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#i think if i ever see him when i'm hunter i will just kill him
hyperionshipping · 2 years
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I have an angsty addition to a bls 3 sidequest for Tricks I keep thinking about
#so you know how bls sometimes has optional bits for sidequests? Well. I was thinking. Tricks makes a grave for Jack on pandora. Nothing fan#cy. But Tricks *needs* a place to mourn#He can't ever move on. He isn't the same with Jack. And despite trying his best to keep that gravesite secret once out on a job he just k#nows some *scumbag* is fucking with it. Ans he can't leave his job so against everything he calls for anyone to help him out. 'Vaultie. I k#now your little captain of mine wants me dead-- but I'm not quite ready to join Jack just yet. Look. I'll be serious. Someone's messing wit#h my grave. Go and take care of it *please*.' and there's worry in Tricks' voice. Like he can't handle this little space being broken. 'If#you do that for me? I'll give you and all your friends the location of an old gun cache. Everything in it all for you'#and so the mission would be a standard kill some baddies. However. I'm thinking about Lilith calling up like 'The NERVE he has after the da#mage he caused us? After all these years? No. You do what's right. Destory that gravesite. Whatever is left.'#and if you do that? Tricks calls and it's just dead silent for a few seconds. No background crackle or anything. Before his voice cuts in.#Flat and monotone as he goes 'Jack was right. You vault hunters are all the same. I should've shot your leader and watched the chaos ensue.#I had nothing else to lose. But you all love to kick the corpse more then I do. If I see you ANYWHERE? I'm going to take SO much pleasure#when I shoot you in every spot where it'll be a bitch but not quite kill you. I always loved the smell of a stuck corrosive bullet.'#you give love a bad name#kinda
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tubbytarchia · 4 months
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Etho doodles in which I let my inner dinosaur nerd take over 😔 and also have no idea how to shade
Get it cause he's old and washed up haha... ok but actual raptor Etho hybrid justification below cut
To be honest the main reason was because I really wanted a hybrid in the mix who wasn't some furry creature and a reptile or amphibian or smth instead. Etho still ended up feathered but whatever it's close enough! But for ACTUAL reasoning:
He does feel damn ancient, like an old deity of the mcyt space that no one can dislike. Dinosaurs are the same!! They're old but still thought of with great fascination and fondness, everyone loves dinosaurs...
Dinosaurs are ever so mysterious, as many advancements as we make there's still so much we don't know. Just as we know jackshit about mister Kakashi skin man. Also, there are so many incomplete skeletons out there. I didn't have a particular species in mind for Etho, because where's the mystery in that? He can be one of those 5% skeleton 95% speculation dinosaurs like this guy!! Missing jaw and all
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"I'm a runner, not a protector" - so, a raptor, or more specifically the Dromaeosauridae family, which literally has "running/runner" in its name
But! I'm always a fan of stuff going against its nature, especially in this case! Etho states he's not a runner yet protects his allies rather fiercely even in total silence. Eg refusing to kill Cleo in SL or to give away Tango's location during the LimL manhunt, same for Grian in SL. He was a bit flaky in 3L I think? And he only started to have genuine care for allies in LL with Bdubs? Though he is still very much a runner in many cases like during the LL Wither fight. Research also strongly suggests that most if not all raptors were solitary hunters, and the way I see Etho (through my shamefully limited watchtime of his POVs...) he feels a lot like someone who ultimately only trusts himself at the start even if he's pleasant and allying with others, and doesn't seem to think he can carry his weight in groups though he doesn't voice this a lot. That's just how Etho is, very composed, but it feels like there's an insecurity there, showcased especially in SL but again I haven't seen almost any of his POVs in full so maybe I'm talking out of my ass!! Sorry ethogirls I'm only a sidegig ethogirl myself... But yeah tldr to me he gives off the vibe of an otherwise solitary animal struggling to find 100% sure footing in a pack. In whichever ways he does go against his nature, its not usually made a show of
At the mention of a raptor, a lot of people will probably think of the glamourized Jurassic Park Velociraptors. But those awesome guys from the movies are actually the size of chickens. In general though, dinosaurs tend to be a bit.. exaggerated in media, despite how inherently fascinating they already are. And I think it fits Etho because we all know how the Lifers seem to fear and mancrush on him when he's just some dork with perfect capability to become pathetic at a moment's notice. Still, he's a clearly skilled player and still respected without question Etho's not some killer machine like some people make dinosaurs out to be. He's just a fellow creature fulfilling his role in the ecosystem 👍
dinosaurs are cool
The hook-like sickle claws on the feet... something something fishing rod
I swear I'm not turning all my Lifers into hybrids I'm not!! Still plenty normal humans in the mix I swear....... But Etho is such a radical dude, I really wanted to do something more for him. The whole Kitsune thing that I often see associated with him is really cool. I don't actually know the reasoning for it but I assume something something naruto, but also, him being this ancient mythical cryptid who people know so little about, you know? It makes SO much sense. So anyway I turned him into a dinosaur instead rawr
As a herbivore advocate I also considered stuff like the triceratops (known for how they protect themselves and their own) but nah the raptor symbolism...
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irisintheafterglow · 8 months
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Parley? (opla!zoro x you)
summary: a stranger arrives to disturb your peace and you have no choice but to negotiate with him.
wc: 2.57k
cw/tags: first meeting, swearing, mentions of canon-typical violence including blood and swords, zoro doesn't know how to express his feelings
note: i'm so nervous posting this ngl because i really like zoro as a character but i'm scared that i'm not gonna do him justice since i don't know him as well as gojo or geto or bakugo etc etc etc. hopefully all yall zoro girlies like this because i've been itching to write for him since my explore page became nothing but mackenyu. enjoy!
likes, reblogs, and replies are always appreciated <3
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You hear the chimes first. The melody is soft, nearly imperceptible to the untrained ear, but you sense it. After all, you were the one who tied the string under the walkway floorboards in such a way that the bells above your window would clink if something pressed down on the wood. Over time, you learned to identify where outside was being pushed based on more strings and bells. It made it easier to find the Lady, on the rare occasion she stepped into open air and you weren’t with her. However, whoever was now setting off your makeshift alarm system had footsteps unlike the usual occupants of the house. The quietness of the notes was unsettling, in a way, because it meant they were creeping around the house. Someone didn’t want to be heard. 
It was the flowers next, the roses with uniquely reflective petals that were especially good at bouncing moonlight precisely through your window. The Lady commented one day in the market that she’d taken a liking to that particular flower, and you bought the vendor’s entire stock to plant around the house once you realized how it could be used. Not before you built a crow’s nest-like window, first. The glass structure jut out of the house in just the right way that you received colors from the left, right, and front of the house. Had an intruder approached from the back, your only blindspot, you would hear the more insistent clicks of the typewriter keys attached to the outside deck panels. The nearly noiseless bells and the ominous shadow sneaking across your wall were enough to snap you wide awake. 
The soles of your feet meet cool stone as you slide from under the covers, wrapping the sheath of your saber around your waist and slipping out of your bedroom. Despite the darkness of the hallway, your legs move by memory to the Lady’s chambers only to find the door already ajar. 
Shit. Were you too late?
Slinking into the room in one graceful stride, words leave your mouth without thinking when you see him standing over your Lady, holding two deadly-looking swords. 
“Taking a life halfway gone is immoral no matter the bounty, pirate hunter.” His head snaps in your direction and you have your blade on him before he can blink, resting the point lightly but threateningly against his throat. His eyes narrow on you challengingly and you put ever so slightly more pressure into your hilt, forcing him to surrender and sheath both swords. The third, you note, remains undrawn on his hip. “No better targets to pursue than a retiree? I expected better from the demon of the East Blue.” His gaze remains unchanging while you step forward, inching him backward until his head hits the wall with a soft thud. You were thankful, for once, that the Lady was starting to lose her hearing and was always a deep sleeper. 
“She’s wanted,” he says in a low tone. 
“She’s withered,” you retort. “Killing her advances justice no more than leaving her alive.” His face is still unreadable, void of any emotions just as the rumors conveyed. Many tales circulated of the infamous pirate hunter, but you chose to believe the Lady to be far too irrelevant to pose any real threat to the Marines. As one of the last known powerhouses of the Gold Roger era, it was more likely her wanted poster would be drowned out amongst younger hotshot pirates than for her to become an actual target. And yet, here was the most feared bounty hunter in the seas, hunting down a myth that many assumed was already six feet under. And for what, fun? 
“It doesn’t matter. Honor is a courtesy denied to killers.” He speaks in a way like you wouldn’t understand his ideas, and it sends a white-hot flash of anger racing through your veins. 
“Ooh, yes. You’re being so honorable by julienning a defenseless old woman while she sleeps.” To your surprise, he flinches, unwillingly bringing your eyes to corded muscle and flexed biceps. It’s a bit of a struggle to refocus on the task at hand. “Enlighten me on how this makes you feel vindicated.” 
“I kill pirates for a living,” he states simply, nodding over to the slumbering mass under the thick comforter. The tip of your sword follows every movement he makes, careful not to give him an opening to strike. Unexpectedly, he seems almost relaxed, like the weapon at his throat was the least of his worries. “That woman is a pirate.”
“That woman was a pirate. She is no longer the ‘Captain Indigo’ you seek.” 
“Who is she now, then?”
“Lady Lavender, adored by her constituents and far removed from a life of piracy. If I weren’t on the verge of spilling your organs on the carpet, I’d say visit the farmer’s market on Tuesdays. You’ll see just how different her life is now.” His chin tilts in disagreement.
“The Marines say otherwise.”
“What do you say?” A minute tilt of your wrist angles your saber so that the point now resides under his sharply defined jawline. “Hmm, hunter? Any opinions in that thick skull of yours or are you just another mindless government weapon?” 
“You understand nothing,” he mutters like an indignant teenager, looking off to the side woefully. It makes your blood boil.
“Try me,” you snarl at the green-haired stranger. In another life, you’d have thought him pretty handsome, if you weren’t so infuriated by his indifferent sense of justice. He knew nothing about you, or the Lady, or what either of you had to endure to create a sense of safety. Safety, you would add, that you weren’t going to give up easily. 
“This woman you serve, what are you to her? A caretaker? A child?” 
“A friend,” you answer cautiously. “Something your line of work would know nothing about.” 
“The Marines know that your friend murdered the former governor and seized the island in an act of desperation,” he informs you with a note of condescension. “They’ve wanted her gone for ten years, and I am here to collect her head. It’s not personal; it’s business.” The incorrectness of his information is laughable, but what concerns you more is the ease with which he talks of taking lives. 
“You don’t feel any sort of remorse for the targets you kill?” The anger in your stomach starts to rub against a different, unwanted influx of sorrow. After witnessing the change in a ruthless pirate empress, you refused to believe a human could be this heartless. 
“I don’t dwell on them long enough to care. Most of the time, they do something stupid that makes it a little easier to dispose of them.”
“And that’s where you’re wrong about her,” you recover, pressing the blade against his skin on the brink of drawing blood. He winces, squirming against the wallpaper for some sort of relief. You don’t budge. “The former mayor was a half-brother whom she reconnected with after Gold Roger’s execution. His death was caused by a misdosage of medicine used to treat hemorrhoids he’d suffered with since he was twenty. On his deathbed, he made her promise to take care of this city...” You inhale, focusing on the man in front of you. His expression is soft, nothing like you would have expected from a feared killer-for-hire. He was actually listening to you. 
“Go on.”
“And to take care of me. I have the great pirate hunter at the end of my blade, so she must not have done that bad of a job at either request.” He’s silent for a moment and you watch the cogs turn in his brain, hoping he’d find some humanity and realize that killing the Lady isn’t just pointless, it’s fundamentally wrong. 
“It doesn’t change the fact that I need money.” Nevermind, then. Backup plan it is. 
“I understand that,” you concede, and you remove your weapon from his neck. His hands are on the hilts of his swords instantly, but he doesn’t draw them. He could kill both you and the Lady in a single swing, but he doesn’t. Maybe you did reach a different side of him. “That's why I’m willing to cut you a deal.”
“I don’t make deals with pirat–” he starts, but abruptly cuts himself off when you raise your eyebrows in expectation. Did you not learn anything from what I just told you? His face contorts in confusion, as if his mind was at odds with what his body was telling him to do. After carefully schooling his expression into blankness, he stands to his full height, rolling a broad shoulder. “What’s the deal?”
“You’re aware of the Blue Ringed crew, yes?”
“Famous for their poisons, I’ve heard,” he confirms and you nod. “They cover every inch of their ship in toxins and wear special clothing to prevent contact with their skin. Makes it hard to sneak up on them.”
“Exactly. See, you’re not as uneducated as you look,” you tease and you feel your face heat when he sticks his tongue out at you. It’s so boyish and immature, in stark contrast to the handsome, god-bodied man that faces you. “I happen to have a counteragent, enough for you to get on their ship and collect three times the amount if you killed us tonight.” 
“And what would you get in return?”
“The sound of your boots walking off the property and never returning,” you whisper a little desperately, pleading with him to leave your perfect peace intact and forget this altercation ever happened. The quiet in the room as he ponders your offer is suffocating save for the gentle snores of Lady Lavender. Eventually, he takes your deal, inspecting the powder-filled vial when you bring it to him on the front porch. 
“How do I use it if it’s powder?”
“Mix it with lotion to help soak it faster into your skin. When your skin is dry, you’ll have roughly an hour to navigate the boat completely immune to the poison. It’s sweat resistant but will wash off with seawater, so take care not to get thrown overboard,” you instruct him, crossing your arms across your chest against the chilly ocean air blowing in from the south. It was breezier than normal and you regret not grabbing a sweater. Unless you wanted to freeze your ass off, you needed to finish this debacle quickly. “Kill the pirates, get your bounty, and leave us the hell alone. Deal?” 
“Fine by me.” He carefully places the vial in the pocket of his pants and begins his descent down the front walkway. Before you can turn back into the house, however, his voice reaches your ears so lightly you think you’d hallucinated it. “Stay warm.” 
He doesn’t end up keeping his side of the deal. A few days after your initial altercation, he approaches the house again in broad daylight holding a box about the size of your hand. You stare at him in disbelief, reading in the nook of your window and he has the audacity to smirk at you when he spots you looking. 
“I thought we had a deal, pirate hunter,” you remind him when you open the front door of the house. It was infuriating how good he looked for having just returned from a pursuit, dressed up in fine fabrics with his hair combed back nicely. The irony was palpable, the situation not unlike the stories the Lady told you about the numerous men who attempted to court her. They appeared at the same front door with flowers, rubies, and promises of devotion, but none of them actually wanted her heart. In contrast, you wanted to stab the heart of the idiot in front of you. 
“Stop calling me that,” he frowns and you can’t help the laugh that leaves your mouth. “My name is Roronoa Zoro–”
“Oh, sorry,” you interject and his eyebrows furrow at your lack of manners. “Am I just supposed to act like you’re my friend now? After you tried to kill my boss?” 
“I thought we were past that,” he states bluntly.
“That was four days ago.” 
“It’s enough time to move on.”
“You’re impossible.” You shake your head in disbelief, slightly puzzled at the giddy feeling in your chest when the faintest smile appears on his face. “What’s that?” You gesture to the rosewood box in his fingers. 
“Consider it an apology,” he says, holding out the box for you to take, “for bothering you the other night.” 
“How chivalrous.” You eye the box warily, still unsure about the enigmatic bounty hunter before you. “But we don’t need nor want your money.”
“It’s not money. Just open the damn box,” he grunts impatiently and you begrudgingly oblige, sliding back the top panel to reveal a bracelet. It wasn’t like any other bracelet you’d seen before, a gold chain garnished with a single deep green emerald barely the size of your pinky fingernail. It was delicate and elegant, subtle enough not to draw attention but luxurious enough to make you feel spoiled. “Do you like it?”
“I do, actually. The color is pretty,” you reply slowly, still slightly in shock. “Why green?”
“Take a wild guess.” He smirks again and your gaze flicks up to his hair. It was just as vibrant as the gemstone and he watched you carefully as the pieces clicked into place. With the bracelet, you’d be forced to think of him every time you looked at it or anything the color green. What kind of guy buys a momento for almost killing you, you had no idea.
“You didn’t need to bring me this. I thought the deal was–”
“I remember what the deal was, but I felt bad making you stand outside shivering while you explained how the counteragent functioned.” Your eyes widen slightly at his admission. He noticed you reacting to the wind, so how intensely was he watching you that night? If he sees your surprise, he doesn’t comment on it and continues to explain why he brought you the gift in the first place. “The powder worked, by the way. I snagged this from the captain’s chambers on my way out.” 
“You stole this because you saw me get cold?” He merely shrugs, clearly unbothered. 
“I mean, yeah. You looked miserable.”
“I was miserable.” He smiles slightly again, the corner of his mouth quirking in amusement. It makes your heart stutter against your wishes. “Does this mean we’re even now, pirate hunter?”
“Call me Zoro and maybe I’ll consider it.”
“You’ll consider it?” 
“Holding a sword to someone’s throat is a major transgression that can’t be forgiven so easily,” he taunts and you roll your eyes. “Let me start over, meet you properly without the involvement of weapons.”
“You really want to see me again?” He scoffs at your question as if the answer wasn't crystal clear.
“What, bringing you a bracelet wasn’t obvious enough? I’ll have to bring the entire ship next time. Might take a little longer to get back to you.”
“Get off my porch, Roronoa Zoro,” you laugh, reaching out to push his shoulder away and feeling every inch of his skin against your fingers in the brief moment your bodies touch. “Don’t come back unless you have something important to say.” 
“I think you’ll soon find out what I prioritize as important.”
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smuthospital · 5 months
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⭐️Degrees of lewdly: Eden⭐️
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Premise: You're a spooky place youtube explorer, and you get lost in a big scary forest! Eden voorhees lol. Reader is fem. Enjoy!
Art by Minagami
Re-upload because tumblr took it down last time.
Content Warning: Non-con, kidnapping, tummy bulge, blood, Eden is Jason, Voorhees
Miners DNI
You've never really gone hiking before and it's proven itself to be a lot more difficult than you originally thought it would be. You like to explore places you've never been, spooky places. more for the thrill. you started filming it and posting your videos on youtube. You usually take some friends along, but all of your friends decided to be little babies this time since the place you're exploring is extra creepy this time. It's a large forest 20 miles away from your city. You borrowed your mom's car to get here. you always tell them you're at a friend's house because they'd kill you if they ever found out you're putting yourself in possibly harmful situations. This forest is known for creepy sightings, disappearances, ghosts, and lots of other things your viewers would love to watch. You've been to abandoned hospitals, cemeteries, tunnels, all that good stuff. You don't think you'll actually see anything, but you brought a can of pepper spray just in case.
The wind howls, making the trees dance above you. The shapes that were once branches in the day have turned into long gangly fingers that desperately reach for you and the bushes now house entities with red eyes and fangs that you imagine want to tear you to pieces! "Wow, guys. This might just be the scariest one yet, haha. There's probably some sort of scp in here with me haha!" You try to keep yourself company by talking to your soon-to-be viewers when you post this, but it's really just to keep you calm.
"I'm a bit lost. The trail kinda disappeared somewhere around here, I think. there's just so much long grass and it's more of a footpath than an actual trail." you complain as you try to spot any familiar landmarks. It's almost impossible. It might be easier in the day for sure, but the night masks everything. You step over decayed logs and large roots, feeling worry set in. What if you're really lost!? Your thoughts come to an abrupt stop when you hear a strange sound not too far from where you're standing. Your blood freezes as you feel a cold sweat coming on. Maybe...maybe it's a person? And maybe they can help you?..or..a monster!? No, (Y/n), this is no time to be silly! That could be a person willing to help you before you get yourself completely lost!
Little did you know you were already a mile deep, walking in the wrong direction.
“I heard a sound. It could be someone who could help me get back on track.” You whisper. You turn off your video camera's flash light and carefully make your way to where you heard the sound, being careful not to step on anything that could alert whatever it is of your presence. You don’t want to startle it, just in case it's an animal willing to protect its territory from invaders like yourself. The sound came from below you. There's a rocky slope leading down to a river. You get down on your knees and peer between the long grass. You can't make out much in the dim moonlight... until you spot a giant of a man dragging a sack through the shallow water. His size alone sends shivers down your spine. Even from where you're crouching, you could tell he would dwarf you the way a cat would to a mouse. You examine him a bit more.The sack is stained in a dark colour that is seeping through the fabric and into the water. You don't dare move a muscle or even breathe. You can't believe your eyes. This can't be real. Are you in a horror movie?
You make sure he disappears behind the tree line with the mysterious sack before letting out a breath. You didn't want to accidentally alert him of your presence in any shape or form. He was probably just a hunter. Yeah, he could have helped you, but he also could have added you to the wet sack and you were not risking that.
You stand up and turn around, ready to get as far away from here as possible, only to bump your nose into a tree. The collision causes you to drop your camera. That's strange. You don't remember walking around a tree to look over the cliff. You rub your nose in annoyance. Wait a minute... This tree didn't have rough bark like the rest of them...Your brain blanks out. You've been in denial this entire time, your brain working extra hard to rationalize what's happening. Before you is a large torso. You can't even see their shoulders from how close you're standing, just a wide, firm chest. You crane your neck up and it takes you a good three seconds before your brain registers that you're looking at the man from before..and he's wearing a mask!
He looks down at you with a focused gaze. You let out a short scream and try to run away, but being within arm's reach of the giant makes it too easy for him to simply reach out and grab the back of your top. He lifts you off your feet with one arm and brings you to his eye level. He cocks his head to the side, observing you slowly. He looks down at the camera you dropped and places his large boot on it, pressing down and crushing it. You start to hyperventilate. He's gonna chop you up and wear your skin, he's gonna keep you in a dark hole and shout "It rubs the lotion on its skin or else it gets the hose again!" You thrash in his iron grip, pushing at his large hand and sobbing untellable pleas for mercy, but your begging falls on deaf ears. "I-I'm sorry. I-I'll leave, I promise! Please let me go! I-I didn't mean to bother you, I'm sorry!" You cry. Your little struggle seems to have made your shirt ride up a bit, showcasing your supple flesh to his thirsty eyes. His eyes laser focus on your bare skin.
To your confusion, his hand reaches to caress your skin, feeling the smooth texture before slowly moving up. You wiggle more, scared of where this is going. His hand soon finds your breast and cups it before giving it a squeeze. He shudders. His breathing becomes heavier as he continues to mess with your body, his thumb rolling over your nipple. All you can do is whimper and wiggle in his hold. his hand begins sliding down and you scream. You suddenly remember you brought a can of pepper spray, whipping it out of your back pocket and pointing it at his face. Then as you were about to press down and unleash the fire juice, it was gone. In his hand that was previously molesting you lies the remains of your poor pepper spray, crushed and bubbling pathetically. He was so fast you hadn't even realized he snatched it. You just stare at him in horror. To your surprise, he's not even mad, too preoccupied with the need to explore your privates. You hold his wrist and look into his eyes. He looks back into yours as if telling you to stop. You hesitantly let go, and he nods as if to tell you that you've made the right decision. His hand cups your pussy through your jeans, pressing in a bit at the entrance. He seems eager.
He lifts you higher and uncomfortably sets you on his shoulder, his hand on your ass to keep you in place. You don't even bother struggling. You'll wait for an opportunity. If this man wanted you dead, you'd be dead. You don't want to provoke him. From your spot on his shoulder, You notice that he's got a hunting rifle strapped to his back along with a machete. He has an assortment of things attached to his hips among them being a hunting knife and bullet pocket. You shiver. One more off-putting thing that's just about forcing bile up your throat is that he's also covered in a dark wet liquid. You haven't noticed till now, but you haven't been breathing so his smell has now come to your attention. He smells strongly of iron. To that, you're not very surprised.
He starts marching down the hill you were previously watching him from. You have no idea how you saw him disappear through the treeline and he still managed to sneak up on you. He picks up the large stained sack where he left it in favor of locating his little spying mouse. It smells awful, the meaty smell assaulting your senses every second. It's been 15 minutes and an opportunity to escape has not shown itself. This is it. This is how you die. Your body will never be found. Maybe in a few years in a shallow grave by some hiker if you're lucky. This inhuman mass of muscle is going to cut you up and eat you. Maybe even skip cutting you up. He could probably eat you whole as pre-workout. He lifts his leg to step over a large log, his grip on your ass slightly loosening just enough for you to catch him off guard and slip off his shoulder. You grunt as you fall into the dirt and leaves behind him. You scramble up before the giant can scoop you up. You run in a random direction. You just needed to get away from him, getting out of the forest was a problem for later. You didn't even think about how fast he'd be. How could someone be so big and fast!? He took off after you and suddenly, he was on your ass. You've never felt such a primal fear as he chased you like a hungry animal.
A large hand grabs your shoulder and rips you backwards. You fall on your back and stare up at the man now on his knees in front of you, his body completely casting a shadow before yours. He gets down on his hands, caging you too the ground, his body inches above yours. You stare into the holes of his mask and into his rabid eyes. He leans in by your neck. You stop breathing once again, you think your heart stopped. You feel something large and hard pressing roughly into your crotch. You hear him take a deep breath and smell you..."Smells nice." His voice is deep and rough, but it sounds like he rarely uses it. You scream and begin to cry again, not being able to take it anymore. You fight him with all your might. He grabs your wrists with one hand. You hear him chuckle a bit before his hand comes up to cup your check. He suddenly squeezes it and twists your face around to get a better look at your features. He grinds his hips against yours, teasing you of what's to come. He roughly releases your face, before standing to his full height and dragging you up with him. He tosses you back over his shoulder, this time with an almost bone-crushing grip. “Name.” His tone is commanding. When you fail to answer right away, his fingers press into the area on your crotch. Threatening to rip right through. “(Y/n)! My name is (Y/n)!” He hums in response.
Hot tears run down your cheeks as he walks back over to where he left his murder mystery sack. He navigates through the forest as he knows it like the back of his hand until he comes upon a clearing where his home stands. A lonely wooden cabin. He drops the gooey meat bag on the ground. You cringe at the wet sound it makes on impact. You peer over at the sack to see a human hand flop out. Before you could react, he slams his hand over your mouth painfully. "Shut up." He waits for you to nod before removing his hand. He opens his front door and steps inside. It smells musty, like old wood and man smell. Not bad, but not amazing either. He walks up his stairs and sets you on a very large bed. You take a deep breath in, your stomach sore from being jabbed by his shoulder for the entirety of the long walk.
He doesn't let you get comfortable though. His hands are on you in an instant, grabbing your clothes and ripping them to shreds like tissue paper, you're naked before you could even hold any of your clothes together. Hungry eyes leer over you through his mask. You feel his hot breath fan you through the bottom of his mask. "S-stop it, please! Don't hurt me!" You beg. As if to mock your plea, his rough hand grips your plush thigh a little too close to your cunt and squeezes it tightly before shoving it against your chest, making room for himself between them.
He releases you for a moment, only to unzip his uncomfortably tight pants. You shut your eyes and look away, only to feel the soul-crushing weight of his cock slam against your lower stomach. You writhe underneath him, small sobs and hiccups coming from your mouth every few seconds. He pauses for a moment but ultimately decides to continue. You peer up between your wet palms and see him rubbing the tree trunk between his thighs while looking down at your pathetic form.
"W-wait! I-I'm not rea-" He grabs your thighs and forces you closer to him and lines his cock up with your entrance, he slides it up and down your folds, causing you to shudder. He doesn't care if you're ready or not. You shut your eyes as he presses forth. You scream in pain. It won't go in. You're too tight, he's too big and you're dry. The tip can't even get through. You whimper in pain. It burns. You need moisture. He lifts his mask a bit and you get a peek of his jaw. It's noticeably sharp and covered in stubble. You feel his saliva plap against your poor dry cunt before he puts his mask back into place. He tries to enter you again. You yelp. He gets a bit through before he can't anymore. He sighs. He was trying to be gentle. He didn't want to break you so quickly...
He grips your thighs tightly. You feel his nails dig in. You barely have time to register the pain before you feel like you're being ripped in two. He's forcing his way in. You immediately let out a scream and begin spazzing. He just continues until he reaches his base, more than snug against your insides. Drool leaks past the corner of your lip as you stare off into space. He breathes heavily and stares at the bulge he created in your lower stomach. He brushes his hand over it and watches as you whimper and twitch. He pulls his hips back and watches it disappear before ramming himself in again and seeing it jab through your insides. He chuckles.
You lay there, unable to do anything but feel what he's doing to you. You lift your arm and place it on his lower stomach, hoping to stop him that way. You feel his rock-hard abs through his shirt and push. "You're...adorable...fuck.. you're tight." He groans before he slams himself deep inside and you clench around him. He hisses and struggles to pull out halfway, your insides trying to pull him back in. He slams in again and presses himself as deeply as he can, firmly hugging your cervix with his cock. Your eyes cross as he thrusts in and out, keeping a proper pace. Moans spill from your lips along with jumbled-up words he can't make out, all of which sound like music to his ears.
He leans over you, forcing himself snugly against you again, his mask right next to your cheek. He groans as he feels you twitch around him. "Feel..so good... was worried you'd rip... you're only bleeding a little." You can hear the smug grin in his tone.
It feels so good. You're so ashamed, feeling good when you're being raped by a maniac. You clench your tear-filled eyes as he pounds into your aching cunt. The knot in your lower stomach bursts as you cum. He moans as you tighten around him. He stills for a second, just enjoying how you feel before he pounds into you like a feral beast. You're surprised your pelvis is holding up. He grips your waist tight and grunts as he empties his balls deep inside you. You can almost feel yourself getting pregnant. You feel too full. Your stomach bloats with cum. You feel hot and fuzzy. Your pussy is so very sore and your legs are numb. He pants above you. "I've been thinking of getting myself a little wife like you." He says as he slowly pulls his still throbbing cock out with a wet 'pop'. "You're a pretty little thing and you take my cock well. Be grateful I'm letting you live as my cock sleeve." He stands up, towering over your crumpled body once again. "My name is Eden. Your duties from now on are cooking, cleaning, mending my clothes and taking my seed. Do not make me repeat these orders. Object and I won't hesitate to remind you of your place. I was gentle this time." His giant cock is still dripping your juices. You can't stop looking at it. Ge takes notice and climbs over you before grabbing your head and forcing you close to his groin. "I see you love cock. Lick it clean then like a good wife. go on."
You look up at him and hesitate a bit too long. You see anger flash in his eyes and you quickly envelop his tip in your mouth. He groans as you lick your mixed juices off, going as deep as you can without choking. He moans and grabs the back of your head. He stares down at you with such intensity that you can feel him burning holes into you. You suddenly feel your throat being invaded and your nose pressing into his pubic hair, nose pressing into his crotch. He moves you back and forth, face fucking you. You struggle to breathe properly through your nose. You let out muffled whimpers and cries, sending vibrations through his cock. He grunts in pleasure before you feel a load of hot thick liquid being shot into your mouth and down your throat. You're so tired. He slowly pulls his cock back and laughs at your exhausted state. Your head flops back onto the bed, your jaw and lips so incredibly sore and raw feeling. "Good girl." He says before your sight fades to black. You explored a bit too much.
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zepskies · 7 months
Note
OMG I KEED A PART 2 TO SAM HAVING A CRUSH ON DEANS GF
Like idk maybe say Sam didn't listen to Dean and tried making a move on reader? Like ofc he wouldn't ever do that *I don't think* but in this hypothetical scenerio it happens
Hey hun!
Oooof, that's hard. You guys really like this angsty love triangle stuff, huh? 😂 I genuinely think Sam would rather saw off his own hand than hurt Dean that way. But this is like, the only thing I could think of on this one. 😅
See this imagine for context: You are Dean's one exception.
Pairing: Dean W. x Reader, one-sided Sam W. x Reader Word Count: 1,100
Imagine: Sam crosses the line.
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Goddamn witches.
That's the last coherent thought Sam has, before his mind is no longer completely his to control.
Well, it's still his mind. His body. But the careful door in his mind and in his heart, reinforced with steel and chained shut with titanium, combo-coded, locked and loaded, now has broken hinges.
Thoughts he hasn't allowed himself to think for months are pried open, with a sick kind of enjoyment in pain.
You're his brother's girl. Sam can't help but love you. He wants you. And now, he might be able to have you.
The witch is dead, but the spell she just hit Sam with remains. He's not dead, so that's a plus.
"Are you okay?" you ask him, slightly breathless. You're the closest to where he's sprawled on the ground, so you go to him. You touch his arm, and he can't help but clamp down on your hand. He looks at you with the thinly veiled eyes of a hunter as he smiles. Because your concern reaches the deepest parts of him.
"I'm fine," he says.
But Dean reads the hunger in his brother's eyes. He's subtle in the way he grasps your shoulder and Sam's (noticeably tighter).
"But what happened? How do you feel?" you ask, trying to take stock of what you're all dealing with here.
"I uh...feel fine, actually," Sam says. He rolls his shoulders. His gaze focuses on you. Dean holds him back from getting off the ground.
"Get the book. See if there's a way to fix this," Dean tells you without taking his eyes off Sam.
Sam tilts his head at Dean, the beginning of an angry frown on his lip as you rush away to find the witch's spell book.
"What's the matter, Dean?" Sam asks. He doesn't bother to lower his voice. (He literally doesn't have a filter anymore.) "Afraid of what might happen when she actually has the chance to choose?"
Dean's lips purse as his eyes darken. "This isn't you. And when you wake up from this, you're either gonna hate yourself for even thinkin' what you're thinkin', or you're gonna have one hell of a headache."
Sam stares back incredulously. He scoffs. "What're you gonna do, kill me?" They both know that's not happening.
But that's also when Dean knocks him the hell out.
When Sam wakes, it's to you stuffing tissues in his bloody nose. He groans a bit. He looks at you and still wants. But when he looks down at himself, he's in the bunker, handcuffed to the war room table.
You look worried for him as you go back to your side of the table with the book. Dean is oddly nowhere in sight. Sam thought he'd be watching you (and Sam) like a hawk.
"Dean'll be back in a sec. He's trying to get ahold of Rowena," you supply. "But how're you feeling? What's the spell doing to you exactly?"
Sam rolls the kinks out of his neck and removes the tissues, even though his entire face radiates with pain. His brother once promised to break his nose, and he did just that.
"Basically? I think it took away my inhibitions," he replies. More like threw them in a blender and put his deepest, headiest desires into overdrive.
You frown. "Like a really bad bender, or a truth serum kind of thing? But why would he punch you out for that?"
Your gears are turning rapidly, weighing out all the options. You always were smart. Sam leans forward slowly. Noting your thread of wariness, his face softens. He doesn't want to scare you...
He sighs. "Listen...there's something I've been wanting to tell you for a while now."
He reaches out a hand. You're looking at him in frozen surprise. His curled fingers brush your cheek. He leans in toward your face.
But you flinch and pull away.
"What the hell are you doing?" you ask.
Sam should've known, but it still hurts him. His jaw clenches. The spell takes away his self-preservation, however.
Just as he might've tried with words to finally confess the depths of his heart, the door creaks open.
The sound of Dean's heavy boots approaching makes him flinch. But Sam looks over with an unrepentant stare.
Dean glances at Rowena, nostrils flaring. "Fix him." He gestures at Sam before he joins you on your side of the table, resting a protective hand on your back.
Rowena shoots him a droll look. "Only because you asked so nicely."
"I don't need fixing!" Sam argues, glaring at Dean. His voice echoes on the bunker's walls. "You're just afraid of what happens if she knows the truth!"
Your eyes widen further. You look from Sam, to your boyfriend. Dean's jaw is clenched tight.
"Okay, what the fuck is going on?!" you ask in earnest. Dean meets your gaze for a moment, his face tense. His reluctant eyes communicate to you things you never knew. Things that clog emotion in your throat. Dean turns back to Sam.
"Don't do this, Sammy. It don't end well for you," Dean says.
"Like hell," Sam retorts.
"Okay, sleep now, dear," Rowena says. And with a wave of her hand and a haze of violet, Sam's world once again blackens.
When he next wakes, he's in his own bed. Not restrained. He indeed has a massive headache, and it's hard to breathe through his still broken nose. He groans and turns, and his brother is there.
When the overwhelming guilt sets in, Sam knows he's himself again, with all the careful walls around his heart put back in place. Rowena must've broken the spell when he was unconscious. Dean can see the truth in Sam's eyes.
"There he is," Dean remarks dryly. "Our giant Jekyll and Hyde."
Sam inhales deeply. "Dean..." I'm sorry doesn't quite cut it.
"She knows," Dean says, after a moment. "Obviously."
Sam nods, swallowing past a lump in his throat. He hesitates to ask the next burning question, because part of him knows the answer.
"It doesn't change anything."
Sam's head turns at the sound of your voice. You stand in the doorway, with your arms crossed despite the disheartened look on your face. Your eyes meet his, steady and sad, but firm.
"I know," Sam says, with a small, self-deprecating smile. "I'm sorry...for all this."
"It's not your fault," you reply. Spell or no spell, the way he feels is not his fault.
You step into the bedroom and go to Sam's bedside, laying a hand on Dean's shoulder. That hand smoothes up his neck, and your fingers briefly thread into his hair. Another silent conversation passes between you and Dean, the way only lovers that close can accomplish.
After a beat, Dean nods and gets up out of his chair. He thumbs at your cheek; it's both an answer to your unspoken request and an endearment. Then he pats Sam's shoulder before he leaves you and Sam alone in the room.
Trust. That's what that is. Dean trusts you, and now that the spell has worn off, he trusts Sam again.
Sam meets your gaze. As awful as he feels, he still loves you. He knows you know by the way your gaze meets his.
All he wants to do is touch you.
To apologize, and to touch you.
He hates himself.
You shake your head. "I love you, Sam. As my friend. My brother."
"I know," he nods. "I'm sorry."
"You don't have to be sorry," you reply. "You just have to respect that."
"'Course, I do," Sam nods again. You would've never known, if not for the damn spell.
You surprise him by taking his hand. Yours is soft and warm and kind.
Always kind...
But never truly his to hold.
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AN: GAH! The Angst. You could bottle it. 😩
Want to know what that conversation was like between Dean and the reader after she "found out?"
Read It Here: You and Dean talk about Sam's feelings.
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Dean Winchester Imagines
Dean Winchester Masterlist
Main Masterlist
Dean W. Tag List:
@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @roseblue373 @this-is-me19 @emily-winchester @spnexploration @deans-spinster-witch @deans-baby-momma @iprobablyshipit91
@melancholictearz @nic-kolas @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @thewritersaddictions @just-levyy @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @antisocialcorrupt @lacilou @adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman @brianochka @branj19
@agalliasi @venicesem @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @xsophianicolex @deansbbyx @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @ultrahviolentart @chernayawidow @beskarfilms @mimaria420
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nerdofspades · 1 year
Text
Bruce looked at the pop-up on the Batcomputer's screen.
"Explain," he growled, glancing down at Tim.
"Not much to explain," Tim answered, pulling up lines of code. "It showed up ten seconds ago."
"I'm starting a full diagnostic," Barbara said, voice filtering through the speakers. "So far, I'm not seeing anything."
"And yet..." Time trailed off glancing at the window again. It had a video queued up to play and the words "IMPORTANT: PLEASE WATCH. DO NOT DELETE" in large text at the top.
"There's a new folder labeled 'a gift for Batman,'" Tim said. "Not something any of us made."
"Clearly."
"I'm still not finding any viruses, corrupted files, or spyware," Oracle said. "The new folder was programmed to stay in a hidden partition for a few days after it was placed. Then, obviously, the pop-up to catch our attention."
"Folder also has a text file named 'security notes,'" Tim said. "Maybe our new hacker is friendly?"
"It's starting to look like it," Oracle agreed. "The video is clean. It should be safe to watch."
Bruce sighed. "Then let's see what they've got for us."
-
The video opened with a dark room. The background hidden in shadows, while the foreground was well lit, letting them clearly see the tired teen in the center of the frame as he took a heavy swig from his mug before putting it down.
"Pulling up facial recognition."
He ran a hand through his messy black hair and then down his face, pinching his nose and hiding the bags under his blues eyes for a moment before he dropped his hand and finally looked at the camera.
"I really don't want to do this," he said, "but you need it." He glanced longingly off screen in the direction of the mug he'd put down.
"First of all, I think I should apologize for hacking you. Or asking my friend to, technically. I just. You need to know about this and I didn't know of another way to get it to you that would be secure.
"I did at least make him promise to make a record of how he got in so you can patch that.
"That out of the way... to business? I'm Danny Fenton, for the last year or so I have also been the hero Phantom in Amity Park. My parents are Jack and Maddie Fenton. They are ectobiologists and ghost hunters. While extremely biased and not actually that good at catching ghosts, their tech is easily the best in the business."
"That's a positive match."
"Running a search on Phantom."
"I- fucking shit." Danny put his head in his hands again, running them back through his hair before leaning back, almost collapsing into the chair.
"This kid has... gotten into some shit."
"Everyone knows you're the League's strategist, Batman. And. I'm strong enough. I can handle my problems, that's not what I'm worried about.
"It's been about a year and I've already been mind controlled once." Danny laughed. A dry, broken, almost desperate laugh. "And that was just some lowlife that wanted to rob jewelry stores. I'm still not worried about. It's not why I'm sending you this. The magic relic he used is broken and gone now."
"Well that explains one of his problems."
"The others?"
"An attempted kidnapping and fairly standard property damage. I want to see some footage of those fights before passing judgement."
"Even more standard given he doesn't seem to have a mentor. Batman, he was fourteen."
"No. I. I've seen a version of the future. One where I go mad. Where I snap. And the Justice League can't stop me.
"I don't know if I- he kills everyone. I don't know who, if anyone, makes it out. But it's not anyone that could really do much. I... I saw ten years after he- I snapped. Earth was little more than rubble and ash. Only one city was left holding out and it was about to fall- was falling when I got there.
"I've managed to change the time line. What broke him didn't happen here. But. I can't guarantee nothing ever could.
"So. Yeah. Next best thing is making sure you're prepared. All my powers. All my weaknesses. Everything I know of that could possibly hurt me. Schematics and blue prints for anything you could need to fight me, track me, keep me out, keep me contained. All nice and giftwrapped for your convenience.
"Uh... that's everything. Why is it always so awkward to end a video? Hopefully we never see each other? I guess? Pretty sure us actually meeting is gonna be a bad sign.
"You know what. I'm gonna turn this thing off now before I say something stupid."
-
"Batman, who's 'Phantom'?" Superman asked, glancing up from the Watchtower computer he was working at. "Aren't we supposed to vote on new members?"
Batman grunted. "He's not a member, just someone who understands the need for contingencies."
"You know what, I'm not gonna even ask."
"Probably for the best."
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glorystark · 2 months
Text
Empty eyes | Dean Winchester x Reader
Summary: Dean doesn't take Charlie's death too well and because of the Mark of Cain affecting him, he tells you things that will regret.
Warnings: moc!Dean Winchester, Dean being a dick, minor mentions of injury, swearing, ANGST, major character's death
Pairing: Dean Winchester × reader
Featuring: Sam Winchester
Word count: 2,3k
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We watched in agony as Charlie's body, wrapped around a white sheet, burned in the flames. This should never have happened to her kind soul. She died so we could save Dean. I couldn't help but feel guilty; my heart ached because I lost a friend, again. I knew Sam felt the same. We both asked Charlie for help with the Book of the Damned, and we both lied to Dean about the book being destroyed. Now it was too late to make things right. Memories flashed through my eyes, making me tear up. I remembered when she helped us with the Dick situation, or when I taught her some hunter-kind-of-tricks. How happy she was and wouldn't stop thanking me. She didn't deserve this, anyone but her.
“Charlie,” Sam started, grabbing my and probably Dean's attention. “We are gonna miss you. You're the best.” He stopped when his voice cracked, and now I was sure he felt far worse than me because looking back, he suggested not telling Dean about the Book of the Damned not being destroyed, which I didn't agree with at first. But seeing Dean, my Dean, slowly fade away right in front of my eyes changed my opinion. Maybe it was selfish, me and Sam both were. But we couldn't let Dean become something he fears, a Monster. We couldn't lose another person, another family member, but we didn't realize who we were putting in danger on this path.
“We love you, Charlie, and I'm so sorry,” I said, blinking through tears.
“Shut up,” Dean said coldly, making Sam and me look at him. “You got her killed. You don't get to apologize.” He continued.
“Dean-“ Sam started, but Dean cut him off.
“You too, you two are the reason she is dead,” he said, not taking his eyes off the flames.
“We were trying to help you,” I said, still looking at him.
“I didn't need help,” he said bitterly. "I told you to leave it alone.”
“What were we supposed to do, just watch you die?” Sam asked, not letting me be the only one receiving the cold tone from his older brother.
“The mark isn't gonna kill me.”
“Maybe not, but when it's done with you, you won't be you anymore,” I stated. “Dean, you're all we got. So of course we were gonna fight for you because that's what we do,” I said softly.
“Yeah, she's right, we had a shot-“ Sam was cut off again by Dean.
“Yeah, you had a shot. Charlie is dead.” He finally turned his head to look at me and his brother, who was standing next to me. His dark emerald eyes bore into mine, and I couldn't recognize them. Never have I ever seen him look at me with those eyes. Because no matter how much crap we went through, he always made sure I was fine, and his eyes held nothing but sweetness and, on most occasions, worry. “Nice shot.”
“Are you even listening to me? You think I'm ever gonna forgive myself for that?!” I snapped, not being able to keep my voice down anymore. He is grieving, but so am I. If I could, I would trade places with her.
“You know what I think,” he started, still with the same voice tone. “I think it should be you up there and not her.”
I felt my heart break for the hundredth time today. I parted my lips, not taking my teary eyes off him, which clearly showed how hurt I was. Sam let out a small gasp and widened his eyes after he heard Dean's words, clearly not expecting his brother to go that far.
I knew he blamed me, probably even more than Sam. But knowing that he wanted me dead hurt more than any physical torture I've experienced.
Sam called his name, still shocked after what he heard, but his brother just walked away, breaking my heart more and more.
—————
It has been a week since I lost Charlie, since I lost my Dean. He has been searching for the Stynes ever since but has been having a bit of trouble finding their location. So meanwhile, he went on a few solo hunts. He hasn't said a word to me and to Sam, just a few like ‘buy some beers’ ‘did you find anything about the Stynes’.
He found another hunt for today and was packing his bag in his own room. We both haven't stepped in our shared room ever since the accident, which meant we weren't even sleeping on the same bed. I'm done with being ignored, so I knocked on his door and opened it without waiting for any response. He didn't even turn around, probably knowing it was me.
“Dean,” I called his name, not even knowing what I wanna talk about, but getting him to look at me was the first step. “Dean,” I called, this time louder, and when he still didn't turn around, I walked towards him and grabbed his arm. “Alright, I'm done. When will you finally stop ignoring me?!”
He looked at my hand, which was grabbing his arm, and slowly turned around, finally looking at my face. “I'm not ignoring you, I just don't want to talk to you or be near you,” he said bitterly, pulling his arm away and reaching for his door.
“Dean, you know you're not the only one who lost someone, okay? And believe me, I know it's my fault she's gone, and I'll never forgive myself for that. But, god, you're practically killing me. I miss you,” I said desperately, waiting for something in his eyes to change, waiting for him to embrace me in his strong arms, but... Nothing. His eyes didn't even hold hatred anymore, just emptiness.
“I don't know what you expect me to say, ‘I'm sorry you were so stupid’ ‘I'm sorry you got another person killed off’ ‘I'm sorry you're so fucking useless’ Huh?! Is that what you want me to say? You want me to feel sorry for you?!” he yelled, showing the anger and darkness in his eyes while he harshly slammed me to the wall, making me whimper slightly. His words cut deep into my skin, but I tried my best to ignore them, knowing this Dean wasn't really my Dean.
“I want you to understand, I want you to know that I'm sorry. I want you to tell me that we're gonna go through this like we always do,” I said softly, looking deeply into his eyes, trying to crack him.
He let out a dark chuckle and grasped my shoulders, lowering his head to be on the same height level with me. “You want me to tell you that we're gonna go through this? Well, baby, in that way, I'd be a big liar.”
“Dean, me and Sam, we are so close to saving you. Please, just don't let the mark control you,” I begged, feeling small under his touch.
“I don't want nor need you two saving me, and believe me, at this very moment, I'm trying to not let the mark control me, so don't provoke me,” he whispered against my ear, sending shivers down my spine.
"I thought you trusted me.”
“Well, that trust was destroyed when you got someone who was like a sister to me killed. Have you ever noticed how many innocent people died because you were being too stupid?” he said harshly.
"We all have made mistakes, Dean," I said, as I thought about the hunts where innocent people died, and I couldn't save them. I didn't want Dean to know how much his words were affecting me, but, god, I felt like a crumpled paper.
“Seems like that's the only thing you ever do,” he smirked, letting his eyes fall on the floor again before looking up at my eyes again. “Tell me, how does it feel knowing you don't mean anything to anybody and you're just a burden in our lives? How does it feel knowing nobody loves you?”
That's it. That was the punch line to make me break into tears.
“Y-you love me, you said that before.”
“You know I lie to get laid,” he said, smirking, proud of his response.
My heart was racing more and more, and I felt nauseous.
“Dean, please-“
“You're nothing, do you hear me? Nothing!” he grabbed my cheeks harshly. “Your existence doesn't matter. You.don't.matter.” he said, spitting the words out before letting me go. He took his bag and walked out of the room, not even glancing at me. I slid down the wall as I started sobbing silently.
Then I heard a buzz from my phone.
New message from Sammy:
“Y/N, Dean just said he found a hunt, probably three to four werewolves, and he told me to go with him. I was really surprised but didn't question him. I think he's getting better. I'll also talk to him on the road. Next time, he'll definitely ask you too, just like old times. Don't stay up and don't worry; we got this :) love you.”
He asked Sam to go, but not me. If he hadn't told me that he hated me a few minutes ago, I'd think he was worried. But if it was really 3 or 4 werewolves, there's nothing to be worried about. He just wants to stay away from me. He told me I was a burden to them; he'll probably throw me out of the bunker soon.
Dark thoughts ran through my mind, and suddenly a rush of anxiety ran through me. What if there were more than a few werewolves? What if they get hurt? What if Dean hates me even more?
I checked Sam's message again and saw that he sent me the address of where the werewolves' location is and where the hunt would probably take place. I quickly rushed to my room, grabbed my car keys, and went to drive to the location.
—————
I was hiding behind some of the trees in the forest, watching as each of the boys fought one werewolf, two already dead ones on the floor.
Everything seemed good so far; I mean, their guns were on the floor, but they were fighting each werewolf single handed and there was no need for me to make my presence known. The boys were winning as always. And that's when I realized they don't really need me in their life. I knew the words that came out of Dean's mouth tonight weren't really Dean's, my Dean. But he was somehow right; before I became the hunter I am today, I made many mistakes. Some were small, and some led to people getting hurt or even killed. I also put their lives in danger multiple times because I was being reckless. Finding the demons that killed my parents blinded my vision. I was ready to get back to the bunker when I saw both of the werewolves giving up until I noticed something.
A werewolf close to Sam's back, and it seemed like none of the brothers noticed him. I searched for my gun but remembered I forgot it in the backseat of my car. I cursed under my breath and did the only thing possible right now to save Sam. I couldn't let Dean lose another person, especially his brother, who I knew meant the world to him. I couldn't put him through something like that again when there's a chance to save the younger Winchester.
So I ran towards Sam, trying my best to not slip because of the woods on the floor. The Werewolf was close, and nobody noticed him. I'm not the only stupid one after all. The boys turned their heads to me for a slight second, surprised at my presence, but didn't stop fighting the other werewolves.
Until I pushed Sam away from the werewolf he was fighting onto the floor. He seemed confused at first, until he saw it. I assumed Dean did too but couldn't be too sure since he was behind me. I let out an agonizing scream when the werewolf grazed his claws into my stomach and the other one, which Sam was fighting before, grazed his claws into my back before my lifeless body fell on the floor. Dean didn't hesitate more seconds before getting his gun from the floor and shooting all the werewolves.
I was bleeding like a waterfall from my body and my mouth. But the good thing is-
I didn't feel any pain, or anything in that matter…
Dean Winchester’s Pov:
No no no.
This can't be happening.
It's all a nightmare, just another stupid nightmare.
I heard Sam's crying voice telling the love of my life, his best friend, to wake up, holding her torn apart body in his arms, asking her why she pushed him away. But there was no answer.
It's a nightmare happening in real life.
Her beautiful y/e/c are open but so empty, unrecognizable.
I stood over her body, not being able to move from my spot.
There is so much blood everywhere.
Her blood.
This is hell.
No, I’ve been to hell and it's worse than hell.
I started tearing up more and more, reality hitting me more every second.
I let out an angry scream and fell on my knees when I remembered my last words to her.
“You're nothing, do you hear me? Nothing! Your existence doesn't matter. You.don't.matter.”
She wasn't nothing, she was my everything.
She mattered, she was the reason I kept going, now she's gone and it's all my fault.
All my fault.
All of the words I said came back to me, making my chest hurt.
As I knelt beside her lifeless body, surrounded by the aftermath of our shattered world, I whisper into the silent abyss, "I'm sorry, Y/N. I'm so sorry."
And deep down I felt the Mark laughing…
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bsverryin · 10 months
Text
: ̗̀➛ Seeing HSR men with another woman
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Who?
╰┈➤ Blade,Jing yuan, Gepard,
situation?
╰┈➤ Seeing them cheerful with another woman they never talked about.
✎ angst with comfort, they call you with nicknames, reader is insecure & sensitive but characters assures you!! HEAD CANNON'S ONLY!! Tbh the only reason why I thought about this was because I was replaced a few months later after a year of relationship (I wasn't assured enough bro😔) ,anyways enjoy reading, CANNOT ASSURE you of perfect grammar but I'm trying <3
: ̗̀➛ BLADE
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Blade doesn't show his love that much and you understand, he wasn't the type to be all clingy with you. In fact you're the one who's really clingy and sensitive, so how could you ever survive being in a relationship with blade.? It's because he has a side that's only for you and only you can see. You're alone with him privately? He'd call you sweet names, You're taking care of him after fighting enemies? He'd kiss you after treating him. So then you thought how could blade talk with another woman looking CHEERFUL??
When blade came home that night, you weren't talking to him which was new to him, he didn't understand because whenever he entered the door, you'd always greet him with a big hug asking how his day was, or if he was hurt but today you were completely ignoring him, using your phone and sitting on the couch. He thought you didn't notice him so he buried his face on your neck and was about to kiss your cheeks but you stood up,looked at him then rolled your eyes.
You immediately entered your room, closing it with a loud bang. It's the only place where you won't see him because you don't sleep with each other. Minutes later you heard knocks on your door, You opened it revealing blade.
"Is there something wrong, Y/n?" He didn't call you by the nickname that he usually calls you with, you could see from his eyes that he's serious and worried if he did something wrong.
"No, goodnight." Was all that you could say because you knew if you told him about the thing you saw today, you'd be crying that's how sensitive you were, you closed the door after saying those words.
After what you said, he didn't talk for awhile but you heard footsteps all the time, it was blade that couldn't calm himself down thinking if he did something that hurts you, Finally you heard another knock on your door.
"Y/N, love? Please open your door. Let's talk about what's bothering you." It was the first time hearing those words from him! You immediately opened the door letting him in, you sat on your bed while he sat beside you.
"What's our problem?" Those words were so soft-spoken, it was your first time hearing those from him.
"Who was the girl that you're talking to earlier?" You looked around and around but him. It was an awkward situation and you didn't know what to do.
"The girl earlier? I don't remember.." He was silent for awhile then finally he realized what you were talking about.
"Y/N love, please don't take it the wrong way, you're the only one i love." He said as he held your hand.
"But you looked cheerful around her, who was she exactly?" You still didn't look at him but you let him hold your hand.
"It was for a mission, Love. She was associated with the enemy that stellaron hunters have been trying to find, I'm just fooling with her love, and who knows? I might just kill her in the end."
And you turn yourself in! You couldn't get mad at blade for that long because he's trying his best and it's rare whenever he's lovey-dovey to you, he ended up sleeping at your room and who knows what happened in that long night you spent with him.
: ̗̀➛ GEPARD
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Seeing Gepard with another woman is not rare, it happens everyday because he's a captain always walking around belobog to ensure the citizens safety!! But today was different. He was Cheerful towards the woman he just saved, he wasn't blushing but he's smiling a lot. It reminds you of when you first dated each other he has that beautiful smile and looks really cheerful towards you but he doesn't have to be like that with another woman, right? or that's what you thought.
Gepard saw you looking at him and the woman he was talking to, he was about to leave to go to you but the woman in front of him stopped him and started acting shy while playing with her own hair, which you hated of course! You gave him a bad look while he felt bad that he couldn't come to you, you ran away after that.
A few days had passed and you didn't talk to him, whenever you see him patrolling you run away and avoid him as much as you can. He couldn't run after you because that woman is just always wherever he was and the fact that Gepard wasn't trying enough to get close to you hurts you the most. Which leads you into thinking that he maybe tired of you or doesn't love you anymore.
But destiny had other plans, The first week of not talking to him and giving him silent treatment, avoiding him didn't end really well. You were at serval's workshop to help her out because sometimes when you have nothing to do you just go there, you told her about what happened and she said it would be impossible for Gepard to unlove you because of another woman, soon after she left you alone. Serval said she wanted to get some fresh air but the truth is she contacted Gepard to go come to her workshop because of an emergency but in reality you were just there and she wanted you both to fix your misunderstanding together.
Gepard entered her workshop, and he saw you. You couldn't run because you're still finishing something serval assigned you to do.
"where's serval?" Was that all you could say to him, it didn't even feel like you're dating him at this point, because you think that he just doesn't try to be with you enough.
"she's busy...doing something outside." He talks with little pauses. He looked like he wanted to talk about something but he couldn't bring himself to. You were about to finish and exit serval's workshop but when you were about to open the door to leave, Gepard hugged you from behind.
"Y/n,babe I'm sorry we weren't able to date as much as we did before" He said as he rested his chin on your shoulder from behind.
"It's not about that... You know I respect your busy schedule but..the girl" you couldn't continue your word because your tone kept getting shaky and shaky.
"She said she was a fan but I got mad earlier because she kept following me around." He said with his usual tone sounding very sincere.
"She looks...prettier. Maybe you'll feel happier with her." Gepard suddenly stopped hugging you from behind and stood in front of you.
"Y/n, I'm sorry if I made you think it like that but, there's no one else I can love but you. I love you and only you."
You cried as he hugged you, you just missed him so much and it was your first time not talking to him, that 1 week felt like hell but at least now the problem is solved, Serval soon returned saying she might've heard your conversation with Gepard. Gepard blushed while holding your hand as you gave him a peck on his cheeks.
: ̗̀➛ JING YUAN
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Jing yuan is too beautiful to not be surrounded by women, He's always cheerful and smiling around everyone whatever their gender is because that is how he is and you're completely used to it but this time it's different. Someone that you're completely insecure about was inviting him over for dinner and her reason was it was for business purposes, who stupid would believe that? Well either way, jing yuan didn't refuse that woman's invitation.
You told him a lot of times that you both can have dinner instead but he just kept kissing you telling you it's alright it's all about business which made you REALLY sad because even if it's for business why do they have to do it in a dinner way? And why is it the person that you're insecure about? Jing yuan left for dinner and you ate alone. It's alright eating alone for sure but your lover eating with another woman?? You're getting angry,sad and insecure by just thinking about it. It felt like forever waiting for jing yuan to come back, you kept thinking what if they weren't just eating and doing something else? No that's impossible you thought. You keep on replaying in your mind whenever Jing yuan tells you that he loves you more than anything, it's just not enough.
When Jing yuan comes back to your home together, he looks for you and spots you on the couch on your phone. He immediately kissed you then told you how much he missed you and wished he just stayed to have dinner with you.
"So how was your dinner with that business woman?" You said it not in a nice way, more in an aggressive tone which he looked worried about afterwards.
"It was strictly business, my love. It actually made my head ache." He said as he sat beside you and laid his head on your shoulders.
"You should've stayed." You said as if you were annoyed by him, he looked at you with a regretful face, he looked cute without even trying that you suddenly blushed.
"Yes, you're right I should've stayed. I apologize, my love. I'll make it up to you hmm? Let's take a rest first?" You let him slide this time because he's just too precious in your eyes.
The next day, you decided to treat him out to a fancy restaurant, you told him you're the only woman who should EVER take him out for dinner, he chuckled whenever you talk and deny that you are jealous. You know damn well that this man will never ever replace you and will love you until the end.
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ghouljams · 9 months
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Okok idk if you’ve done anything for könig for the medieval au but I can think of no better role for him than the royal executioner. Given a wide berth by all as he is technically forgiven for his job of killing, but beheading a bound prisoner is hardly the stuff of legend, it doesn’t inspire the same awe in folk. König helplessly enamored with a soft maiden reader and well aware of the blood on his hands so he skulks after her, a looming shadow she can’t seem to shake.
I know there's another writer who has an executioner König that I fucking adore, which has made me hesitant to write him in that role. However it's such a good fit for him. My sister is very upset that I made König a hunter and not an executioner, and I have another ask about König being a king put up for our lovely Princess's hand in marriage(Ghost's big mad about that, ahhhh act 2).
But yeah I like König being big and scary, gotta keep the nasty boy nasty. So I'm gonna write something for executioner König
It started so simply, so plainly, that it could hardly even be called unremarkable. Forgettable, was perhaps the better word. König is sure you must have forgotten it, at least.
Executions are an exact science. If you can call it that. There is a certain way that things must be done to ensure that death has been achieved. Rule one: No drinking on the job, not after last time. Rule two: Always aim for the center of the neck, severing the spinal column ensure the pain doesn't last past what is needed. Rule three: Do not hesitate, self explanatory. Rule four: There will always be a lot of blood, it's best to get out of the way quickly once the ax has hit its mark.
König had been washing his hands of said blood in one of the water spouts around town, when he first saw you. Your eyes wide with fear at the sight of him. You looked like the sunset, something painted by the hands of God himself, so soft and radiant as you turned and fled. He looked after you a moment longer than it took you to disappear around the corner before going back to his grim work. He stripped off his mask to rinse the blood from that as well.
This was treated with wax, the blood and water sliding from it much easier than it did his calloused hands. He could never get all the blood off on his first attempt. Maybe he should wear gloves, but he could never feel the ax as well and leather stained. He ran one short fingernail under another to clean the congealing blood out and stopped. König turned to look down at you, your hands clasped together tightly, your eyes still sparkling with fright.
You held your hand out to him, and he tilt his head to look down at it curiously. The familiar scent and off-white color of soap, just a little piece of it resting on your palm. He was careful taking it from you, shaking the water off his hand before plucking it from your palm. Despite his best efforts to prevent you the displeasure a small puddle of red tinged water formed where the soap previously sat.
"Thank you," He mumbled, turning back to his work so he didn't have to see you wipe your hand off.
"I'm sorry," You told him, in so unfamiliar a tone he didn't think he'd ever heard one like it. Pity was something he was used to, executioners were often looked on with some form of it, but this- this wasn't pity. He turned to ask what you were sorry for, but you were already gone. Quick on your feet. Like a little rabbit.
You're jumpy like a rabbit too. Cute. Actually that part might be on him. You may have forgotten your kindness --did you forget? he hopes you didn't-- but König certainly didn't. He's keeping an eye on you. Moving unseen isn't exactly König's strong suit, but he can do it with the right motivation. Motivation like following you around town. He just wants to see you. Wants to see you smile and laugh and hear your sweet voice. Wants to see you interact with normal people without fear in your eyes.
He has to be careful though, the last few times you noticed him you tensed up. Breath held and hands clenched like that might prevent him from seeing you. Sweet scared little thing. Was it the blood on his hands that scared you? The violence he enacted? Was it his size, his strength, the heat of his gaze? Do you imagine his hands on your soft skin like he does?
Well, maybe not like he does. Your imagination is likely less... appreciative than his, more violent. Too bad.
That's exactly why he has to steal these glimpses of you. He doesn't want to frighten you, although you are beautiful even when you look on his in fear. You're so much more without him. To think music could ever sound as sweet as your laughter, that the sun could ever shine as bright as your smile. He tips his head to watch you, a wonder of divine creation, terribly kind in your every movement.
You crouch to help an older woman pick up a basket of heavy produce, wave off her thanks with a smile and settle the goods on a nearby stall. You pull a child out of the way of a cart, and wave at the driver without a speck of malice. Your kindness is rewarded in turn, an extra few apples for your coin, a warm slice of fresh bread for your walk, people stop you to chat with friendly smiles and kind words.
And yet. And yet he never sees you with anyone. Never sees you walking arm in arm with a friend or a lover, even a parent. You're alone in your crowd of kind acquaintances.
He can't follow you when you leave town. There aren't enough places to hide, not enough corners to stay shadowed behind. That doesn't stop him from watching you as you walk down the road. You don't go far, just far enough to find a comfortable place on the stone wall lining one side of the dirt path. You settle your shopping basket on the ground beside your feet and finally look back at him.
König's breath seizes in his chest. You're still so tense as you stare at him, as you unclench one of your tight fists and pat the wall next to you. He glances behind him to see if there's perhaps a friend of yours he'd missed. No, when he looks back you're still staring just as fiercely determined at him as you had been.
He's cautious with his approach, nervous as the way your eyes track his, your head tipping to accommodate his height the closer he gets. Until he's stood in front of you, your wide eyes still blinking up at him. You pat the wall again, wordlessly asking for his company.
"Are you hungry?" You ask when before he's barely sat down. König pauses, watches you bend to pull an apple from your basket. "You've been following me all day, you must be." You pull a knife from your pocket to slice the fruit and König holds out his hand.
"Let me," He tells you. You hesitate, staring at his -clean, he swears they're clean, he'll never dirty yours again- hands. You settle the apple in his rough palm and offer him the knife. König shakes his head, and grips the apple between his hands, twisting it sharply to break it neatly in half. He offers you one.
"Thank you," You offer him half of a smile, take the offered half and bite into it. Clean enough to touch your lips, König thinks. Or maybe you just don't care about the stains. "It's lovely out isn't it?" You make quiet conversation.
"You are," He breathes, and you bite your lip, your smile blossoming around your best intentions to stop it.
Maybe you were alone for him, to give him the space to get close to you. A rabbit baiting the big bad wolf.
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raginglesbian2006 · 3 months
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I was wondering if I could request Alastor and a hunter reader and the reader hunted deer when they were alive so meeting a deer demon would be interesting! Only if you want! Congrats on your followers- Remember to drink water and eat a snack!
Can I be ✨ anon?
of course! and thank you so much for the congratulations! Please remember to take care of yourself as well!
Time for some deer puns! >:)
Oh, Deer!
A/N: look at my baby girl :)
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Your first meeting with the famed radio demon had been... interesting, to say the least.
You had stumbled upon a swamp-like area while on your daily strolls through hell. Being a hunter when you were alive naturally kicked in your curiosity and you made the decision to wander through the place. Perhaps, you had hoped, you'd get some fresh kill.
As you made your way around the tall trees- their canopies hanging over your head- your ears picked up a sound.
"Radio static? Why is there a radio around here?" you wondered.
Your curiosity grew even further. You took another step.
And another.
And another-
Wait.
Your eyes widened slightly.
"Is that...a deer...demon?"
From where you stood, you could see the demon, happily munching on raw venison. He was seated quite elegantly at a lovely little table. He took small bites with the help of his fork, the static growing with each satisfying bite.
You moved back slightly, your mind telling you to walk away when suddenly, you heard a crunch.
A lone dry twig lay smashed against the sole of your shoe.
There was an eerie silence following this. You looked back at where the demon was...but you found no one, save for the lifeless deer who lay sprawled on the table, guts out for everyone to see.
Without a warning, something grabbed you by the neck and shoved you against a tree. You let out a startled scream.
Your eyes found the demon-his form looking so much more...terrifying than what you'd seen before. His eyes were wide and his pupils resembled that of radio dials. His mouth was stretched in a frightening grin as blood poured through his sharp teeth. His antlers grew larger by the second. Tentacles arose from around him menacingly as one held you against the tree.
Sure you could die right now but all you could think of at the moment was that he looked...majestic.
"₩Ⱨ₳₮ ł₴ ₳ ₱₳₮ⱧɆ₮ł₵ ₴ł₦₦ɆⱤ Ⱡł₭Ɇ ɎØɄ ĐØł₦₲ ł₦ ₥Ɏ ₣ØⱤɆ₴₮?" His voice came out distorted. You winced as the static grew louder than ever.
"I-I s-swear, I was just passing through!" you wheezed out.
You felt the pressure around your neck increase. Tears started pooling around your eyes.
"₳₦Đ ⱧØ₩ ĐØ ł ₭₦Ø₩ ɎØɄ ₳ⱤɆ ₮Ø ฿Ɇ ₮ⱤɄ₴₮ɆĐ?"
Your free hands scrambled to reach your pocket. You pulled out your hunting license- something you had died with back when you were alive, showing it to him.
"I-I'm a hunter! I stumbled upon this f-forest and I-I wanted to s-see if I'd get some f-fresh kill!" you managed to voice out, despite your breath being restricted.
You fell to the ground suddenly, as the static around you returned to its normal range. You started breathing in short gasps, your body adjusting to the release of force from around your neck.
"Well, why did you not say so?" the demon said, jovially, "I am always delighted to meet another hunter like myself!"
You felt yourself be pulled up, your arms clutched around his claws. You managed to find your balance and stood on your shaking limbs.
The demon then grabbed your hand and shook it, fervently, "My name is Alastor. It's a pleasure meeting you,dear! Quite the pleasure!"
His eyes caught onto the reprehensive look on your face as he continued, "I do apologize for my behavior. It's just that when you're a powerful overlord like myself," he gloated, "It becomes hard differentiating friend from foe. One can never be too careful!"
You nodded hesitantly, "I do not mean to pose any harm to you, Alastor. As I said, I truly did not know this," you gestured to your surroundings, "belonged to you."
Alastor hummed in reply and then patted the top of your head, "Do not worry, my dear. We are in hell after all. Errors are a common thing."
He then looked at you with a curious eye, "You said you were a hunter. Oh, do tell me more."
⋘ ──── ∗ ⋅◈⋅ ∗ ──── ⋙
And that was how you become acquainted with the radio demon himself. As mentioned previously, you were a hunter back when you were alive but what you loved hunting the most, was deer. In fact, it was the deer-hunting shenanigans that led to you dying in the first place.
Alastor and you bonded over your shared love for venison, albeit you liked it a bit more...cooked. On one of his many meetings with you, he showcased his wide array of guns, perfectly polished and ready to be used. Safe to say, you were starstruck.
You never questioned his deer-like features. You assumed it had something to do with his death so you never pestered him about it. You valued your afterlife a whole lot more.
(Although you did want to touch his ears so badly. They looked so incredibly fluffy.)
You remember you managed to take a glimpse of his little tail when he took off his overcoat. He found you ogling at his rear which prompted him to threaten you to keep your lips sealed. You did, of course.
And my god, did the two of you love deer puns... (Brace yourselves, folks)
"What did the deer say after he finished eating?"
You looked at Alastor, eyeing him from above your cup of coffee, "What?"
"That was deer-licious!"
You choked on your drink, as you laughed.
⋘ ──── ∗ ⋅◈⋅ ∗ ──── ⋙
"Hey Al!" you called out to him.
Alastor turned to you, his head turning 360 without his body turning the same way, "Yes, dear?"
"What’s a buck’s least favorite sandwich bread?"
Alastor hummed, "No-eye-deer!"
You burst out laughing, "No! Let me finish my pun!" You took a deep breath to sound out your answer.
"Sour doe!"
A boisterous laugh from the radio demon ensued.
⋘ ──── ∗ ⋅◈⋅ ∗ ──── ⋙
If you were told years ago that you would befriend a fearsome cannibalistic overlord, you would have laughed at their face.
Welp, how the turn tables.
A/N: Well this turned out a bit different from what I'd planned but I do hope you enjoy it! Also, I do apologize for not answering this request for so long T-T. I procrastinate a lot.
Also, I must say I truly resisted getting Alastor to say, "Get out of mah swamp!" XD
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Hi there,
Saw your post about Cajun/cowboy Alastor and OMG! I don’t have many ideas other then maybe he plays poker for souls or something like that and maybe a reader comes into town and is just as good at poker as he is. And he cannot seem to win, leading him to become mildly obsessed over winning their soul.
Thats all I have as I don’t know much about cajun/cowboy stuff.
I’ll let you know if I have any other ideas!
Thank you!
Alastor - [ ACE OF HEARTS ]
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A/N: Omg, I love your take on cowboy Al! It got me thinking about it for days. I have never played poker, so I had to watch multiple YouTube videos to understand the game while writing this. Hopefully, it came out accurate enough! Also, this is a very, VERY traumatic/smut-heavy fic I'm working on, so please be aware and know I don't endorse anything I write.
WARNINGS: [ NSFW ] + [ MDNI ] + [ MATURE THEMES ] + [ FEM READER ] + [ GUN PLAY… ] + [ SLIGHT DUB CON….eventually.] + [ SLIGHT/IMPLIED AGE GAP ] + [ MENTIONS OF GORE/BLOOD/CANNABILISM ] + [ KIDNAPPING…sort of?.. ] + [ PARENTAL PHYSICAL AB*SE…eventually..] + [ ANGST/TRUAMA…]
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**Cowboy Alastor** is known for his record of killing, is a skilled bounty hunter, and is far from a decently moral one. Everyone assumes his motives, guessing who his next target is and if he’ll ever feel guilt for what he does to them.
He doesn't.
What kind of demon would he be if he did…
Besides, the people he kills owe him in one way or another, all in debt to the red demon by their stupidity and lust for life, so he feels nothing for them when the time comes for the price of their deals to be paid.
Alastor arrives for them in the dead of dry nights, taking their last breath with a single bullet to the head or a clean cut across the throat. Their pleas do little to affect his decision.
“A deal is a deal…”
He reminds them that escaping a bloody end is impossible, already solidified by their selfish desires, and no amount of begging will change his mind. They curse his name, glaring at the grin on his face as he draws nearer with deathly intent in his eyes, and it only grows as he derives pleasure from their refusal to cooperate.
The riches, the riding, and the roughness he endures daily are nothing compared to the satisfaction he gets from killing. Others may deal in chasing oil, farming land, and cattle, but he stakes his fulfillment in the business of blood.
**Cowboy Alastor** dabbles in gambling when he's not off-striking deals with lowly souls or wreaking havoc on those he deems deserving.
Every city south of New Orleans with a bar or saloon welcomes his visits and not by choice.
Those who don't meet his standards or demands of hospitality drop from the face of the earth at his will, burning to a crisp full of the dead occupants who so lightly offended him, and never to be rebuilt out of fear he'd return to demolish it again.
He surely would, but no one has yet to test the theory in fear of a painful death by his hands.
Alastor leisurely travels the expanse of Louisiana's countryside, partial to riding wherever the wind blows, but he’ll always return to the rumbling city of New Orleans.
Whether for personal reasons or because his beloved mother wished to see him, it becomes second nature for the deer demon to reside there randomly. It was his hometown, after all, and he preferred the taste of whiskey from a familiar place over foreign alcohol in far-off dusty taverns he'd never visit again.
The saloon he fancies sits opposite the central townhouse, a tall building at the end of a main street that never seemed to rest.
Lafitte’s Blacksmith Bar
Summer nights brought out and drew in more people, filling the bar with patrons who knew of his deeds and those who’d only heard scarring stories about him through the ladder. The knowledge of a red reaper roaming the towns of Louisiana varied, but their fearful respect of him was abundant the moment Alastor stepped foot into the bustling bar.
He was there, in good spirits for the most part, but still an impossible threat they couldn't brush off.
**Cowboy Alastor** greets the silent patrons with a sly grin, tipping his hat to the fear-stricken owner who eyed him from behind the packed bar.
“Don't let me interrupt the fun, Cher. I'm not here to cause you trouble… that's if you're kind enough to indulge me.”Alastor chuckles, not waiting for a proper response from anyone as he stalks over to his usual spot in the smokey parlor.
A group of cattlemen stiffen in their seats as he walks by, all grabbing their drinks as swiftly as possible before leaping up from their table to avoid him, and their skittish actions cause Alastor to laugh as he settles into a particular backroom booth.
It was customary for people to keep their distance from him, some deterred by his striking appearance while others simply didn't want to risk involvement with a known killer. He saw nothing wrong with their aversion, glad that his reputation proceeded him, but there were those single few who saw him as a challenge rather than a threat.
Poor fools…
Mortal or not, he ran into them regularly, welcoming their duels like a bored child getting a new toy to destroy, and though he knew they'd fail to win against him, he'd never turn down a good game.
Ever…
**Cowboy Alastor** lets the saloon wind into chaos again, humming along to the melody of music and rowdy singing while getting comfortable in his secluded spot.
His hat rests low on his head, shielding most of his red gaze from those who look his way, only leaving the view of his Cheshire smile and effectively signaling his oddly calm demeanor. Alastor slipped his riding jacket off, tossing the tailored burgundy clothing across the back of the booth, his leather and suede black gloves following suit.
“What a day it's been…” he mumbled while flexing his long fingers, relaxing his posture while leaning back and rolling his neck until a soft ‘pop’ was heard.
Consequently, the tension tangled in his limber body from riding all day unraveled. Alastor sucked his teeth at the feeling, licking his lips as a satisfied groan left them, and just as he sat forward again, the owner hurried to his table with a bottle of alcohol and a tray of cigars.
“Your usual, Al,” he split out, setting the items in front of him with shakey hands, and Alastor clicks his tongue at the nervous tick. He'd come to this bar for years, and the old man still trembled in his boots around him. The poor fool wouldn't dare admit his fear either, rushing off as soon as he reached for the bottle, and though some might consider his retreat rude, Alastor found it amusing.
Flattering, even.
**Cowboy Alastor** drinks slowly, letting the whiskey burn his tongue and drowning the malt taste with languid drags from a cigar.
Eyes scan over him, women whisper about him lustfully under the rowdy music, and the men keep their senses about them with happy trigger fingers.
Because as they say: “Red Reaper, Red Reaper. The devil's solemn deal keeper. Beware him & the hell he seeks…”
Alastor imposes his intensity, grinning at those who stare too long, watching the women who drink him in with an equally sultry stare, and daring the men to throw a bullet his way with a knowing smirk. He invites trouble, waiting for it like a preying snake in tall, dry grass, but after some time, he assumes no one in the saloon will accept his invitation.
That is until you step in, looking lost among the worldly thrills of a bar but unafraid to venture further into it with an air of certainty surrounding you.
**Cowboy Alastor** makes no move to approach you, laid back as ever, as he observes the gentle way you speak to men who drunkenly approach you. They make offers to dance, almost crowding your more diminutive form as you trail to the bar.
“Sorry, boys, but I'm here on business, not pleasure. Now, run along..” you wave them away playfully, purposely flirtatious but avidly stern.
He expects them to continue bugging you; you're a doll, after all, prettier than most women he's seen. However, the men retreat politely, leaving you be as the owner approaches your side, and you immediately turn to hug him despite his apparent concerned expression.
Alastor observes the exchange closely, reading your lips perfectly while sipping at his drink, and it's all too easy for him to assess the situation.
The daughter of a businessman returns home after finishing school in the north, wanting to visit him at work as a pleasant surprise, but he's far from happy about a young lady like yourself being out late at night in a place like this.
You're too mannered to be seen around the patrons, it's dangerous for you to ride alone in the evening, and your father isn't pleased you intend to stay out to celebrate your school completion.
He tells you it's best to go home, that he'll come with you, but you insist on staying and remind him, “I'm not your little girl anymore, Daddy!..” The older man can't seem to rein you in, having to drop the lecture as a small brawl breaks out in the corner of the saloon, which draws his attention immediately, and this leaves you to wander the scene freely.
A perfect time for Alastor to reel you in close and personal…
**Cowboy Alastor** whistles when you walk past his area, catching your attention with a short, soulful melody, and you quickly notice him in the dim back room.
“Hi there, lil’ lady. Searchin' for somethin'?” He inquires playfully, tone bordering sensual, and his grin slipping into a closed smile as your gaze settles on him.
You’re curious, not scared of him like most are, and the moment he speaks to you, questions race through your head.
Who is he?
How have you never seen him here before?
Why, in God's name, is he sitting away from the masses?
Is he a rider, a hunter, or maybe a convict?
It was hard to tell from a distance, so without a second thought, you flashed him a gentle smile, gradually approaching where he sat, “Hello, and who might you be, sir?” You chirp a greeting, resisting the urge to bite your lip as he stares into your wandering gaze.
Alastor assumed you’d been away from the South too long to realize who he was, that your father's earlier warning didn’t sprout from overprotectiveness but rather fear of his presence.
You didn’t see him as a threat, nor a danger, but a new face in an old town.
He chuckles, putting out his cigar after taking a particularly long drag from it, blowing smoke past his lips with a coy hum. You blink as the convoluted air fans your face, unbothered by it and itching for a taste of tobacco yourself. It’d been a few years since you’d let loose, not allowed to frequent bars or act unladylike in the limelight of northern modesty.
“A loyal patron, but it’s been some time since I’ve paid this place a visit.” He answers you politely, an odd trait that most men only reserved for themselves but refreshing to experience.
“Oh, well, that’s nice to hear, but your name is what I would like to know.”
A tender smirk stretches your lips, a red hue dusting your cheeks as he tips his hate apologetically before uttering a response, “Alastor Hartifelt. A pleasure to meet you, Miss…” he pauses, quirking a brow at you expectantly, and you take a moment to analyze him further.
You've heard your father utter his name many times before your departure to the north. He'd described him brutally, having less than pleasant things to say about bounty hunters in general but especially about the man in front of you now. You'd heard people talk of his deeds, deals, and evil.
He was dubbed the ‘Red Reaper’ for a good reason, lurking around in the bitter nights and drawing blood from one poor soul or another in his travels.
Supposedly, he was a terrifying monster, but you'd always found beauty in the demented. It was one of the reasons your father had sent you away, but fortunately, the influence of the posh upper class did nothing to change your consciousness.
Besides, the rumors had failed to mention how attractive the red reaper was, let alone dashing. He seemed nice enough hadn't flashed his weapon, threatened, or catcalled you disrespectfully.
So, you found no harm in telling him your name, “Y/n L/n. It's a pleasure to meet you as well, Mr. Hartifelt.” You blink slowly, drowning in his red eyes, unconsciously swaying where you stood, back to a wall that hid your presence near him from your father's eyes and the curious stares of others.
Alastor glanced at the space beside him, silently asking that you join him, but unlike most women, he rarely took an interest in, you didn't move until he asked you outright.
“Would you care to join me for a drink, Miss L/n? I'd like to have your company for a while..”
He doesn't speak any louder than needed, using every bit of charm he has to lure you in, and you let him believe he's succeeded with a sensual laugh and purring laugh.
“Why, I thought you'd never ask..”
**Cowboy Alastor** asks a lot of questions. Subtly gathering information about you that he has no use for.
You give him answers; some are lies, others are indiscriminate truths, but you can't bring yourself to be completely honest with a stranger known for his cunning. He keeps your glass full, pacing the liquor with you, reveling in your gentle laughter after every sip, and softening faster and faster the longer you conversed.
You kept your wits about you as best as possible, inviting his fleeting touches but never going further than whispering in his ear or tapping a finger under his sharp chin when he'd stare too long.
Alastor didn't mind your soft hands on him, nor your lingering gaze and confident provocations. He absentmindedly returned the gestures just as boldly.
Your fifth glass of whiskey was running low, and without a hint of hesitation, he refilled it alongside his own. You watched as the amber liquid filled each glass, utterly relaxed as he spoke to you tenderly, “You say your father sent you far up north. May I ask why?…”
He peers at you, sliding the transparent glass into your waiting hand, and you chuckle wryly while taking a sip. “Daddy says it was for my good. You see, my mother is a stickler about manners, and I didn't have much of any growing up. Ironic, seeing as I was raised well enough.” you paused, frowning at the memory of your strict but loving mother.
She was lovely to look at and kind most of the time, but her ambitions for you outweighed her patience. Alastor noted the haunting sadness in your eyes but said nothing as you continued, looking out into the crowd of patrons fussing about as you did.
“My mother died a few years back, leaving daddy to handle me, and when he realized he couldn't manage the business and a daughter, he sent me away. Couldn't blame him either; I was getting into trouble left and right and had some bad habits on the rise, too.”
His ears perked at the words ‘bad habits’ leaving your lips, naturally drawn to knowing a mortal's darkest secrets, so he pressed for clarification.
“Bad habits, you say? I couldn't imagine a sweet thing like you havin’ such things.”
You scoffed, glad your cheeks were flushed from the alcohol buzz to mask the blush his comment invoked, “Well…I did. Still do if I'm honest.” you admit in a hushed tone, knocking back the last of your drink before glancing his way.
“It's hard to resist doing things you're good at.”
Alastor leaned back into the seat, drink in one hand, the other fixing his hat so it sat back on his head. The adjustment gave you a peek at his fluffy red hair and the distinctive blood-marked x on his forehead. You thought to ask what the mark meant but saved the question for later, as he agreed with your statement.
“Very true, ma chere. Although I'm one for killin’, your passion may not be so grizzly and easier to alleviate.”
“My father thinks gambling is just as bad as killing. It doesn't matter if he's addicted to it himself or not. If I do it…I'm the devil's daughter in his eyes..” You roll your eyes, an action that jolts a nerve Alastor hasn't felt in years and subconsciously doesn't ignore.
“Gambling? That's your unproper poison?” he narrows his gaze as you nod lazily, a few ringlets of your hair falling from its pinned-up style as you do, resting on the skin of your shoulders and neck.
Soft.
Your locks look soft and silky to the touch, tempting him to run his fingers through it, across your skin, and, god forbid, under your dress.
A heavy breath settled in his chest at the possibility, a familiar rush coursing through him as you moved your lips to speak, “Yes. I see a stack of playin’ cards, and I just can't help myself. I got rather good at playing too but when you beat everyone in town at it people start to be less kind about your reputation.”
You laugh, attempting to make a light-hearted joke but ultimately grimacing at the mention of lousy sportsmanship from others. You couldn't help winning a challenge in poker, and many saw the talent as disgraceful, which prompted I'll rumor about you.
“That's a shame, sugar. Everyone deserves a chance to play a good game of their choosing.” he feigns concern, meeting your curious eyes as you shift to face him, “Everyone except me if my father has anything to say about it. Still, I suppose it's best I let it go…” you sigh, grabbing the bottle of whiskey to pour another shot.
Suddenly, you freeze, feeling his body heat invade your space. Alastor tilts his head down close to yours, breathing in your scent discretely before pressing his lips to the lobe of your ear as he mutters into it, “Why don't you play a game with me, chere? One lil’ round for fun… right under your daddy's nose, hm?”
The burn of excitement seizes your body, a shakey breath leaving your lips as his voice settles in your mind, inviting you to indulge his offer. That same heat pooled in your core with every second he spent in your space, inhaling the scent of bourbon and sweet sugar cane grass he rode through radiating off him, words just as inviting and addictive.
For a horrifying, well-feared killer, he sure did entice a woman like any natural-born gentleman…
It was a deathly combination you knew he often used, killing or not, and though it'd be wise to avoid his idea, you didn't want to risk missing an opportunity for the thrill.
It'd been so long, too long, and what's the worst that could happen?
Losing to him?
You'd never lost to anyone before, and you were confident that fact wouldn't change -even going up against the Red Reaper himself.
**Cowboy Alastor** relishes when you utter a ‘yes’ to his offer. His grin widens menacingly for a split second as he sets his glass down next to your empty one, conjuring up a meticulously detailed deck of playing cards and placing them on the table.
“You can choose which game we play, sugar…”
Alastor shifts away from you, letting you regain your composure and watching as your delicate fingers reach for the top card of the deck.
“Poker. A favorite of mine..” You didn't think twice before answering him, admiring the red and black ace in your hand, wondering where he acquired such personalized playing cards.
“Poker it is then, chere,” he smirks wickedly, removing his hat entirely to set it on the table before gingerly plucking the card from your hold and sliding to sit opposite you while dishing out equal amounts of cards between you.
Your eyes light up under the oil lamp's golden hue, studying the flick of his hands as he worked, trying hard not to wander up to his piercing gaze. Afraid he'd immediately see your attraction to his nimble hands, well to him in general, and use it against you somehow, so your focus remains on the hand dealt and not him.
As you both plucked your respective set from the table, studying the cards intently, you asked the singular most crucial question every poker match was built on.
“What will the bets be,” Your innocent inquiry earns sultry laughter from him, filling the air, raising feverish chills on your skin as he stares at you through half-lidded eyes.
“I prefer bargains of the soul, my dear. The use and price of one's existence is always more valuable than money, don't you agree?”
xxxxx xxxxx xxxxx xxxxx xxxxxx xxxxx xxx
A/N: Don't be mad AT ME, GUYS, PLEASE. I HAD EXAMS LAST WEEK. I'm SORRY FOR DROPPING OFF THE FACE OF THE EARTH… sort of, but I'm back now (please do hate me :((( ). Uh, so I might merge “Down in the Dust” with this because both stories kinda originated in my brain at the same time. However, since this is a request, I wrote a two-part tangent smut as a sort of prequel to the other fic! Also, the phrase “Save a horse. Ride a cowboy” will be unironically used…I'm sorry (I'm not lol) ❤️
[ BONUS CONTENT + ] VOLUME WARNING!!! 🗣️
Fun fact: In the South, we have a rule that if you take a cowboy hat and end up wearing it, they catch you with it (preferably in the mutual interest of getting to know each other). That cowboy gets to fuck you (hopefully, but technically you're initiating a flirting game wearing their hat, lol). It's a cute concept and one any Cowboy Alastor enthusiast should think about. ❤️ credits to the creator.
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beskarandblasters · 8 months
Text
A Good Friend to Have
Sub!Din Djarin x Dom/F!Reader
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Main Masterlist | Din Djarin Masterlist
Author's note: So this fic was actually written by my boyfriend! (& edited by me) This is the first fic he's ever written and it's honestly so fucking good. @wannab-urs and @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin can attest to that! He came up with the plot all by himself!! I'm so proud of him!! He let me post his for y'all during my little break🖤
Summary: You and your friend work at a brothel on Coruscant, while work is slow she reveals that she owes a debt to a loan shark who is willing to pay out a bounty to anyone who brings her in. When a Mandalorian shows up at the brothel you do everything you can think of to distract the bounty hunter and buy her time to escape.
Word count: 4k
Warnings: reader is able-bodied, canon divergent, sex work, edging, orgasm denial, dom/sub dynamic, masturbation, vaginal sex, helmet stays on, helmet riding, disrespect of the creed, no use of y/n
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It’s a cold, rainy night on Coruscant and you've been working with your friend, a twi'lek named Sorrana, at the brothel since sundown. Work has been slow tonight, you don’t think much of it, chalking it up to customers warming themselves with drinks at the local cantinas. To kill some time you exit your chambers and check in with Sorrana, who you find in her chamber acting nervous. You catch her holding the tips of her cones resting on her shoulders while she paces the room.
“Hey I just wanted to stop by and maybe see if you wanted to make plans for after work… Is everything okay?” you ask.
“Uhhh…not really, I don’t think I can go out tonight, sorry.” she replies.
“I understand, is there something wrong?” you ask, concern laced in your voice.
“Yeah I'm pretty stressed out, but you don’t need to worry.” she says, still racked with a nervousness that’s impossible to miss.
“We’re friends! You can tell me anything.”
After a short pause for consideration she utters, “I needed credits a couple weeks ago and I got a loan, but with how slow work has been I haven't been able to pay it back.”
“Oh no,” you interrupt, “If you needed credits you could’ve asked me. I understand how stressful debt can be.” you tell her.
“I wouldn’t want to be a burden on you, but between us, that’s not all… I borrowed the credits from a shark on one of the lower levels because nobody else would consider lending them to me,” she chokes out.
Tears well up in her eyes and her voice cracks. You’re heartbroken for her but you choose to stay silent to let her continue. 
“Earlier today some of the shark's thugs told me that I better have the credits together by the end of the night or they’d be sending someone after me” she cries, no longer able to hold back her tears.
“Oh no, Sorrana! I’m so sorry. You must be terrified... Is there some way I can help? How many credits do you owe this guy anyway?” you ask, searching for a way to console her.
“It started at five thousand but each week he’s been raising the balance higher and higher. I hoped to pay it back that first week… but with the interest he’s charging it’s impossible. I only came in to work tonight because I have no way to get off the planet and his thugs know where I live… I was going to sleep here.” she sobs, burying her face in her hands. 
Suddenly you hear a knock, the two of you shift your eyes to the source of the noise and hear your boss speaking through the door.
“Sorrana? Are you in there? I’ve got a customer that requested to see you. It’s someone new, a Mandalorian, shall I send him in?” she calls.
You and Sorrana exchange glances with the understanding that this Mandalorian was probably hired by the shark, who must have sent for him to take her in for a bounty. You make a split-second decision. 
You make a motion for her to come closer and in a rushed whisper you say, “Take my keys and some credits. Get a taxi back to my place, okay? I’ll handle this. Hide in the closet and when we leave, go out the back.”
She opens her mouth to protest but you hold your hand up and motion for her to go. She nods and whispers, “Thank you so much” while hugging you tightly before another knock at the door echoes in the room.
“Be safe,” you urge her before she hides. 
“She's not here right now,” you tell your boss as the door opens. 
“Then what are you doing in Sorrana’s chamber?” she pries.
“Nothing, I just ran out of perfume and I know Sorana doesn’t mind sharing so I just came here to freshen up… You said there’s a customer here?” you say quickly.
“Oh, yes. A Mandalorian is here asking for Sorrana but I suppose I’ll have to tell him to return another time since she’s gone for the night,” she says, still slightly suspicious of you.
“Let me talk to him. Maybe I can be of service to him tonight, since he’s already made the trip here,” you suggest.
Your boss shrugs her shoulders and waves for you to follow her back into the main lobby of the brothel. You see the Mandalorian clad in shining armor under an earthen toned cape, hands placed on his hips as he waits for your boss to return with Sorrana.
“I'm sorry sir, I've been mistaken, Sorrana isn’t here tonight. However, this lovely lady has assured me that she can take care of whatever you may need,” she explains, gesturing to you.
He turns to you as he examines you through the black visor of his helmet.
“Do you know where I can find Sorrana?” he asks.
“We can discuss that and anything else you want back in my private chambers,” you reply, dancing a fine line between appearing like the flirt your boss expects you to be while still tempting the Mandalorian with the promise of information.
He pauses for a minute before following you to the back of the brothel to your room. You spend the short stroll to the back of the building with your mind racing, trying to think of ways to lead him on and buy as much time for Sorrana as you can. This man is on a mission, and just from his demeanor in the lobby you can tell he’s only here for that purpose– so simply trying to have sex with him probably won’t be enough to distract him. He'd just lose interest the moment he believes that there’s no information to be gained from talking with you and write you off as a sex worker angling for a payday.
The two of you enter your room and you instruct him to take a seat in the bed while you press the button and close the door. When you turn around he’s still standing in the center of the room.
“Where's Sorrana?” he asks, getting straight to the point just as you predicted.
“Take your cock out” trying to throw him off by getting straight to your point.
“Excuse me? No, I won't be doing that. I’m here because you told me we could speak in private,” he replies before adding, “If you have nothing to help me find her, I’ll be on my way.”
“I can give you the information you need, but first I want you to take your cock out. I’ve never seen a Mandalorian’s cock. Satisfy my curiosity and I’ll satisfy yours,” you tease.
There's a long silence before he utters, “It’s easier than a shootout I suppose,” before unzipping the fly of his flight suit, revealing his cock. You spend the next few moments taking in the sight, you didn’t expect him to actually do it; let alone so quickly.
“Satisfied?” he asks as he begins to put it away.
“Not yet. I want to see it hard,” you snap back.
He stops reaching for his fly and gazes up at you before replying with, “I want information”.
“Sorrana was here earlier but she left. There’s some information for you. If you want more, get it hard.” you say, trying to string him further along. 
You can’t help but notice how broad he is, and truthfully, you had never seen a mandalorian’s cock before. It’s a sight to behold but you remind yourself of your goal to prevent yourself from getting distracted.
“Fine, but I'll want something more specific than that in exchange” he sighs, before reaching down to slowly stroke himself hard for you.
A silence fills the room for a few moments before you hear him let out a low, muffled, groan and see his cock begin to rise. You notice his dark visor fixated on you, taking in your form to help himself get hard quicker. 
“Does staring at me like that help you out?” you tease.
“Yes… It does,” he says, almost moaning the words out.
“How adorable,” you play, before instructing him further, “Hands off.”
“I'm only half hard though?” he replies, letting his hands fall to his sides. “I thought you wanted to see it hard?” he says, seeming almost frustrated with the missing sensation.
“I do, but I want to watch it get hard and with your hand on it I won't get the whole view,” you explain to him.
“Humor me, I want to watch your cock rise and you said that looking at me is getting you there,” you continue.
“So? …You want me to get hard just looking at you?” he asks
“Exactly, hands behind your back now. I don’t want anything in the way, let me see that cock get hard with a clear view,” you say, taking a more dominant tone. 
This will buy Sorrana more time as well, you assure yourself.
He follows your instructions and takes the stance you described, “Like this?” he asks, with his cock hanging in the air. You can sense a slight feeling of nervousness or maybe even embarrassment coming from the Mandalorian in his exposed state.
“Exactly, stay just like that for me,” you say as you stroll to the other side of the room before taking a seat on the edge of the bed and crossing your legs.
He stands there, in the center of the room with his cock out, and hands behind his hips with his erection growing as his visor scans you from top to bottom, and back up again. You lean back, placing your hands on the bed and notice the visor is fixated on your cleavage. You stand up in front of him, and slip off the rest of your clothes before sitting back on the edge of the bed, this time you spread your legs and expose your cunt to him. His cock twitches more with the new visual stimulation. As you begin gently touching your clit with one hand, and lightly tug your nipple with the other, his cock grows even harder in front of you. When he achieves a full erection a few drops of precum leak from the tip.
“There, are you satisfied yet? Where is Sorrana?” he groans.
“Alright, don't get so… worked up,” you reply in a sultry tone.
As you finish your sentence you notice the head of his cock is wet with precum, the dim light of the room reflects off of his glistening tip, as well as his metallic chestplate and helmet, illuminating his thick shaft. 
“She was nervous when I saw her, that was maybe an hour ago?” you add, attempting to mislead his investigation by giving him a false timeline.
“Did she say where she was going?” he asks.
“Stroke it,” you tell him. “Stroke it for me and I’ll tell you more.”
“This is ridiculous,” he begins, reaching down for his fly once more before adding, “I’ll find her myself.”
As he bends to cover himself, you extend your bare leg forward, tapping the tip of his member with your foot, causing him to freeze.
“Just stroke it for me. Trust me, it’ll be so much easier than starting your search from scratch… And I’ve kept my word so far, haven't I? Besides, wouldn’t it feel nice to stroke yourself to my naked body?” you say with a smirk.
He silently grasps his cock once again, and begins stroking the length of it while holding back quiet moans beneath his helmet.
After a few minutes of obeying your latest set of commands, he asks “How long do you want me to continue this for?”
“Until I tell you to stop of course… Now stroke it a little slower for me. I don't want to miss anything,” you tell him. 
At this point you begin to pick up that he’s building up toward climax, which is perfect for you because you need his focus on that instead of continuing his line of questioning. You can’t deny that this situation has you turned on, too. You admit to yourself that you’d like to feel him inside of you, but you shouldn’t. You have to stay focused on buying time, by keeping him horny and distracted.
He slows his pace just as you told him to, his cock now dripping precum onto his pants. This pace must be so frustrating for him, his hips begin pushing forward into his stroke as his hand meets his base.
You cut the silence, “Did I say you could fuck your fist?”
He stammers for a few seconds, realizing what he had been doing in his aroused state. 
“I-I… No, you didn’t.”
“That’s right, I didn’t. So why did you start? Getting a little carried away? Follow my instructions to the word, or I won’t be sharing any other details with you. Understood?“ you snap at him.
“Yes, I understand,” he replies in a soft tone.
“What do you understand?” you ask him.
“I will follow your instructions to the word, and you’ll give me the details I need to find Sorrana,” he says with shaky breaths.
“Good, I’m so glad we’re finally on the same page, now stroke it faster for me,” you demand.
“Yes, of course,” he submits.
He begins pumping his fist up and down his hardened cock, his visor shifting from your eyes to your chest, and down to your legs, but never averting from you. You stand up from the bed and tell him to drop to his knees. He hesitates for a second, as if processing everything that’s happened so far and how he got in this situation, but drops down in compliance.
“I hear that you’re not allowed to remove that helmet, is that true?” you ask.
“It is. It’s part of my creed,” he answers, looking up at you still stroking himself at a quickened pace.
“That's a shame,” you tease, stepping toward him. You lean forward and press your chest against the mandalorian’s dark visor, wrapping a hand around the back of his head to press him further into you. 
“I’ve noticed that you’ve taken a liking to my chest. Too bad this is the best you can hope for with your creed holding you back.”
You hear him almost growling from within his helmet. 
“So close, yet so far away,” you continue teasing.
His growls turn to moans and his pace increases even faster, he’s desperate. You can only imagine the frustration he must be feeling at this moment. You pull away from him and turn around, pausing with your ass in front of him.
“Well we know how you feel about the view of my chest, what do you think of this?” you playfully ask.
“I…enjoy this, too.” he admits.
“Oh you can do better than that, what do you enjoy so much about it?” you tease.
“I…think you have a nice… backside,” he says, feeling a bit embarrassed.
“Oh yeah?” you chuckle, “Come on, what do you like about my backside?” trying to hold back your laughter at the formal term he used for your ass.
“You have a nice waist, and I like the curve of your hips,” he pants, stroking quicker than before.
“Is that all?” you reply.
“No… You have nice legs too. I think the shape of them is… attractive,” he answers.
His praises make you tingle with excitement. And the unique sense of power you wield over him in this moment is almost intoxicating. You can feel yourself getting wetter with each command he obeys. You’ve had submissive clients in the past from time to time who’d pay for a kinky night out with you, but this is something different. Not only because you promised information he urgently needs, but because he needs this; he’s starving for it. 
“Hands off. Now,” you tell him, glancing over your shoulder. He’s panting, his chest rapidly rising and falling as his cock twitches for you. 
“Such a good listener, I want you to get on the bed. Lay on your back with your arms above your head.”
He obeys your instructions once again. As he situates himself you tiptoe over to him and take his cock in your hand.
“Fuck it,” you order.
He pauses for a moment, as if trying to think of a snappy way to respond to you but his mind is blank. Then, he begins thrusting in the palm of your hand, moaning as you tease him by changing between a more firm, satisfying grip and a much lighter, looser, almost feather-light touch. His orgasm is building up as you relentlessly tease him and his mind becomes lost in a fog.
“How does that feel?” you ask, already sure of his answer.
“It’s frustrating, but at the same time…the building tension is unbelievable,” he admits.
“I could tell. Be a good boy and keep fucking my hand. Show me how much you enjoy it,” you say, becoming more amused as you pull out this Mandalorian’s submissive side.
He follows your orders and continues sliding his cock against your palm. It’s thick, and long, too. He’s so turned on by you, thrusting into your hand and panting beneath you. 
“I’m going to cum,” he tells you.
“No, you’re not,” you say, letting go of his cock completely, “Not yet, at least,” you add.
“Why?” he almost cries out, “Why did you stop?” he asks, gripping the sheets in with fingers as his cock pulses on the brink of orgasm.
“Hold it. Control yourself if you want to hear any more information,” you hiss.
He calms himself, regaining control of his breathing and transitioning from desperate panting to drawing slow shaky breaths. You see his hands relax as he releases his grip on the sheets.
“Very good. Now, let’s see how you handle this.” 
You then crawl over him, positioning yourself above his cock. You touch your cunt gathering some of your own wetness and spreading it over his length before touching the tip to your entrance. 
“Please,” begs.
“Please, what?” you tease, rubbing his tip back and forth against your wet cunt.
“Please, sit on it,” he whimpers.
You lower yourself onto him, sensation is intense as you stretch to fit him inside. He moans in frustration as you sit still on his eager cock. He begins making short thrusts up into your cunt before remembering he must only do as you say and forcing himself to stop.
“Good boy,” you giggle, “I bet you want to cum so bad,” you whisper to him.
“Yes…I do,” he moans, no longer able to feign any sort of self-control.
“Then wait for instructions, if you feel yourself getting close to the edge you need to tell me. Understood?” you say, as you place your hands on his cool metallic chestplate and begin rocking back and forth.
“Understood... and then you’ll tell me what I need to know?... Right?” he pleads.
You give him silence, leaving his mind racing in as you look down at him and continue rocking your hips. You feel your orgasm building up as you’re hit with wave after wave of pleasure, each one more intense than the last. You lean forward on your hands, giving him a clear view of your chest as you pick up your pace. The feeling of being full is beyond belief. Your cunt feels like it’s melting around his cock and you come undone. You ride the high out until you sit still on him, catching your breath as he twitches inside you.
“I’m on the edge… Can I cum now?” he asks with anticipation in his voice.
“Not so fast... I’m not finished with you yet. Beg me for it.” you reply, with a devilish grin on your face.
“Seems a little… unfair,” he points out, still throbbing inside you, fighting to hold himself back as your release runs down his shaft onto his balls.
“Do you want my pity?” you ask, as you reach back and take his balls in your hand, gently fondling them to keep him right on the edge.
“So big and full, been a while, hasn’t it?” you say, adding. “Beg me to let you cum,” with a serious tone underlining your command.
“Is it that obvious?…I travel a lot for work. It’s not often I get the chance to be physical with someone,” he says between breaths, struggling to hold himself back as you play and tease his balls
“Sounds lonely,” you say, almost feeling bad for him at the moment. 
“It can be,” he says, letting out a sigh.
“What can I call you? I know we’re well past introductions, but you must have a name,”  you ask.
“Mando is fine,” he replies in a monotone voice, as you roll his balls in your fingers.
You feel his balls tighten and his cock throbbing even more and he breaks, “Please… May I please cum now?” he begins begging. 
His serious demeanor fading away entirely as he turns to putty in your hands.
“How bad do you want it?” you question.
“I…need it...please…give me permission to cum,” he begs, even more desperate than before.
You raise your satisfied cunt off of him, and the vexed Mandalorian lets out what can only be described as a whimper in the absence of the feeling you gave him just moments ago. Then you crawl forward and hover your soaked cunt over the dark tinted visor of his helmet.
“So close, but so far away, it must be so aggravating for you, Mando. Stroke yourself to the sight of my cunt pressed against your helmet until you cum. Then thank me,” you command.
“Yes, of course, thank you,” he replies, thankful to hear that command but wishing he could have filled you with his release. 
He begins reaching for his cock, just as you ordered, but you interrupt him when he wraps his hand around his cock to issue one final instruction.
“One more thing, Mando. I want to hear you say something, I want to hear you telling me that my cunt is your creed as you stroke yourself over the edge,” you declare in a cold tone, before lowering yourself against his visor.
He almost shivers with anticipation at the sight before replying with a whining, “Do I have to?”
“This is the way,” you say, mocking his creed.
“Okay, fine… Anything else?”
“No, you can go ahead, you’ve earned it,” you say, finally permitting him his climax.
Then he begins stroking himself, slow at first building up speed and rhythmically thrusting his hips into his hand as his grip meets the base, over and over again until you hear him moaning beneath you.
“Your cunt is my creed,” he whispers.
“Again, louder, or I’ll have you stop,” you threaten.
“Your cunt is my creed,” he quickly moans out, this time projecting his voice to avoid being denied by you any more.
“Now cum for me,” you order, as his release shoots out, covering his hand, cock, and lap in a glistening mess.
“Thank you,” he pants, repeating the phrase over and over again in total gratitude, still stroking his throbbing length as his high comes to a close and he catches his breath.
You climb off of him and step off the edge of the bed, quickly slipping into your clothes and darting for the door. Before you make your exit, you take one look back at the scene of what just happened. The sheets bunched, Mando’s cock out, the trail of his precum leading to the bed, his cum stained flight suit, and your release smeared across his visor.
As the door seals behind you, you hear the muffled sound of Mando calling out for you after the realization clicks.
“Wait a minute, you still haven’t told me where Sorrana is!” he shouts. 
You don’t respond, you’re already long gone, having quickly made your way out of the back of the brothel while he puts himself back together. You sneak into a taxi, leaving him behind.
You’re such a good friend to have.
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End note: Everyone say ✨thank you David✨
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Part two
Tag list for David lol: @wannab-urs @toxicanonymity @dark-scape @kirsteng42 @kewwrites @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @theywhowriteandknowthings @jksprincess10 @dins-riduur-anthe @tightjeansjavi @pr0ximamidnight @diversemediums @planet-marz1 @cool-iguana @yamomma19 @basicoccult @pedroshotwifey @pedritosdarling @readingfan @yourlocalmerchgirl @gingaaaaa @xxhypersomnia @pascalpvnk @angel-with-a-heart @love-the-abyss @greensabereyesforcevictim @bluestar22x @beefrobeefcal @josephquinnswhore
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libraryraccoon · 3 months
Note
Kk so I am too lazy to write on my own but I have come up with a pretty good day dream scenario that you can write for ( I might also do it but maybe not).
But a police officer with a strong sense of justice goes to hell and starts trying to organize after spawning in one of the worst areas in hell, even the overlords are hesitant to go in there. But as they gain more and more power the area to clean up expands.
Their really not a bad person , one of the only reasons their there is because they had premarital sex . ( They banged someone's wife when drunk).
Was killed by the husband by a shot in the chest. Now resemble a fox because of their wit and inganuty.
( in sry if it's too specific but you can cut out anything u don't want)
Gender : GN
Pronouns : None
Message from Raccoon : I try to write a police officer!reader, but i'm pretty sure it's bad.
TW : Reader is in Hell 2 years before the series, 🟣 (one time mentionned), violence.
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General Headcanon
In your lifetime you were a police officer, and a good one at that.
But unfortunately, one day you died and arrived in hell.
The person you loved was cheating on their partner with you. They didn't like it and killed you.
You are now in Hell.
Hell sorely lacked justice, but it's okay, you will rectify it.. :)
Vox didn't like you. Like, really.
He heard about you after you nearly beat Valentino to death.
Why did you beat Valentino ? Because he was a 🟣, forcing people to prostitute themselves, and more.
You also beat Velvette a bit because she created the love potions.
So yes, he didn't like you.
He start to hate you when you broke his head/tv when you saw him manipulating people..
It's hell ! What did you expect ?! Everyone manipulates !
A violent police officer. This is what you were.
You killed everyone who did things against your morals... in one month you killed more than the exterminators ever did.
Adam sees you as a sort of rival/person on his level.
Alastor find you entertained.
You were the only one in Hell with a moral, so you were interesting.
He also finds it very interesting that you manage to beat 3 Overlords and that 2 Overlords (Carmilla and Zestial) consider you their equal.
He wanted to come talk to you, but he decided not to after seeing you kill a demon with an angelic weapon because they were cannibals.
Compared to what you might think, he have a sense of self-preservation.
When you arrived at the hotel, as part of security, Alastor was a little scared..
Especially when you pointed your gun at his forehead, where the hunter had shot, killing him when he was alived.
Bonus point if you are a dog demon, he is really scared and wonders if you want to reproduce his death.
Husk love you and love the fact that you can scared Alastor, he live for seeing that man being your victim.
Niffty love you, she think you are a real bad boy ! RIP
You and Vaggie get along well, you both know that not everyone can be redeemed (looking at Alastor from a distance) and you know how fucked up Hell is.
But you help Charlie because some still have a chance to redeem themselves (looking discreetly at Sir Pentious).
Sir Pentious was afraid of you at first, but in the end he start to like you.
You always get him out of the worst situations, I can imagine that you saw Vox try to use his power on Sir Pentious when he was a 'spy', and you directly destroyed the watch by throwing a knife at it.
Sir Pentious didn't even notice you were here-
After that, a long conversation followed about why we should not harm the Hotel and its residents and avoid the Vees.
Sir Pentious thanked you very much for that by the way.
After that Vox received a little visit from you..
If it wasn't for Charlie stopping you from killing him, he would have died instead of just being injured/broken.
Vox spent a week in repair/hospital.
Angel Dust adores you.
Every time you accompany him to work, strangely Valentino gives him the day off..
Yeah, he takes you with him whenever you can.
Even if you hate the Overlords, you are one of them.
Overlord D/N (demon name), the Police Officer of Hell.
Carmilla loves it when you are at meetings, the other Overlords (*cough* Vees *coughs*) are always calm when you are here.
You 🤝 break into Lucifer's house.
Yeah, because well before the hotel, 3 days after your arrival, you break into Lucifer's house.
Why ? Because you found unacceptable that he didn't manage Hell and let the demons do all they want.
You didn't expect to find yourself faced with a depressed father whose wife left 5 years ago and who he no longer really has contact with his daughter.
You had to play therapist and friend.
Literally you were giving him therapy sessions in exchange of him letting you stay at his house.
You don't even have a degree in therapy.
Lucifer considers you as his lifeline. He clings to you for dear life, metaphorically and literally.
Hurt this man and the next day you will find his corpse-
Is this a healthy friendship ? No, but are you going to ignore this fact and pretend everything is normal ? Yes.
You have changed his point of view on demons, in the sense that some, not all but some, can be redeemed.
I headcanon that you repaired Charlie and Lucifer's relationship, and that before the series.
Greatest dad didn't happen, sorry everyone.
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rfswitchart · 2 months
Text
Obligatory Huntlow post for ASIAS anniversary
So, I might as well do an anniversary post for Any Sport in a Storm, shouldn't I?
Pop quiz: When did Willow Park fall in love with the Golden Guard? There's a lot of answers you COULD say for this. Maybe she started realizing it when they were in the Human Realm. Maybe she realized when he grabbed her out of the sky or was in the detention pit with him.....
You COULD say that.... but you'd be wrong. She realized it the moment Hunter stood between the Entrails and Darius. "Wait, how do you know that?" you might ask. Simple. Because as a writer of 25 years and someone who has had many crushes and relationships... I know that kind of body language and tone of voice well.
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"After all, it will be 52 weeks until 'Caleb's' next day off..." Note the way she SAID that. Sly, coy, definite tongue in cheek. The way she's looking over her shoulder back towards him. I mean COME ON, there's a heart shaped cloud just above her head. Hearts being between the two of them is a big tell for that. It's called THEMING. "Ok, but that's just one moment..." Au contraire, did you think I'd come into this with one example? Remember, I WROTE THIS ALREADY. Now, pop quiz #2: Why did Hunter, who had only ever met Willow ONCE know the difference between the real and fake one?
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After all, there is no way he could have known that after just one encounter. You can not determine a person's entire personality based on a sole encounter, no matter how much of an impression it left on you. The answer, again, is simple...
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Because they had been talking over Penstagram since ASIAS. Probably took a while due to Hunter not being used to typing and stuff, but I cannot imagine they weren't talking since that night. It also explains why Willow trusted him so easily during the scout invasion of Hexside. Because it couldn't JUST be the breathing technique that swayed her. After all, Hunter had lied and betrayed her and her friends before.
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...Again with the hearts. THEMING! Anyway, even if we discredit ASIAS and Labyrinth Runners, or how she totally went to kill Kikimora for trying to hurt 'him' (and stopped when she could have hurt him) and ran after 'him' specifically when 'he' was captured (remember, it was Luz, she just THOUGHT it was Hunter) Fine, let's forget all that then...
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Because even if you discount those things, she definitely had a thing for him while they were trapped in the human realm. How do I know? Ok, time to teach you kids about flirting 101.
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"I'm gonna borrow that book when you're done with it! ;)" She's not saying "I want to read that" because she's curious about Cosmic Frontier. She is saying "I want to know more about your interests," and saying it with a tone that says "I want to turn this into a date if I can." Even before when she's taking a picture and shutting down Amity's snarking on Hunter's costume, her body language, her words, her tone. They are all suggesting there's more than just 'friendship' there. When it comes to flirting, it is not WHAT you say, it is HOW you say it.
Also, while I'm on the subject. Willow is canonically Pansexual, she is not Ace. Also, she is not Demi/aromantic, she is heavily guarded and has trust issues from years of bullying and nearly everyone looking down on her or using her as emotional support. I have the same problem for the same reasons, and I know for a fact I am not aro. I am guarded because I've been hurt before, same as Willow. Hunter is the only one who ISN'T like that.
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He doesn't see her as weak and frail, he doesn't rely on her for stuff, and he wouldn't be caught dead hurting her or looking down on her. That is HIS captain, and he'll be damned if he won't see her as anything short of incredible. And boy did he let her know that, more than once.
Anyways, sorry for rambling. Let's all appreciate these two amazing, powerful witches who really do compliment each other's lives.
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mikobeautifulheart · 3 months
Text
JJK MEN Pretending to be your boyfriend/saving you from creeps. PART 3
INCLUDING: Nanami and Toji
TW: Creeps that touch you. but donn' worry they don't get that far. Also like cursing once.
reblogs welcomedddddd
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~Nanami~
You and Nanami worked at the same company in the same department under the same boss. One day you were left at the office finishing up a few more documents.
Nanami stood up from his desk.
"I'm going to get some documents, do you need any?"
"Oh uh, no, thank you though." You said. You knew Nanami was a hard and efficient worker but his nature was serious. However it seemed that you had made some sort of...connection? It was like a friendship but not exactly. It wasn't romantic either but it was close.
You finished one of the documents you had to do before going to the printer to pick up the copy before walking over to your bosses office to leave it on his desk.
"Oh helllloooo" your boss said as soon as you waled through the door.
You thought he was acting strange until you spotted the empty bottle of whiskey on his desk.
"Here are the documents you wanted" you said before placing them on his desk.
"I wouldn't say wanted. Hey how would you like a bonus?" he asked you.
You knew what he was implying, but you wouldn't do that for a few extra dollars or with your boss, you wouldn't even consider having sex for money regardless.
"No thank you- i'll be taking my leave now." you said, turning to walk out the door.
But your boss was one step ahead and moved fast enough to close the door before you could escape.
"Please open the door" you sighed in frustration\
"Now don't be so hasty now you can leave just after you do a little task for me-"
"Don't touch me" you said as he grabbed your wrist pulling you toward his desk.
"NO" you screamed in desperation.
Suddenly the door burst open. There he was, Nanami, there in the door way walking toward you freeing your hand from your drunk boss.
"Don't ever touch my girlfriend again." He said looking at your boss sending him furious death glares.
"Are you okay" he asked you.
You nodded looking up at him in relief.
He walked you out of the office and helped you into his car.
"I'll be right back, I need to get my bag."
Lets just say nobody ever saw your boss again.
♧Toji♧ 
You just quit being a sorcerer to escape from the miserable world of curses and murder. But you couldn't live off doing nothing, so why not take up a few odd jobs in your profession. You hated killing, people and curses so you only took up specific jobs, mainly spying and getting intel for bounty hunters and other organisations. You didn't mind your job but you always carried a small gun with you because your job was still dangerous, just incase you needed to fend for your life.
Tonight one of your long time clients, Toji, requested a meeting to arrange your next job. The meeting was casual at a bar where you two sat at the end of the counter on stools casually talking about the mission and requirements. While you were talking a loud drunk guy was behind you babbling on about your body. It was disgusting but you figured when the meeting was over you'd just leave and it would end there.
Your phone on the counter buzzed and you looked down to see a wealthy clients name. Toji looked to.
"Eh its okay, go answer it" he said while the bar tender put another drink infront of him.
You nodded and walked outside quickly before picking up.
Near the end of your call you heard the bar door open behind you and close.
"Understood, I can get the job done in 2 days. Yes. Yes. I'll get back to you when the job is done."
When you hung up you felt an unwelcomed hand squeeze your butt. You jumped with a squeak before tuning around to see the drunk guy who was talking about you before.
"What do you think your doing?" You said hands on your hips in anger.
"Comon' babyyyyy you should come home with me-" he said clearly drunk but still sober enough to pull out a gun on you.
You put your hands up slightly then slowly moved them down.
"Can we just talk about this, put the gun down and we can figure something out" your left hand slid down your leg to reach for the gun you had.
"Or you could just come with me and nobody gets hurt..." the man said, he pointed the gun upward and sneezed sending one bullet flying through the air. He points the gun back at you before he closes one of his eyes to aim at you.
A gun shot rang through the air and you squeezed your eyes closed bracing for the pain but instead his body hit the ground.
"No need to get your hands dirty doll" Toji said putting his gun down looking at you.
"I think..." you said
"HEY THAT BITCH SHOT HIM" A man yelled outside the bar looking at the man on the ground bleeding out.
"OH YOU'LL PAY FOR THIS" He yelled pointing his finger at you.
"That bitch is my girlfriend and I shot that damn pervert you idiot." Toji said staring at the man.
"And if you touch her, I wont be so forgiving" he said while making a gun sign with his hands and pretending to aim at the mans head.
"Bang." He said mockingly while laughing.
"Come on lemme' drive you home" He said putting his arm around your shoulder walking you to his car.
THANKS FOR READING ♡
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AUTHORS NOTE: I'm making the next part with Sukuna and Choso. That's probably all I will write for this series unless you guys have any one else you want me to write it for. have a nice whenever <3
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blue-sadie · 6 months
Text
Blinded By Feelings
Armitage Hux, Cal Kestis, Poe Dameron, Din Djarin, Anakin Skywalker
They have feelings for you their enemy
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Armitage Hux
He hated you even through he's never met you, he loathed your very being and it only increased when he met you, you were another general that to fought to be the best.
And when you two were together in a meeting or just in passing in the corridors you two would bicker like children over plans or random things that was annoying one of you that day.
He would only realize his feelings when a storm trooper would ask him but he would tell them to shut up and threaten them saying he would throw him into space if he ever spoke something so ridiculous again, but it would cloud his mind days after that.
He would feel disgusted by himself and avoid you by all cost but his efforts went to waste when you come back injured from a mission and he would make it his personal mission to take you to the med bay and scold you at the same time.
"You are stupid as the rebellion if you think you would not get scolded for your actions you could've gotten yourself killed next time at least tell me first so I can get you better storm troopers"
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Cal Kestis
You joined the crew way before he did and had a stronger bond with greez and cere he was kinda jealous it wasn't much of a hatred thing he just found you kinda annoying to be around and would avoid being with you.
Every time you tried talking to him he would ignore you or when you saved him countless times he would just give you a forced thank you but nothing more.
The thing that made him notice is that you would start showing up in his dreams more or when he meditates, he'd find it annoying at first but he'd start thinking about you more and more.
He'd start listening and paying more attention to you which not only freaked you out but the other crew members to, during one of the missions he'd actually listen to your ideas instead of shutting you up.
"You have some really good ideas I should've started listening to you sooner, I'm sorry about that by the way I guess I was just jealous of you"
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Poe Dameron
You were the rebellions best mechanic and the person that would work on his x-wing without his consent he'd hate it even though it needed to be done, he hates it more when you'd leave sticky notes telling him about the up grades you've done to his ship.
He would complain to Leia about you but she'd just laugh and tell him off because your just doing your job so then he'd come complain directly to you but you'd just ignore him continuing on his next up grade.
He'd have a few people tell him that he probably has a crush on you because of him talking about you so much but what really makes him realize is when he sees you talking to others guys and the jealousy he feels.
When returning from one of his missions his x-wing battered and needing repairs he'd actually come straight to you to ask you to repair it for him.
"I know I found it annoying but I've come to realize your up grades are kinda.... helpful after saving me a few times so what I'm trying to say is I'd like you to continue working on my ship"
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Din Djarin
Your were an assassin, killing off the high end people most bounty hunters were afraid to kill, you've also killed a few of his bountys making him pissed.
He's only ever layed eyes on you a few times in crowed bars or a desolate street he doesn't really care about knowing you because why would he get to know his enemy a thief.
He'd only start looking out for you more when you saved him from an ambush you shot his captures in the head and threw him a gun before disappearing again.
He'd be against the idea of ever actually falling for you because of his past experiences but after some more encounters with you he'd would stop you before you vanish again.
"You can reject this offer but I'm still putting it out there, I want you to join me us, it would be alot easier we work together then you stealing my bountys so what do you say"
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Anakin Skywalker
You are master windus padowan and the person he's always compared to why can't you be like yn why can't you take after her, it was something he heard almost everyday which makes him hate you.
He hates how kind you are even through his hateful words he spits your way or when you'd sometimes take the fall for one of his stupid plans he never even thanks you.
He like hux only got the realization when you got hurt, you'd taken a hit that was ment for him, the panic he felt as he watched you fall made him snap and kill whoever did it.
He'd spend day and night by your bedside in the medbay pacing back and forth as he tried thinking about his feelings, they'd only calm down when he sees you awake.
"Don't do that ever again do you hear me, you don't deserve to be here especially because of me I should be in this bed instead of you, do you know what you put me through I thought I lost you"
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