

“Immortality?”

“My bloody and body heal. It has the ability to give back someone’s youth. That’s why they need me back, they’re aging now.” Once again, the feeling of hands crawls around her skin. She shivers lightly and tries to keep herself grounded.

“I couldn’t control it before now. My father had to go through extensive procedures before I could be of use to them. It’s like I turned it off. But I have it now if I want it. Or if I’m unconscious, I suppose.”

“We want to burn the laptop and some of the journals if you’ll allow us.” Proposes the Brit. He’s not sure that she’ll. Say yes, it maybe the comfort of the idea will help her to stay calm.

“Can we do it now?”

Seb and Hanna meet them outside at the fire pit. The kids once again tucked away into bed.

The fire is already raging. Books and computer in hand.

“They tried to burn us. Maybe this completes the circle in a way.”

They all take turns tossing things in and watching it go up in flames.

As her family locks hands with each other, she knows everything will be okay.

It most certainly doesn’t feel like it right now and she has more fighting to do.

But they’ll be next to her, fighting with her, every step of the way.

The very idea that a cult is after them sends Max's thoughts into overdrive. He wanted to go downstairs and discuss with everybody, but a certain Australian is clinging to him like he'll die if he doesn't.

Him and Oscar sleep the most out of the five. This is what he's become used to since he started staying with them. Mornings where the Aussie are curled up into him have become something he looks forward to.

Currently, however, he knows he'll have to wake him up if they are going to be productive today.

Max makes an attempt at escape but ends up just pulling Oscar with him. He mumbles and shifts a bit before opening his own eyes.

"Morning sleepy head."

"It's too early." Disgruntled groans follow the statement.

Max lets out a breathy laugh. "I know, you can go back to sleep if you want."

"But you're leaving."

"Would you rather me carry you?"

Max didn't know what he was expecting, but walking down the stairs with a sleepy Australian on his back wasn't it.

The fact that the sight brought a smile to the faces of all his lovers made the effort worth it. They join the other three at the table. Oscar looks like he might fall asleep on the table.

“How are you feeling?” He asks toward the female. She’s playing with her food and sitting with her knees tucked into her chest.

“She hasn’t kept food down yet.” Sighs Charles who’s sitting next to her. She scrunches up her nose when he says it.

Max nods his head. The ever looming sickness strikes again. “I think we should move.”

“Again?!” Lando rolls his eyes. Max already knows how much the Brit hates moving. They’ve moves so much the last few years that he’s come to despise it.

“Well, kind of.” Max leans back in his chair and the other four eye him expectantly. “I think we should closer to Seb and Hanna but also keep the Monaco apartment. That way we’ll always have somewhere to come back too.”

“Logical idea.” Oscar says to the table. "We could do that during summer break since it's coming up soon."

"For now, we need to decide if we should stay here or go back to Monaco."

The female looks at her food and then back at them. "I love it here, but I think Hanna and Seb wouldn't appreciate us doing things in their house."

"What does that have to do with this?" Asks Lando. Innocent. Pure actual innocence.

"Because someone can only go so long."

Charles eyes to female cautiously. She'd yet to keep anything down. Reduced to dry heaving every few minutes.

"You don't have to sit on the bathroom floor with me."

"Mm true. But I want to." He runs his fingers along her spine. It’s the only comforting feeling she has to cling to at the moment. Even as she’s back to heaving up nothing, he’s still comforting her.

When it passes, Charles leans her back against his chest. “Do you think it’s your powers?”

“Honestly? No.” Charles hums. He doesn’t push her to continue. He just continues to give her a feeling to ground herself with; his fingers now finding hers as she goes to play with his rings. “It’s the memories. Knowing what actually happened to me. It doesn’t feel real but I can’t escape the feeling of hands that I didn’t want on me.”

She heaves again. Harder this time then previously. Like somehow speaking it made it real and more intense. She leans back into him. “It’s not fair, Charlie. Especially to you four. How are we supposed to live like this?” Her voice is so broken. It’s a sound that will haunt him.

“Will figure it out, Mon amour. But first I think we need to get sustenance in your body.”

“What’s the point?” She groans. “It’s just going to come back up. I would eat anything if it meant I could keep it down.”

“I think I might have an idea.” Charles smiles down at her and kisses the top of her head.

Ice cream is his idea. The boys went out to get it and were diligent in avoiding people. The thought of their trainers finding out keeping them from just walking around like normal people.

Charles had dragged Max with him while the other two stayed behind to look after the female.

"I feel like we're on a secret mission."

"And yet you're drawing attention to yourself by ducking around the corners."

"Andrea will have my head if he finds out about this."

It took them an hour to get back. and things had gotten worse when they did.

Lando greets them at the door. They are thankful the Seb and Hanna took the kids out for the day. having the house to themselves makes this a bit easier.

"Oscar is attempting to force water down her throat. It's getting worse." There is a certain anxiety in the Brits voice that Charles can't ignore.

"What do you mean worse?" Max beats him to the question.

Lando runs a hand through his curls. "She's spiked a fever, and she passes while you two were done." He bounces on the balls of his heels. "Also, she keeps muttering in her sleep and it's starting to freak me out."

The three make their way up to the female. Charles grimaces at the sight. She's panting and drenched in sweat.

Lando is right. He can see her mouth moving frantically. Her eyes flicker back and forth behind shut lids.

"She fell asleep again. I got some water in her before she did." Oscar looks at her nervously. It's the same look he has whenever she's not doing well. Now they know better than to force him away from her. Last time they tried he didn't speak to them for a day.

"I hate to say it, but we're gonna need to find a way to get fluids in her consistently." Max sighs heavily. They all know it's necessary but taking her back to the doctors comes with so many risks.

"What about a private doctor?"

"Even then it would be risky."

Max ponders. They need to think of something or risk her dying of dehydration. "We'll try the emergency room and hope they are so busy they won't pay close attention to her bloodwork. like the did the first time."

Lando didn't think pulling Oscar away from her would be so damn difficult. He's been running the opposite direction of anything medical related since he got out of the hospital.

"Osc, it's just a few minutes to they can get her set up in a room." He tries to reason with the younger. "How about we go get some air and we can talk about this."

The Aussie finally gives in, letting his arm go slack. Lando almost falls over at the sudden lack of resistance.

He jumps on the opportunity to guide him out of the building. He keeps their fingers interlocked. Lando couldn't care less if the vultures pounce on them. He desperately needs to get them away from the anxiety inducing building until they can see her.

Charles or Max would probably be batter at calming him then Lando. But Max was the one who went back with her since he knows her medical history like the back of his hand and has the excuses they planned to use if anyone got suspicious. Charles is on the phone with Seb talking about what's going on.

That leaves Lando. The most anxious out of all of them.

"Wanna talk about what's going on in your head?" They continue walking, hopefully the air will do them both good even if it's a parking lot.

"It's hard to explain." Oscar admits. "It was terrible being drugged out of consciousness. And I thought I was dreaming, but she came to check on me. She bargained for my safety." Lando can feel Oscar's hands starting to relax a bit. He's not fighting so hard anymore. "Then, when we started to try and make our way out, she saved me again. She was exhausted and I had to carry her at one point but it was so cold and damp and dark. I just never want to leave her like that again."

Lando thinks back to when he stumbled across them. How Oscar kicked and screamed at them, the females body in his protective grip. Somehow, they'd kept each other alive, and now Oscar feels the effects of the trauma that has bonded them together.

Lando stops them next to a relatively secluded part of the lot. He spins around and places his hands on either side of Oscar's face. "I promise you that we're never going to let that happen again. We're going to figure this out. What they did to you both is not something I'll say I understand, but I hear you. You and her are safe, and we're going to do our best to keep it that way."

Seb stands in the doorway with Max and Charles. His daughter now, thankfully, awake with a broken fever. The unfortunate part is that there are about four doctors standing around her asking her questions.

They'd been very specific with the Max. Mainly because the Dutch refused to let them near her when they said there were irregularities in her DNA.

They won't do anything without consent.

Yet the boys are still standing guard. Max's eyes haven't left her body, and Charles is trying to keep him from slamming the door open and kicking all of them out of the room.

The doctors step away from and exit the room. Seb grabs Max's arm in an attempt to keep him stationary.

The interaction certainly doesn’t look like much. Yet Seb can see the way she tries to curl herself farther away from them. They don’t advance, just continue talking. He can’t help but admire the respect they have for the traumatized girl.

Three of the doctors nod at them and walk away. The fourth closes the door behind him and steps in front of sebastian.

"We're going to discharge her. We think it was a psychological response to something, but otherwise, she should be okay to leave."

Seb thanks the man. His chest is relieved of the weight sitting on it since he'd gotten the call.

They didn't go back to Monaco. Instead, they flew directly to Hungary. It was her request since she wasn't sure she could stomach multiple trips. It was only a few days earlier than they needed to be there.

Max had gotten his own hotel room this time. The place is massive and luxurious. It's not like it's shocking or that she's not used to it by now. Her mind just recalls a time when her and Max were in a barely standard sized room eating comfort food while avoiding Brad.

"I don't know you, but I am exhausted." Lando let's out a large yawn to further prove his point.

Max drops his bags and turns to face the group. "That's a shame. Guess you won't get to join us then." A playful smirk tugs on his lips. She's not exactly sure what the plans are, but with the cheeky glint in the Dutchmans eye she knows they are in for a long night.

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rush-the-stars · 2 years

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RUIN

minors and ageless blogs dni, 18+ only.

pairing: suguru getou x afab!reader

summary: after your family has fallen out of grace in the sorcerer world and you lose everything, it is decided by the higher-ups that you'll marry someone worthy for you; suguru getou. a troublesome sorcerer with no prominent family lineage, sway, or power in your world. it is a punishment, a laughing stock, and a badge of disgrace.

| arranged marriage au. mostly smut. a little angst or comfort if you squint. |

word count: 5.7k....this is a drabble to me ://

tw: smut, loss of virginity, dub-conish, one slap from the reader to getou and he kinda likes it, strange and unhealthy dynamics, getou has a corruption kink, slight blood? overstimulation. let me know if i missed anything!

author's note: first time posting writing on this blog!! this has been plaguing me!! this was supposed to be a little drabble!! and here i am!! anyways…this could be and i have thoughts on it being a whole fic. it could potentially take place somewhere before volume 0 and after he’s graduated from jujutsu tech. maybe. i didn’t think hard enough ab it so you shouldn’t either. is this out of character? likely!! enjoy!! let me know what you think!!

The night of your wedding to Suguru Getou, you are filled with ire and contempt.

The crescent moon is a sickle arch in the sky to look down on you, the curve of it as sharp as a mean smile, as a hooked knife. You glare hard at it through the window, hold tight to the silk robe you had been ushered into after the ceremony. All pearly on your skin and loose, shiny, smooth to the touch. Wrapped like a present for you new husband.

You grit your teeth.

("So proud for such a disgraced girl," Suguru tsks, your chin in his hand, forcing you to look up into the darkness of his eyes. You look up your nose at him defiantly. His thumb moves to your bottom lip, swipes there boldly, in a way that makes heat race over your face. It flusters you terribly. It makes you furious. It makes you shake.

You jerk your head from his grasp and he allows his hand to fall away, flutter down by his side.

"And so stubborn."

You sneer at him, gripping your skirts to hide your tremble, "what were you expecting? For me to simper and posture for you?"

His eyes dance bemusedly over you, the corner of his lips quirking up in the most horrible way. You have half a mind to strike him with nails and palm and bitterness, swipe the look right off his face.

"I'd hoped for someone a little sweeter, I suppose." He tells you and for some reason, this stings worse than it should, makes your anger grow teeth and claws inside of you.

"A good wife." You spit.

"Yes," he admits, "something that is finally mine. Only mine."

Later, he will tell you he always wanted something Satoru Gojo couldn't have but wanted. He wanted something everyone wanted. Instead, he got you. Instead, you got him.

"I will never be yours." You hiss through your teeth like a little asp. A warning sound, the way a dog growls before it bites.

"You'll be married to me whether you like it or not. Whether I like it or not." He says coolly, gazing down at you in a way that you can't place, in a way that makes you shiver.

"I may marry you, but I will never be yours–"

And when you catch the gleam in his eyes now, plum dark and glimmering, you know he took it less as a warning, and more of a challenge.)

You steel your courage. You breathe through your nose.

You untie your robe and let it slip from your shoulders.

It pools on the floor in a decadent swath of fabric. It looks like a swan, like a dead dove at your feet.

When you turn to look at Suguru over your shoulder, you are at least pleased to see that he is mildly surprised, brows arched upwards slightly, mouth parted.

He recovers quickly, "my, isn't this a surprise–"

"Don't." You snap. Your bottom lip trembles and you sink your teeth down into it to stop it. When you don't fear what your voice will sound like, you say defiantly;

"Do what you want. I'm not scared of you."

And you jerk your chin up again, too proud, too stubborn. Even when you are bare, even when your defenses have been stripped from you, even when his eyes are lightless, bottomless like the sea, infinite like the night sky as he gazes at you.

He approaches slowly, almost lazily, a predator that lopes closer to his prey. The breeze from the window makes you shiver.

"Look whose being brave," he coos, reaching out with his knuckles to touch your cheek, a brush of his skin. It's the first touch he gives you of the night.

He savors it. You try to hold still.

"Are you sure?" He asks and there is something unreadable in his face now, something monstrous at the edges, the flicker of it, of that hunger–a maw, opening wide in front of you to swallow you down like his curses, "I was going to let you have tonight."

"How merciful," you say, all heat and viciousness, all teeth. You jut your chin up, glare up into his face and say, "it doesn't matter. Like I told you; I will never be yours in any meaningful way."

The touch at your cheek becomes bigger, a palm that slides to the nape of your neck, fingers slipping into your hair. He holds you in a way that makes you feel the control, so you can feel the strength of his broad hand. The power in it. Horribly, it makes you feel small, too, to be cupped in his hands like that, to be guided.

His smile is lazy, almost aloof, like the sickle curved moon, but the burning of his eyes tells you differently. All violet heat, like the night sky swathed around that moon.

Tenderly, he promises, "I will strip you of your pride tonight. It will be the first thing you have to put down if you want anything good from me."

"I'll make you bleed," you promise back.

He laughs, low and soft and heated, before he says, "I'll tame you someday."

And he sways forward, lets his nose brush along yours, tilts your head up at the neck so your lips are offered to him like sacrifice, like a lamb.

"I'll kill you someday." You vow, just a whisper that brushes against his lips.

You can feel his smile when he kisses you, deep and slow and horribly burning. Leisurely, he forces you open, rolls his tongue into your mouth, forces you still, forces you to like it.

You feel your hands come up to tighten in his clothes, ruining them. You feel yourself go slack in his hold. You feel yourself warm to his touch, to his mouth, to his tongue.

For a fleeting moment, you wonder if he's trying to devour you, too, if he also thinks of you as his curse.

He bands an arm around your waist, forces you to press your bare body to his clothed one, fits his big hand along the curved cage of your ribs. And you feel–

You twist in his arms when you feel how hard he is, when it makes your stomach flip and then frightens you, when it makes heat swim up your chest and neck.

He can feel your shyness, moves his arm down to the dip of your waist to force your squirming still. He makes you feel him.

You part from his kiss, panting a little, pushing against him fitfully. He tightens like a snake around you, until you go still for him again.

"Undress me," he murmurs.

You swallow hard.

But with shaking fingers, you move to begin stripping him of his layers. Tanned, bare skin is revealed to you; silvery scars race and arc over his chest, along his shoulders and biceps. His stomach is toned, dark hair running down, further into–

You look away stubbornly when you get to his lower half. Your hands work blindly, until he says, "ah, ah, ah–" and he grabs your chin, makes you look at his face, makes you look down at your little hands near his stomach, near his hips– "Don't look away."

You swallow hard. You glare at your hands, heat rising swift and harsh to your chest, up your neck, to your cheeks. His clothes come away beneath your hands, leaving him bare, too.

You fight the urge to look away again.

"Touch me," he murmurs, watching your face, and you don't–you don't know why you listen. But as if possessed, you obey him.

He's hot to the touch, heavy in your hand, and you realize you can hardly breathe.

His intake of breath is sharp, coupled with your forced little exhale. You glare up into his face, jaw set tight with ire, face on fire. Embarrassed. Angry.

"Oh, if looks could kill." He hums, pressing his hips up into your hand. Uncertain but trying, you stroke slowly, carefully, get used to the feeling in your hand. "Such contempt on your face right now, wife."

"Enjoy it while it lasts," you try to snap, but your voice has gone thinner. You've lost some of your bite.

He laughs when he kisses you, meaner this time, teeth in your tender lip, his brutality like a slow ambling leopard. It's still leisurely, intimate in a way that is frightening, in a way that makes you feel like he's got you between his jaws.

He starts walking you back to the bed, crowding you, guiding you. And not for the first time, but certainly the most concerning time, do you realize how big and broad he is. Blindly, you let him urge you back. You let him lay down first, you let him take your hand, you let him–

"You want me–" on top? Your voice has a tremble in it.

"Scared?" He asks, tugging your hand, tugging you onto the bed. Over him. Holding your hand in his, laced fingers, palm to open palm.

"No, I just thought you'd want to–" You don't finish the sentence as you ease into straddling his waist, keeping up on your knees, away from him.

"Want to what? Say it."

You can feel your embarrassment come back up to strangle you.

"In what ways did you think I'd want you? Underneath me? Belly up and vulnerable? On your stomach with your back arched? On your side?" He asks and his voice is low, soft to your ears, but dark. One large hand of his grips your waist, fits itself around the curve, and forces you forward. You stumble a little, catch yourself on his chest.

"How did you think of this night? What way did you hope for?"

"None of them." You snap. "I don't want you."

"Liar." He says back, and he moves so his palm is on your lower abdomen, thumb moving dangerously close to the apex of your thighs, "if I touch you here, what will I find?"

You jerk away from his touch as if burned.

He readjusts his hold on your waist to force you still again as if dealing with an unruly child. This time, when his thumb swipes between your legs, it is through silken folds, slippery and gentle.

You strangle the moan that dares to bubble up, stifle it with an even smaller noise. He is so embarrassingly slow and careful with you, almost loving with the way he strokes, that you want to hide. You want to cling to him. You want to kill him.

"Ah, see? That's what I thought–" Suguru's thumb dips barley inside, and even that, just one finger, is bigger than what you're used to. His whole hand spans wide across your body. "–so wet for me."

You look away, attempting to bare it, teeth firmly stuck in your bottom lip. He never breaches you. Just strokes, slow and soft, painfully good and sweet, enough to make your hips cant a little. He doesn't say a word now, just listens to you breathe, to the small, slick sound between your legs.

It's so–

"I won't prep you more than that." He finally says and you feel your heart rabbit hard in the pit of your chest, like it might take off and run away from you. You look at his face. He must see your fear. "Unless you'd beg for my fingers inside you. Unless you'll beg me to be kind."

As if to emphasize, his thumb pauses, just outside, barely inside.

You can't bring yourself to ask for it. You won't beg. Even if you're shaking in his hold, even if you want to drop your hips a little, squirm until his thumb slips inside.

"Do what you want." You say again, stubborn and furious.

Suguru sighs lightly the way adults do with children. Have it your way, he seems to say, before he takes his hand away entirely. You watch as he fists himself, as he strokes himself easily. And then he's there, at the crux of your legs, and you panic a little because he's big and you remember the weight in your hand and–

"Wait–"

He forces you down onto him with one large hand gripping your waist. Your nails sink into his shoulders, body bowing forward as pain spasms through you, in you. You hiccup a breath, strangled, tears pricking your eyes sharply.

His mouth falls open, brows drawing together in mock sympathy for you. "Oh, you should've swallowed your pride, wife."

You whimper. He hisses.

"Maybe there is something you're useful for," he breathes, fingers flexing in your waist, moving to your back and then lower to grab and ease you up, ease you back down. You can feel him now, through the pain, deep and heavy inside of you. It's so raw, so strange and vulnerable, that you can't help the sudden swell of emotions.

Searing anger. Shameful arousal. Lingering fear. They all blend and blur.

He curses softly against your temple, "–knew, if nothing else, that you'd be good for this–"

Bastard.

You strike him with an open palm.

It cracks against his cheek, whips his face to the side. His cheek blossoms all hot and pink with it instantly. Satisfaction sinks into you. You feel him twitch inside you, feel your stomach flip with the look on his face.

He laughs, seizes you in a kiss, forces you down deeper onto him, "–knew you'd be perfect. Knew for how wretched you were that you'd be perfect for me." He says against your open mouth.

He lifts you, drops you onto him even slower, not to mitigate the pain by suspend it. You can tell he's being cruel, grinding you down onto him, trying to etch the feeling of him like this inside you forever.

You can't even speak and you force any noise that might come out of you down, down into the depths of you. You can feel your walls cling to him, latched tight, fluttering desperately. You can feel the way he burrows himself so deep inside you that you might be sick with him. You try so hard to breathe, to bear it, to take it. But it's too much–it's too much–

A small sob finally bursts out of you, shameful and tender.

"Wrap your arms around me." He commands, soft, almost a coo.

You don't know what to do but obey, wrap your arms tight around his neck, chest to chest, press yourself as close and desperately to him as you can. You tuck your heated, angry face into the crook of his neck, tears finally rushing hot and quick down your cheeks.

"I hate you," you cry into his skin, mouthing there, teething there. He controls you as you go limp in his arms, lifting and dropping your hips onto him like you weigh nothing. "I hate you."

"I know," he hushes, consoling you, one hand soothing over your back, "I know."

He tries to pull away fractionally, just to look at you, but you whine and cling harder, nails digging into the skin of his back.

"Look at me, darling," he says again and tentatively, you peak at him through your angry tears, brows furrowed, glare firmly marring your sweet face. He looks at you through half-lidded eyes, burning into you, and says;

"I will be the only person to hurt you like this. I will be the only person to soothe you like this."

It's a command. It's a vow.

You let your hand slip into his long, dark hair, tangle in it until it's a small fist. You pull to tilt his head back up to you, move your hips on your own finally, rock them tentatively, a small, aborted motion. And then you say, through your tears, through your anger and shame;

"And I'll be the only one you ever want like this. The only one you can't have fully."

"I have you now." He rasps, a little enamored, a little slack jawed.

You shake your head fractionally, lip curled, maybe in pain, in anger, "I don't love you. I won't ever love you."

You can tell this does something to him, hurts him in a way that he isn't prepared for. You aren't prepared for it, either, the look on his face. The way he kisses you after that, like he's trying to win you over, like he's trying to soothe you, just like he said he would.

"I don't need your love," he murmurs, spit-slick against your lips. Your hips stutter a little.

"Liar," you echo him and it's your turn to smile a little against his lips, the curve of it mean, your eyes still glossy with tears as the next roll of your hips becomes more sure.

You finally let out a little moan and he hums, "there, that's it, starting to feel better?"

And then, "maybe. Maybe this is all you're good for–"

A moan punches out of him.

He thrusts up into you this time, hard, a little spiteful. You yelp, tears stinging, and he kisses you as if to half-heartedly apologize.

You curl around him again, though, and he doesn't even need to guide your hips anymore. It still aches, in the core of you, throbs in pain, but it's beginning to feel syrupy and warm, the feeling of fullness becoming familiar. Almost welcome. A burning type of pleasure that you start to ease into.

You bite into his throat. You tell him how terrible he is, you dig your nails into his back, you warn him not to get used to this.

He kisses you hard and slow. He tries to own you. He let's you ride him, take from him, give to him. He draws his tongue over his teeth marks in your skin.

He builds you up, finally touches your breasts, your body, his hands feverish and scorching over you. He finally gives in to what he wants, gives in to your pleasure, lets you roll your hips in a way that has you crying out–in pain, in pleasure, in some horrible combination of both.

You can feel it all build in you, feel it all balloon beneath your skin, hot and too big for your own body. Too much. You need more, need just a little more–

You get just shy of begging, but don't, bite your tongue until it bleeds, let him lick into your mouth and taste it.

"So stubborn," he grunts against your throat, "I know you like this. I know what you want from me." And then, "is it everything you thought of? Or should I fuck you on your back? Press you down into the bed and–"

"You're vile," you moan brokenly, half cry, "you wish."

And when he forces you down into his lap, digs his face into the crook of your neck, into your hair, and comes deep inside you, you think it might be over. He groans into your skin, grips you so tight you're certain you'll bruise.

Whatever pleasure that had been growing inside of you comes to a frustrating halt. Your hips twitch, unsatisfied, seeking.

You can't decide if you're disappointed or relieved. You hold him against your chest, hands in his hair, body shivering. He holds you back, let's you squirm a little, let's you get used to the feeling of him filling you like this.

You try to move first but he tightens his hold on you and once more you are reminded of a snake constricting it's prey into stillness. You go limp again and that seems to appease him. He lays you back, into the bed. Into your wedding bed.

He pulls out of you slowly, gently this time, and it still makes you whine in pain. It still makes you wince. You're going to be so sore tomorrow–

At this point, you expect him to roll over and go to sleep.

But he kisses you tenderly, open-mouthed, tongue soft and pressing into yours. Seeking. Heat rekindles. He teases, drowns you in his lazy sort of affection; like he has forever to please you, like it is all he was meant for.

And then his lips cascade downwards, with his tongue trailing over your chest, and right over the bud of your breast to catch it in his mouth. So warm and soft, enough to make you arch a little, enough to make your hands come back up into his hair. You bite your lip but your hips twitch.

Dissatisfaction builds in you, squirms under your skin. It makes you become fitful in his arms, beneath the attentive warmth of his mouth. He moans a little around your breast when you pull on his hair. He rolls his eyes up to you lazily, half-lidded, almost asleep.

He is strangely content now, for all his unnerving, crackling energy. That restlessness that seems to live deep inside of him is soothed for the moment, with you beneath him, in his mouth.

His lips travel lower, over your stomach. You know it's a mess, can't imagine why he would ever–

"Suguru," you say and the fear in your voice is palpable. He pays you no mind, "Suguru–"

When his mouth opens against your core, warm and soft and wet, you aren't expecting it. You jolt a little but he's got his arms around your thighs, forces you open.

"Hold still for me, darling." And the lull of his voice does something to you, coaxes you to relax in his hold again. He hums lightly, "that's my girl. Going to let me enjoy you now? Suddenly quiet, aren't we?" he muses.

You glare down at him but it's lost a lot of the heat of your anger. Still, you say stubbornly, "just do what you want."

His lips quirk up and you feel it, feel it against your core when he drops a brief open-mouthed kiss there. A noise works out of you, small and desperate and unable to be kept down.

He tongues at you slowly, through soft ribbons of flesh, gentle and sweet. Adoring. He looks up at you with plum dark eyes, lashes fanning over his cheek.

He does what he should've done first.

You realize dully, faintly, through the haze of your mind, that he's done it purposefully. He wanted it to hurt. He wanted to soothe you after.

And you are sore, aching horribly, but his mouth is so warm and soft, so eager and strange as it moves against you.

“I’ll make you feel better now,” he murmurs, “I’ll chase away the pain.”

He licks long and flat stripes up and down, making a mess, making you burn. Making you love it. Making you hate it.

You twist a little in his hold, start to get desperate for it. You fist your hands in his long hair, twine them around your fingers to pull, to feel the rumbling purr of his moan against you.

You try to resist maybe, at first, the peak he's bringing you to. The pleasure he's giving you. But then it sneaks up on you and suddenly your breathing hitches all tight.

And he stops.

You look down at him. His mouth is on your inner thigh. His eyes flick up to you. He watches you keenly, like a cat, and waits.

He bites into the flesh of your thigh, sucks a love bite into it. Leaves the marks of his teeth in your skin. And when your breathing has slowed enough, he moves his mouth back to your center.

His tongue lolls out again, sliver of pink muscle darting out to taste you again. You whimper. You throw your head back. You give in to this one easily. He works harder, gets a little rougher, tongue moving quicker.

But then he's gone again, when you're about to fall over that edge. This time, you sit up onto your elbows to look at him. He quirks a brow at you, mouth all over your thigh again.

"Something wrong?" He asks, dropping a messy kiss to your core.

"Suguru, stop it–"

"Stop what? You said do as I please and I am."

He opens his mouth against your center again, scorching hot, dirty in a way that makes you keen sharp and high. You tilt your hips up into his mouth this time, offer yourself willingly, open yourself to him. His tongue delves inside, squirms and pushes and slides through you. It's almost gross– too vulnerable, too close, and makes your eyes slam shut.

He muffles a soft laugh, you can feel it against you, can feel the flush of your embarrassment and annoyance.

He pulls away. This time your glare is pointed. Sharper.

"Say what you want." Suguru says. "And I'll give it to you."

You stare hard at him, chest heaving, face overcome with heat. Your pleasure ebbs away, held back.

He does it again. Mouth on you. Thumb holding you open, dipping inside barely again. He pulls away when you move at all, when you allow yourself to give in.

You come down again. You get built up again. Until he finally presses his thumb inside, makes his tongue roll slow and tender against you.

His name comes out, desperate, almost pleading–

He stops.

And this time, frustrated tears rush back to your eyes.

"Stop it," you try to snap, but its wet and soft sounding, a little cry.

"Poor thing," he coos, "but you know what you have to do."

"I hate you."

He smiles like the cat that has got the canary between his sharp, sharp teeth.

"C'mon, it's not so bad–"

You grit your teeth. You try to breathe. He tongues at you again, slow and soft and teasing.

"Just let it go, let go of your pride and ask me. I'll indulge you. I'll give it to you." He opens his mouth against you again, adds pressure, adds suction, adds a finger inside you again. You twist, desperate, so close it hurts.

He draws off you again.

"Let go of your pride and I'll give you everything." He murmurs.

And again he builds you up and again you refuse to give in. Again and again until you're outright crying, until you're heaving with it, until you're just a live-wire, an aching, open wound.

And again he does it, adjusts so he sits up with you, so you're near bent in half, so he can look down at you now. It's so horrible, it's so embarrassing–

One more. He knows it, can feel it, hear it in your little hitching sobs.

And then finally, finally;

"Suguru, please–please, I'm sorry, I-I'm sorry–"

It hits you so hard that all you can manage is a strangled gasp. Your peak is a head rush, a full body surge, a wave that goes still for a moment before crashing hard and fast. You cry openly, twist in his hold, let him lay you back down, let him guide you through it. You pulse and burst on his tongue, throbbing, aching in a way you've never felt before.

"Good girl," he rumbles, and it's so–it's so proud. It's so condescending. You want to be mad. You want to push him away and scratch and kick and bite, but when he holds you, you just cry. And cry. And he kisses you hard on the mouth again so you can taste yourself. He says it again while you're still mindless, "good girl. That's it–that's my girl. My good little wife."

"You're the worst," you get out, even as you let him bundle you into his arms.

"I know–I know." He hushes. "And I'll be worse still."

When you feel his fingers prod gently at your entrance, you start fighting him a little, "no–no, I'm done–I can't–"

"Yes, you can." He hums, "because I said so. Because I want you to."

His fingers slip in gently, so big, bigger than your own. Two feel like such a stretch and all he does is move them slow and crooked. You whimper, tears leaking out, cascading down your cheeks.

And he makes you come like that, too. And again on his mouth. The next all he does is fit his thigh between your legs, while he kisses you slow. Humiliates you. Strips you of all your dignity. For the last time, he lines himself back up, let's his length slip through your folds a few times. He watches himself against you, admires how deep he must reach in you, how wet you are for him.

You're so swollen. So sore and tired. You barely realize it at first. And then you feel the head of him catch and you stir, "wait–no, no–please, I can't–!" You hiccup.

He fills you in one smooth thrust. Makes you claw down into his back until you're sure you've drawn blood. You wail a little, embarrassingly, into his throat. You claw and fuss and fight him this time, renewed a little, feeling him root down inside of you.

He kisses at your tears, tastes them, "Look at you–" he husks, "crying like this for me. Look at the mess I've made out of you. Not so proud now, are we?"

He kisses your palm that tries to push his face away.

He bites your tender lip. He takes your hands in his own and laces his finger between yours to force them down onto the bed. He quells your fight. He ruts into you deep and hard.

He does that until you come again, so brutally around him that all you can do is tremble in his arms, that you feel as if you've fractured apart into little pieces. Your walls get so tight that he can't help himself, starts to babble a little, thrusts growing reckless;

"I'm never letting you go–you'll be mine if it's the last thing I do. I'm going to covet you. I'm going to ruin you, I'm going to fucking ruin you–"

You bite his shoulder so viciously that you start to taste blood.

He grabs your jaw, he squeezes until it hurts. He squeezes until you release.

"I'm the only thing you have now." He growls, thrusts turning mean, ruthless. Desperate. "I'll be the only thing you'll ever have now."

You glare through your tears, and get out his name, and then you croak, "I've already ruined you–look at you. Look at you."

A few more artless thrusts and he comes with a broken groan, raw, against your jumping pulse. You feel him fill you again, deep, and warm. Strangely soothing after everything, after all of it. You go slack for a moment as you heave, as you feel him breathe against your chest.

And this time he is done. This time, he holds you, even when you try to weakly push him away.

"Stop fussing," he scolds softly, stroking slow over your sides, petting you, soothing you. You feel so boneless that you listen, settle down into the bed, into his touch, into his weight still atop you.

He's weakened you to him, stripped you down so you're limp and exhausted, and in need of care. His care.

He bathes you. And before that, he makes you wrap your arms around him to carry you to the bathroom. He doesn't carry you like a bride but with your arms around his neck, with your legs around his waist, wants you to nose into his throat, to be pressed fully to him. He doesn't allow you something so dignified as being carried like a bride.

And he doesn't allow you privacy, either, not to use the bathroom or to clean yourself. He does it for you. You think about asking him to leave you. You think about begging him. You swallow it down and can't decide if it's pride now that holds your tongue or something else. If it's worse to beg now or if it's worse to be cared for like this. You can't decide if it's more embarrassing to ask him to leave or to let him stay and see it all.

He sits in the tub with you and wipes your tears. He runs the warm water over your shoulders, along your arms. He cleans inside you, even when you make a noise of protest.

He shushes you gently as his fingers delve into you again, "just settle. Relax." And when you go limp against him, head on his shoulder, he praises you in low, soft tones, "that's it–there. That's all, darling."

He is surprisingly gentle. Surprisingly subdued and at peace while he cares for you.

He dries you. He carries you back to bed. You're sore and tender, can feel all his marks and bites and the ache between your legs now very acutely.

He lays atop you, head on your chest, limbs thrown around you. You allow your hands to delve into his hair and you realize much of what he said is true;

He is all you have now. And the sorcery world is to blame, the ones who outcasted you and your family. Him.

Shyly, you draw a finger over the line of his brow, the slope of his nose. He is all you have. He is who you're stuck with, for better or for worse. You let it settle in you, deep and unmoving.

He is all you have.

You hold him tighter, know that maybe he could ruin you or that you could ruin him. You hold him tighter and know that he'll be yours. Or maybe you'll be his.

But more importantly, you know that he could ruin for you. He could ruin all of them.

As if possessed, you whisper it.

You whisper what you want him to become in his ear, as you trace over the scratches and the bites and the wounds. As you hold him to you. As you willingly wrap you arms around him. You tell him you want him to become a monster. You want him to avenge you, avenge himself, to tear it all down. You give him all your ire and contempt. You give him everything ugly while he sleeps and dreams and sighs into your neck.

You poison him. You curse him.

You will ruin them all. You will be something powerful. Something horrible. You will change everything. You will ruin everything.

All I have to do is ask, you think. All I have to do is ask.

And he will give you everything.

#getou suguru x reader #suguru getou x reader #getou suguru x you #suguru getou x you #suguru geto x reader #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru x y/n #geto suguru x you #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #suguru geto x you #suguru geto x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk #cielo writes

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parkersbliss · 2 years

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Shit | F. Hargreeves

pairing: five hargreeves x wanda!reader

warnings: violence and cursing

wc; 1.2k

synopsis: five has one badass girlfriend to help take down the sparrows… or try to

requests: CLOSED

Masterlist | Taglist | Prompt list

—

“shit”

that summons it up pretty quickly tbh

like damn saved the world once and you’ve all been replaced

hahaha. .. what the fuck

“they claim to be spawn” reggie said

“claim? okay five what the hell is going on” allison asked turning towards five

five grimaces “I don’t know yet but it’s concerning”

“this is great,” you mumble

it starts with klaus trying to hug ben and being humbled and punched so hard he flies over a table

instantly, fight mode is activated as everyone argues if that was necessary

and then marcus punches luther and it’s game over

your eyes flash red, energy pulsing in your hands

“I’ll take this one babe” five said

you, of course, already know how that will go

he goes to knee ben, only to get punched

but he punches back and spins around

he goes for him again but ben ducks

five frowns, once again going for it

but ben blocks his arm and punches him in the stomach before turning him in a choke hold

five blinks out, falling next to you

“you’re alive! that’s great or possibly horrible, I’m not really sure yet”

“okay is that some sort of weird smack talk”

“it’s really more of an extensional problem, really, ben” five chides

“awesome, well, here’s your next problem”

“my turn” you grin

ben launches one of his tentacles at you

and you’re quick to throw it and him to the right with your magic

“you know even though you’re a total asshat now” five starts

ben again tries with his tentacles and you just shake your head, “nuh uh”

this time he uses two and you deflect them easily and send a ball of energy his way

he stumbles back and five appears next to him, punching him in the jaw

“It’s nice to see you again, really”

there’s a weird squeaking noise and you turn to see a flying cube

you furrow your brows, charging up your powers

then diego jumps on it and starts screaming “Who’s your daddy”

you and five just sigh before looking to help the others

you both teleport to the main room to find allison and vanya

allison’s on the floor and five grabs her before teleporting out

you glare at the man who was there

“okay showtime”

you use your magic to propel yourself up before firing at him, however, the pain radiates back at you

and he’s unaffected

you groan and switch to a different approach

you lower yourself down in front of him, smirking “stand down” you spoke slowly

he does and you smile before flying off to find five

“what are you their mascot?” someone snorts

“more like their ringer”

you drop down as five blinks behind her and socks her across the jaw

you laugh at that until she spits at him

“ugh, hey gross, all right?” five said

but then he blinks slowly and you know something’s wrong

you turn toward the girl and roll your shoulders back

she stands up, spitting at you and you dodge it

“try me” you threaten

she goes to punch you, but you stop her hand with just a look

her eyes widen and you direct the punch right back to her face

she stumbles back and you chuckle

using your telekenises, you grab a vase from a table and throw it at her

she ducks and gets back up, swinging her leg at you

you block it with your hand and turn it in your grip and toss her back

you just send a few energy bursts her way to stun her before grabbing her in a chokehold and holding her over the foyer

with your magic ofc

“bye now” you said before dropping her

you turn back to five, snapping your fingers in his face

he’s making out with… air

you roll your eyes, before closing them and opening your mind to him

you can clearly see what he’s seeing and you feel your cheeks heat up

he’s kissing you

but then you erase the hallucinations and bring him back to reality

he inhales sharply, blinking

“sup bitch” someone said

and you turn to see the girl you threw off the balcony perfectly fine

her sister with long hair behind her

shelands a kick to you and five, and you almost collide with the stairs but you stop both you and five mid fall and reverse yourselves back up

“the briefcase!” five shouts

“go!” You said “I can deal with this”

“again? really?” you taunt at the girl

she moves to punch you, but you grab her arm, holding her there and knee her in the stomach

when she doubles over you push her away

you use your magic to pin her to the wall and start choking her

your eyes flash red as you continue to cut off her airway

just when she’s on the verge, a force sweeps you off your feet and you hover over the living room

you glare at the person responsible, that being the sister

she smiles before dropping you

you land on the table in a crouched position, glaring at the so called sparrow academy members around you

“bad idea,” you said

“(Y/N)!” five shouts

you smirk, eyes deep red as you send out a huge pulse of energy

a wave of red sweeps the room, knocking all of them off their feet as they crash into the wall

you dust your hands off when you’re done, looking up at marcus and blowing him a kiss as five grabs your arm

“as hot as that is babe, we gotta go”

“right with ya”

he places a hand on your back leading you out, but not without a middle finger to the sparrows

“that’s my girlfriend, assholes! don’t mess with her”

— END —

🏷 five taglist: @clearbasementvoid @halfumbrella @esmedith @navs-bhat @alexxavicry @thelaststraw3 @rainbows-r-nice05 @gcldtom @bokuakadaily @3ternalreal1ty

#five hargreeves x you #five hargreaves x reader #five hargreeves #five hargreeves x reader #umbrella academy five #tua five x reader #tua fic #tua five #number five x reader #number five #five x reader #five x you #five x y/n #the umbrella academy #tua #tua season 3 #tua s3

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entamewitchlulu · 8 months

Text

there's a post that will eventually spit out of my queue about homumado and the subversion of Homura rejecting salvation to impose her own reality on Madoka that kind of captures what i'm about to say, but at the end of the day i'm feral about it because it's all about agency and trauma and the reclamation of power at the expense of others through the viewpoint of wanting to save someone.

I think it's like. The first 12 episodes of Madoka got us feeling like the whole point was Hope and sacrifice and fighting for what's right. and it kind of was. But with the next three movies it reframes everything, and with the trailer we just got I think it just confirms that. Madomagi isn't about hope, it's about power and agency.

Throughout the whole 12 episodes of the original series, Madoka has very little agency. She is tugged around by circumstances, watching helplessly as everyone and everything else falls apart around her. Homura, too, is without agency. She is trapped in an unending cycle where she is ultimately always helpless. It's the feeling of helplessness/hopelessness that drives magical girls to become witches.

Which, makes sense for the whole Themes. Kyubey is offering young girls, adolescents, a time of life where you feel sort of stuck and helpless in a world you're just understanding to be bigger than you thought, an illusion of agency. Make a wish, become a superhero, take charge of your own destiny. Make something happen with your own two hands. Have a measurable effect on the world.

But then wishes always go sour, and the fighting becomes endless and hopelessness sets in and you realize you were never in control at all. You were given an illusion of controlling your own life but in the end you were a puppet of fate and this ending was inevitable. You were always doomed to be powerless. Despair comes from the realization that nothing you do really matters and you have no true effect on the world except to continue its same sad cycle.

Madoka's wish and subsequent ascension is a total reclamation of agency and power. She takes the tools of the oppressor and reframes them to become eternity, to finally take control and become something greater that truly makes a difference in the universe. After watching everyone fall apart helplessly, she matures into the power to do something about it.

Then there's Homura. In the end, her struggle still felt meaningless to her. Madoka was able to ascend and change the world because of Homura, yes, but Homura's wish, her desire for control, was for Madoka to be alive, happy, and human. And that choice was taken away from her by way of Madoka's choice, leaving her to continue her painful slog through reality without the one person she cared about on yet another meaningless, eternal battlefield. She was helpless to stop Madoka from disappearing in the end, and she feels as though her choices are ultimately meaningless.

So at the end of Rebellion, it is Homura who decides to wrest her own agency. Unlike Madoka, who uses the system itself against itself, Homura comes from the outside and shatters the system. She regains control over a chaotic, impossible situation and becomes the power in charge of it.

But by doing so, she steals Madoka's agency, which Madoka worked so hard to develop and choose for herself. She makes Madoka helpless again.

And that is the crux of the story, and the reason why these two star-crossed lovers, at this point in time, are doomed to never be together - both of them desire agency, but their agency comes at the expense of each other. The only way for them to exert control over their own lives is if they put the other into a gilded cage of sorts - Madoka unintentionally, Homura on purpose. They have fallen into a dichtomy of belief that someone must be Saved and the other must be the Savior, and thus, they struggle, because the only way they can conceive of controlling their own lives in a way that gives them agency is through stripping agency from the other.

I sincerely doubt Walpurgisnacht Rising will be the final Madoka movie because I think they'll drag it out as long as possible, but I think the cycle of stealing agency from each other in order to gain their own sense of self will continue until one or both of them realizes that Saved and Savior are concepts that are inherently restrictive and still a part of the system that initially trapped them (see: Revolutionary Girl Utena). And it's going to be brutal for both of them because I think both of them have these ideas in their head of the other person and aren't truly seeing the other as full human beings who deserve to have the freedom to choose their lives.

They're going to continue to circle each other, struggling for dominance until they can break every part of the cycle of helplessness and see each other as true equals, and that's very toxic yuri of them and it drives me absolutely fucking insane i love these unhinged toxic lesbians ahhhhhHHHHH

#homumado #madohomu #puella magi madoka magica #walpurgisnacht rising #lulu talks #lulu's meta

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baddestbittyontheblock · 3 months

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dolliewu's january fic recs

ꪶ ꫂ hi everyone, i've decided join in on monthly fic recs. i hope you all enjoy my faves of january!! ꪶ ꫂ

ꪶ ꫂ remember to like and reblog the works you enjoy in order to support each writer!! ꪶ ꫂ

ꪶ ꫂ however, make sure you read the information on each story themselves such as triggers & warnings ꪶ ꫂ

ꪶ ꫂ also, if you’d like me to remove your fic from this list, message me! ꪶ ꫂ

ꪶ ꫂ dividers: @chilumitos, banner: toby cosmico on pinterest ꪶ ꫂ

woso

alexia putellas

❅ against all odds (to wait for you is all i can do) – part twelve (final part) by @thesunisatangerine alexia putellas x photojournalist!reader | mentions of grief, suggestive content

-this wasn’t the first time you caught yourself thinking how difficult it was to have two professional athletes in your life, and it also wasn’t the first time you wondered how their bodies could store so much energy.

❅ aromatic affections by @codiemarin alexia putellas x reader | fluffy smut, fingering, more fluffy than smutty actually

-you´ve had a rough few weeks and alexia wants to help you feel better.

ingrid engen, mapi leon

❅ always want you by @girlgenius1111 ingrid x mapi x reader

-with mapi injured, and ingrid running herself ragged with the team, r does everything she can think of to take some of the stress of them. she neglects herself in the process though, until an injury forces her to slow down. she doesn't take it very well.

aitana bonmati

❅ cope, coffee, and poetry by @repulsiveliquidation aitana bonmati x reader | smut, angst, mentions of cheating. 18+ DNI.

-“you deserve a lover who takes away the lies and brings you hope, coffee, and poetry.”

kpop

blackpink

❅ good girls go to heaven, bad girls go everywhere by @jensettermandu g!pjennie kim x fem!reader | mdni, morally grey characters, toxic relation/situationships, domestic abuse, violence, substance use/abuse, mentions of weight/toxic beauty standards, dubcon, a lot of smut (spitting, spanking, bondage, choking, rough sex, etc. appears), age gap (legal), mentions of sensitive topics, not made for glorification of toxic relationships, 12k+

-y/n opened the door to her apartment as the knocking wasn't stopping and groaned at the person on the other side.

twice

❅ like last years vogue by @sanazakis minatozaki sana x fem!reader | rich kids!au, smut, bondage, edging, praising, spanking, strapping, sana has her middle-class shit together, kinda friends to lovers, friends with benefits, money, sex, power, inspired by the wolf of wall street, which if you haven’t watched yet, can be described in three words. money, sex, power. (and drugs, so maybe not three words.)

-and maybe you’re just tired of the limitations of wealth, the grandeur, the opulence. maybe you’re just tired of seeing the same people day in and day out. but without that, there’s only sana — sana who smirks at you like there's a joke you’re never in on, who shows up in spaces she doesn’t belong and makes you want her.

❅ they can't love you like i love you by @sanarkeo dom!idol!nayeon x sub!idol!reader | exhibitionism, humiliation, power dynamics? unnie kink, 4k

-nayeon wants to show her girl off to the world.

aespa

❅ over her by @myouicieloz yoo jimin x reader | a little smut in the end (just a little). reader and yn don’t really talk abt it tbh. skipping meals

-you overhear karina talking about how clingy you are and from then out started being distant and non-affectionate towards her and she eventually confronts you and asks why you keep pushing her away, to which you tell her

peaky blinders

❅ little one by @tommyshelbyslittleprincess tommy shelby x reader

-tommy notices your pregnancy before you do

celebrities

harry styles

❅ taught well by @signoferoda dad!harry styles x reader

-the kids go into protective mode after someone flirts with y/n at the beach

call of duty

simon "ghost" riley

❅ too good by @dammn-dean simon riley x fem!reader | 2.4k

-"love, they are here!” simon’s voice bellowed through the flat to reach your ears.

❅ dad!simon blurb by @ragingbookdragon dad!simon riley x reader

-there’s something about seeing simon riley as a dad that makes her heart swell with love and adoration

❅ dig a little deeper by ^ simon riley x reader | explicit language, blood and wounds, 1.4k

-the pain surged through her side as she managed to pick herself up off the ground, rattled by the blast that had knocked her off her feet and into the dirt.

❅ his girls by @casiia simon riley x fem!reader | the SMALLEST bit of angst, just a lot of overly detailed domestic simon, baby daddy simon who is still in love with you, maybe ooc

-baby daddy!simon who walks with his daughter to school for her first day, he’s has her small disney-themed backpack tugged onto his shoulder, the straps too small and digging into his skin. but he doesn’t care.

❅ older boyfriend!simon by @luvit simon riley x gn!reader | mdni, 18+

-older-boyfriend!simon who tries to push you away at first.

❅ what they would say during sex by @prettybean cod x reader | 18+

-“i know it's big”

❅ simon blurb by @starstruckmiraclekitty simon riley x reader | fluff

-“you’ve fallen for them, haven’t you?”

❅ simon smut by @callmemickey simon riley x reader | smut

-simon riley fucks intensely and passionately.

❅ to be alive in the summer by @halcyone-of-the-sea simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader | angst, betrayal, intense gore, violence, death, allusions to intimacy, weapons, vulgar language, recovery, torture, happy ending, 8.3k

-betrayal had never been in your cards, and you definitely didn't see yourself being the one responsible for the act. When having to go undercover, first comes the problem of staging your death.

❅ simon fic by ^ simon riley x fem!reader | gore, death, blood, panic attack

-your body shakes violently, blood dripping down like crimson tears from your hands. the overwhelming sense of dread sits with bullet fragment aggression in the delicate make-up of your psyche.

❅ denial by @callsign-prophet simon riley x reader

-you're not his girlfriend, but don't you dare to have a date with someone else. if he only has eyes for you, so do you.

❅ dad!simon by @lundenloves dad!simon riley x reader | fluff, angst

-simon reacting to his oldest daughter having a small crush on a boy at school! overprotective simon having to be scary

❅ secret wife by @moongreenlight simon riley x secretwife!reader

-if there’s one thing gaz knows how to do, it’s shut the fuck up.

❅ lovely by @yawnderu dad!simon "ghost" riley x mom!reader | fluff

-"she looks just like you."

❅ simon comforts his son during a tantrum by @nsharks dad!simon riley x reader | very brief abuse mention

-“what do we need the cranberries for, love?”

❅ neighborhood watch by @kkvqwrites simon riley x fem!reader | violence, breaking and entering, SA mentioned/alluded to (not on-screen)

-the news had reported some unsolved break-ins. if you thought simon took it overboard with his protectiveness before, you were in for a shock.

❅ talk dirty to me by @yujivrs konig, ghost, and price | praise, slight breeding kink, degradation, dumbification

-their dirty talking styles.

könig

❅ cute blurb by @peaches-creek könig x reader

-you have been tossing and turning for what felt like hours. the gargantuan man that slept beside you has been knocked out, as he has been for hours.

❅ distracting dreams. longer name by @dizzykss könig x reader | marks, fingering, pussy play, semi-public, slight age gap

-könig notices you avoiding him. and it doesn’t take long for him to figure out that it’s all because of a little dream you had.

❅ talk dirty to me by @yujivrs konig, ghost, and price | praise, slight breeding kink, degradation, dumbification

-their dirty talking styles.

❅ the invisible string theory by @halcyone-of-the-sea könig x fem!reader | human trafficking, mentions of unwanted touching, trauma, blood, gore, guns, bullets, protective!könig, soft!könig, nightmares, mentions of bullying, etc.

-you didn't expect the man who gave you his coat to be the same one to bust down the door where you and the other women slept - sniper hood scaring everyone within an inch of their life. you didn't expect him to become so important to you, either. (based on könig's in-game backstory)

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