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scenesniper · 6 days

Note

You are my hero 😭 as a nonbinary afab person, I feel like almost all fanfics are meant for cis women. If it’s alright, could I request sfw &/or nsfw headcanons for Aesop please? It’s totally okay if not, thank you for your posts regardless 💜

☆ aesop carl ; general sfw & nsfw headcanons

pairing / aesop carl x afab gn! reader

disclaimer / possession, jealous themes, dacryphilia, overstimulation, mutual & guided masturbation, clothed fingering, mentions of being sex obsessed

word count / 1,346 words

author's note / thank you anon, i'm honored to know that you seen with my works! i went a bit far while writing this and i'm honestly shocked as i thought i didn't write as much.

SFW

☆ aesop carl is a quiet, reserved man. he keeps to himself, something that everyone knows all too well. he’s neat and tidy, nothing is ever misplaced as long as it’s aesop carl’s belongings. visitors would visit the mortuary and the sight of aesop being in charge was considered to be a blessing in that little town, a good sign as yours or your loved one’s will would be properly passed on by his respectable hands.

☆ meeting you and getting to know you, he’s unsure on what to think of you as. you’re just an inexplicable mystery to him. in fact, there’ll probably be times where he would believe what he feels for you is loathing.

☆ if you’re quiet, he’ll still think of you as annoying albeit he’s fond to those silent. if you’re loud and chatty, he’ll want to just shut up and imagine you still and dead but then felt uncomfortable with the idea of you dead, a thought he’s unfamiliar with.

☆ he will find your presence more bearable over time but would keep to himself, only truly looking at you in the distance. he wouldn’t pursue you per se, it would start off slow, aesop believing he’s involving himself in your life with the occasional nod and a greeting regarding the time of day (which only happens little often as aesop doesn’t want to admit, he yearns for an emotional connection with you).

☆ if by a miracle, he shows a bit of himself to you, take that opportunity as fast as you can as he’s fast to hide back in his shell. aesop is a listener. if you have a lot to say, he’ll listen despite not being very interested in what people tend to say, he’ll hyperfocus on you. if you’re not much of a talker, he enjoys your silent company. he’s not very fond of small talk, he prefers long and detailed conversations with depth.

☆ aesop randomly thinking about you during his day, whether it’s when he’s doing his job or he’s out late at night with little to no energy but a mere little lunch, that’s when he knows that there is something about you that his subconscious just desires. aesop is a possessive and easily jealous man but even he, himself does not acknowledge that. he feels entitled over you.

☆ getting to date aesop carl, you will have to be very patient as he prefers having it at his pace. it’ll start off with his shoulders brushing against yours, a quick glance at your direction, discreetly holding your wrist. you seriously questioned if he even liked you.

☆ aesop is a private man and is not a big fan of intimacy or public displays of affection. he hasn’t touched many people in his life, minus the dead bodies that he has to attend to. so for that very reason, he’s highly sensitive to the touch of another.

☆ once he does get a bit more comfortable (which will still take quite some more time), he’s prone to being easily flustered by you and your actions. if you got too impatient by his advances and started to lead the relationship, he gets very flustered by avoiding your gaze and covering his mouth, inadvertently unaware that he’s wearing a face covering.

☆ kissing with aesop is like a quick dream. not that it’s heavenly, but it goes by so far you can barely register anything of it and question what it even was. at first, he’ll give you quick pecks on the lips and call it a day. as you grow closer with him, those quick pecks would turn into needy kisses for you.

☆ he needs to feel you, skin to skin. your warmth and your little quiver, memorize the shape of your lips and mold his mouth with yours. he’s an absolute messy kisser (and not that very good with it). he’ll try to reciprocate your actions if you try your best to amend his awkward kissing but it’s all for naught. aesop is a fast learner and will learn but when he wants you, no, needs you, and you’re looking at him with that beautiful look that he so loves. he’s just going to go in with no thoughts attached behind it.

NSFW

☆ aesop isn’t the kind to touch himself, really, he’s never paid attention to his physical needs. never having anything to really think about while touching himself, he found it completely dull and tiring. until you, his muse. he’ll pleasurably touch himself to thought of you inside the confines of his bedroom with only a singular candle, its’ light dying away deep in the night. the guilt questionable as he got off more to how disrespectful he felt.

☆ having sex with aesop, he sees sex as something so intimate that it should only be kept in the bedroom and the bedroom only. he will be viewing your body more of like an examination as he does with corpses, his gaze not timid. he’ll touch the areas he’s expecting reactions from you and drag his gloved finger on your body, just for you to squirm over his cold touch.

☆ he’s average in size, it’s skinny but he does know how to use it. he loves doing all sorts of positions with you, each night a new position. he wants to feel all sorts of intimacy with you in every way possible. he loves to pin your hands above your head, your wrists would over time begin to strain from the pressure he’s giving your wrists.

☆ if you wear lipstick, he loves it plastered all over his collar. he finds it so appealing. he absolutely loves tears in the bedroom and god does he have an orgasm fixation. cry for him, whine for him, beg for him. gasp his name and hold him tight by his shoulders or grip his thighs. he loves to wipe your tears. “shh darling.. you’re so good so far.”

☆ mutual and guided masturbation. he loves being enchanted by the sight of you, staring at him in such a vulnerable state. he can’t contain himself, he has to touch himself as well. he loves guided masturbation for both ways, especially you directing him where he can and where he can’t touch to those areas that needs the most attention. he loves to be in control of your autonomy in this way, hearing you beg him. it’s serene.

☆ he doesn’t like the being all sweaty and your heated bodies touching one another so most of the overstimulating is from him fingering you. he does it with his gloves, in a trance every time he sees your essence staining his clothed fingers by the end of it every night. he loves to admire your cum seeping out but quickly tries to clean it up with his fingers as he’s not a big fan of the mess.

☆ once aesop has felt and got sex on his mind, he’s going to be completely sex obsessed. he’s always thinking about you with little to no clothing, in a cute little lace lingerie. those are the thoughts that’s been keeping him going after a tiring day at work. all he can think about is him being inside you, his fingers on your body and inside that perfect spot that he knows will have your back arching every time.

☆ aftercare with aesop is him always cleaning up. there will always be a bath followed immediately after he finishes changing the sheets and wiping your body off, preferably bathing together as he feels after a physically charged act with one another, this simple act of familiarity makes it feel more like he’s living.

☆ after the bath, he will rest in bed with you either being up for a few more minutes thinking about the littlest of things and salvage the importance of this memory. he’ll lean in with a forehead kiss, for the first few moments in his life, he’s finally content with his life. “rest well, doll.”

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hellsfirekeepsyouwarm · 2 years

Text

Don't Come to Me Pt. 5.

Oh hello there. This was a freaking rollercoaster for me. I struggled with motivation for the last 2 months, so please be kind to me, i literally sweat tears and blood with this (can you see me over exaggerate?). It's smut, and im not the best in that, i would like to have some feedback if it's good or not. Thanks guys for baring with me.

Billy Russo X F!Reader, mentions of Frank Castle X F!Reader

Warnings: Cursing, fingering, orgasm denial, unprotected PinV, cream+pie, Billy being full of himself as always, kinda obsessed with the thought of beating Frank

Summary: After an unsuccessful attempt of killing his best friend, Billy comes home to you waiting for him in his house , his clothes, drinking his beer. And he believes that is a bigger win than he can ever achieve against Frank.

Taglist: @gwynethhberdara @icarus-isflying @intothesoul @malfoyeyess

(let me know if you want to be removed or added to the taglist)

Part 4 Part 6

It was fucking obvious by that time that Frank won't take up that deal. He won't just grab his new name, his hopes and reams, if he has any outside of bloodlust, and walk into Billy's trap. Billy knows now it was a longshot, but Frank's face told him another story. He saw that tiny little sparkling light that he might do just what Billy told him he should do.

His mind was racing as he left the docks, the last few long hours now felt like a dream, a small piece of his memory, while in reality it was the most torturing hours in his whole life.

He and his crew picked out just for this, for killing his brother, waited and waited patiently until there was no denying it anymore. Frank choose to stay, and he was relieved, then angry then numb. He wished Frank just showed up so he could end it, and have his normal life back, but the fucking guilt ate him away when he let his mind wonder long enough. Wonder to you. How devastated you'll be when Frank disappears from your life. But he'll be there for you, picking up the pieces and erase Frank Castle from your memory. He'll be just a sad blurry face in your mind, Billy will make sure he is filling every empty slots in your memory, not leaving space for anybody else.

He can taste success on his tongue when he finds you on his couch, in his t-shirt looking bored out of life until your eyes lit up with fire when you realize he's there.

"Darling why are you up? It's past two, told you not to wait for me." Yeah he told you, but he's over the moon that you in fact stayed up. The past week he mainly saw you sleepy, in a hurry to get in work in time, or for in stolen moments in your lunch break. Not how he imagined to win you over, but life just kept interfering, putting obstacles between you to make it harder for him.

Oh but goddamn you look out of this world as you bounce of the couch crashing your body into his, snaking hands up to his neck to pull him down for a kiss. You taste like beer, bitter but refreshing. When you let go, he can see the empty bottle on the coffee table.

"I see you had fun time without me." He teases, pulling you closer by your hips, the shirt on you wrinkling up revealing the bottom of your ass. He wants to do so many things right now, your skin burning through the fabric where his palm pressed against you.

"Nah, just passed the time. Thought i just wait for you and have some of that date you promised me." Uh, burn. He did promised you a date, but of course work got in the way. Again. You aren't bitter or angry with him, a bright smile reaching your eyes, but he knows you were excited about the night. He must look like a sad puppy because your voice softens.

"I arrived late too, so don't worry about it. Life's been busy." He can't help but wonder, were you busy with Frank? Or did he stayed away like he said he would? You are here, in his apartment, wearing his clothes, drinking his beer so that's a good sign. He wants to ask, to pry, to interrogate you about everything you and Frank talked or did. He's dying to know every detail.

"Earth to William! Hello!" You wave you hand in front his face, that makes Billy refocus on your lovesick expression, eyes searching for his, fingerstips caressing the nape of his neck.

"You are so fucking beautiful." He breaths before crushing his lips to yours.

Frank said the same thing a couple nights ago. The same thing but inherently differently. Billy's words have needs and wants. Every letter is coated with something primal. It's shaking your insides, goosebumps appearing on your skin.

Frank's words were soft, unintended. He took you off guard, in the middle of talking about your stupid day, stupid life, stupid nothings. In that moment you forgot what's happening and happened to him. He made you smile ear to ear, thanking him as your finger brushed your hair out of your face.

You don't wan to compare them, it's not fair, not right on so many levels. But you can't help it.

Life just dropped two handsome and difficult men into you lap at the same time to deal with, and you don't have a clue how you'll gonna do it.

"Earth to Y/N!" Billy tilts his head, searching your face for any sign of you being present, slightly mocking you with his choice of words. You collect yourself, mind slipping back to here and now, feeling his hands on your waist massaging and circling your clothed skin.

"Kiss me again." You demand softly with closed eyes. Need. You feel the matching energy, the same yearning you feel and see on Billy. "Please kiss me."

Nothing happens, you can feel his hot breath on your face, his body stays still and it scares you. Maybe you said something wrong? Did something wrong?

You open your eyes a little, seeing him stunned from your words. His eyes moves from your eyes to your lips, his mouth slightly parted, chest rising and falling heavily. Gosh he's beautiful.

"Billy?"

"Say it again." He croaks. His dreamy expression twists into something animalistic.

"Kiss me." You repeat, now self conscious hearing yourself clearer. You blush like crazy, and you'd like to run and hide, but his hands are firm on you, and his face is priceless. Like you confessed your undying love for him. You might did with these simpler words."Have me."

It just slips, and now you can't stop. You start playing with the hem of his coat, pushing it painfully slow over his shoulders. "Make me feel good."

He does just that. Your feet leaves the ground, Billy scooping you up by grabbing your ass, forcing you to hang your legs around his hips. The air is thick as he tries to get a good taste of you, his tongue hungrily battling with yours, you biting down on his lower lip earning a deep groan of his. It's music to your ears.

You stumble into the bedroom, bumping into stuff on the way, making you giggling into his mouth, kissing his smirk away. All the noise in the room is your wet sloppy battle of your mouths, moans and little whispers, a big yelp from you when he buries you under him while dropping into the bed he didn't touched for days now.

He's like the fog. Coats and fills everything and anything. He's all on you, chest pressed against yours, lips on your neck, nibbling the skin, hands roaming every reachable part of you. He is all you can see, hear and feel at this moment. Nothing else just William.

"Is this good?" He roars in your ear, suddenly so loud and raging, but in reality his voice was merely above a whisper. "Hmm?"

"Yes.." Wish you could gain back your ability to speak. You can't find your voice, the only thing you can concentrate on is his jeans causing a sweet friction between your thighs. You breath hitches in your throat when his hips pushes your legs wider, reaching your core clothed in just a thin panties.

"Gosh, do that again." You don't know what he really means, you can't remember what was your thought a second ago, the thrust of his hips against you forces a loud moan out of you. "There we go, that's it. Again."

He repeats, faster and harder, your head spins with the pleasure building up inside you. He's teasing you, and he enjoys it more than anything else in this world, you can see it on his face. Smug, wide toothy grin, satisfied with his affect on your whole being.

You became erratic, trying to peel his clothes off with shaky hands, eagerly grasping any and every part of him you can reach, he lets out a low chuckle, embarrassment growing in the back of your head, still not enough to stop you from nudging his shirt, playing with the buttons. You are just fumbling, he's the one doing the work of undressing himself for you, and you keep hearing his smiley scoffs watching you get greedy.

His eyes shifts between you and the buttons, cursing faintly when the last one is putting up a fight with his fingers. You push his hands aside, undoing the button easily, and the relief on his face is priceless. He tosses the clothing on the ground, his muscles shifting and moving under his glowing skin.

"You are fucking amazing." You breath out, looking up into his eyes, he needs to know you mean it. Every word of praise and love, you mean it. He's taken aback a little, looking at you the same he did when you kissed him back in the living room. Like you are out of this world, a dream come true.

He kisses you with burning fire, pulling your shirt over your head, leaving you bare and naked, not wasting any time to get to know closer all that skin he never touched before. You gasp when his mouth locks on your nipple, then the other, switching between them, leaving wet patches all around you chest, his breath making you shiver against his body heat.

The heat that retreats suddenly, forcing you to lift your heavy eyelids. He towers over you, positioned between you thighs, watching you with darkened eyes. Scanning your face, chest and belly, his gaze travelling down to your panties, already soaked.

You watch him mesmerized, eagerly waiting for what he's about to do. Well, if you can wait it out. You hips rocks against him softly, your arms twitching while you calculate if you can reach him from your position. He might realized you don't have the patience for his teasing right now, his big hand pressed down on your lower belly, thumb slowly sliding down to your clit, making you gasp loudly. He doesn't stop there, after a tiny pressure he goes further, brushing the wet material, mumbling under his nose.

"Damn fucking hell." He slides his thumb up and down for a couple of times before pushing your panties to the side. Not wasting any time, he slips his middle finger inside you, gently picking up a nice and steady pace pounding in and out. Your hips rock against his finger, when you think you can get the right rhythm, his thumb pushes down on your little bud, another finger joins his middle one, completely throwing you off course. He's the one in charge, and you are compliant to whatever he wants to do with you.

Just the sheer sight of you pushes Billy to the edge. Spread wide under him, vulnerable just for him, moaning and sighing in pleasure while his fingers works. He can't believe he missed out on you all these years, the perfect woman was in front of his eyes all along, who would have given him everything on this world, including herself, in and out.

His thoughts adding fuel to his own need, his cock twitching in his pants when you flutter around his fingers. Billy hears you muttering. Sometimes it's i want you, i need you, sometimes it's have me, i'm yours. He swears it's the biggest turn on hearing you pleading, for him, for anything he can give.

He can feel you nearing your climax, your breaths rapid, hips swinging faster into his hand. At this point you are fucking yourself on his fingers. He has to slows down a little, and you whine in response, your hands moving between you legs, trying to force Billy's hand to continue with the previous fastness.

But he denies you this, smirking seeing your frustrated face, eyelids open slightly, he knows you barely can see through them, lost in his touch.

He continues to play with your folds, his hand sliding easily on your wetness, up and down. He frees himself from the now uncomfortable pants with his gree hand, pushing it down just enough to not be in the way. He strokes his length before adjusting himself between your legs, ready to replace his fingers.

He waits for you, your face telling everything you feel, and when you arch your back, butt pushing down into the mattress, he retreats his wet fingers earning a painful whine from you again, he groan with a big smile on his face. He slides your juices on his dick, grabbing your body still rocking back and forth, his fingers digging into the flesh of your waist, and when he catches you in the right moment, he slides inside with a torturing sweet sound. You moan grabbing his hand with one hand, the other desperately clutching onto the sheets.

He would kill for this to never end. You whining under him as he makes literal love to you. He's not too rough and not to gentle. He imagined taking you in every way, but vanilla wasn't in these fantasies. But it's just perfect.

The room is filled with your breaths and groans, the wet sound of Billy's smashing into you with a slap of skin. Billy leans down to kiss your parted lips, hands on your torso, leaving lingering touches every inch he can reach. He wants to engrave this in his memory, every second to remember.

Your chest pushed against his, letting Billy's lips discover every sensitive spot, your fingers caressing the nape of his neck.

Usually he's more talkative, asking questions and demanding answers, but that's with a usual woman. He would be rougher, he would put his hands around your pretty neck and squeeze every time a little when he slides out. But he feels no need when you are giving him everything he wants, your body signaling everything to him, your hand guiding him if needed, face telling him what you like the most.

So when a frown appears on you, your hand clutching on his hair a little too harshly he knows you are getting close. Your voice following proves his suspicion.

"Billy, i'm.."

"I know baby. Faster or harder?" He needs to know which one will be the one taking you to your high, and you reply eagerly.

"Har...der" You can't finish the word properly, his hips smacking to you so hard you lose your breath. And he continues to do it with his fingers circling on your clit. Soon he feels your body tremble, your thighs shaking around his body. "C'mon baby." He whispers breathless, a kind of nudging for you to let go, and you do.

He groans when your walls hugs him inside, for a moment he enjoys the sensation before picking up the pace again to chase his own release. It's his time to get lost in you, and it's so easy to lose control when he still can feel the aftermath of your high, you legs pushing his ass closer to your body. The warmness of your aching cunt mixed with the taste of victory guided by your whispering encouraging him to come undone inside you makes him feral. His moves gets sloppier, slower but harder before cumming in a crushing force. Oh and it's the best he ever had.

His body collapses on top of yours, Billy is already feeling the weight of sleep, the long day behind him catching up with him. He wanted to do more, have you in every way, or at least fall asleep still inside you.

Gosh he wants you forever, be commited to him, loyal to him, his desire to keep you for the rest of his life grows with the small kisses you pamper him with while he recovers on top of you. His whole weight is on you, he comes to his senses quick when you shift under him a bit. He pulls out slowly with the rise of his other parts, you whimper feeling him leave you empty. You let him out of the grasp of your legs, a small smile gracing your exhausted face.

He can't help but think about how fucking dumb Frank would look if he would tell him how sweetly you let him inside your body. How you pleaded to him to cum when he is balls deep and after all that, you lay spread out still, satisfied with his cum dripping out of you.

The only think he can think about is how badly he wants to describe detail to detail to Frank what he did to you tonight, to make it clear you are his.

#billy russo x reader #billy russo imagine #billy russo smut #billy russo #frank castle imagine #frank castle #dont come to me

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the-pale-goddess · 2 years

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How is Miss T spending her 30th birthday?👀✨ Does she celebrate it? How does she feel about the 3 and the 0?

Anon, my beloved! Can’t thank you enough for this question and your interest in Tiffany! You’ve made my heart so full 🥹❤️❤️❤️

The big 30 deserves a triple celebration, and that’s exactly the gift I’ve given to my girl 🥂 I went a little overboard with this response, sorry 😅

Warnings: we’re discussing E&T, so expect references to some adult activities jsvksvskvs

Actual birthday

Tiffany insisted that reaching 30 is not a big deal, so she chose to work on August 22nd.

Waving her twenties goodbye wouldn’t make any real difference in her everyday life, but it was symbolic, and this seemingly irrelevant detail put her in a weird, reflective mood.

Ethan knew it was a pretty big deal for her after all. For weeks prior, he watched her stare in the mirror looking for new wrinkles (there were none, but she would always find a reason to shake her head at her reflection and sigh) or plucking out stray gray hairs.

He could tell she’s got a lot on her mind, but she put her brave face on, covered her melancholy with a thick layer of humor and tried to deal with it on her own without burdening others as per usual.

The prospect of entering thirties made her feel a bit lost and confused. Usually confident and fearless, Tiffany suddenly didn’t know which path to choose and how to do it. But the reckless times of irresponsible youth, even if she rarely acted that way, were over. She lost access to that gray area of life where mistakes were allowed. She had to make some life-shaping decisions, and she had to make them soon.

With no hesitation, Ethan decided to be the distraction and support Tiffany needed while her self-searching quest continued.

You bet that E&T were late to work that day 🤡 Tiffany’s ever-caring and thoughtful partner made sure her day started on a high note: with a hearty breakfast in bed and morning sex.

He got up early to spoil her with her favorite Italian style omelette, freshly squeezed orange juice and delicious coffee.

Though he tried his best to be as quiet and sneaky as possible, T woke up anyway. Careful not to ruin the surprise, she pretended to be asleep, but Ethan saw through her act.

Then fucked her senseless just the way she likes.

The afterglow snuggling made it impossible to simply leave the bed and get ready for work, so they stayed in a little longer, enjoying each other’s company and engaging in pillow talk.

Inspired by the occasion, Ethan felt the need to verbalize some of his thoughts.

„You’re well aware that I’m not fond of birthdays, but…I’m immensely grateful for you, and I want you to know how special you are. How important you are to me.”

Tiff (being Tiff) joked in response, saying that Ethan’s advanced age made him sentimental. The truth, hovewer, was evident; her heart filled with overwhelming happiness—she was exactly where she wanted to be: loved, in love, and accomplished, with bright future ahead of her. The thought brought her comfort and boosted her confidence. Little did she know that in a few months her world would turn upside down 🤰🏻ksbksbskbs

Edenbrook celebrated Doctor Addams with a lot of noise—slightly embarrassed and deeply moved Tiff received many wishes and small gifts from fellow doctors and her favorite patients.

After work, E&T had a low-key dinner in one of Tiffany’s favorite sushi restaurants, then drove home to get the finest dessert on the menu 😏

Speaking of desserts…Ethan almost forgot about the most important part of his plan, the birthday cake—a criminal offence, really. After they finished each other They finished the day eating the fancy cake on the balcony, their spent bodies loosely wrapped in the sheets.

Tiffany was obsessed with the choice: vanilla supreme made with custard sauce and Bourbon vanilla, homemade blackcurrant jam, hazelnut dacquoise. Devouring this deliciousness under the stars, comfortably seated in Ethan’s lap as they watched Boston twinkle at night, was definitely worth the wait.

Of course Ethan received a rich reward for his efforts: T went extra with her dinner outfit and new lingerie. She’ll do anything to make him speechless 💅🏻

Birthday party

The gang wouldn’t let Tiffany say goodbye to her youth without a proper party, so she accepted her fate and decided to give in: a fun celebration for her friends takes place on Saturday. One of her sisters, Cynthia, is coming over from San Francisco.

It’s even more special because she organized it with Sienna (whose birthday I HC to be in July)—Miss Trinh waited a month just to have a joint birthday bash with her bestie.

Birthday trip

Last, but not least: a special gift from Ethan! In two weeks, he’s taking Tiff to Ireland where she’ll finally have an opportunity to explore her roots.

Their sightseeing focuses on Galway (her grandparents’ hometown) and the country’s most beautiful natural wonders such as the Cliffs of Moher or the most scenic routes of The Ring of Kerry.

The most exciting part of their vacation, the Galway trip, was meticulously planned by Ethan with the expert help of Tiffany’s Nanna offering some bits of their family history. Unrelated fun fact: Mrs Byrne adores Ethan to bits—she was actually the first and only person in T’s fam to give him a warm welcome.

Initially, they intended to mix Tiffany’s thirty with Ethan’s fourty (30th December for my Capricorn King 🫶🏻), but in the end decided to use his birthday as an excuse for another Eurotrip around January/February (*coughs* remember The Tape?).

I posted a little peek into T’s bday trip shenanigans, you can find the ficlet here ❤️

#Q #tiffany addams #ethan ramsey #ethan x mc #ethan x tiffany #❤️❤️❤️#i didn't proofread this #i wrote this in 15 minutes while hiding from the rain sorry if it doesn’t make sense lol #open heart fanfiction #Tiffany’s Dirty Thirty

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belovedyandere · 2 years

Note

so i was thinking like...what about yandere doctor??? like patient reader goes to the hospital for a check up and the doctor is just like 😳😳😳

cw. codependency, control, dacryphilia, dubcon, kidnapping, manipulation, medication, needles, sadism, sedation, overstimulation, sexual themes, top yandere x bottom reader, undisclosed illness, yandere themes

yandere doctor over here smiling gently once you enter the room while internally screaming at the utter radiance you emit. is continually and subtly wiping his mouth to make sure he’s not drooling.

he, without exception, has always presented himself as a collected, gentle, clean and polite man— very charming and kind, which is why he was in a state of absolute confusion when he first met you. it was like his whole persona was on the edge of being exposed, all because of you. at first he wasn’t pleased that you were able to do that, especially since you weren’t aware of it at all. so the first visit, although your appearance caused him to stumble and stutter (which mind you, he has never done before), he was somewhat cautious but that cautiousness flew out the door while you both conversed.

he would have been the definition of gobsmacked during that moment.

as a doctor, patients beyond patients, all of which were never in the least interesting. watching paint dry was more intriguing to him than speaking to a patient. it was strange as to why he chose this profession, but it all led to such gratefulness for it led you to him.

in the first visit, once he’d gotten comfortable, he’ll portray himself as he has always done. except this is genuine kindness, true politeness. as his patient, he will do everything in his power to keep you returning to his clinic. he’ll log and keep all information of you; blood type, weight, height, address, number, and much more with him. he’ll take it home, sip wine and read it over and over again. trying to figure out what he can possibly say to keep you regularly returning to be checked. he’ll give you medicine, just the right ones where you’ll feel better but you need more of his aid. he’ll hand you his number, just as a ‘precaution’ if you need anything when it’s not office hours, encourages you to call him. boy does he have the biggest smirk when you do call him.

i can clearly visualise his obsession over you. how as he is taking care of his other patients, placing a stethoscope while imagining he is using this tool to listen to your own heartbeat. how every needle he sees, he has the urge to place sedatives and release them into your blood stream just so he can have that control over you— being your doctor won’t be enough the more these urges grow. recording every phone call you have with him, cutting so he only hear your voice and use it to sleep or even use it while doing mundane tasks.

oh my, the times you are asked to reveal parts of your body for examination. the times where he comes close to you. he has to clench his teeth and tell his heart to shut up from the loud, hard beating. the breathlessness he feels when you mindlessly sit there, not truly knowing how his mind is creating all sorts of dirty, cruel scenarios of you crying on his clinical bed, your body twitching and legs spread while you whine that it’s too much and you can’t go on but you never make the effort to stop him at all. you snap him out of it by asking if he’s okay cause he had gone quiet, and you look up at him with wide, innocent eyes. those eyes he wanted to dirty. to see his reflection in them when you would cry.

“Yes, I’m perfectly alright, Miss/Sir/Mx (y/n). Thank you for worrying.”

i see him manipulating you, creating small thoughts in your mind so subtly yet so effectively where you begin to depend on him. and that is what he so dearly wants. to control you. to have you bend to your knees when he asks without question. when you give him all details of your life so easily. and the time you finally let go of resistance and let him have your body. sadistically opening your inner walls with his tools, while still speaking to you in his sickeningly gentle voice. his eyes gleaming when he sees your face when climaxing, his finger twitching from the very sight of it. wanting to grab you by your hair and have your mouth engulf him. no matter how many times he cums, he keeps going because even at the prospect of overstimulating himself, you just feel so good.

and once you’re too weak to move and on the brink of passing out, he sneaks you out from the clinic and to his home, jolting you awake with medication just so the two of you can keep going like animals. and then he cleans you up and cuddles your body to his, both of you drifting off to sleep. and you all live happily ever after!

in his mind.

#yandere doctor #doctor smut #doctor yandere #yandere smut #gender neutral reader #belovedyandere oc

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hitnran · 3 years

Text

OBSESSIVE EX (gender neutral! reader)

how they deal with you having an obsessive ex

includes: ran, rindou

CW: obsessive behavior, cursing, stalking (ran), phone harassment (rindou), the haitani brothers lowkey kinda scary here (not to the reader) 💀 but i’m just trying to make it fit within their character

— RAN HAITANI

Getting into a relationship with someone like Ran, half of the charismatic brother duo that ruled Roppongi, almost means guaranteed safety wherever you go. His title itself is one that is feared when murmured. Whenever you two leave, he always has an eye and a hand on you. Ran knows well that even if he is feared, he can also be challenged and the last thing he wants is for you to get involved — you would make an easy target for his enemies.

You two were out together on a stroll around the city. Although there was nothing neither of you needed, Ran’s favorite thing is showing you off. Sometimes you start to feel similar to his younger brother, thinking that you’re just a shadow and only known as ‘Ran’s partner.’ But Ran’s intentions were opposite. He wanted everyone to know that it was him that belonged to you and it is him that people would have to deal with if you were ever tested.

As you two are walking, Ran noticed your eyes consistently checking itself to the side. He took note of that and eventually brushed it off since you stopped. But then he noticed that you were being especially keen and scanning the whole area.

“Are you okay, love?” Ran slightly hunches down, getting your attention as your face turns his way. He lightly smiles at you. “Did you see something you liked?”

You swallowed down hard. You could’ve sworn you saw a familiar face, but after trying to scan the area numerous times for the past few minutes, you thought it was just you being paranoid. The last thing you wanted was to worry Ran and cause a scene.

“I’m okay,” You shook your head, returning a light smile. You grabbed on his arm, this time a little tighter. “Let’s turn into this corner.”

Ran knows when you’re lying. He knew something made you uncomfortable, but he wasn’t going to force you to tell him. Instead, he’ll make it his own problem too and deal with it himself.

This area was his territory and everyone knew it. It was almost as if Roppongi, a city known for liveliness, calmed down ever so slightly if one or both of the brothers were out. Everyone’s gaze wound be kept low and their conversations would go mute as they walk by.

At that moment, Ran could feel a pair of eyes staring your way. He won’t make it obvious though.

“Love,” Ran called out to you. You looked up his direction and he placed a hand against your lower back. “Rindou’s gonna throw a fit if I don’t bring back food for him. How about you go into the restaurant and order first while I call him and ask what he wants?”

You felt at ease hearing that you two were finally going to be in somewhere indoors, but it made you nervous that he would be separated from you for just a little while.

“Don’t wanna bring something back he won’t like and have him complain,” Ran lightly laughed, trying to ease your clear discomfort. He placed a hand over your head. Taking out his phone to add to his act. “I’ll be quick.”

After some hesitation, you gave in. It was a public space after all, so it shouldn’t have been anything to worry too much about. He watched as you entered the place before turning around, sending chills to the person who had been following you two around this whole time.

“Would be a shame if I left them alone for too long, wouldn’t it?” Ran gave off a sinister grin, slowly walking towards the person. “Wouldn’t want anyone to take them away…especially someone like you.”

Ran knew who this person was. He was an obsessive ex of yours that just would not leave you alone and accept the separation despite it being years passed. He gulped hard, nervously stepping back, not thinking that he would get caught.

“You were so bold to even follow us in the first place, why so shy now?” Ran smirked, hiking up the sleeves of his sweatshirt. “This is the first time you’ve heard of me or something? I should introduce myself to you well and hard then.”

Almost ten minutes had passed since you’ve been waiting for Ran. You sat patiently and waited. Your best guess as to what’s taking him so long revolves around Rindou. Maybe he was complaining about how he wanted food from a different place or being picky about menu opinions. Just as you were about to raise yourself from your seat to check up on Ran, you saw him enter.

“Did I make you wait too long?” Ran appeared, seating himself in front of you. The worse case scenario you had in mind was that he got into a fight, but in front of you, he looked just as how you last saw him. “You know how Rindou is.”

Your chest became relaxed and you gave a small smile, shaking your head, “What did he want from here?”

“I didn’t even listen to what he said,” Ran teased, opening up his menu and leaning back against the chair. You felt his legs sandwich your calves from beneath the table. “He can order it himself. All my money is going to you today.”

And that was how Ran liked it. Although Ran wanted everyone to know that he belonged to you, he knew how important it was for others to know that you belonged to him too. The image of the face of your ex is burned so clearly into his brain — face all bloodied up, mauled almost, as he failed to even whisper for forgiveness.

“I think there’s only one way I’m gonna let you outta here alive,” Ran kicked his body down with force, hearing something shift in his jaw. He couldn’t give half a damn about it. “Do you know what that is?”

Your ex was visibly beaten and weak now, barely able to even blink or properly form a sentence. Though, with his adam’s apple slightly moving from fear, Ran took it as a response.

Grabbing him by his hair upward, Ran bent down, looking straight at him, “You’re gonna leave them alone and never show your goddamn face again. If it wasn’t fucked already before, it sure is now. I promise you I’ll know if you’re even barely visible or a mile away, I won’t hesitate to kill you.”

Ran thought it was so disgusting how someone like you could ever have your time wasted on someone low like this ex of yours. Even if Ran saw him and his brother above everyone else, he always put you above him.

“Maybe even after this, I’ll send one of my men to go and beat the shit out of you every day so you could suffer for as long as you’ve tried to bother Y/N.”

— RINDOU HAITANI

Rindou can’t even remember what it took for you two to even reach this state of your guys relationship. He convinced himself that it was Ran, his older brother who wouldn’t shut up about how he was going to take you if Rindou didn’t make a move.

It genuinely surprises himself even whenever he looks your way, observing every detail and soaking in the idea that you are someone he can call his.

You two were watching a movie, or rather, supposed to. Rindou was too focused on side-eyeing you every now and then. You caught him a few times, but he would brush it off with comments like “this movie is boring” or “I’m just checking to see if you fell asleep.”

He would snap himself out of a trance after hearing your phone ring beside you. You eyed it once, looking at the caller ID and ignoring it. It wasn’t enough to cause Rindou to worry - it’s not his problem if you just didn’t wanna answer a call, it was your guys’ time anyway.

But then it rang once more again. Your ringtone dragged itself out halfway through before Rindou slightly raised his hand from your hip, pointing to the phone on the side of the couch.

“You not gonna answer that?” He asked.

You shook your head, eyes focused on the TV, “It’s fine. It’s an unknown caller ID.”

Rindou shrugged, ignoring it once again, but after a few more calls and your phone receiving back to back text messages, it was starting to irk him. He was close to just grabbing your phone and answering the call himself, but you were quick to act before him, just shutting it off.

“It must be spam or something,” You sighed, sitting back down.

“Yeah, well whatever it is, good thing you shut that damn thing off. That shit was annoying,” Rindou sighed, curling his arms around you again. “Let’s change the movie too or something. This one is boring.”

One thing about dating Rindou is that he seems uninterested in absolutely everything he does. Although you avoid thinking like that when it comes to your relationship with him, you always remind yourself that Rindou is someone who deeply cares for you. He shows it very differently compared to others, but you know.

He can recall a memory from a few weeks ago where you kept getting calls in the middle of your guys’ date. It annoyed him, but not as much as it annoyed you. You’ve pressed the red decline button at least five times now, stressing over it and spilling out everything about your previous ex.

At the end of your rant, Rindou grabbed your phone, picking up the call and saying words as simple as “leave them alone.” It was so simple, but for the next few weeks, it was silent. You finally thought you were free of harassment thanks to your boyfriend, but recently, they’ve been coming back as unknown caller IDs and more frequent than before.

Halfway through the movie, Rindou felt your body become more loose and relaxed beneath him. Your breath became slower and more steady. You had fallen asleep. He thought it was ironic to have someone as angelic as you in the arms of someone like him - a gang member always involving himself in trouble, even just for fun.

He stared at your phone just a reach away and then back at you. The last thing Rindou wanted was for you to be uncomfortable, or really, anything that isn’t where you aren’t happy.

When you woke up, the TV was shut off and you felt a blanket drape over your body. You realized you had fallen asleep from earlier, but you were expecting to find your boyfriend with you as well. That was when the door swung open and you were greeted with Rindou.

“Rindou?” You slowly let out, still adjusting from waking up. “I didn’t know you left.”

He raised a bag up midway in the air, it’s a bag from a bakery you often bought from, “You kept murmuring about it in your sleep. Didn’t want you to wake up all grumpy.”

“I don’t wake up grumpy!” You protested, watching as he took his seat next to you and unpacking all of your favorites.

“Yeah, okay,” Rindou joked. He listened to you puffing out before wrapping yourself around his arm.

“Thank you though,” You murmured out of embarrassment - maybe he was half right.

“It’s nothing,” He replied, softening his face into a grin. “Must’ve been hungry though if it got you talking in your sleep and drooling on my arm.”

You didn’t even know about half of the things he does for you, but he didn’t mind it, because if you were happy, then that was all that mattered.

It made Rindou feel guilty to turn on your phone and look through it. It wasn’t something that he ever felt the need to do - he trusted you and it felt wrong if you weren’t aware that he was using it. Though, at this time, he felt like it was for the better.

While you were silently sleeping, he browsed through your texts. It’s that same person - your ex back again to bother you. Rindou scoffed, making sure it wasn’t loud enough to wake you up, but he was angry. He clicked his tongue whilst composing a message.

Rindou knew you would never be so stupid as to meet up with someone like this, especially not after already experiencing it once. It was a good thing that it was just Rindou posing as you though. How delighted your ex felt to have finally received a response to you - ‘Let’s meet up here.’

Rindou thought it was so pathetic. This guy had no idea what he looked like, let alone that you even had a boyfriend. So when Rindou’s immediate reaction upon seeing him was to throw a punch, he was shocked.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” Your ex cried out, trying his best to dodge his attacks but failing in between his words and attempts.

“Me?!” Rindou snapped, pushing him to the ground and twisting his arms. “Speak for yourself.”

The man beneath him screamed in pain, “I-I’ll call the cops on you and have you arrested!”

“Yeah? You think they’ll give me less time if I tell them I was just trying to teach a creep a lesson?” Rindou pulled back on his arms a little harder, tendons and muscles stretching themselves out of place.

“T-The hell are you talking about?!” He stuttered out.

“Don’t bitch around. Might end yourself up in there if you keep this act of yours up - I’ve been once before,” Rindou smirked, pulling back more and more on his arms. “It was fine for me. My big bro and I even got some respect while in there, so what’s gonna happen when they hear about your name from me? You’re fresh meat to them.”

“W-Who even are you?!”

Rindou scoffed, “The same guy who warned you once to leave Y/N alone. I should’ve honestly went to find you myself personally and beat the shit out of you, but I hate wasting my time.”

Your boyfriend let the man go. If his arms weren’t all bent out of place and dislocated, he’d be crawling away by now. It was a sight that Rindou would laugh at. Upon seeing that his phone had fallen out of his pocket, the same phone used to consistently harass you, Rindou stomped down hard, breaking it into bits and pieces.

“Don’t waste my time again. Next time you do, call the cops, I promise you I won’t care if they catch me killing you,” Rindou turned his back around.

#tokyorev x reader #ran haitani #rindou haitani #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers x y/n #ran haitani x reader #rindou haitani x reader

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opalesense · 3 years

Note

srry if this message is long af but omg i JUST found your blog and just finished obsessively reading through all of your works.. not only do you seem so sweet but i am also SO in love with your writing already 🥺💕 so i do actually have a small, kinda silly request if you dont mind... i have a massive crush on kaeya, and your take on a dom kaeya (in "you asked for it" and "dinners at diluc's") had me SHOOK - it's so perfect 😫. So my request is, like... how would kaeya react to a sub s/o who turns out to be very into bdsm but has absolutely 0 experience. Like never been kissed but would kill to be tied up kinda thing LOL. Oh and if you'd like you can include other boys too ofc! But yea no worries if this request doesnt vibe with you just wanted to say you are awesome and have a gr8 day 💕

a funny secret

kaeya & gn!reader (NSFW)

899 words • ~5 min. read

summary: after having a little too much to drink, kaeya coerces a secret out of you that he didn’t expect at all.

warnings: bondage mention

notes: AWW don’t worry about the long message because i loved every single word, seriously!! T^T thanks for the request and for dedicating so much time to my fics omg i bet it must’ve taken awhile to get through my entire blog... anyway i wrote this in headcanon-ish style because i don’t feel like writing in so much detail, i hope that’s okay!!

KAEYA KNOWS ALL TOO WELL of your inexperience with intimacy. when you were first starting to get more affectionate with him, he noticed the way you got so easily flustered by the smallest things and how you quivered in nervousness whenever he offered you a hug. he finds it very amusing that someone usually so composed can break under his slight touch.

the most you’ve ever done with him is give him hugs or hold his hand. if you didn’t express that you wanted more, he wouldn’t force you to do more. but sooner or later, that will change – though, not in the way he expected.

when the two of you decide to spend an evening at the tavern, you somehow end up with a few drinks too many. kaeya watches with a smirk as you start to slur your words, curiously wondering what information he could get out of you in this drunken state.

as he recounts a story of a criminal he interrogated the other day, he notices you giggling like a maniac, completely distracted from what he was talking about. even though he found your laughter adorable, it interrupted his flow of the story. “what’s so funny, sweetheart? this guy was a thief!”

“sorry, sorry! i was just thinking... do you... do you wanna know a funny secret?” you grinned at him. oh yes, he liked where this was going.

“enlighten me.”

“i would... maybe i shouldn’t say this,” you giggled and hid your face as you looked down, ashamed of the thought. he chuckled as he tucked your hair behind your ear then held your chin between his fingers, lifting your head up to look at him.

“go on,” he patiently watched as a blush crept onto your face. he was going to get this secret out of you, one way or another. it was the perfect opportunity! you were dizzily drunk in his grasp and completely flustered.

“i would... i would kill to be tied up by you like how you tied up that thief...” you whispered only loud enough so kaeya could barely hear you over the rowdy atmosphere of the tavern.

now kaeya was a bit flustered. he didn’t expect you to say that at all but he wasn’t complaining. he let go of your chin to place a hand on your thigh, gently caressing it and watching your nervous reactions closely. “what would you want me to do to you while you’re tied up, hm?”

“w-we’re in public,” you shyly diverted your gaze to your drink, taking another sip. “i don’t think i should say...”

“then how about we head to my place so you can tell me?” he teased, his hand slowly creeping towards your inner thigh as he leaned forward to kiss your cheek. you internally screamed at how touchy he was being, but that’s exactly how he wanted to make you feel. “you don’t have to kill to make your wishes come true, darling.”

the two of you hurry back, butterflies violently fluttering in your stomach while he held your hand so innocently, as if he wasn’t fantasizing about all the things he could do to you tonight the second you set foot in his home.

his hands immediately find their place on your waist after he locks his front door behind him. he looks down at you with a hungry gaze, his fingers toying with the fabric of your clothes. “what exactly were you thinking about that you couldn’t tell me at the tavern, hm?”

“i’ve always thought about what it’s like to be tied up... by you...” your voice trailed as he slowly lifted your shirt enough to place his gloved hands on your bare skin.

“mmhm,” he began to rub circles onto your skin with his thumbs. the feeling of being touched so intimately by him when the peak of your romantic experience was holding his hand or hugging him made your mind draw blanks. you were malfunctioning under his hands. “what else, darling?”

“i... i...”

“use your words, darling. what would you want me to do after i tie you up?”

“then i want... i want you to do whatever you want to me...”

“ohh,” he teased to make it seem like the dots were finally connecting. “let me get this straight...”

one hand trailed up your back, still trapped under your shirt. he used this leverage to lean closer to you, pulling your body towards his as he slowly muttered in your ear. “so you want me to tie you up, fuck you ‘til you’re senseless, and make you cum over and over again until you scream for me to stop? you want me to leave bruises and marks that will let everyone know you’re not as innocent as you seem?”

you couldn’t do anything but helplessly nod and whimper as he started to kiss your jawline, trailing kisses down to your neck. “you want me to make you my sweet little toy, don’t you? what a funny secret that is, indeed...”

“k-kaeya...” his name was the only thing on your mind right now as he smiled between kisses, loving the way you curled up in his arms so sweetly.

“fortunately for you, i keep some bundles of rope here in case we run out at the headquarters so... how about we give you what you want tonight, hm?”

#kaeya #kaeya x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact smut #mine #bang #requested

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leascorner · 3 years

Text

j.b.b. | Marley

Summary: Eventually, Bucky gave his deepest secrets away and you let him know yours. Her name was Marley.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x single mom!reader

Warnings: Mention of past and present relationships, parenting, mention of food

Word Count: 3.7k

a/n: This is my first story posted on here. I’ve been writting for +12 years now but for the last couple of years, I couldn't finish a single story. Turns out Bucky Barnes was all I needed to get over my massive writer’s block. Feedback is greatly appreciated. (Also, english is not my native language so if you spot any grammar mistake, please let me know!)

Masterlist

It all began with his friend, Sam.

On a night they were out for drinks, he had made it his mission to find someone for Bucky. Someone or anyone for the matter. He talked to everyone in the bar that night, while Bucky drank his beer, sitting at the counter. When it was clear enough that nobody there that night would keep grumpy Bucky company, Sam turned his attention on the dating app his friend had downloaded on his phone some weeks ago. He probably went through a dozen of profiles, sometimes showing the phone screen to Bucky, to what he would just respond by rolling his eyes and drinking some more beer.

That was until Sam showed him your profile. Bucky stared a second longer to the picture displayed on his phone screen than for the others. He couldn't tell what that was: the smile on your lips, the wrinkles at the side of your eyes or simply your eyes; but he couldn't get his eyes off it. Sam immediately started typing a message for you to what Bucky obviously protested. He did not need company because he was just fine on his own.

Despite his super-soldier abilities, he wasn't quick enough to take the phone from his friend's hands. The smile that appeared on Sam’s face annoyed Bucky even more. "What are you afraid of, though guy?" Sam had asked and Bucky eventually backed off, letting him do whatever he was planning on doing. There was no point in stopping Sam. He knew you wouldn't be interested anyway... To be honest, who would be? Bucky got his phone back along with a smirk from his friend. There was no answer after that, and Sam eventually found another topic to annoy the heck out of Bucky.

When he woke up the next morning, your reply notification was patiently waiting for him. For a second, he thought of deleting it, without having a look first. What did he have to lose? Gathering his courage, he opened it. Your words were as genuine as your smile and it made him grin like an idiot, though he made a mental note to later murder Sam for his poor choice of pick-up line. It took him the whole morning to be able to type an answer and another afternoon to press the ‘send’ button. It was the first text of many. Eventually, a lot of texts turned into calls; that turned into meeting up in your favorite French bakery; that turned into movies and restaurant dates.

This was nearly one year and a half ago.

Your relationship with Bucky was cautious and steady. He liked how you would give him his space, but still being right there for him. He liked that you let him stare at you in total awe or that you always had small kind thoughts for him like when you made his eggs the way he preferred in the morning and that everything was so simple - obvious even - by your side. Eventually, Bucky gave his deepest secrets away and you let him know yours.

Her name was Marley.

If Bucky was being honest, finding out you had a two and a half years-old daughter was quite the shock. Not that he couldn't have seen that coming; you would always make plans, your handbag was always full of snacks and hand wipes and for some reason, you would never be available between five and eight p.m. That was also what he liked about you. The stability.

The idea of being involved in a relationship with somebody that already had a child did scare him off. If he decided to continue the relationship, it would not only be a matter of breaking your heart in the process – and well, maybe his too - but breaking a child's heart too. And that more than anything, he was refusing to assume the responsibility, but he owed you that much. You knew his deepest secrets and still, you didn't run away from him. Worse, you trusted him to be around your child.

You both had a lot of discussions about him meeting Marley - Bucky even seek advice to Sam. And as for the rest of your relationship, you took it slow. It started with Bucky showing up to your Sunday walk in Central Park, feeding up the ducks and sharing snacks. You also spent some time at the carnival where he would watch you two on the carousel – sometimes joining the ride too - and he would help Marley win at pick a duck or buy her popcorn. Eventually, he would spend more time with the two of you. It started with spending at least one evening per week at your place, making dinner while watching you playing with Marley in the living room. One evening turned into two, three, five evenings per week. He still could step out if he needed. You still could spend time with your daughter where he wasn't there. You still spent time just the two of you, when Marley was asleep at night or he would take you on date nights. The routine you three put in place was nice, but Bucky wasn't planning on taking Marley’s dad place. God, he would never see himself as a dad and Marley already had one - though in Bucky's opinion, he would not be awarded father-of-the-year.

Today, Bucky was picking Marley up from daycare.

He had done it a million times already, but this time was a little bit different. He was doing it on his own. The babysitter stood you up and you were stuck in an endless one-day meeting. You had called in utter panic, asking him to pick Marley up from daycare and taking care of her until you would be home. He had assured you he would do it and it would be fine. Now that he was standing in front of the building, he was doubting himself. He didn't know if he could do it on his own.

Another shaky sigh and Bucky entered the building. The childcare workers greeted him when he showed up at Marley's room. She was sat at one of these tiny tables making some kind of collage crafts. He planned on waiting for her to finish, just staring like he always did, before announcing himself, but Marley spotted him the second his figure appeared at the door.

"Bucky!" Marley cried out, leaving everything behind and running towards him.

"Hey Mar-Mar," he smiled. She always seemed happy to see him and Bucky wondered if she would eventually grow tired of him being always around.

After they hugged each other, Marley was called to put away her crafts and Bucky encouraged her to go do it. In the meantime, he collected her stuff - her panda backpack, shoes, and coat - so he could get her ready to leave. And he did just that when she got back to him.

"We are taking the train home. I'mna carrying you, is that okay?"

She wrapped her little arms around his neck in response and he lifted her up from the floor. After sharing goodbye to the childcare workers, they were heading home.

On their way to the station, Marley explained in every detail what she had done at daycare that day; Bucky was listening carefully, sometimes asking questions - Carol, she is the one with the curly hair, right? Was Mark mean to you again? - but mostly he was just nodding along. They made it to the station just in time to take the 5:17 p.m. train. It was rush hour and Bucky mindfully chose to hop on one of the cars at the end of the train - the ones he knew would be the less busy at this time of the day. He had only seven stops, so he didn't sit and stood against one of the train windows. By that time, Marley had finished reporting on her day, and she was just watching around, smiling at anyone she would make eye contact with.

After the second stop, her eyes caught the sight of the dog tag around Bucky's neck. She fiddled it through his T-shirt, probably wondering what that was, before taken it out to have a closer look. In her tiny hands, the metal tag seemed to be huge. She looked up at Bucky, with bright eyes and he swore, he would do anything for these eyes.

"What is that?"

"Uh- " Bucky wasn't sure how to explain it in a way a three-years old would understand. "-Every soldier has one. It uh- has my name on it and some other information."

"Is it if you get lost?" she asked, her little eyebrows raised high on her forehead. She did understand a lot of the world around her for her age. "Mommy put a card with her name and her phone number in my bag."

"Yeah, it's something like that."

Marley smiled at him and returned her attention on the letters’ reliefs on the metal. By the fourth stop, she was resting her head on his shoulder while he was still firmly (but not too much) holding her with his left arm. She kept holding his dog tag in her tiny fist and was patiently waiting.

"She is very sweet," the old lady sat on the seat in front of them said to him before leaving the train.

He nodded shyly and looked back at the little girl in his arms. Marley looked so much like you. Her face had still some baby features, she just turned three after all, but she had the same nose and her eyes had the same color as yours. They were the same piercing eyes that when they’d look at him, he felt like they could read his soul. And she did not just look like you. She had also some of your habits and personality traits. She would always be smiling to people she didn’t know. She was always saying ‘thank you’ or ‘sorry’. She was obsessed with any kind of animal; the Sundays walks would last forever if she could pet all the dogs she encountered.

The rest of the ride was quiet, and Bucky got off the train on the seventh stop as planned. At the station, people turned on them as they passed. Maybe this was an odd sight: a man in combat boots, dark jeans, and a black leather jacket, carrying a small child in his arms. Especially knowing the kid in question was wearing white leggings, a red fluffy coat, and a stuffed panda backpack. Bucky didn't mind and continued his way to your place.

Marley stayed quiet for the five minutes’ walk to your place, but once Bucky had turned on your street, she wriggled to be freed of his hold. Once her feet touched the ground, she directly ran towards a car parked not far away. She squatted down and started clicking her tongue. A ginger cat immediately came out from underneath the car.

"Careful," Bucky called out. He knew it was not recommended interacting with stray cat as they could be sick with all sorts of disease. And to be fair, it got him a little worried the cat was getting this close to Marley. He could already see her getting bitten by the cat, getting rabies, and losing her arm, or worse: dying.

"That's Gus, he lives at number 7," she said pointing at the building they stopped in front. It had the number written on it.

Gus started rubbing itself against Marley's shins and she gently petted his back. The cat then went to rub on Bucky's combat boots, also greeting him even though they never encountered before. And it continued his way to the building's porch, where it lazily lay down.

"Mommy said we could have a cat when we get a house."

"I've got a cat," Bucky stated and Marley cried out in excitement. She asked him about a hundred questions. What was its name? What was it looking like? Was it friendly? Was it sleeping in his bed with him at night? Bucky never failed to answer one of her questions and they talked about that until they made it in front of your apartment door.

Marley was already on her way to her room when Bucky turned around after locking the door. She had removed her shoes and coat on her own and left them behind without putting them away like you would always request it.

"Uh-uh, we go wash your hands first, okay?"

After that was done, she ran to her room for good this time. Bucky went back to the living room and focused on what he could do to help you. He knew you would get home exhausted from your day at work and he did not want to have you do all the chores you usually did. It was the least he could do.

Somehow, your place was always tidier than his, and he lived on his own. In the kitchen, he found breakfast dishes in the sink and the dishwasher full of the dishes that had been cleaned the night before. That was where he would get started. He put away the dishes easily; he had been around your kitchen a lot those last months and he knew exactly where everything was. He even knew where you were hiding away the chocolate and candies; somewhere Marley didn't have access to.

"Hey Bucky, can I have snacks?"

A look at the watch sitting on his right wrist, she had still a good hour and a half before dinner and he replied positively. He wiped his hands on the dish towel resting on his shoulder and took one of these bamboo sectioned plates he just washed. He was reaching out to the first cupboards in front of him when it suddenly appeared to him, he had no idea what he could give her.

"What does your mom usually give you?" He asked Marley, turning back to her.

Marley shrugged. "Carrots and hummus." And Bucky swore this kid was eating healthier that he ever had.

He started by the fridge, looking for anything he could give to Marley. Thankfully, she wasn't a picky eater so it would be easy for him. Tonight's dinner was in it, along with some vegetables and fruits. He chose grapes because it was the only food, he could see himself eating at that time of the day.

"Grapes and uh-" he looked at the cupboards right next to the fridge "- crackers?"

Marley nodded. Bucky prepared it all on her plate, making sure there was just enough for her to be full but not too much so she would still eat dinner, and handed it to her. She carried it carefully to the living room, Bucky following behind. She had laid out all her crayons on the coffee table next to her Paw Patrol coloring book. He knew about this cartoon because it was the only one Marley ever wanted to watch, she was literally obsessed with it, and she did make him watch some episodes with her. He knew that, when she was playing alone in her room, she would usually pretend she was saving the world with them.

Bucky sat on the carpet, next to Marley, stealing one grape from her plate. She threw him a death glance but offered him some more if he would help with the coloring. He happily complied.

Before dinner was normally bath time. Thankfully, you had said over the phone you would deal with that in the morning. For some reason, Marley did not like baths. A little bit of water in her eyes or ears was too much for her to handle and he wasn't sure he could deal with her being so upset on his own.

He still got her changed in her pajamas - she obviously chose the one with the dalmatian puppy from Paw Patrol you had agreed on buying a few weeks ago; washed her face with a cotton pad and some cleansing lotion, brushed her hair and tried the best he could to tie them in a low ponytail. You would normally braid them for the night, but this was not something Bucky mastered at all - he made a mental note to watch some tutorials on YouTube to learn though.

"Will you and mommy get married?" Marley asked out of nowhere while Bucky was carrying her back to the kitchen to have dinner.

"I don't know," he said, confused. "Why do you ask?"

"I prefer you over my real daddy," Marley admitted. And it broke his heart. Bucky knew how her dad forgot about her third birthday and missed most of his custody days lately. He didn't really understand how somebody could have a child and knowingly decide not take care of them anymore.

The child in his arm was so precious. It amazed him every day how much she could comprehend of the world around her. She was smart, creative, kind. She knew what she wanted, would be very stubborn about it and would do anything to get it – you always said you didn’t understand where she got her fierce mind and Bucky laughed every time because he knew exactly from whom she had gotten it: you. You did such a good job raising her on your own. He also knew you would always choose her over him, and he had to admit, it made him fall in love even more with you.

"Even if I'd marry your mom, I still wouldn't be your daddy officially."

"To me, you would," Marley concluded as if it was as simple as that.

Living with you two permanently. Marrying you. Bucky never thought of it. He liked how this relationship was working: the kindness, the trust, the love. He loved the movie dates with you, the Sundays walks, and the evening just the three of you. He loved how simple it all was and how it made him just happy. Happiest he had been in a long time. And he wondered if he wanted more. The way his heart was fluttering in his chest made him realized, he did. He didn't know if he was ready though.

Back to the kitchen, he put her down on her seat before getting the casserole of potato gratin out of the oven. He put a small portion in her plate, next to some chopped carrots and apple sauce he already prepared. He put it down in front of her and sat next to her.

"Will you eat with mommy?"

"Yeah, is that alright?"

She nodded, rubbing her eyes. They had stayed coloring her books a little too long and it was nearly her bedtime. Smiling softly, he encouraged her to eat. She did while asking some more questions on his cat in between each mouthful. How old is it? Why did you name it Alpine? Has mummy already met it? Do you think she'll like me? Turned out this little one never run out of question.

After dinner, Bucky gave her a small portion of chocolate from the special cupboard and they agreed it would be their little secret. Then, he carried her to the bathroom to brush her tiny teeth. It was started to be late for her and she was clearly fighting against sleep, the lack of it upsetting her.

"I want to see mommy," she cried, lips trembling and eyes full of tears.

"I know Mar-Mar, she'll get there soon," Bucky tried to comfort her. You hadn't text yet, meaning you weren't on your way still. He knew Marley would be asleep before you got home. "We can read a book in your bed while we wait for her, yeah?"

Marley nodded and let Bucky carry her to her bed. She had her head rested on his right shoulder the whole time. She crawled under the covers the moment her body was dropped off on the bed. She let Bucky choose the bedtime story and he chose the one he knew she liked so much.

He laid beside her gently and she immediately reached out closer to him. He wrapped his right arm around her, and her hands somehow found his dog tag again. A small kiss on her forehead and Bucky started reading the book in his left hand. Marley was listening carefully, helping him by turning the page.

At the end of the story, she was fast asleep against him, his dog tag still in her tiny fist. Bucky did not dare moving, afraid he would wake her up if he did. He observed the small child against him and listened to her soft breathes. She looked so peaceful and it made him thought of the way she had welcomed him into her life. Just like you, she had taken him as a whole; with his trauma, his insecurities, his quietness, and his staring habits. And now, she had him wrapped around his little finger. He knew deep in his guts he wouldn't let anything happen to you or your daughter. He realized that now. That made him think some more: maybe he was ready after all. And this time, he would not let happiness slip away from him.

Bucky stayed like that until twenty minutes later, when you showed up on your daughter’s room doorstep. You looked exhausted yet still radiant. A smile had formed on your lips at the sight in front of you. It made you melt right on the spot.

"Hey," Bucky greeted you softly.

You came closer, walking on your tiptoes, careful of not waking up your daughter. You laid besides them, kissing your daughter little fist, and tucked yet another strand of hair behind her ear. You looked back at Bucky, who was intensely staring at you. His left arm was already wrapped around your shoulders, bringing you close. You kissed his jaw, making him smile gently. "Thank you for taking care of her. Did it go okay?"

"More than okay." He kissed your forehead while you snuggled closer to him. His heart could burst of the feeling of having you two near him forever.

He wouldn't want to be anywhere else.

#jbb #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x y/n #marvel imagine #mcu imagine #bucky barnes one shot #bucky x single mom!reader #lea's writing #bucky barnes x you

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shig-a-shig-ah · 3 years

Text

LAYING CLAIM

» pairing: dabi x fem!reader

» cw: dubcon, revoked consent, noncon (we’re going on a journey, okay?), rimming, anal fingering, anal sex, crying, gratuitously fanon characterization. 18+, minors DNI.

» a/n: Started this months and months ago, and since I’m finally getting around to wrapping some WIPs, I guess you can have it now. Thanks @thebiggergroove for beta-reading!

» wc: 5.3k

» ao3 mirror

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The thing about Dabi is he's not usually a possessive guy. Fucking is fucking, as far as he's concerned—it doesn't really matter who is doing it with whom as long as everyone is getting off on it. But goddamn if there isn't something about you that makes him want to make you his.

And he's gotten that, more or less. It took some sweet talking and cajoling, and a few late nights where he made you come until you couldn't see straight, but you agreed not to go sleeping with anyone else. Sure, you've made him promise the same, but that's fine. Not that he's going to actually stop, of course, but he goes out on recruiting missions alone and he figures what you don't know won't hurt you.

That's all enough to satisfy him, at least for a little while. But then a few weeks pass and there it is again: that stupid jealousy and all those unbidden thoughts about the people you were with before him. People he knows. You never talk in too much detail about your past hookups, but he's not stupid, is all too aware that he's not the first one in this ragged band of miscreants that you've crawled into bed with. You've fucked Jin, and Shigaraki, and probably even Magne, god rest her soul—Dabi hadn't missed the way the two of you had huddled up giggling in the corner of the old bar one night, disappearing together unusually early, making those bedroom eyes at each other. And in theory that's fine. Nothing wrong with two girls having fun together, after all. Hell, bi chicks are hot and Dabi wouldn't mind taking advantage of that someday.

But first he needs to find a way to get the image of you with your legs spread for half the League out of his goddamn head.

If he's being honest, it's Shigaraki who bothers him the most. Magne is dead. Jin is a decent dude and, Dabi has to imagine, tame as a kitten in the sack. But Shigaraki, well...Dabi can tell just by looking at the guy that he's a freak, and the idea of you riding Shigaraki's dry, crusty dick, of letting him do who-knows-what filthy shit to you? It just gets to him.

And then Toga has to suggest that stupid game and go putting ideas in his head.

You're all sitting around the crumbling office space that passes for a hideout, drinking to celebrate the League's first successful double-amputation (because fuck that germophobic, transphobic prick), and blondie is just begging to play a drinking game. Normally Dabi doesn't go for that shit—why anyone needs an excuse to get wasted is beyond him—but he's in a good mood, and you make that adorable pouty face as you tell him that you played in college, that it's really fun, and somehow he finds himself sitting in a circle on the dusty floor with the rest of you losers playing 'I haven't' or whatever the fuck it's called.

It's all bland shit to start. Toga's never driven a car, Shigaraki's never gone to school. But, after you've made your way around the circle once, everyone seems to be loosening up and Spinner takes one for the team by getting to the interesting shit and admitting he's never slept with a girl. It spurs a moment of awkward silence made all the worse by his red face and obvious self-consciousness about being a virgin, but then Compress stage-whispers "Neither have I," before winking salaciously at the blushing lizard and taking a dramatic pull from his beer bottle. It's enough to lighten the mood.

After that, Dabi's forced to admit it's a decent game. There's not much he hasn't done sexually or criminally, and since those are the two topics everyone focuses on, he finds himself getting hammered faster than usual. It's a good thing too—his buzz makes it easier to ignore the look you and Shigaraki exchange when Jin announces that he's never tried watersports, easier to pretend his gut isn't twisting at the knowing smirk on your leader's face as he raises his beer bottle to drink and you follow suit.

That particular moment makes it all the more surprising when, on your next turn, you hide an embarrassed face behind your hand and announce that you've never taken it in the ass.

Dabi can't stop thinking about it the rest of the night. Obsessing over it, and the idea of being your first, your only, even if only in some less than conventional way. The thing is, it's downright tame in comparison to a lot of what you two get up to, so barely even kinky that it's almost impossible to believe you've never tried it. Sure, you've never done it together, but he'd just figured neither of you were all that into it, since it hadn't come up when you were doing lewd shit to each other.

That kind of sex is fine from his perspective, but only fine. He doesn't actively seek it out because in his mind nothing beats the feel of being balls-deep in a warm pussy, but that doesn't mean he hasn't done it. He's hooked up with plenty of girls that were into it and has always been happy to oblige; hell, he's even taken it more than once, on account of the fact that when it comes to the bedroom he's willing to try anything twice.

But doing it with you? Well, that thought sticks. The two of you finally go to bed and Dabi's so turned on by the idea of your virgin ass that he can't help testing the waters, prodding teasingly at that tight hole with one spit-slicked finger until you're squirming away and whining. He doesn't manage to convince you right then, but he makes those puppy dog eyes that are far more effective than they have any right to be, and you agree to give it a go in the future.

"Not here," you specify, the words fuzzy on your drunken tongue. "Someplace nicer, with a real bed." You already have your reservations, and you certainly don't relish the idea of undertaking that particular venture now, on a worn mattress in this falling apart building, with its paper-thin walls and complete lack of hot water. Between your booze-fueled haze and the seeming interminability of the League's poverty, you mostly forget about that casual promise by the following morning.

But Dabi doesn't. He picks up a small bottle of lube the next day and carries it around in his pocket shamelessly, a little reminder that he has something to look forward to besides roasting that prick Endeavor, and he strokes himself off to the idea more than he's proud to admit as he waits for the League to move on to better things. He can be patient, when he needs to be.

That patience takes a toll though, and the minute the League settles into their new digs in Re-Destro's sprawling villa, where there's actually privacy and clean, comfortable beds, Dabi shows up at your door with a cheshire grin and every intention of finally getting something from you that's just for him.

You grimace when you remember that promise, try briefly to talk him out of it even, but he isn't so easily dissuaded. It's made all the harder by the fact that you can't give him a specific reason why you've never tried it, beyond that it seems uncomfortable and you hadn't particularly enjoyed the couple instances when you'd allowed someone to slip a finger or two in there.

"C'mon, baby girl," Dabi coos, his breath hot in your ear as he pins you to the wall, working two unnaturally warm fingers into your cunt. "I'll make sure it's good for you. Be gentle, get you nice and warmed up first, all that sweet shit."

It really is unfair how persuasive he can be when he fixes those pleading turquoise eyes on you. The way the pads of his fingers are curling just right deep inside isn't helping either, and he teases you like that until you give in to his cajoling, though you still insist on waiting a couple nights so that you can do your research and make sure you're entirely prepared. Dabi demonstrates his appreciation by burying his face in your cunt and not surfacing for air until you've come three times and are begging for a break.

When the night finally arrives, Dabi's feeling positively giddy. He slips into your bedroom with a bottle of wine and a couple glasses he's brought, a little something to help you relax because he's a gentleman when he wants to be. It should be good booze too—he lifted it from Re-Destro's private stash, and he's certain baldy doesn't drink anything that costs less than ¥30,000. Of course, Re-Destro doesn't love sharing either, but the uptight prick is too scared of Shigaraki to complain about anything the League does. They all take advantage of that, because they can and because it's fun to watch him bite his tongue when they piss him off.

You don't make it easy for Dabi to focus on pouring the drinks though, not when you're reclining in that armchair by the window, freshly showered and fidgeting nervously. He was half-erect before he got here from just thinking about what he was going to do to you, and the sight of you acting like you're some blushing virgin spurs him all the way to rock-hard. By the time your glasses are close to empty, he's straining uncomfortably in his pants, and can't fight back his impatience any longer.

"What do you think, doll?" he murmurs, setting his glass to the side and standing up, shrugging his jacket off before leaning down to ghost his lips over your neck. "You ready to move this to the bed?"

The way you chew at your lower lip anxiously before nodding makes his dick throb.

You empty your glass with one final, large swallow, your heart racing as you rise. You know it's stupid—you and Dabi have fucked countless times and a lot of it hasn't exactly been vanilla—but it's been a long time since you've actually tried anything new. His obvious excitement doesn't help either, paradoxically; it leaves you fretting about what will happen if you're somehow bad at this, or if you can't take it and have to stop. You've never really worried about disappointing him before, but now the thought weighs acutely on your mind.

It's with halting steps that you approach the bed and then, when you can't realistically drag your feet any longer, you finally tug the nightgown you're wearing off your shoulders, letting it fall to the floor to reveal what's underneath.

"Damn, baby girl," Dabi breathes, looking you up and down. You'd figured that since it was a special occasion you might as well dress up, donning a strappy bra and panties. They're little more than elaborate, crisscrossing pieces of lace, all white since he'd seemed so fixated on this pseudo-innocent, first-time act. His reaction doesn't disappoint, eyes lighting up as he stares at you hungrily.

You let yourself fall back on the bed, nestling against the many pillows. The look on his face has your stomach fluttering, and the wine has helped you to relax a bit despite your nerves, a pleasant warmth spreading throughout your body. It's joined by a different kind of heat when you feel the mattress dip beneath Dabi's weight as he positions himself over you, one knee resting between your thighs, just barely brushing against your center, a hint of what's to come.

"You look so good I could just eat you up," Dabi whispers hotly against your ear before tracing his lips over your jaw. Even though he wants to take his time, let himself savor this, it's taking every ounce of patience he has to keep the promise he made to get you worked up and ready for him, to not to tear those pretty bits of satin and lace off and have his way with you right then.

You whine eagerly when his mouth slants hungrily over yours, savoring the feel of those mismatched lips, the way the rough skin of the bottom one contrasts so deliciously with the top. Hot hands run over your sides as the kiss deepens, your tongues tangling together, and you moan against him.

When you finally break for air, Dabi moves his lips to your throat, his tongue lapping at your pulse before he sinks his teeth into you. He loves to mark you up, loves making sure everyone can see that you're indisputably his, and it's even hotter now that he knows he's going to fuck you in a way no one else has. You're shivering beneath him as he works, your hand tugging insistently at his hair, and Dabi lets out a low, throaty growl.

"Guess I'm not the only one who's eager, huh?"

Your hips tilt in response, pressing needily into his firm thigh, and Dabi can feel the skin on his cheeks straining against his staples as he grins. He traces one hand up over your ribs, cupping at your supple breasts, teasing your hardening nipple through the flimsy fabric of your bra. Those deft fingers work under the seam of your lingerie as he shifts his weight, increasing the pressure against your center while he pinches and tugs at the peaks of your breasts until you're whimpering, spreading slick along his leg even through your thin panties.

Dabi pulls away abruptly, rolling onto his back and tugging at you to change positions, shaking his head when you move to mount his hips.

"Come here, baby girl," he says, his tongue tracing over his bottom lip. "Like I said, I wanna eat you up."

The promise in those words sends a bolt of heat straight through your core as he guides you to straddle his face, hot breath tickling your inner thighs. One calloused thumb brushes your clit lightly through your underwear, blue eyes sparkling when your breath hitches at that soft touch. When he pulls that useless fabric to the side and runs his tongue over your already-damp slit, you shudder.

Dabi lets out a pleased groan at your reaction and gets to work more earnestly, lapping at your sensitive nub, licking and sucking until you're moaning and only then shifting a little so that he can lap at your insides, that same rough thumb replacing the pressure of his tongue on your clit. It strokes firm circles as he buries that hot, wet muscle inside you, the metal barbell there teasing your inner walls as you grind involuntarily against it. You can't help but whine when he withdraws it, but that disappointment is quickly replaced by you startling as that same wet muscle extends further back to tease at your puckered entrance.

"A-ah, Dabi, wait," you protest, your face heating up self-consciously almost at once.

Dabi pauses, shifting just enough to keep his reply from being muffled as one warm hand runs reassuringly up your thigh. "I don't think I can help myself, doll," he says, his slick-coated lips splitting into a wide grin, "you just taste too good."

That heat in your face worsens as he dives back in, not even waiting for you to respond before he's flexing his tongue to poke at that tight ring of muscle. You still try to squirm away, feeling unprepared for this. You hadn't even considered it among the possible activities were volunteering to participate in, but Dabi is holding you firmly in place with the hand not working at your clit, and when another whine of protest escapes you, it's weaker than the first. The foreign sensation of his tongue against your neglected hole has you hyperaware of the press of his thumb at your apex, and you can feel tension building in your core even as you writhe in embarrassment.

It's as though he knows, too, and you suppose maybe he does; after all, he's the one who's done this before. He thrusts his tongue a little deeper, rolling your clit between two hot fingers with enough pressure to cut off any further protests. A long moan is the only sound you can muster as you spill over the edge, your thighs clenching around his head and your hips jerking shakily as you ride out your climax with his tongue still buried obscenely in your rear.

Dabi's face is covered in your juices by the time he slides from between your thighs, and he wipes it away carelessly with one arm as he repositions you again, pinning you on your back and wasting no time peeling away your now-soaked panties. He grins at the sight of your glistening folds and swollen clit before stripping off most of his own clothes, kicking them unceremoniously to the side and relaxing between your legs, kissing at your still-trembling thighs.

He teases at your sensitive cunt with his fingers, coating them in your juices as you whimper. "Ready for a little more?" he asks, and you nod despite the fact that your cheeks are still burning from before and your stomach is knotting with nerves.

"Just...go slow, okay?"

"Of course, baby girl," he promises, "I told you I'd take good care of you." With that, he starts to work you open, dipping one finger into your tight hole just until he reaches the first knuckle, working it in and out slowly. His other hand toys at your clit, stroking and rolling that puffy nub again, making you mewl.

Dabi waits until you're relaxed before trying any more, pulling away from you just long enough to dig the lube from the pocket of his discarded pants, coating his fingers with it. He works that lone finger deeper this time, in and out until it's buried to the last knuckle.

The sensation is strange, but not entirely unpleasant; even if you think you'd rather have that finger curling in your cunt, the slight stretch is still adding to the faint throb already growing inside you, the one that worsens when his thumb returns to your apex.

"Fuck, you're so tight," Dabi growls when one well-placed stroke of his thumb has you clenching lightly around his finger. He ruts his hips against the sheets, trying vainly to find some relief for his aching member, but it's not enough—he needs to feel you, needs the vice-like grip clutching his fingers to be wrapped around his cock, and he needs it soon.

You feel him withdraw to add more lube, and then he's fingering you again, adding another digit to stretch you wider. It comes with a stab of discomfort when he forces his way past the second knuckle, and you reflexively try to pull back. "Dabi, that's too much."

He abandons his soothing attentions to your clit, one warm palm pressing you tight against the mattress to keep you in place, stroking soothingly at your hip. His breath tickles over your inner thigh as he chuckles softly. "If you can't take this, how are you ever gonna take me, hmm?" he says teasingly. "You're doing great, baby, just relax."

You will yourself to unclench, trying to picture Dabi's satisfied face once you're taking him, that adoring look he sometimes gives you, the one that you relish. Your efforts are only marginally effective, but Dabi keeps pushing deeper, fucking you slowly but insistently with those fingers, and when you don't complain again, his thumb returns to caressing your sex.

"That's a good girl." Dabi picks up the pace, cursing under his breath. "You're doing so good."

You're wriggling against his hand now, trying to increase the friction at your center, not quite minding the foreign sensation of his fingers and the uncanny fullness they bring so much now that there's heat thrumming in your core. "Y-yeah, like that," you pant encouragingly, and Dabi grins.

"That doing it for you?" he purrs. "Think you can take more?"

You start to shake your head—the stretch now feels like all you can handle—but Dabi's already adding a third slick finger, shoving it in with less restraint than before. You feel more than discomfort this time when three knuckles breach your asshole, and it quickly dampens the arousal that had been steadily building. "Dabi, slow down," you gasp.

"Aw, are you sure you can't handle it?" His blue eyes meet yours, pupils blown wide with arousal as he looks you over with the hungry gaze. "'Cause if I'm being honest, it feels like you're trying to suck me in. Like this greedy little hole wants to get fucked."

The huskiness of his voice sends a shiver down your spine, even as another whine of discomfort escapes you. For just a second his expression darkens slightly, but then he's slowing his movements, twisting his fingers instead of thrusting them in and out.

"Better?" he asks, and you think you catch an edge of impatience in his voice.

It is better though, a little at least, enough that you can focus on the way your cunt flutters every time his thumb strokes over your clit. So you just nod; it's not like this wasn't bound to be a little unpleasant at points, right?

Dabi's smile stretches wider, his thumb working faster. A mewl slips from between your lips and Dabi takes that as encouragement, his fingers resuming their persistent thrusts. It's still uncomfortable, though not quite as bad as when he started, and your teeth sink into your lower lip to bite back your complaints. You let your eyes fall closed instead, trying to focus on his attentions to your hooded nub, on the heat that's pooling in your lower belly. You're inching towards another release, and you let a hand lift to your breast, tweaking at the pebbled flesh of one nipple to help yourself along.

"D-dabi, I'm close," you stammer, your hips bucking against his hand.

"Yeah?" His movements speed up, his voice breathy and excited. "Do it, baby girl. Come for me and then I'm gonna fuck this tight little ass of yours."

You swallow hard, trying not to dwell on those words for now—you can tell you've loosened up more, tolerating the jab of his fingers, but his cock is substantially larger than those, all too intimidating. Thankfully, it's not hard to remain distracted, to focus only on your approaching peak.

Dabi can feel that orgasm rip through you when it hits, your asshole clenching around his fingers as you keen, and it's then that he reaches the limits of his patience. He needs you now, needs the thrill of burying himself in your tight ass and claiming you for his own, of reaching his own release deep inside and then watching his seed spill out afterwards. What a satisfying sight that will be.

He scrambles up from between your legs to catch your lips with his, fumbling his boxers off as his tongue invades your mouth. When he pulls away, his eyes are bright, needy. "Ready for me?" he asks.

You're not, not really, but you can see the fervor in his eyes, hear the urgency in his voice, and you convince yourself that he won't be able to work you open much more with his fingers no matter what. Your agreement doesn't matter anyway—he's already rolling you onto your side and slotting his chest against your back, his straining erection poking at the cleft between your thighs.

"Like this?" you ask, surprised by the choice of position.

"Just like this," he pants in your ear. His teeth nibble at your lobe as he slicks his cock generously with lube. "Want you spooned against me so I can see those cute faces you make, feel you squirming when you take me."

And fuck, when he slips one hand back down to finger your asshole one last time, it doesn't disappoint—your body ripples against him when that invasion catches you off guard, and he can see the way your lips part obscenely as you gasp at his touch. His fingers abandon your tight hole almost as quickly as they'd entered, and then Dabi is aligning himself with your entrance, using the last of his restraint not to slam his hips forward and bury himself inside with a single thrust.

You can feel the spongy head of his glans, and the slick coolness of the ring that adorns his tip, prodding at your rear. One of his arms worms its way under your side, his hand groping distractedly at your breasts as you tense in anticipation.

"Relax, baby girl," he murmurs, but he doesn't wait for you to even try. He's already slipping in, moving slowly until he encounters resistance an inch or so inside, and then pausing.

He has to struggle to keep his composure. Even like this, with not even the full head of his cock in your ass, his balls are tightening, just the thought of what he's doing nearly enough to send him over the brink. He waits until he's sure that won't happen and then starts moving, pushing insistently to work you open around his length with shallow thrusts.

"A-ah, Dabi, g-go easy," you stutter, already squirming. You can feel your body resisting the intrusion, so much larger than his fingers, and it aches slightly every time he tries to breach that inner ring.

"I am, baby, don't worry. I'll take care of you." His cheek is nuzzling against yours, his lips kissing and sucking wherever he can reach, but his motions don't change at all even as he murmurs so sweetly. He only slings one arm over your hips, toying lazily at your clit. That attention helps you relax, helps distract you a little, but it's not enough to prepare you for when he drives himself in further, finally surging past that taut band of muscle.

The invasion brings a sharp pain, one that has you crying out. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, your body reflexively contorting to try and escape the cause of that hurt, but his arms tighten around you, holding you in place as he continues to work himself deeper with every thrust.

"Dabi, that hurts." Your words are sharper this time as each stroke sends another unpleasant throb through your overstretched hole, but his only response is to plunge the fingers rubbing at your clit into your dripping cunt.

"Shh, you're doing great." He curls his fingers, stroking against that spongy spot deep inside. It makes you writhe, but that does nothing to address the pain between your legs as he fucks you.

"Dabi, don't, that's not helping, I—"

"It's okay, baby girl, you're taking me so well," Dabi coos. You'll adjust, he knows you will—you're usually up for anything, of course you can take this. And fuck, there's no way he can stop now, not when it's even better than he'd imagined—hotter and softer, your pillowy walls enveloping his length every time he plunges into you, the exquisite tightness of your entrance massaging his shaft with each thrust.

"I'm not— I don't— I don't want to do this anymore." You can hear the desperate edge in your voice now. Your heart is racing and there's a cold sweat forming on your skin as tears of pain and confusion start to leak down your cheeks. "Dabi, stop."

"Shh, shh, you're fine. You—fuck—you feel so amazing. 'S never been this good with anyone else, fuck."

"I don't care, I don't want this." You can't understand what's happening, why he's not listening. You twist your head to look at him, pleading with your eyes, but he's barely even focusing on you. His blue eyes are glazed and half-lidded as his lips wander over your shoulders and your neck, all the while murmuring those useless reassurances against your skin. You're thrashing now, your feet scrambling for purchase on the sheets as you try frantically to pull away, but he keeps his tight grip on you, one of his legs hooking around your own to hold you in place. "Dabi, I said stop!"

He shushes you again, rutting into you harshly, and a choked sob escapes you when he bottoms out inside you, his hips flush against your backside as you struggle against him. You feel sick to your stomach, and it only worsens when he pulls out until nothing but his tip remains, then drives himself back in with one agonizingly rough thrust.

You keep begging, pleading, wracking your brain and trying every past safe word you can recall, but he only continues to pound into you, his breathing erratic as he pants in your ear. "It's okay, baby. You're taking my cock like such a good girl. You're—ngh—making me feel so good."

The ache between your legs is diminishing slightly as you adjust to his girth, your body entirely unconcerned with whether you want that or not. He's still fingering your sopping cunt too, his palm grinding against your oversensitive clit with each plunge of his long digits, the lewd squelching sound of those attentions mingling with the sharp slap of his hips against your ass as he fucks you.

"You like this?" he asks, but you know he's not really asking. "You like knowing I'm the only one? That I'm making you mine, just mine, just like how it should be?"

"Dabi, stop. Please stop." Your appeals are feeble now, far more for yourself than for him as you continue to utter them between quiet sobs. Dabi's somewhere far away, awash in the tight heat of your ass and the satisfaction of finally staking his claim on you, aware of your supplications but not hearing them, not really.

You slump, still sobbing, and let him take what he wants. His attentions to your cunt have a coil tightening in your gut, but when your climax hits it's perfunctory and mechanical, no real pleasure to be found even as your hips jerk and your holes spasm, a joyless whine passing from your lips.

No real pleasure for you, at least. But fuck, the feel of you squeezing around his cock as you come is what Dabi has been waiting for, your insides massaging his length as though desperate for him to decorate your walls with his cum. It's a gift he's glad to grant—he rocks his hips more urgently, keeping his thrusts shallow now so that he's sure to get it all deep inside.

"Fuck," he groans against your neck. "Gonna make me come, baby girl. That what you want? Want me to fill you up?" You shake your head, but his movements are already growing spurtive and erratic, his grunts louder and throatier, and then you can feel his cock jerking inside you, a hot rush of cum flooding your guts.

Dabi doesn't stop then, either, keeps fucking his seed into you until he's softening, not quite able to work himself in and out of your tight, abused hole any longer, and only then does he finally pull out, a dribble of cum leaking obscenely down your thigh.

You're sniffling, drawing shaky breaths, and you try to pull away the moment his arms relax around you. They only tighten again, his lips planting soft kisses along your temple.

"Shh," he murmurs. The sound of his shushing makes you want to scream. One hand lifts to wipe at the tears on your cheeks. "You were so good, baby girl, there's no need to cry. You were fucking incredible." He means it too, doesn't think he's ever come so hard in his life as he did now, making you his.

Dabi can't wait to do it again.

#dabi x reader #dabi x you #dabi x y/n #mha dabi #bnha dabi #dabi #dabi smut #dabi fanfic #fanon dabi #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha smut #bnha fanfic #bnha reader insert #reader insert #tw: noncon #tw: dubcon #tw: crying

868 notes · View notes

rainieclown · 3 years

Text

DEADLY OBSESSION

michael myers x reader - chapter one: new neighbours

you've been in the haddonfield memorial hospital for what felt like forever with ptsd from a robbery gone wrong when a new patient gets thrown in next to you. he's quiet, perfect company if it weren't for the high security around him.

tags: medication, hospital settings, this is before michael gets out of the hospital, orphan! reader btw, it's spoken about more in detail in the fic, michael being a mute for a while, he does speak in this tho, smut, first times, michael being inexperienced, creampie, biting/marking, big dick michael energy, hymen ripping btw

warnings: ptsd themes, therapy, mentions of murder and depression, eventual smut, loss of virginity, mild blood, slight breeding kink on michael's end

a quick note!

if anything related to the ptsd the reader experiences is incorrect/wrong please let me know so i can correct it and learn! i am researching this so i can to write it with the accuracy it deserves<3

three sharp knocks wake you from your nightmare, you sigh at the sight of the ceiling of your hospital room. bland, the room is so incredibly bland. "y/n, medication time!" the nurse that takes main care for you chirps happily through the door, and you let out a wheeze as you sit up and pull on a shirt. "coming." you say, voice monotone and small. opening the door, you see the nurse with a tray, but what does capture your eye is the guards standing by a door nearby. "miss burnham, what's going on there?" you quirk a brow, taking your sertraline from miss burnham as well as the glass of water. "oh it's just a new patient, don't worry." the nurse brushes your question off with a kind smile as she takes the now empty glass back. "come on, breakfast then art therapy!" she beams, gesturing for you to follow her. you glance at the door again, before leaving with miss burnham.

breakfast is bland too, no sugar in the porridge, no fruit, no juice. it's so distastefully bland that you want to push it away but you don't want to get told off for not eating by mrs finch who was the more strict nurse that worked on supervision in the more social places, most of the time anyway. miss burnham sits across from you, reading over your schedule from her clipboard. "so, after art therapy is your free period, what do you want to do then?" she asks, looking up at you. "can we watch a movie with the others?" you ask softly, and miss burnham's eyes brighten. "you want to socialise today?" she beams and you sigh, taking a sip of water. "sure." you say softly, glancing around the cafeteria. "that's amazing, that will make outstanding progress!" she smiles, resting her cold hand on yours but pulls away when you flinch. "sorry, i forget." she says softly, but you sigh. "it's alright." you say, spotting a scruffy teen who looked to be the same age as you being directed to an empty table.

miss burnham hums and turns to see what you're looking at. "oh, that's mr myers, he's your new neighbour." she says when she turns back to you. "he looks interesting." you say, observing the cuffs on his wrist. myers plops down at the table, ignoring the bowl they put in front of him. "hmm, stay away from him. he seems to be under high security." miss burnham says, turning back to look at myers. the boy's eyes flicker to yours and your breath hitches, a sense of mild panic rising in your throat. "if you're done, we can go to the yellow room to do some painting with doctor piers." burnham says softly, pulling your attention back to her. "sure.." you mumble, and follow her out the door, past myers who watches you the whole way.

doctor piers is a happy man who greets you loudly. you don't like his suffocating energy, so miss burnham sits you down in your quiet corner and gives you your sketchbook. you sit quietly and draw things from your childhood, things that make you happy, all while miss burnham actually colours in a colouring page with the pencils you use. you felt peaceful with her by your side, she was like your big sister considering she was close to your age. "ooh, i like him." miss burnham smiles, tapping her nail next to the rough sketch of snufkin from the moomins. "thanks..." you reply quietly, letting the nurse push the pencils to you so you can colour him in.

for once, you don't feel alone... don't feel isolated with your thoughts and bad memories. miss burnham is your safe place, your new family. "so, y/n. are you interested in anyone in particular that you want to befriend?" miss burnham asks, the scratching of her pencil on paper stopping as she leans forward as if the two of you were gossiping about crushes. "not really... just think it's good to try and ease myself back into being around people other than you." you shrug, putting the green pencil down to pick up a yellow one. "that's still good. do you want to try and finish the drawing of him." she asks, flipping the page carefully to the recreation of that fateful night. your breath hitches as you stare at the charcoal drawing of the man standing over your mother. "what else do you remember, if there's anything else?" burnham asks, watching you carefully.

it comes back in waves, it was supposed to be a robbery, your family was in the wrong place at the wrong time, the blood spatter, the ornament that was used as a weapon dripping with the red substance. tears fill your eyes as you let out a shuddery breath. "no." you say firmly, wanting to push the book away. "are you sure, you haven't drawn any facial features for him.. it will help the investigation a lot." your nurse reminds you, and your hand tightens on the pencil. "i don't want to!" you snap, getting up abruptly, chair screeching back. "okay, okay. deep breaths." burnham stands too, fighting the urge to gently rub your arm soothingly. "i don't want to think about it." you hiss, storming off. nurse burnham calls after you, and doctor piers looks up to see you making a run for it. "y/n, wait!" he tries, but you swerve him and run out the door.

nurse burnham can't keep up in her high heels, and you outrun her easily, making your way to your room after losing her. you're alone again, and you catch sight of myers, sat in his room just as alone as you are. the guard is talking to doctor loomis, a man who gives you the creeps. seeing an opportunity to get past, you slip into your room quickly, once again isolating yourself. in his own room, michael had spotted you through the glass on his door, and he walks up, peering into your room as best he can. "hey! back up, myers." the guard bangs his door, now without loomis's presence, but michael doesn't move. he's unfazed by the guard's aggressive nature. the noise spooked you, you looked like a deer in headlights as you stare back at him.

you seem... disturbed by something, and that upsets michael. the feeling in his chest, to grab you and hide you from the world grows at the look in your eye. michael's hand finds the door, and he yoinks it open once the guard unlocked it in an attempt to push him back into his cell. "hey! what're you-?" he cuts the guard off, knocking the man out easily. his body hits the floor as michael opens your door easily. you gasp, back hitting the corner of your wall as you tried to make yourself as small as possible. "please, don't hurt me! i didn't do anything!" you yell, and michael shakes his head as he closes your door. "leave me alone." you repeat the three words like a prayer, voice quieter as your hands grip your hair with stress. "i'm not going to hurt you." michael rasps painfully, shocked at how deep his voice had gotten in comparison to the last time he spoke.

his words don't seem to get through to you, and he grows mildly annoyed. eventually, michael sits next to you and pulls you into a tight hug, hoping it would help as he had no idea what to do. you yelp in surprise, breathing slowing with confusion as you look up at the brunette with furrowed brows. "i-.. what..?" you stumble for words, but michael doesn't say anything, his empty eyes observing you. "thank you..." you mumble, once you calm down, and michael nods. "what's your name..?" you ask quietly, and michael continues to stare before answering.

"michael." he rasps, pointing at himself. "nice to meet you, michael. i'm y/n." you reply, eyes averting from his anxiously. michael sits with you as you start thinking. more intrusive thoughts break in, and you can't help the small whimper that escapes you as you rub your forehead. michael tilts his head, observing you. "sorry... it's just..." you sigh trying to find an explanation that didn't include what you thought of. "do you ever get intrusive thoughts?" you ask, finally looking at michael. the other teen nods, and you deflate with relief, he'd understand you. "they suck, don't they?" you chuckle half-heartedly, and michael shrugs. "oh, do they not bother you as much?"

he doesn't reply, and you nod slightly. "want me to show you around? i need to take my mind of things." you suggest, getting up and looking at the boy on your floor. michael seems to think for a moment before nodding and following you. you step over the guard carefully, and gesture for michael to follow you. the click-clacking of heels makes you grab the other teen's hand as you pull him around a corner. "shh! they'll be looking for me." you can't help but smile at the make-shift game of cat and mouse. it's been a while since you got to play games. michael blinks at you, letting you lead him around. "this is the rec room, it's the best room here. if you have a free period this is the best place to go. they let you watch anything they have." you smile, creaking the door open carefully.

doctor addison spots you and rushes over. "nurse burnham is looking for you." he whisper yells and you nod. "i'm showing the new guy around so shh!" you say, putting a finger up to your mouth. "it's good to see you getting out of your comfort zone. if i see her i'll tell her you're helping doctor loomis." he winks, and you smile slightly. "thanks addison." you say, pulling michael away from the room. "who's that?" michael's deep voice makes you jump. "oh, doctor addison? he's so cool, he'll give you snacks for after hours." you smile up at him, and michael notes the personality of the doctor. easy target to begin with. "you've seen the cafeteria so let's go to the gardens next." you say, peering around a corner carefully before ducking back, your back bumping into michael's chest. "my nurse is coming, quick, we can hide in here!" you whisper yell, pulling michael into doctor addison's office.

you close the door carefully, and michael observes the room. the decor is very vintage yet comfy, it suits the doctor quite well. you press your ear to the door carefully, listening as miss burnham speaks to doctor addison. you gasp as michael pulls you from the door, hand grasping your wrist. "are you alright?" you ask carefully, looking up at the brunette who didn't seem bothered. he shrugs, simply holding you near to him. your presence stirred something in him, and he didn't know if he should kill you or hold you closer. michael spots a candle stick, and his eyes dart from it to you.

michael lets out a silent breath as he decides on the latter, tugging you into his chest. your breath hitches as you hit his large frame, and your eyes come back to him. craning his head down, michael buries his face into the crook of your neck. you make a small noise, unsure of what to do as he takes in your scent. "uh... michael?" you furrow your brows, hands raised awkwardly as you didn't know where to put them. "shh." he hushes you, hands finding your hips. "what are you-?" your question is cut off by his lips grazing your neck, and it all clicks into place.

your body froze up, michael made a silent note of this. "i- uh.." you stammer as he continues to kiss your neck. "fuck, michael. we shouldn't do this." you say softly, glancing to the door. michael hushes you as his teeth nip your skin, he was testing the waters with you. your knees felt weak as your eyes fluttered shut. it had been so long since you had got to do anything like this, since you got to feel like a teenager. your hand find's michael's fluffy hair as you move his head closer to you.

taking the small success, michael sinks his teeth into your neck fully. the feelings in his chest explode as he finally marks you, suckling the dark bruise onto your skin. you whimper at the feeling, your other hand resting on his chest. eventually, his lips move again, and they find your jaw. you hum, letting him press closer to you as his lips kiss up your your own. when your lips meet, michael's inexperience really shows, he doesn't really know what to do so you take the lead.

eventually, his lips copy your movement as his hands tighten on your hips. you hum into his mouth, fingers gently stroking his scalp as you tilt your head to deepen the kiss. it felt right, and you didn't know why. eventually, when michael pulls away, you gaze into his eyes and notice the scar over his right one. "oh, what happened?" you ask, fingertips gently grazing over the scar on his eyes. upon closer look, his iris was paler than the other, and you guessed his vision was poor from the one eye. you're not able to get a closer look as michael kisses you again. you hands cup his face as you melt into him, lips moving against his fluently. michael moves with you, and you gasp as your lower back hits the desk in the room. the other teen's strong hands lift you and plop you down so you're sitting on the hard wood of the table.

your arms wrap around michael's neck to kiss him again, and he's happy that you're slowly beginning to show interest in him. you make a small noise as michael pulls your legs around his waist, standing between them with his pelvis pressing against yours. teasingly, you shuffle your hips against him as you kiss him again. michael growls softly, grinding into you as he grasps your thighs roughly to stop your movements. "i've never done this before." you admit, keeping him close as he hums. "me neither." he shrugs, kissing you again. you feel eased by michael's lack of experience, it felt like the two of you were experimenting together and that comforts you.

eventually, michael's fingers find the waistband of your pants and you whimper as he tugs them down easily. "no underwear?" he chuckles softly, and your cheeks heat up. "some of us don't have that luxury." you mumble, averting his gaze. "it's fine." he shrugs, fingers brushing over your slit. you gasp at the feeling of him spreading you open, and can't help but move your hips against his digits. his middle finger teases your wet hole, and you whine when he collects some of it to bring into his mouth. you feel slightly embarrassed as he suckles your pleasure off his finger with no shame before moving his hand back down to rub his fingers over your slit again.

your smaller hand finds his, and you guide his fingers to your clit with a small moan. catching your meaning, michael's rough fingers start rubbing small circles over your bud. you gasp, back arching into him as his fingertips stimulate you. "fuck, michael!" you whimper, hands grasping his shirt to pull him closer. he hums at your words, moving so his thumb abused your clit whilst his fingers slowly pushed your hole open. you whine as his fingers press into you, your hymen stretching uncomfortably. "michael, please- i need you." you whimper, letting him lay you back on the desk. removing his hand from you, he pulls down his own pants, erection springing free.

you freeze slightly at his size, unsure if he'll fit. michael notes your uneasiness as rubs your outer thighs softly. you smile nervously as his tip rubs against your cunt, your hands grasping his anxiously as he slowly pushes into you. you wail as his cock rips your hymen, and michael smiles as your blood slowly smears his cock. "it hurts!" you whimper, grabbing his arms tightly with discomfort. michael shushes you, and gives you small kisses until you stop whining. once you've settled around the intrusion and your pussy adjusts to his dick, you give him the nod to say that you're ready. michael slowly pushes in so that he's fully sheathed before pulling out half way. you whimper at the feeling, pleasure slowly overtaking the dull pain you still felt.

eventually, michael finds a medium pace in you, smiling as his cock bobs through the skin of your stomach. you whimper, holding michael's arms even tighter as he fucks into you. "oh fuck..!" you yelp as his tip protrudes from your abdomen. "sh." he replies quickly as your back arches off the table. "fuck, michael- oh!" you press your hand over your mouth to muffle your moans as he speeds up. eventually, his hand moves and starts rubbing fast circles on your clit. you gasp and keen loudly behind your palm as your thighs tremble around his hips. michael grips the flesh of your outer thighs tightly as he adjusts your legs towards you at an awkward angle. despite the weird position, you moan loudly as his cock pushes deeper into you, his tip kissing your womb.

michael hums at the feeling as his hand gets tired of stimulating you, so as a substitute, he brings his hand down onto your swollen bud harshly. you wail at the sting of his slap, pleasure rolling through your body. taking that as a good sign, michael waits before slapping your clit again harder. unexpectedly, you cum on his cock as you shudder and tremble under him. your cunt squeezes michael's cock tightly, preventing him from moving. the way your gummy walls grip him as you twitch around him is too much, so michael pushes into your womb so his cum filled you up.

you gasp at the feeling of his hot seed spilling into you, and michael seems to be loving it because when you come down from your high and loosen around him slightly, he's fucking his cum into you. you can't help but let out a small noise with every thrust, whimpering when michael stops, satisfied with how deep his cum had gone. your womb drinks up his seed nicely as you let michael grab your hands to pull you up into a sitting position. slumping against him, you nuzzle into his chest, your eyes becoming droopy with exhaustion. he grins at your sated state, pulling your pants up for you. once he is dressed as well, he picks you up carefully to bring you back to your room to rest.

michael ignores the nurses who try to stop him, marching past them as he carries your sleepy form to his room instead. he didn't know much, but he did know that only armed guards as well as doctor loomis were only allowed in his room for safety reasons and it was his best bet of keeping you with him. carefully opening his door, he closes it behind him with his foot and watches as the nurses stand anxiously peering through the window. he puts you down carefully on his bed, letting you settle as he sits down. his eyes find the nurses, one of them had left, probably to get security or doctor loomis. rolling his eyes, michael moves his attention back to you. you had already dozed off, and michael looks down to your stomach. the idea of you being swollen with his child excites him, a true marking. however, his hatred for children conflicts that, and he feels slightly frustrated.

three sharp knocks on the door can be heard, and michael lazily looks back over. doctor loomis is standing there, and he looks furious, but michael will stand his ground for you.

#michael myers x reader #michael myers #halloween resurrection

152 notes · View notes

strangelysamantha · 3 years

Text

small details ❀

pope heyward x plus!reader

warnings: slight mentions of an insecure reader, but otherwise really cute fluff :)

words: 1,174.

summary: “i never thought you’d pay attention to me in that way.” when pope accidentally reveals to you, that he does indeed, pay attention to the little things you do.

request: nope :)

a/n: pope is so underrated. i love him so much, so expect me to write a lot of fics about him <3

my masterlist

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pope was always watching you. not in a creepy way, more of, a protective way. he wanted to make sure you were always safe. obviously he would be secretive about it. he didn’t actually want you to know that he was paying attention to everything you did. you, still very unaware of his protectiveness, still managed to worry him often.

you sat on john b’s boat as he sailed you and your friends out into the middle of nowhere. you were sitting on the floor, kiara by your side as you two discussed various political topics. “the ocean is littered with trash. the sea animals have to live in a disgusting environment, that they had no part in destroying.” you nodded as she continued rambling on about her passion for the state of our earth. “i agree kie. it's so unfair to the animals.” you continue in on your conversation.

pope sat behind you listening, sharing his input every once in a while when he deemed necessary. john b was focused on steering the boat while jj was focused on the blunt he was perfectly rolling between his fingers. the boat came to a halt, now still in the ocean’s salty water. “the ship has arrived.” john b laughed before stepping away from the ship's wheel. you laughed at john b, “thanks captain.” he smiles lightly at the name, “anytime.”

“well, who wants to swim?” jj asked, after exhaling the smoke from his blunt from earlier. your breathing quickened but you hid it by applying a fake smile to your lips. “i’m always down.” kie stands up immediately, already undressing to reveal a yellow bikini that was hidden under her clothes. “well, alrighty.” john b glances at you smiling, before he dove into the deep water, kiara and jj following after him. you glance at the three of them as they splash each other with the water.

despite you knowing the pogues for a long while, you still felt nervous every time they invited you out on the boat. your anxiety always spiking when you realized they wanted to swim. you glanced to see pope was already staring at you. “pope? why are you staring at me?” you laugh as a smile appears on his lips as well. “just because. are you going to swim with us?” he doesn't look away from you, waiting patiently for your answer.

you hesitate, looking up at the blue sky. “maybe, i’m still deciding if getting soaking wet is worth it.” he nodded softly, moving beside you. “well i'll stay up here with you.” you frown, not wanting to take away his fun. “no you really don't have to. i don't want to make you miss out.” you look over at him, making eye contact. he takes this time to examine you. your breathing is slightly heavy as your hands fidget together. “are you okay?” he suddenly asks you, catching you off guard. “of course i am pope, why do you ask?” he stays silent, finally looking away from you.

“i know you aren't okay, you don't have to lie to me.” pope placed a hand on your knee, sighing. “i’m fine. you are reading this situation wrong, you don't know me at all.” you huff rolling your eyes. he scoffs. “i don’t know you at all? do you really think that?” he asks, and you shrug slightly. “it appears that way.” pope tries to contain his annoyance but it's inevitable as it all comes rushing out without him really meaning it.

“you really think i don't know you?” you roll your eyes at his repetitiveness, “what do you know about me then?” you ask him. “i know that you light up so easily, so excited by the small things in life, that you smile without even realizing it. how you put others before yourself, to the point you don't even question it, it just comes natural to you. how you are so loyal, and your laugh and smile is capable of lighting up a whole room. the way your hands fidget together when you're nervous, and how you speak so heavily with your eyes. how your leg starts bouncing when the room gets too quiet, and that you mess with the jewelry around your neck when you are in a popular public place. i know you, okay? i know you because i pay attention. whether you think that or not, i know myself, and i know that i do know you.”

your eyes go wide at his words. your mouth openly slightly in shock. pope's eyes going wide as he realizes what he has done. a tear slips down your face. "i'm- i'm sorry i didn't mean to blow up on you like that." you smile softly as you reach in to hug him, he eagerly hugs you back, his arms slipping around your waist. “i never thought you’d pay attention to me in that way.” you say softly. your heart flutters in your chest, "of course i pay attention to you, why wouldn't i?" you smile softly, "pope, i-," your moment is suddenly interrupted by your friends.

in the water you hear john b and jj calling for both you and pope. “are y'all coming out to the water or not?” jj asks and john b follows up, “you guys better join us.” john b stays afloat over the water, as kie slowly climbs onto the boat, she smiles at us. “what are you guys even doing? are y’all kissin’?” jj makes a smooching noise before silencing. you roll your eyes as you imagine the smirk evident on jj’s face as he says his sly comment. "no, jj. and even if we were, i wouldn't tell you." pope looked over the boat at jj swimming, and jj scoffs in shock. "okay, i'll remember that pope." everyone has climbed back into the boat.

“yes, yes. okay, pope and i were just about to join you.” you roll your eyes, pulling off the oversized shirt that once hid your figure. pope copying your actions, ripping his own shirt off. his eyes scan you up and down, admiring your bathing suit before kiara calls him out. “pope, we all see you obsessing, take a photo or move on.” you laugh slightly, before throwing your legs over the boat and dipping your foot into the water, the water being quite warm.

suddenly, someone's hands push you off the boat, submerging you completely under the water. you float above, wiping your eyes. “sorry, i just had too.” pope was smiling down at you, still sitting on the boat. you huff pretending to be mad before rolling your eyes and showcasing a smile on your face. you get payback, splashing water at him, hitting him in the face. ‘HEY!” he jumped in, splashing you. jj soon joined in, as well as kiara and john b. the five of you splashing and playing in the water together. you laughed as you enjoyed a fun time with the people you love most.

<33 here's a quick story as i finish writing some requests to post tmw!!

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tenthgrove · 3 years

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Can I request the one where La Squadra thought the reader was pregnant (when she just actually visited her kid) situation for Bruno's gang?

Mother Mother- Bucci Edition

Team Buccerati x Reader (Fem), Platonic, SFW

Bruno Buccerati is feeling restless. He's not one to pry, but your behaviour lately is starting to concern him. Leaving the base for hours without explanation is no cause for worry in itself, after all, you're not obliged to inform him of your whereabouts 24/7 and you're hardly the only one on the team who does this, but together with the ceaseless obsession with cutting your finances, the uncharacteristic melancholy and the jolt of panic whenever your personal circumstances become the topic of conversation all add up to a bad picture.

The final straw for Buccerati came today, in which while passing you idly on the sofa he caught sight of the word 'parenthood' printed on the title of the leaflet you were reading. He didn't see the rest of what it said, but your guilty smile at being caught spoke well enough for itself.

Buccerati truly does feel bad about this, but with how defensive you become at even the smallest sign of confrontation, he sees no other choice. As he watches you depart your bedroom and head into the bathroom, he waits quietly for the rush of water from the shower, before sneaking into your unlocked bedroom unnoticed.

He will make clear, he thinks to himself as he pilfers through the loose paper on your desk for that leaflet, that he is not angry. If it's what your heart is set on, he isn't even that opposed to the idea of you raising the baby yourself. The squad is decently paid and their work isn't as dangerous or all-consuming as some, so they can manage. He even feels a little bit of excitement at the thought of helping you with your offspring. He's only doing this because it can't be healthy for you to conceal your pregnancy like this. Children have always been such precious things to him.

A pink leaflet flits off of the desk and Buccerati picks up his prize. He reads the title in full.

"Parenthood for the Parents of Hospitalised Children: What Doctors Advise"

Ahh. Now that changes things. Buccerati feels his heart sink at the sight of the stock image of a mother and father standing over the bedside of a sickly-looking girl. He guiltily returns the leaflet to its former place and tries to reorganise the paper as he found it, before exiting quickly.

Having learned his lesson well about making assumptions on too little evidence, Buccerati sits down with his phone book. There's a fellow on one of the intel teams who owes him a small favour, and it's time he called on it.

“Hello, it’s Buccerati, could you do something for me quickly? I need you to check the records of all the hospitals in Naples that hospitalise chronically ill children, and take a look through the names of the patients in the children's ward," he requests. "There's a specific surname I'm after, hang on, I'll find it for you." Buccerati racks his brains. If there's one thing he's certain your being honest about it's your real name. He pulls it from his memories and relays it to his friend. "No, no need to take any action once you find them. Just let me know the details, particularly of the illness. Very well, thank you," he concludes the phone call and hangs up. He leans back in the seat and sighs.

He barely gets half an hour to rest before the phone rings.

"Oh hello, that was quick. Did you find them? That's excellent. What did the records say?"

The agent relays his findings. Matching the surname he gave him is a little girl about 5 years old, currently residing in the hospital closest to Buccerati's base. The child is suffering from a frightful condition that, although rarely fatal with treatment, can leave sufferers in need of constant medical care for months on end, along with more minor support for years after.

The most concerning thing about the records is that the agent was able to find visitation logs attached to the data, and they all speak of a single, anonymous visitor with recorded visits matching perfectly with the dates and times of your disappearances.

Buccerati thanks the agent and promises to wire him a little money for his quick and extensive help. Hanging up, he broods deeply. He cannot simply allow your suffering to continue if there's anything, anything at all he can do to help.

He is broken from his trance by the sounds of panicked footsteps running in from the hall. He catches sight of Mista and Narancia sneaking in from the hallway, and is struck by the immediate impression that they are by all definitions, up to no good.

"What's the matter you two? You seem startled," he presses them patiently. He is met with two loud sounds of 'uhhhh'.

"Nothing Buccerati, we swear it!" Narancia promises.

"Yeah! In fact, we were just going to the shops and were arguing over what to get!" Mista backs him up. Buccerati rolls his eyes and smiles.

"Alright. Not too much sugar, Narancia? We don't want to find you being sick in the bathroom at two in the morning again, do we?"

"It's not me you have to worry about doing that now," Narancia mutters under his breath.

"Pardon?" Buccerati asks, confused.

"Nothing! We should go now!"

The boys immediately make their exit out the front and disappear down the street. Bruno tuts. Sometimes he thinks he'll never understand that lot. He smiles.

As he replays the encounter in his head, it occurs to him what that strange item poking out of Mista's pocket was. The leaflet from (y/n)'s room. Shit.

"Mista? Narancia? I think we should have a word please!" Buccerati shouts down the entry street. But it's two late, they've both disappeared out of earshot. Buccerati throws his hands up in despair, and returns to his room.

::::::::::::

Abbacchio knows what he sees. Mista and Narancia go running down the street and about 20 second later, Buccerati goes out shouting. As Abbacchio watches Buccerati return to the house in defeat, he makes a decision. He's had enough of those kids and their petty little antics. If Buccerati doesn't have it in him to set them straight, he will.

"You look pressed," Fugo remarks as Abbacchio pushes past him in the corridor.

"None of your business. Mista and Narancia are up to no good and now I've got to go and find them," Abbacchio grunts.

"Narancia?! But he promised me he'd work on his assignments tonight! Little bastard, I'll kill him!" Fugo fumes.

"Will you now? Better keep up then," Abbacchio says, throwing on his coat.

It doesn't take them long at all to find Mista and Narancia. Indeed, they're cowering in the very first alleyway left of the house.

"We can explain," Narancia promises.

"I bet you can," Abbacchio mutters half-heartedly.

"Take a look at this!" Narancia urges them. He pulls a pink leaflet from Mista's pocket and rereads it himself. "It says 'parenthood'. We found it in (y/n)'s room. Does that mean she's pregnant?"

"Why in god's name were you snooping around in (y/n)'s room?" Abbacchio interrogates them.

"Furthermore Narancia, you can't read," Fugo adds.

"Well, for a start, Buccerati did it first. We just went in after him to see what it was he was looking for. Second, Mista read it for me, and he swears it says 'parenthood'. Isn't that right Mista?"

"Sure is," Mista affirms. "Look."

He flicks the leaflet in front of them and, sure enough, they all read the same word. Abbacchio and Fugo curse simultaneously.

"What the hell is their game, thinking they can hide something like this from us?" Abbacchio fumes. "Does Bruno think he's protecting her or something? He's a fool."

"If I may, Abbacchio, it is most uncharacteristic of you to speak ill of Signor Buccerati," a voice from behind protests. Abbacchio turns with a jolt to see Giorno standing at the entrance of the alleyway along with a very bewildered looking Trish. They each have a couple of shopping bags in their hands.

"Are you spying on me?!" Abbacchio shrieks.

"Not at all. I simply thought that going after dark would be a much safer time for Trish to do her shopping, so I was taking her out," Giorno explains. "I overheard your voices and came to investigate, but I really haven't heard much."

"(Y/n)'s pregnant and Buccerati's hiding it from us," Mista fills him in.

"Wait, I'm lost. Did Buccerati get her pregnant? Because if so, what in the actual hell?" Trish comments.

"Fucking christ. Could you imagine?" Narancia remarks. The group soon devolves into a mess of interrupted shouting.

"All of you quiet!" Abbacchio yells. He holds up his hands in desperation. "We are going to get to the bottom of this and we're going to do it now! We are going right home, and we are getting (y/n) to explain herself, whether she likes it or not. Agreed?"

::::::::::::

You had an awful eery feeling getting out that shower would be a mistake. The last thing you expected tonight was being hounded by your dear teammates while you're half dressed and wet haired, particularly on such an outlandish concept as pregnancy.

"Slow down! What the hell are you accusing me of again?"

"You're having a baby and you aren't even telling us! Do you have any idea how much those cost?" Trish accuses. You don't even have an answer for that one, it's just so completely wrong there's no way to refute it.

"We aren't looking to judge, we just want to help," Giorno assures you, though his voice is drowned out by the rest of the rabble.

"I don't need help, I'm not having a baby!" you protest. Narancia opens his mouth.

"But the leaflet says-"

"What on god's earth are the lot of you doing?" Bruno calls from the hallway. "Why are you all hounding (y/n) all of a sudden."

"You think we don't know what you know, Buccerati?" Abbacchio confronts him. "You're complicit in this. You're helping to hide this- baby!"

Buccerati breathes deeply.

"Ah. I believe I know what this is about. Mista, I want you to take that leaflet you found and read the front page out to me. In full."

Mista complies.

"Parenthood... for the Parents of Hospitalised Children. Oh."

"You made the same mistake I did," Buccerati explains. "You saw the first word and immediately jumped to your own conclusions. But in regards to the full title I have carried out some follow up and have confirmed it is exactly what it sounds like. (Y/n) has a young daughter who is unfortunately quite sick at present, and she has understandably been taking time off to be with her."

"You know about her?" you exclaim in panic.

"Apologies (y/n), I was acting only in concern for your health. It was admittedly due to my poor caution that the others found out and, well, it went from there."

"Look," you protest, thoughts spiralling into panic. "I didn't mean for you to know. You said I could do what I wanted with my money so I did. There- there was no other way I could afford to treat her," you justify, tears starting to leak from your eyes. "Please don't kick me out. I swear this doesn't affect my work, all I need is a few hours a week to check on her!"

You collapse against the door in tears. The crowd goes into a shocked silence. Buccerati pushes to the front.

"Hey, hey, I'm not going to kick you out so don't worry," he promises. "I would never cut off a member of my squad like that, especially not when they have such a vulnerable dependent. We can talk about helping you with the money tomorrow, but now, let's get you calmed down okay?"

You nod through your tears. Buccerati guides you to your feet and leads you gently into the kitchen. The remaining group in the hall look at each other with pressed lips. Fugo takes the leaflet from Mista and reads through the front cover once more. He hits him.

#team buccerati #team buccellati #bruno buccerati x reader #bruno buccellati x reader #bruno buccerati #bruno buccellati #leone abbacchio #leone abbacchio x reader #giorno giovanna #giorno giovanna x reader #guido mista #guido mista x reader #narancia ghirga #narancia ghirga x reader #pannacotta fugo #pannacotta fugo x reader #trish una #trish una x reader

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fatliberation · 3 years

Text

I’m Abandoning Body Positivity and Here’s Why

In short: it’s fatphobic.

“A rallying cry for a shift in societal norms has now become the skinny girl’s reassurance that she isn’t really fat. Fatness, through this lens of ‘body positivity’, remains the worst thing a person can be.” (Kayleigh Donaldson)

• • •

I have always had a lot of conflicting opinions about the body positivity movement, but it’s much more widely known (and accepted, go figure) than the fat liberation movement, so I often used the two terms interchangeably in conversation about anti-fatness. But the longer I’ve been following the body positivity movement, the more I’ve realized how much it has strayed from its fat lib origins. It has been hijacked; deluded to center thin, able, white, socially acceptable bodies.

Bopo’s origins are undoubtedly grounded in fat liberation. The fat activists of the 1960s paved the way for the shred of size acceptance we see in media today, initially protesting the discrimination and lack of access to equal opportunities for fat people specifically. This early movement highlighted the abuse, mental health struggles, malpractice in the medical field, and called for equal pay, equal access, equal respect, an end to fatphobic structures and ideas. It saddens me that it hasn’t made much progress in those regards.

Today, the #bopo movement encapsulates more the idea of loving your own body versus ensuring that individuals regardless of their weight and appearance are given equal opportunities in the workplace, schools, fashion and media. Somehow those demands never made it outside of the ‘taboo’ category, and privileged people would much more readily accept the warm and fuzzy, sugar-coated message of “love yourself!” But as @yrfatfriend once said, this idea reduces fat people’s struggles to a problem of mindset, rather than a product of external oppressors that need to be abolished in order for fat people to live freely.

That generalized statement, “love yourself,” is how a movement started by fat people for the rights of fat people was diluted so much, it now serves a thin model on Instagram posting about how she has a tummy roll and cellulite on her thighs - then getting praised for loving her body despite *gasp!* its minor resemblance to a fat body.

Look. Pretty much everyone has insecurities about their bodies, especially those of us who belong to marginalized groups. If you don’t have body issues, you’re a privileged miracle, but our beauty-obsessed society has conditioned us to want to look a certain way, and if we have any features that the western beauty standard considers as “flaws,” yeah! We feel bad about it! So it’s not surprising that people who feel bad about themselves would want to hop on a movement that says ‘hey, you’re beautiful as you are!’ That’s a message everyone would like to hear. Any person who has once thought of themselves as less than beautiful now feels that this movement is theirs. And everyone has insecurities, so everyone feels entitled to the safe space. And when a space made for a minority includes the majority, the cycle happens again and the majority oppresses the minority. What I’m trying to explain here is that thin people now feel a sense of ownership over body positive spaces.

Regardless of how badly thin people feel about their bodies, they still experience thin privilege. They can sit down in a theater or an airplane without even thinking about it, they can eat in front of others without judgement, they can go the doctor with a problem and actually have it fixed right away, they can find cute clothes in their size with ease, they do not suffer from assumptions of laziness/failure based on stereotype, they see their body type represented everywhere in media, the list goes on and on. They do not face discrimination based off of the size of their body.

Yet diet culture and fatphobia affects everyone, and of course thin people do still feel bad about the little fat they have on their bodies. But the failure to examine WHY they feel bad about it, is what perpetuates fatphobia within the bopo movement. They’re labeled “brave” for showing a pinch of chub, yet fail to address what makes it so acceptably daring, and how damaging it is to people who are shamed for living in fat bodies. Much like the rest of society, thin body positivity is still driven by the fear of fat, and does nothing to dismantle fatphobia within structures or within themselves.

Evette Dionne sums it up perfectly in her article, “The Fragility of Body Positivity: How a Radical Movement Lost Its Way.”

“The body-positive media economy centers these affirming, empowering, let-me-pinch-a-fat-roll-to-show-how-much-I-love-myself stories while failing to actually challenge institutions to stop discriminating against fat people. More importantly, most of those stories center thin, white, cisgender, heterosexual women who have co-opted the movement to build their brands. Rutter has labeled this erasure ‘Socially Acceptable Body Positivity.’

“On social media, it actually gets worse for fat bodies: We’re not just being erased from body positivity, fat women are being actively vilified. Health has become the stick with which to beat fat people with [sic], and the benchmark for whether body positivity should include someone” (Dionne).

Ah, yes. The medicalization of fat bodies, and the moralization of health. I’ve ranted about this before. Countless comments on posts of big women that say stuff like “I’m all for body positivity, but this is just unhealthy and it shouldn’t be celebrated.” I’ve heard writer/activist Aubrey Gordon once say that body positivity has become something like a shield for anti-fatness. It’s anti-fatness that has been repackaged as empowerment. It’s a striking double-standard. Fat people are told to be comfortable in their bodies (as if that’s what’s going to fix things) but in turn are punished when they’re okay with being fat. Make it make sense.

Since thin people feel a sense of ownership over body positive spaces, and they get to hide behind “health” when they are picking and choosing who can and cannot be body positive, they base it off of who looks the most socially acceptable. And I’m sure they aren’t consciously picking and choosing, it comes from implicit bias. But the socially acceptable bodies they center are small to medium fat, with an hourglass shape. They have shaped a new beauty standard specifically FOR FAT PEOPLE. (Have you ever seen a plus sized model with neck fat?? I’m genuinely asking because I have yet to find one!) The bopo movement works to exclude and silence people who are on the largest end of the weight spectrum.

Speaking of exclusion, let’s talk about fashion for a minute.

For some reason, (COUGH COUGH CAPITALISM) body positivity is largely centered around fashion. And surprise surprise, it’s still not inclusive to fat people. Fashion companies get a pat on the back for expanding their sizing two sizes up from what they previously offered, when they are still leaving out larger fat people completely. In general, clothing companies charge more for clothes with more fabric, so people who need the largest sizes are left high and dry. It’s next to impossible to find affordable clothes that also look nice. Fashion piggybacks on the bopo movement as a marketing tactic, and exploits the very bodies it claims to be serving. (Need I mention the time Urban Outfitters used a "curvy” model to sell a size it doesn’t even carry?)

The movement also works to exclude and silence fat Black activists.

In her article, “The Body Positivity Movement Both Takes From and Erases Fat Black Women” Donyae Coles explains how both white people and thin celebrities such as Jameela Jamil profit from the movement that Black women built.

“Since long before blogging was a thing, fat Black women have been vocal about body acceptance, with women like Sharon Quinn and Marie Denee, or the work of Sonya Renee Taylor with The Body Is Not An Apology. We’ve been out here, and we’re still here, but the overwhelming face of the movement is white and thin because the mainstream still craves it, and white and thin people have no problem with profiting off the work of fat, non-white bodies.”

“There is a persistent belief that when thin and/or white people enter the body positive realm and begin to repeat the messages that Black women have been saying for years in some cases, when they imitate the labor that Black women have already put in that we should be thankful that they are “boosting” our message. This completely ignores the fact that in doing so they are profiting off of that labor. They are gaining the notoriety, the mark of an expert in something they learned from an ignored Black woman” (Coles).

My next essay will go into detail about this and illuminate key figures who paved the way for body acceptance in communities of color.

The true purpose of this movement has gotten completely lost. So where the fuck do we go from here?

We break up with it, and run back to the faithful ex our parents disapproved of. We go back to the roots of the fat liberation movement, carved out for us by the fat feminists, the queer fat activists, the fat Black community, and the allies it began with. Everything they have preached since the 1960s and 70s is one hundred percent applicable today. We get educated. We examine diet culture through a capitalist lens. We tackle thin, white-supremacist systems and weight based discrimination, as well as internalized bias. We challenge our healthcare workers to unlearn their bias, treat, and support fat patients accordingly. We make our homes and spaces accessible and welcoming to people of any size, or any (dis)ability. “We must first protect and uplift people in marginalized bodies, only then can we mandate self-love” (Gordon).

Think about it. In the face of discrimination, mistreatment, and emotional abuse, we as a society are telling fat people to love their bodies, when we should be putting our energy toward removing those fatphobic ideas and structures so that fat people can live in a world that doesn’t require them to feel bad about their bodies. It’s like hitting someone with a rock and telling them not to bruise!

While learning to love and care for the body that you’re in is important, I think that body positivity also fails in teaching that because it puts even more emphasis on beauty. Instead of saying, “you don’t have to be ‘beautiful’ to be loved and appreciated,” its main lesson is that “all bodies are beautiful.” We live in a society obsessed with appearance, and it is irresponsible to ignore the hierarchy of beauty standards that exist in every space. Although it should be relative, “beautiful” has been given a meaning. And that meaning is thin, abled, symmetric, and eurocentric.

Beauty and ugliness are irrelevant, made-up constructs. People will always be drawn to you no matter what, so you deserve to exist in your body without struggling to conform to an impossible and bigoted standard. Love and accept your body for YOURSELF AND NO ONE ELSE, because you do not exist to please the eyes of other people. That’s what I wish we were teaching instead. Radical self acceptance!

As of today, the ultimate message of the body positivity movement is: Love your body “despite its imperfections.” Or people with “perfect and imperfect bodies both deserve love.” As long as we are upholding the notion that there IS a perfect body that looks a certain way, and every body that falls outside of that category is imperfect, we are upholding white supremacy, eugenics, anti-fatness, and ableism.

#body positivity #bopo #body posi #body positive #body acceptance #fat acceptance #fat activism #fat liberation #anti fatness #anti blackness #anti fat bias #lookism #beauty standards #self acceptance

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keiarchived · 3 years

Note

Can I request Hawks with a very shy darling that is always shying away from him because she’s nervous to talk to him because he’s a stranger, and maybe it’s about how he slowly gains her trust and coaxes her out to his loving arms 🥺

@yanbaere: I’m in love with you blog 🥺 yandere Hawks makes me really soft and I love him,,, can I request some yandere hawks with a shy and insecure s/o? 🥺 he would be so protective and sweet with them and would definitely harm anyone that tries to hurt them or makes them feel bad,,he just hits different when he’s a yandere 👉🏻👈🏻 I adore your blog and your writing! It’s amazing 💕💕

anon: how about a one shot of yandere! Hawks x virgin/! reader ? 👀 I imagine he would be so freaking happy he got to be his s/o’s first time but of course he probably already knew that; he’s a little rough and haz a breeding kink but nothing you can’t handle, right? >;)

Yan Hawks with a shy birdie 🥺 this low-key adorable but also flirty af so like prepare yourself ♥️ Also thank you for the support guys! ♥️

Sorry it took so long 🥺

Yandere!Hawks x Shy!F!Reader

warnings: Yandere, manipulation, possessive, obsessive, breeding kink

words: 1.4k

The moment Keigo laid his eyes on you, he knew you were different. This pure and glowing aura radiating off you is unreal, it’s not often the number two hero let other catch him by the wings. Even rarer for him to be so interested in someone but you... you’re a breath of fresh air.

It was during a Christmas party when he met you, trying to make yourself as small as possible behind your mother. Being the child of a single mother hero meant attention often find its way towards the two of you, with men and women alike wondering how she do it. Raise a kid as well as dedicate herself to being a hero, there honestly are no secrets. Your mother and you function like any other family, sure there will be times where she would come home late and you have to help out a lot more than usual. But you don’t mind, your mother have been working hard for the two of you after all.

Plus it’s not like you’re a child, you’re more than capable of taking care of yourself. Just a little shy and nervous around the edge, nothing Keigo couldn’t help you through. “Hey, glad you could make it.” The winged hero said in his usually layback tone as he greeted your mother, they had worked together on the same mission before and needless to say she is more than impressed by Hawks’ skills. The perfect son in law wouldn’t you say?

As per usual, you hide before your mother as the two heroes continued with their conversation. Catching up with each other whilst chuckles and laughs were heard but of course, Keigo’s eyes were set on you -- like how it had been in the last couple of minutes whilst talking to your mother whilst wondering how he could get you alone. It’s you he wants to talk to after all, as if lady luck is on Keigo’s side today, some other hero waved at your mother and has kindly asked her to come over, perfect. “Honey, why don’t you stay here with Hawks for a moment? I’ll be right back. You wouldn’t mind would you?”

Oh if only she knew the danger that lurks behind his artificial smile, how this man have already laid his trap to lure you in. “Sure, of course. I don’t mind.” Keigo smiles with teeth rooting sweetness behind those word, before you could even protest, your safety shield has wander off.

There was a moment of awkward silence when you watched your mother’s figure blends into the crowd, greeting her fellow heroes but before you dig deeper into those mindless thoughts Keigo managed to snapped you out of it with a simple chuckle. Was it if ill will or kindness, you don’t know. The only thing you know is how handsome his face is upon a closer look, sandy blonde locks with a few strays among those well swoop back ones and a pair of dangerous looking golden hues to pair with. “What’s your name dove?”

“Y/N...” You were hesitant to give Keigo your name, felt as though you had just signed a contract with the devil himself and rest was history.

It took a while for you to truly open up to the winged hero but surprisingly or unsurprisingly, he was patient. Taking those small but necessary steps in order to make you comfortable, as much as he is obsessed with you, Keigo still put your comfort first above everything. Bring you small gifts that reminds you that he’s there whenever you need him, despite the hours of a day. If it’s for you, he will make it work. Date nights often resulted in spending inside and Keigo is fine with it, movie nights, game nights as long as he get to spend the time with you he is more than happy. Needless to say, your mother is supportive of the relationship with Keigo, how could she not when the perfect son in law present himself as your boyfriend?

He would never hurt you unlike all those other corrupted men, you know that right? As long as you are under his wings, nothing could harm you.

Keigo have been patient, he really have. Only doing whatever you’re comfortable with, soft kisses, caressing those cute flustered cheeks of yours, a hand tracing shapes on your thighs but it was all becoming too much. He wants you.

The thought of you crying out his name in pleasure, body quivering in needs as lewd wet sounds bounces off walls surrounding the two of you is enough to have his own cock grow hard. “Keigo...” Oh, if only you could see the expression you said his name with. So cute but yet alluring, “Princess... if you keep saying my name like that, you’re in trouble.” But you already know that don’t you? The way Keigo have been eyeing you ever since he have you cages beneath him on these soft sheets, golden shimmers with minimal lights, soft kisses soon became desperate and needy.

Your breath soon became unevening as Keigo trails those kisses further and further away from your lips, nibbling and biting hard enough to leave beautiful marks. “Wa-wait! Keigo please...” It wasn’t as if you didn’t want him to take you, in fact is the complete opposite. Everytime the winged hero left you breathless, a shameless patch of dampness gathers between your thighs. “Hm? What is it baby? I’m sorry I-“

“I’m a virgin.” Keigo’s eyes widen slightly, pretending as if he was completely clueless about the news. Sweetheart, Keigo knows every details about you and he is well informed. But the way you said it, cheeks red as his own wings and a slight pout on your lips — the less he could do is give you a reaction you wanted. “We’ll take it slow princess...”

Well at least the beginning he was.

When Keigo finally inches his cock into those throbbing tightnsss, it was surreal. The mere feeling had him tossing his head back in bliss whilst he tries to hold himself back, gritting his teeth until he was balls deep. Peppering you with kisses in order to help you ease up, adjust to the size of his cock stretching your untouched cunt open. “Fuck... you’re doing so good baby...” Keigo would coos, tugging those loose strands of hair behind your ears and away from your forehead before he finally started rutting into you. Those soft moans and whimpers only egged him on, feeling the way your nails dug at the sides and under his wings. God, it was like you wanted him to go wild, to go feral and eventually he did.

Hips snapping against your mound with long deep strokes, hard enough to leave them red even in the morning after as Keigo have you folded into a mating press. Hands gripping firmly on either sides of your ankles, drinking ever last bits of those delicious twists of pleasure from you. “Hm.. you like that?” A lazy grin stretched across his lips, “Like being breed like a bitch in heat even though I just took your virginity?” The mere thought of him being your first and last man, the one to corrupt you is enough to drive Keigo’s little edge further, drilling even deeper into your cunt to leave your body arching in bliss.

“Ke-Keigo no more-!” You have already lost count of the number of orgasm he managed to rip out of you in the last two hours, but you’re damn well sure if Keigo edges you to another, those pretty eyes of yours just might roll back and stay close. “Just one more baby, you can do it for me can’t you? You’ve been doing so well so far princess.” Keigo coos, with the same sweet smile as he pressed a soft kiss to your ankle. Just a little more until he soils you, nothing you can’t handle right?

“Gonna fill you nice and good~” The winged hero promised and he always keep his promises, at least with you. With the last deep thrust meeting your pelvis, Keigo grunts before ropes of cum painted your once virgin walls white. Panting as he collapsed atop of you slowly, letting out a blissful hum.

After a while, Keigo withdraw from you as he watched the way his own seed seeps out of you only to push those back where they belong. “Good girl, you did an amazing job baby.” He coos softly, peppering you with kisses all over.

As Keigo expected, you’re different and he’s glad to call you his own.

#bnha smut #bnha imagines #mha smut #mha imagines #hawks x reader #hawks smut #takami keigo #hawks imagine #tw’yandere #tw’breeding #tw’obsessive #tw’manipulation #yannugget 🐤

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thefanficmonster · 4 years

Text

Inky Memories

Corpse Husband x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Swearing, Drug Use (Past), Domestic Violence (Past), Shoplifting (Past)

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Summary: Tattoos can reveal a lot about a person. What will Y/N’s tattoos, which she has kept hidden for so long, reveal to Corpse? Will it change anything between them?

Requested by Anon. If you’re reading this you know who you are 😊 Thank you for the request, hope you like what I did with it. Sorry if I made it too angsty! And my most sincere apologies for publishing it so late. Enjoy XOXO ❤

“Guys, come on now! I’m not hiding anything!“ I laugh, looking up from the comments to the camera, “You know how much I hate being embarrassed! Believe me when I say these tattoos are EMBERRASSING. I got them while I was either drunk or in my emo phase and I’m not too proud of them.“

I’m currently doing an Instagram live Q&A session that I scheduled last week. I do one every month and it’s my favorite way of connecting with my audience. An hour of chill lo-fi and questions and answers. I get really excited every time I schedule the session. My fans are such amazing people and they are all so supportive, funny, intelligent...I could go on and on about their positive qualities. One thing I’m not too fond of is their persistent curiosity. Here’s why.

Yesterday, while streaming, I got an unexpected pain in my forearm. Instinctively, I lifted my shirt sleeve to see what was wrong, flashing a few tattoos at my viewers in the process. I’ve never mentioned my tattoos to my audience, not even my boyfriend, actually, so to have this much attention on them so suddenly makes me want to hide them even more. People started commenting on them during the stream and I tried to dodge the majority of the questions, but I knew they would be inevitable during the Q&A. If the session hadn’t been scheduled for like a week at that point I maybe would’ve postponed it until the dust settled.

“I have several. Not only on my arm.“ I only answer these vague questions. I avoid the ones that are asking details like what is depicted with the tattoos and what’s their meaning, bla, bla, bla.

Here’s the thing. I got my first tattoo when I was fifteen at this shady alley tattoo shop and I’ve been obsessed with tattoos since. I made a deal with myself to get at least one every year.

Needless to say, I’m twenty years old and have almost the same number of tattoos. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not ashamed of them. And I lied when I said they were embarrassing. I am quite happy with them, the way they look, at least. Each of them represent something different. Unfortunately, they are representative of some dark and depressing times. Times I want only the fewest of few people to know about.

“Yes, he’s here. You can’t see him, but he’s waving. He says hi.“ Corpse is the perfect distraction. My viewers love him just as much - maybe more - as they love me.

He knows how easily I get overwhelmed by the attention and pressure of thousands of eyes on me and whenever I’m having a hard time while streaming all he has to do is walk in my recording room and just say the most random thing. Recently, his go-to phrase has been ‘Chicken wing’ and it always cracks up both me and my viewers.

Speaking of Corpse, him and I have been dating for over a year now. We moved in together a month or two before quarantine was officially a thing so we have been together 24/7. It’s scary how many things you can pick up on when you spend so much time with someone. That, of course, means he has noticed some of my tattoos. He has asked me about them, like why I cover them up and why am I so secretive about them and I’ve always been vague and indirect with my answers. He’s the sweetest and most patient person ever, so he has never pressed me with the questions, but I’m still hoping to gain the courage to reveal them to him someday.

“Thanks for tuning in, guys! See you tomorrow for my regular stream and next month for a chill hang out like this one. Love you, stay safe. Mwah!“ And with that the live video is done and I can finally breathe out a sigh of relief.

“Now we can order dinner“ I smile at Corpse who is chilling on the couch in my recording room. He looks up from his phone screen, returning my smile. “Were you recording a Behind The Scenes again?“

He does that often, not only with my Instagram lives but sometimes my streams as well. That’s actually how we revealed our relationship to our fanbases.

He nods, “Yeah.” He pauses for a second, switching to a sitting position with his feet touching the floor. We’re almost at eye-level now. His arms snake around my waist as he pulls me closer towards him. I take the hint and settle in his lap, my legs on either side of him. “I admire how well you handled the pressure back there. I know how you feel about that topic.”

The small bit of anxiety that has started spreading throughout my chest disappears. He has that calming effect on me. Like my own personal safety blanket that’s with me at all times. “I wouldn’t have handled it so well if you weren’t here with me.” I say as I run a hand through his hair, moving a few stray curls away from his gorgeous eyes.

He shakes his head, making the strands fall back over his eyes, “It has nothing to do with me, Y/N. You are simply an amazing person, that’s all.“ His cold hand cups my burning red cheek, leaning my head down so our foreheads are touching. “Nothing could change my mind about it.“

That sentence causes a small pang in my chest. I feel like a manipulator. I’ve led this man to fall in love with me without knowing the past versions. I realize it’s incredibly manipulative of me to reveal my dark aspects only after we’re head over heels for one another, but I can live with it. If it were up to me, he’d never have to know. He would never have to find out that I’m not the amazing person he thinks I am. I have been broken countless times before and all my pieces are just glued in place. Not all of them are where they’re supposed to be and some of them are on the verge of breaking off. Just like a mirror. You can put all the pieces together but not only will you see the cracks, the shards can fall at any moment.

My tattoos are to me as the cracks are to the mirror - evidence of my fragility and the many falls and breaks I’ve had throughout my life.

“Are you sure about that?“ I whisper, trying my hardest to engrave every detail of this moment in my mind because, after what I’m about to do, I’m afraid we might never be like this again.

The softness of his curls, his scent, his warmth, the way he makes me feel. I can hardly believe I’m risking losing all of that, but I owe him the truth.

I feel him nod against my forehead. I tense up and pull away so I can look him in the eyes. It’s hard for me to maintain eye contact especially when I’m fighting back tears. I can’t even say I’m about to lose him. I’m about to let him go. It’s up to him if he stays or decides that he deserves better.

No backing out, Y/N.

I grab the hem of my sweater and lift it up, revealing the many ink drawings on my skin. I discard the sweater on the floor, leaving me in only my bra meaning all my tattoos are on display. Not exactly all, I have some on my legs as well, but these are some of the most important ones. The ones which reveal most about who I used to be.

Corpse takes my hands, tilting my arms so he can take a better look at the tattoos that go from my wrists to the bend of my arm. His thumbs caress the tattoo on each of my wrists. “This one... “ I nod to my left wrist, “I got on my friend’s birthday. We both did. They’re matching.“ The tattoo depicts a heart with a keyhole. “She got the key.“

“I thought I had the key.“ He says, smirking up at me.

“You do now.“ I feel the pang again but this time it doesn’t go away. It’s a constant pain - a constant fear. Being scared of something inevitable is the most nerve-wracking feeling. It makes you feel small, helpless, like you’re standing aside watching your life be controlled by a force you can’t see.

Before he can break me even more, I go on, nodding to my upper arm, a little below my shoulder where there’s a rope tattoo that bends around my arm, its ends connecting in a bow, “I got this one after my shoulder healed.”

His brows furrow in concern as he tilts my head for me to look at him, “Healed from what?”

Here we go. Let the cat out of the bag. “Um....well...” I instinctively reach up to touch my shoulder, running my fingertips over the inked rope. “My dad wasn’t a very nice guy.”

I can pinpoint the second his heart breaks. I don’t want to hear what he has to say, I know it will kill me, so I just continue, moving onto the one on my other wrist where the word ‘Shadow’ is written in cursive writing, “This was my nickname in my friend group. I was the only one to never get caught shoplifting.”

The tears are gonna start rolling at any moment so I deliver the final blow, moving onto the most traumatic event, aka the tattoo on my collarbone of a heartbeat turning into a dead line and kicking up again, “This one I got after I woke up from my almost overdose.”

As if on cue, a tear falls from my eye onto his hand that’s still holding mine. My voice remains still, to my surprise, but I know it won’t be long before it too gives and breaks. I can’t look at him. I don’t want to see any sympathy or that look like he doesn’t recognize me. I feel like I’ve let both myself and him down.

“Why didn’t you tell me any of this?“ he asks me in a whisper. He sounds almost hurt. “You know you can tell me anything.“

I see another tear fall, “I know. I just...didn’t want you to think any less of me.“

Again, he lifts my head so he can look me straight in the eyes. He knows how much I struggle with eye contact and how much I hate crying in front of people, he knows how vulnerable I feel when someone’s looking me in the eyes or when someone sees me cry. He also knows that he’s the only exception to that rule. He knows I never feel out of place when he’s around.

“Think less of you? Babe, you’re a fighter like no other. You picked you life back up. You did all that on your own. You’re a warrior, Y/N.“

I smile through the tears which are now ones of joy instead of fear and dread. “I was a dumb teenager, Corpse. I had no idea what I was doing. I just wanted to get a thrill and feel something other than pain. I know I went about it the wrong way but...” he gives my hand an encouraging squeeze, “And you’re wrong, I didn’t do it all on my own.” I release his hand so I can cup his cheek. His hand comes up to cover mine as I swipe my thumb on his cheekbone, “I met you a month after I left the hospital. The rest you know. I moved to a less druggie populated part of town and I repaired my relationship with my aunt. All that time, I was balancing between the need to relapse and the will to stay alive. After I met you, that balancing act was no longer a balancing act at all. I didn’t even think about my past anymore. I was more focused on what I could be. On what I have to be to deserve to have you by my side.”

“You will always have me on your side, Y/N. Even when you don’t want or need me there.“ With both his hands holding mine he leans forward, connecting our lips. It’s a short kiss laced with nothing but love and adoration.

As we lay on the couch, him asking about each individual tattoo I didn’t get to tell him about, everything just seems a lot easier. Like a big area that was previously dark has suddenly turned into the brightest point of our relationship.

“I need to get that key tattooed. It’s only appropriate.“ He says, his finger tracing the heart on my wrist.

“Or an ownership deal for it. That heart’s yours, you know.“ I laugh, lifting my arm to inspect the oldest painting on my body, “It’s your favorite one?”

“No.” he shakes his head, “This is my favorite one.” he leans down and kisses the heartbeat on my collar bone. “I’m so glad it started beating again.”

“I am too.“

@susceptible-but-siriusexual @simonsbluee @save-the-sky @hacker-ghost @itsminniekat @bi-andready-tocry @imtiredaffff @jazzkaurtheglorious @hereforbeebo @fandomgirl17 @chrysanthykios @maehemscorpyus

#corpse husband #corpse #husband #corpsehusband #corpse simp #corpse husband fanfic #corpse x reader #corpse x y/n #corpse fanfiction #corpse husband fanfiction #corpse fanfic #requests #request #requests open #x reader #reader insert #love #angst

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leda-x · 3 years

Note

Hello! I just finished A Snapping Sound and absolutely loved it, it was so so good! I just had a quick question about how Danny ultimately passed since I'm a bit confused-

Did he get caught somehow during the second escape and then after some time Vlad did the same to him as the others? Or was it accidental death in his escape? I thought his escape plan was quite clever, I'm wondering how he got found and how he died exactly 😭

Thank you!

Hey I wrote this whole thing out... somewhere... lemme find it...

Danny hadn’t seen the sky in aeons. Time was no longer marked by sunrise and sunset. Days were marked by when his tormentor entered the basement and when he left. Danny obsessively picked the routine apart, unraveling it, replaying it over and over for a way to exploit it. He had nothing else to do except log the details of his captivity.

When he’s about to leave he stomps three times to knock the dirt from his shoes.

He takes the steps two at a time when he descends, one at a time when he ascends.

After he leaves, I have approximately seven hours until he comes back. Seven hours to escape, give or take thirty minutes of error, seeing as I counted the seconds, during five different ‘nights’, then averaged them.

Of course, his captor caught onto that pretty quickly. After Danny’s first botched escape attempt the man was careful to randomize his routine in such a way that Danny was left in a constant state of disorientation. He was kept cuffed for what felt like days on end, then, without any reasoning, he was uncuffed. He no longer could tell when one ‘day’ bled into another, as his captor spent different segments of time in the basement, ranging everywhere from four hours, down to ten minutes. He also began to sedate Danny at odd intervals, for no apparent reason other than to create blurry gaps in his memory and keep him from planning. Danny had quieted and his tormentor had taken his complacency as defeat instead of what it really was: endurance. Somewhere along the way, Danny had learned that, in order to survive long enough to escape, he had to be a smart captive. A smart captive meant sacrificing any semblance of pride, playing nice, and waiting. It meant begging when asked to beg, agreeing to anything and everything, and otherwise pretending you didn’t exist, because only bad things happened when you were noticed.

At this point, keeping track of time became pointless. So did the idea of planning an elaborate escape attempt. If he couldn’t predict what his tormentor would do, with any small amount of certainty, he had no constants to plan around. And while he knew he could pick the lock to his room, he also knew that he stood no chance of getting out of the basement anymore. At least, not on his own. The man had sealed that exit thoroughly.

So, Danny waited patiently and remained vigilant for a random stroke of luck.

And then, miraculously, one day an opportunity presented itself in the form of a dead body.

In the dark, Danny squinted and was able to make out a four-sided wooden coffin. The lid was ajar, a dark hand waving out.

Danny pried the lid off and stared down, stunned. Even though he knew before he even opened the lid, it wasn’t any less unnerving to see the dead eyes staring up at him.

Danny swallowed thickly. He reached underneath the corpse’s armpits, hoisting it up. The thing’s head lolled, nuzzling his, giving Danny an intense whiff of rot and an expanse of clammy flesh. Danny turned his head away and gagged. He tried not to think about how this could be him if this prison break didn’t work.

It took forever to drag the body across the basement into his room. It took another forever to wrestle it into his clothing. The body’s arms were rubbery, heavy, and swollen.

Danny panted, dizzy. In his emaciated state this whole endeavor was like a marathon. Adrenaline beat his ears like a war drum and leant him strength he did not possess. With a grunt, he rolled the dead thing onto his bed and covered it with his thin blanket.

He had no idea how long this doppelganger would fool his jailor. If the man entered his room today he would notice, but the man rarely came into his room.

Danny breathed shallowly. He felt more awake now than he had felt in long time. More alive. Clear-headed. Focused. Hope dared to balloon in his chest. This could work.

He tugged on the clone’s clothes. It had been wearing nothing but a white shirt and a pair of overly baggy pants. After yanking the shirt on, Danny searched through the basement and found a surgical knife. He tucked it into the waistline, the cool metal pressing against the small of his back. He found several large bottles of whatever his captor used before he performed surgeries on his other victims— some kind of weird orange-yellow-brown liquid— and he smeared it across his every inch of exposed skin.

Then, with one last glance at the near pitch-black basement, Danny lowered himself into the coffin and readjusted the lid so it was half covering him. He tried to remember how the corpse had been lying. Any missed detail, and he’d fail. His captor wasn’t stupid.

Danny raised his right hand and draped it over the edge of the casket, limp.

He stayed that way for an indefinite amount of time. Hours. Days. He couldn’t tell. His shoulders, the back of his head, his heels, and his tailbone pounded at the hard surface of the box. He lost feeling completely in his upraised arm. His eyes stared blankly ahead, scanning, knowing that three inches from his nose was a wooden lid, although the box was so dark he couldn’t make it out.

His eyes drooped and his adrenaline faded away, yet his body never relaxed. As much as his body screamed for it, he couldn’t allow sleep. Not tonight.

A mechanical door whirred and someone descended into the lab. Heavy, slow, plodding footsteps— Skulker’s.

Danny’s breath caught.

Skulker wasted no time. He lumbered over to the casket where Danny willed himself to steady. The fact that his hand hand gone numb was a blessing. It meant it had no chance of trembling and giving him away.

Danny didn’t dare flinch or breathe. He kept his mouth agape and prayed Skulker wouldn’t look too hard. Skulker wasn’t much for noticing details. Desperate to not think about what was going on right now, Danny tried to remember his mother’s voice, her scent, the feeling of his head tucked underneath her chin as she held him close and safe. Any residual tension flooded out of his limbs.

Skulker grabbed his right hand and flung it back into the box. Danny’s leadened arm flopped lifelessly and hit the wall of the casket with a dull thud that he didn’t feel. Above him, the lid of the coffin was put back in place.

A grating noise, then a series of booms. Danny couldn’t help but flinch as the coffin jolted painfully against his sore body. The back of his skull complained. His eyeballs rattled in their sockets.

Then, he was being moved. How? He wasn’t sure.

Danny dared to open his eyes— seeing nothing but pitch black. Danny couldn’t twist or sit upright. He could barely move his head two inches up before hitting it on the lid. His eyes flitted around the slats to try and see through, but it was impossible.

A slow triumphant smirk spread across his lips. He was maybe the only person ever that was looking forward to being buried alive.

Skulker grunted as he heaved the box somewhere... outside. Freezing cold air whistled through the cracks, easily biting through Danny’s shirt. He fought a shiver and wondered what month it was. The last time he had attempted escape, it had been spring. Surely it hadn’t been more than a few months since then?

Skulker let out a gruff noise and Danny felt weightlessness as the box got tossed. With a jolt of fear, his fingers tried to clamp down to something, but there was nothing to hold onto. The casket hit hard and tumbled. Danny’s head smacked into the side of the box. He blinked blood rapidly out of his left eye. Absently, Danny prayed that Skulker didn’t look back in the box again. The blood would be a dead giveaway. Also, in this light, Danny doubted Skulker would mistake him again.

There was a yip and a rustle. The sound of tinkling chains. Danny only had his imagination to sort out what was going on.

Skulker let out a whistle and at least three dogs answered with howls, before the box jolted and Danny was gliding. He turned his head to the side and ran the back of his hand along the wood grain. Three inches of cedar plank separated him from the sun. Tears welled in his eyes, unbidden. It had felt like ages since he had last seen the sky. And here he was, so close, yet still unable to see it.

Danny forced back the tears. This wasn’t the time to get overly emotional or cocky. He wasn’t out of the woods yet. He pricked his ears, trying to dissect each noise in case it would prove important later, should this escape work. He could hear a constant shhhhhhh of whatever contraption he was on. A chain jingled, taut. There were several dogs. He could hear them panting and snuffling nearby. Far ahead he could hear Skulker plodding along. Branches snapped and leaves rustled. Images of the forest behind the mansion came to mind.

If they were in that forest, they had cut over to a deeper, denser, part. Their progress was slower and Skulker cursed more and more underneath his breath. Danny could hear that the man was fatigued. His footsteps grew slower and heavier.

They came to a halt. The dogs scampered away. Danny heard a door close and the sound of a fire crackling.

Danny closed his eyes again and went limp. He was patient. He could wait. But, Skulker never came back and neither did the dogs. Danny got the feeling that he had been forgotten. He didn’t know how long that would last. His feet and palms began to sweat, itch. This could be the last chance he had before Skulker buried the coffin.

Danny shifted, wiggling until he could get his arms free from where they were pinned up against the sides of the box. He used his knees and his palms to push against the lid.

It wouldn’t budge.

Danny’s heart hammered in his throat. He used the top of his head. He strained and let out a soft noise of frustration. Did Skulker already nail the lid on? Danny hadn’t planned on that. His mind raced, trying to come up with another way out, should that be the case. He had a knife, maybe he could… He shook his head, refocused, and tried again.

This time the lid popped and cracked open.

Danny froze and held his breath, listening intently for any sign that Skulker had heard that. When nothing happened, he pushed the lid all the way off and sat up.

Fresh air ruffled his hair, and filled his lungs, making him dizzy and euphoric. Sunlight warmed his cheeks. Snowflakes fell against his nose and nestled atop his head. Danny heaved a few breaths and looked upwards. Giddiness nearly overcame him as he took in the sky.

Blue. Sun. Fluffy clouds lazily rolling along a dazzling crystalline sky. Peace.

Danny stared around at all the snow, bewildered. Panic simmered. He had missed out on a way larger chunk of time than he originally thought. He had been taken in August. His first escape attempt had been in spring. There was at least two feet of snow blanketing the ground, which meant it was December, if not February. That meant… over a year.

Over a year of lost time.

Danny pushed that thought aside and peered down to find the casket which was resting atop a sled— a sled which sat next to a log cabin. Danny looked directly into a window. Inside, a healthy fireplace, several animal heads mounted to the wall, and Skulker crouched above the fire. He had his back to the window, poking a bit at the embers. The hunter straightened and turned.

Danny let his spine go limp and fell backwards into the casket. His eyes darted about at the sky wildly in fear. He realized it didn’t matter if Skulker saw him or not— he had to get out of this coffin.

Keeping his head ducked, Danny crawled out and fell to the ground. Cold seeped through his shirt and pants, soaking them. Blood stained the snow underneath his head. Danny’s fingers curled desperately into the snow, feeling it crunch against his palm.

He backed away from the sled, sliding along his butt, until his back hit the cabin wall. He edged away from the front door. Keeping his gaze fixated on the window, Danny used his hands to feel his way behind him. His palm hit something warm and wet and he flinched.

An English Setter stared at him, butting its head into Danny’s palm. It’s fur was mangy and a speckled brown. It was large and brutish, with thick corded muscle.

Danny froze.

The dog tilted its head and growled.

“Shh,” Danny breathed. He caught sight of a leather collar with a name tag. “Shh, Cujo.”

Its head the other direction, ears perked in recognition.

“That’s your name, right?” Danny soothed, whispering. “Listen, Cujo. Let’s keep this our little secret, ok?” He got onto his feet, slowly. His height frightened the dog, who skittered back a few paces and yipped, loud.

The cabin door flew open.

Danny ran.

His bare feet ached as he tore his way through the snow. With each stride his leg disappeared several inches. The snow was icy and sharp. Danny didn’t care. His gaze was laser-focused on a thick clump of trees. He had no idea where he was, but he figured that he could find some hiding spots in the thicker parts of the forest.

From behind him, as if through a tunnel, Danny heard a yell. He phased it all out of his mind and kept running. All that mattered was running as fast as he could into that treeline. Even when he reached it, he knew he wasn’t safe, he kept running. Skulker was coming up behind him. Danny could hear the man’s panting.

Danny darted through the branches, hopping over a log. He trained all his focus on not tripping.

Skulker stampeded right behind him. Almost on top of him now.

Adrenaline pounded through his head. He urged his legs to run faster, but they had done nothing for over a year. His muscles quivered with disuse. Out of desperation, he yanked at a branch so it would fling backwards. Behind him, Skulker gave a pained grunt then tackled him from behind with the brute force of an avalanche.

The breath got knocked from his lungs. His face pressed into the snow. It filled his mouth and his nose. He choked. Panic stabbed at him. His hands scrambled for purchase and found a branch. Getting a good grip on it, he whipped it behind him.

Skulker grabbed that arm and twisted it behind his back, forcing him to let go of the bludgeon. Danny’s arm screamed in protest.

“Stop struggling,” Skulker grunted. He pressed his knee into the back of Danny’s head, forcing his face a few more inches into the snow until it completely covered his ears.

Danny screamed, but it was muffled. He twisted and kicked backwards as hard as he could. His bare heel collided with a crunch. Dimly, Danny was aware of pain in his foot.

Skulker howled and tumbled off of him.

Danny crawled a few paces away before getting back on his feet. He swayed.

Skulker got ahold of his neck and slammed him against a tree.

“Hnnr—” Danny choked. Snow rattled off the branches overhead, dumping onto the pair of them. It clung to his hair and eyelashes. He blinked furiously up at Skulker’s leering face.

Skulker’s eyes narrowed. He lifted Danny higher until his bare feet kicked nothing but air and the back of the tree.

Danny gritted his teeth and lashed out, hitting Skulker’s arms, his hands clawing, ripping. His struggles weakened as his vision darkened. Skulker’s tough leather hunting gloves were impossible to scratch through and he was wearing far too many layers. He merely shook Danny by the neck like shaking a rubber chicken.

Danny’s head flopped as the fight got sucked out of him. For a minute he forgot. He allowed himself to give up. “Do it,” he mouthed, lips trembling.

Skulker paused. “What?”

"Do it,” Danny mouthed again.

Skulker’s faced dawned in understanding. He nodded. His grip tightened until Danny felt like his neck would snap in half.

Danny’s eyelashes fluttered. The brilliant blue sky faded into black. His hands fell to his sides, still. He felt an overwhelming calm swoop down over him. It swaddled him in a blanket of peace. Then, something dug into the small of his back. A wiggling thread loosened, a voice screamed that he couldn’t just fall noiselessly into the dark. If he died, Skulker would put him in that box and bury him somewhere no one would ever find him, just like he had done with all the others.

Danny couldn’t swallow that. Couldn’t stomach it. He wouldn’t allow them to get away with it.

Still limp at his sides, his hands suddenly twitched. As if in a dream, he reached behind his back and found the handle of a knife. His fingers could barely grasp it, but he dredged up enough voracity to whip the knife out and bury it deep into Skulker’s shoulder. The knife shifted through muscle and bit into bone.

Skulker dropped him and stumbled backwards with a surprised howl. He no longer looked like he wanted to entertain the idea of putting Danny out of his misery peacefully.

Danny collapsed at the base of the tree, clawing at his throat, gasping for air. Still, Danny refused for this to be the end. He had waited, planned, and been patient. This was the closest he had been to freedom. He couldn’t die and he couldn’t go back. He would not go back into that basement. He was so fucking close, he would fucking murder Skulker if he had to.

Desperation flooded him beyond reason. Danny dug around at the base of the tree, through the snow, for anything he could use. He found a rock.

Skulker grabbed him by the ankle and dragged him backwards, roughly. His back lit with fire. Danny screamed and twisted, smashing the rock as hard as he could into Skulker’s head. The man toppled. Danny struck him again, twice, three times, as hard as he possibly could. Suddenly— silence.

Danny panted. His chest heaved. He dropped the bloodied rock into the snow and stared. With his toe, he poked Skulker’s shoulder. Little crimson bubbles fizzed in the corner of Skulker’s mouth— proof he was still breathing.

Danny tried to stand up and fell. His back screamed. He reached behind and found the handle of the knife protruding from his somewhere to the left of his mid-spine. Without thinking, he ripped it out, shoving his face into the snow to stifle his shout. Pain became nausea. He stared at the knife accusingly, before tucking it back into his waistline.

He tried to stand again. His legs wobbled and his back seized, paralyzing him. The world spun on it’s axis and Danny found himself sprawled on the snow again, puffing little agonized breathes of air.

Walking was out of the question, then.

Danny dragged himself away from Skulker’s unconscious body, away from the cabin. He used the snow as a cushion and pulled his body along. The pace didn’t matter. Any progress was ok.

After what felt like a half hour, Danny peered back and saw the red trail he was leaving behind. He laughed, giddy from blood loss. His feet and hands were completely numb. His teeth chattered and his entire body shivered. Even if he got away from the mansion, it wouldn’t be long before he died from hypothermia or blood loss, or both. His laughing grew hysteric. Over a year in captivity, only to die from snow.

He took a second to lean against a tree and dry heave. Nothing came up. His laughs turned into sobs. He laughed and cried and bled all over the tree until he regained enough steel to find his feet again. Now that he couldn’t really feel most of his body, it was somehow easier.

He wrapped his arms around its trunk to keep upright and pressed his face into its bark. He bit into it. The earthy taste of dirt was beautiful. He inhaled as deeply as he could. Then, he closed his eyes, centered himself, and listened.

Birds chirped merrily overhead.

Trees rustled.

Then, a horn honked.

Danny’s head swiveled towards the noise. With borrowed strength, Danny first walked towards that sound, then ran with an unsteady, limping gait.

A deep bark from a dog echoed from behind him. No doubt one of Skulker’s, which meant it was a purebred hunting dog. Loyal. It had probably seen it’s master and was not happy.

Danny urged his body to go faster, to be stronger— just for a little while.

That bark grew louder. It turned into a prolonged chilling howl.

Danny broke into a huge clearing the size of a football field. He stumbled to a halt, afraid of being exposed while crossing it. He could hear distant highway noise coming from the other side.

The dog barked again, closer.

No choice. Danny bolted across the clearing. The snow was deeper and harder to traverse. Danny ignored his body yelling at him that his organs were in trouble. He tugged at his limbs like they were fighting him and practically threw one foot in front of the other.

Another howl. Too close. It was too close.

Danny looked back and saw Cujo bounding towards him from across the clearing.

Frantically, he fumbled for his knife. His fingers were blue and unresponsive. The knife fell into snow. Danny was forced to take his eyes off the incoming hunting dog to look down. He scrambled, finally getting it in hand, just in time for Cujo to be upon him.

He got the animal directly in the chest, his arm somehow narrowly missing the creature’s fangs.

The dog yipped and retreated, bounding several feet away to evaluate its wound. It whined and licked at its side. Huge brown eyes turned to Danny reproachfully.

“I’m sorry,” Danny whispered. “I had to.”

The dog growled. Its ears flattened and it crouched, preparing to pounce again.

Danny stumbled back heavily. He clutched the knife close, readying himself. From underneath his feet the earth groaned.

The dog galloped away from Danny towards the treeline, back where it had come from. It’s gait grew unsteady. As it neared the edge of the clearing it lumbered around in circles, before collapsing, dead.

Danny took a step towards the road.

A series of cracking and grinding noises reverberated outwards from underneath his feet. His eyes widened, gaze diving for his feet.

Not a clearing, he thought, right before the ground disappeared and he was submerged in freezing black water.

#Danny Phantom #A Snapping Sound #pure horror here #nothing but horror #TL;DR he drowned #my writing #an excerpt I wrote to understand exactly how Danny died #so I could allude to it the whole time #there are some details here that don't quite match anymore #but yeah

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