#there's a middle ground and its ok to live there | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

desireangel · 5 months

Text

Infernal Desires | Chapter 2 | Coriolanus Snow

Summary: as penance for your brother's sins, Coriolanus demands that you are sent to his household to work his debt. But Coriolanus does not expect to burn so strongly for you and finds himself addicted to having you as close as he can keep you.

Chapter 1

young!president snow x fem!reader

Word Count: 3.9k

Warnings: NSFW! Smut! enemies to lovers (??), biting, fingering, unhinged dirty talk I guess, degrading, swearing, talk of ownership, orgasm denial, almost hate fucking, stockholm syndrome maybe?

a/n: ok, i got a little carried away here and I'm sure you can tell because this one seems possibly more disjointed than the last. let me know what you think and if I've missed any warnings!

Days had passed and Coriolanus had been acting as if you didn’t exist. He had ignored your attempts at talking to him, pretended he didn’t hear the constant questions that you asked about what work you were supposed to be doing and why are you here if you aren’t doing any work like you were meant to?

Truth be told, Coriolanus had acted irrationally in making the deal. Jericho may have been someone he loved as a confidant and a friend but truly, he could have simply had him hanged without blinking an eye. Treason is treason and Coriolanus certainly would not stand for it - more so because of the sting of your brother’s betrayal. But here you were, waiting outside of the bedroom he had the staff keep ready for you with a fierceness in your eyes that managed to catch him by surprise.

Without saying a word, Coriolanus stood in front of you and waited for you to speak.

“I was supposed to be given work for our end of the bargain,” You avoided letting your anger seep into your tone. “Instead, you’ve been keeping me in your home and avoiding me like I’m some sort of disease.” Stepping towards him, you shook off the nerves that had your stomach in knots. “I tried to leave yesterday. Your guards–or whoever they are–stopped me from leaving. Said you told them I’m not to exit the grounds.”

Coriolanus was calm. “That’s right. That is exactly what I told them.”

“You said I could visit home.”

A shrug. “I lied.”

“You’d better start telling the truth-”

“Do not,” Coriolanus spat. Somehow, he resented you so much that he couldn’t hold back the worst of himself around you. “speak to me like that. I won’t tolerate disrespect. Not from the likes of you-”

Your hand met his cheek before you realised what was happening. It wasn’t hard and Coriolanus barely flinched more than the turn of his head but your hand burned hot at the mistake that had just been made. Pushing down the fear that bubbled in your gut, you squared your shoulders and spoke firmly. “You will let me serve my brother’s sentence so that I can get the hell out of your house as soon as I’m done. Or is there no honour to your word?”

Coriolanus was red with frustration and you were half aware that angering him would not turn out well. But you were not going to cower and fold to the power that he claimed to have over you. He may be ruler of Panem to its citizens but the two of you had grown up side by side and you knew the man he was past the charade of charm and carefully written speeches. Arrogant, greedy, entitled and selfish.

“You still think that’s really why you’re here?” He looked terrifyingly handsome in his rage. “You should appreciate the generosity I’ve shown you. You’re living in my home, free of charge and free to do as you please with your time so long as you stay within its walls. I hardly see how that is a problem for you.”

“Generosity?” You scoffed. “You’re keeping me prisoner.”

Coriolanus’ expression was blank, his light curls casting shadows of his face as he let out a snarl. The fabric of his meticulously tailored jacket brushed against your hand and before you knew it, he guided you into the bedroom with a strong hand on your back that had you stumbling into the middle of the room.

“Since you’re so ungrateful, I’ll show you what it means to be a prisoner in my home,” Coriolanus said, sticking his hand into the pocket of his dress pants and pulling out a set of two keys, dangling it in front of your nose. “You’re not to leave this room until I say so. Try to leave and I’ll have you whipped.”

And with that, he left you to yourself, slamming the door harshly behind him. The click of the lock was barely drowned out by your protests, palms smacking against the wood of the door.

How dare he?

Tears welled in your eyes but even in your own company, you refused to let them fall. The ache in your chest for the freedom to visit home, to walk the streets of the Capitol and to see your friends was overwhelming. You hadn’t been here long and you knew that the Coriolanus’ home was a luxury far beyond your imagination but the feeling of confinement ate at you.

This was not fair. You had done him no wrong. In fact, his hatred towards you was entirely unwarranted and everything seemed so, so unfair. His problem wasn’t with you - it was with Jericho. So why did Coriolanus have so much rage for you? Even as a teenager, he was cold and detached despite your best efforts to warm him.

If this was to be your prison cell then you were fortunate, you thought. At least he didn’t send you down to the bunkers or to whatever place was made for those who crossed the new President.

The room you had been given upon your first night was unlike anything you had expected. It was red and big and the carpet felt like clouds under your toes - a luxury so simple and so particular that you wondered what kind of wealth could afford such minute pleasures. The wealth of a country, it seemed.

You still think that’s really why you’re here?

If you were being honest with yourself, you knew Jericho and your father had been lying to you. It made no sense - in fact, it was a ridiculous excuse that they had given you. You weren’t stupid - there was no work that you could possibly do to fulfil the extent of Jericho’s debt nor to save your family’s already tarnished reputation.

So why were you here? You had your own doubts. Not only had you spent the last three days with little more to do than think but hours had passed alone in this cage since your confrontation with Coriolanus.

Jericho had said you were only part of whatever bargain he had struck. You figured that Coriolanus had use for Jericho and here you were, a token of control over your family. So long as Coriolanus had you here, Jericho would have to do whatever it was Coriolanus needed him to do.

The sound of the door lock clicking pulled you out of your thoughts. Candice didn’t bother knocking before stepping into your room with her arms full of–dresses?

“Mr. Snow wants me to get you ready,” she said. “You’ll be attending the gala we’re hosting tonight.”

What?

You eyed the dress that Candice laid down on your bed before rushing towards your wardrobe to put away the other dresses she held. From what you could see of the dress, it was unlike any dress you’d ever had the chance to wear. “I’m supposed to wear this?”

The look she gave was answer enough. “Take a bath first. I’ll help you into the dress once you’re out.”

You quickly washed up, half tempted to take your time but Candice was waiting for you and you didn’t intend for her to fall victim to your antics. There was a matching set of underwear laid out with the dress - if you could call it underwear.

Clutching the towel to your chest, you decided against the g-string that accompanied the stick-on bra. Before Candice could turn around, you shrugged on a robe and turned to do your own makeup.

Candice pottered about, seemingly displeased with your insistence on doing your minimal hair and makeup yourself. She helped you step into your dress, adjusting the fabric wherever it needed. “Perfect, ma’am.”

“Please, you don’t need to call me ma’am,” you corrected.

You stared at your reflection in the mirror.

Fuck.

The dress was a perfect fit. It was a deep emerald green satin, floor length gown with a wired corset midsection. The bust was stiff and covered your cleavage just enough so that it could accentuate the swell of your breasts perfectly. Inch thick straps hung just off of your shoulders, leaving your neck and collarbones bare. The back of the dress dipped just above your hips. It made you look and feel sultry in an entirely new way.

This was a powerful dress and you wondered if Coriolanus had intended it to be. Candice fastened a thin, crystal chain around your neck. You asked her the question that had been lingering at the back of your mind, “Why does he want me at the gala?”

“I’m merely the housekeeper,” Candice spoke, her voice stern. She reminded you of a teacher. “I wouldn’t know.”

“Oh,” you murmured.

“I’ll leave you for now. Mr. Snow will escort you downstairs when he’s ready.”

And just like that, you were locked in your room once more.

Coriolanus was making you wait. He knew that your mind would be racing with questions - questions he knew you would assault him with as soon as you had the chance. If he wanted to, he was more than ready to pick you up from your room and show you to the main hall. But there was something so satisfying in knowing the effect he had on you.

He could picture the scowl on your face and the way you’d be wallowing in your impatience.

Forty-minutes had felt like two hours before Coriolanus was standing in your doorway, dressed impeccably in a three piece suit that was tailored to every curve in his body. He was like the embodiment of Adonis, the way he radiated with beauty and temptation.

Coriolanus’ gaze made your breath catch in your throat. It was hot and you swore you could feel it scorching your skin as he studied you from head to toe. “Let’s go.”

“Am I-Am I your date?” You still didn’t understand.

“Of course not,” he answered. “You said you wanted to see your family. Your parents will be here tonight.”

A statement. That’s what you were.

I have your daughter. She’s safe and sound so long as you behave.

It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered if it meant that you’d get to see your parents. A sense of urgency overwhelmed you and you rushed towards Coriolanus. “Let’s go then.”

Goosebumps arose on your skin the second that Coriolanus’ hand brushed against the dip of your back. It was a gentle graze, feather light and barely there but he drew his hand back and took a breath before you could even blink.

“Follow me.”

Coriolanus had left your side before entering. The main hall was packed with people, many of whom you recognised from your days studying or as past friends of the family. They all looked at you scornfully and you knew that they were all thinking of you as a traitor to the Capitol. You weren’t but you had the same blood as one.

The music was pleasant and some people danced while others were busy drinking and conversing. You searched the crowd for your parents, hoping that you didn’t look as crazed as you felt. There were so many eyes on you, so much judgment that it made you suck in a breath and keep your eyes anywhere but on the guests.

Your mother was toward the entrance, a champagne flute held delicately between her fingers as she talked with your father.

It was a miracle they had been invited after everything but you knew that they were only here because Coriolanus had a message for them. A message that was loud and clear just through your attendance. A message that told them that you were sitting comfortably in the palm of his hand, that he could use your entire family for whatever he pleased.

“Ma,” you reached for her, willing yourself not to cry in a room filled with people. She gasped, arms wrapping around your shoulders as she mumbled incoherently. “Are you okay? And Jericho?”

“We’re all fine,” she smiled sweetly. “How is it? Over here? Are they treating you badly-”

“Ears everywhere, my dear. I see that Snow has been generous.”

Generous. That word was like a parasite, stuck to you and making you sick to your stomach.

“Yes. I’ve been–I’ve been okay.”

You stayed with them for the entirety of the night, slowly making your way through one glass of champagne and a couple plates of the food that was set out for the guests.

Slipping your glass onto a tray that one of the Avox were carrying, you smiled at Livia Cardew who barely spared a glance at you from where she stood. She was talking to Coriolanus and another man whom you could not name, a hand on his arm as she gazed at him through her eyelashes.

You glanced towards the corridor. Coriolanus seemed distracted enough by the conversation. Maybe you could blend in with the guests, make your way out as part of a group and nobody would be any the wiser.

A few steps at a time, you made your way towards the exit. Every now and then someone would try and make idle conversation, seeing you alone and extending a greeting. But it would only last a few minutes.

By the time you were at the exit, Coriolanus was nowhere to be seen. Fine, as long as he was far away from you. The front door was grand and there were groups of people saying their goodbyes. It was the perfect getaway opportunity.

You could disguise yourself within the guests, make your way a block down where your parents would drive past and leave with them. It would work and you’d be out. You could see Jericho, your friends and then you could disappear somehow. Jericho would help you if you explained things to him–if you asked him.

The thought that you were making a mistake began to cross your mind but just as you were at the foot of the door, an arm wrapped itself around your waist roughly, fingers digging into your hip as you were pulled away. Coriolanus smiled at the people who turned to look at you, their eyes trailing to where his hand burned its mark into your side.

You could hear your blood rushing and heart racing, your palms growing clammy. You considered struggling, maybe putting up a fight. But it would be useless. Coriolanus was strong and how far would you even get before someone else caught up to you? Your plan was a desperate, confused mess.

Of all the things happening in that moment, your mind was clouded by Corolanius’ cologne and the roughness with which he held you. The tick in his jaw and the slight purse of his lips gave away the anger he was suppressing as he dragged you through the crowd, opening the closest door he could find and pulling you in with him.

Shit.

Coriolanus pulled you so that you were facing him, holding your arms firmly in his hands. He all but growled, “Didn’t I tell you not to run away, little mouse?”

Your cheeks burned and your chest felt as if it were about to explode. Corolanius had brought you into a closet which was the size of a small bedroom but you were flush against him, chest to chest and eye to eye.

“What? Are you going to have me whipped for it?” Taunting him was not a good idea but it came so naturally that you barely realised what you were doing.

Coriolanus pushed you into a shelf, pressed against the surface and your back flush against his chest. “I don’t like disobedience. My things are to stay where I leave them.”

You struggled against him. But it was for nothing. You barely stood a chance against the man who held you, his breath tickling your ear as you spoke. “I’m not something you own, Coriolanus. I don’t have to listen to you.”

“Oh but you do,” his knee lodged between your thighs, holding you down. “Where were you going to go, hmm? There’s not a single place in Panem where I couldn’t hunt you down myself and you’d be back here within a week.” Coriolanus could feel your rapid breathing, feel the way you squirmed against him but moulded so perfectly into his body. “Maybe I should have let you go. I do enjoy a chase.”

There was a seductive venom that coated his tongue. It was so unlike the Coriolanus Snow you had known all those years ago who may have been riddled with arrogance and dishonesty but he was never wicked.

“What did I ever do to you, Coriolanus?” You gasped as he pressed himself further into you in an attempt to put an end to your struggling. Tears threatened to well in your eyes. “Why are you doing this to me?”

Coriolanus stilled. He thought of the words to say, the words to describe the way that four years ago, he would have despised himself for making you cry. As far as you were concerned, all he was to you was Jericho’s friend. Jericho’s friend who never had the perfect home that you had, never had the wealth that he deserved, never had what he desired the most.

He never had you.

And Coriolanus hated you for it.

“You were so blind,” he said. “So unaware. So selfish. All I had ever wanted from you was your devotion and all you gave me was resentment.”

Whether it was the gravity of his confession, or the way his body felt against yours, it took your breath away. What he was saying didn’t make sense. “I didn’t know. You were so cruel to me, Coriolanus.”

Your chest was heavy with so many conflicting emotions. Fear, shock, anger and desire.

“You want to know why I’m doing this to you?” Coriolanus brought his lips so close to your ear that they brushed against your skin and sent a shudder through your body. “Because I hate your brother for what he did. Because I hate your family. Because I hate you.”

His hands, his hands.

They were everywhere, dragging all over your body and leaving a trail of fire on your skin. He slid his fingertips down the sides of your dress, bunching it up at your hips. You couldn’t breath, couldn’t think of the words to say as the ache between your legs grew for him. It wasn’t right - Coriolanus was all but kind to you but your body yearned for him.

He bit your ear. “I hate you but I fucking burn for you.”

Another gasp and you arched into him. Coriolanus’ words burrowed deep into your core and made your head spin with unfettered lust. After everything, you would have given him everything right then and there. The desire you had for each other was infernal, it was wrong and it was perfect.

The air was thick and Coriolanus thought he’d choke on the passion that was heavy in his chest. Your skin was soft like the satin of the dress he had picked out for you and it drove him crazy to think about all the ways he could indulge himself in your flawless body.

“So tempting all the damn time,” he touched you with so much determination you wanted to let yourself melt into him, to become one with his heart and body. “Would you let me fuck you like this, missy? How I should have done years ago and make your body mine?”

You let out a wanton moan as his lips found your neck, sucking roughly along the ridges of your skin. “I don’t know-”

“Of course you don’t.” Coriolanus let his hand slip to the inside of your thigh, roughly digging his nails into your flesh and dragging them up to the most intimate part of your body that was bare under his touch. He sucked in a sharp breath at your lack of underwear and placed his hand flat against your sensitive flesh. “I’m sure you would. Look at how responsive you are to my touch, such a needy little thing.”

The feeling of his hand against your sex and his body pressed against yours sent shockwaves through your body, right down to the tips of your toes. With heavy breaths you reached for his arm, desperately scratching his skin because you needed more, more, more.

You were blind with need for Coriolanus’ body, for him to make good on his words and show you all the filthy things you knew he’d have perfected. The little voice at the back of your head told you to slow down, to think and that you’d regret this tomorrow morning but you were far too weak to listen to it.

“Just this once,” you were breathless as you spoke, chest heaving against the hard surface of the shelf.

Coriolanus tensed against you in surprise, his hips pressing against the swell of your bum. He was hard, so hard for you. “If I’m going to have you missy, it’ll be in my bed. Where I can take you in every way I’ve spent hours dreaming about.”

Against your better judgment, you drawled, “Thought you hate me-”

“I do hate you,” Coriolanus growled, swiping the pad of his forefinger over your clit in one swift movement that had you writhing in an instant. “Doesn’t mean I don’t want to fuck you.”

You were so wet for him, so prepared for him to push his cock into you right then and it made him throb under the restriction of his dress pants. But Coriolanus was a man of great self control and he refused to give in so soon.

He sunk his teeth into your shoulder, the pads of his fingers rubbing circles over your clit, sending wave after wave of pleasure through your body. Your hips rutted against his hands, incoherent words tumbling from your lips.

Coriolanus was usually a selfish lover. He didn’t take pleasure in someone else’s pleasure. But the way you trembled against him, the way that every inch of you called for his touch and the way you sounded so desperate and so filthy for him satisfied him in an entirely new way. It made his cock twitch and set a fire in his blood.

“Please, Corio–I’m so close,” you whined. He chuckled darkly before pulling his hand away from you.

There were people looking for him, Coriolanus could hear them through the door. He couldn’t care less. “That’s enough for now. Seems like they’re looking for me.”

You turned yourself around, still squashed between Coriolanus and the shelf, just to gape at him. A smug smile graced his face, his pupils blown out with lust that you could feel pressed against your thigh. You resisted the urge to smack him again.

“You can’t be serious.”

Coriolanus stepped away from you, taking a moment to look at the mess he had made of you while slipping his fingers between his lips. Your dress was caught at your hip and hitched up at your thigh, your hair was tangled and your knees wobbled gently. But your eyes, wide and full of innocent, unburdened desire for him had him questioning his decision to stop.

How he longed to corrupt you.

“Collect yourself. I’ll send Candice to get you to your room,” he was at the door by now, fixing his tie as his fervent gaze was focused on you. “If you ever try to leave again, I will not be so lenient.”

With that, he was gone and you were once again left alone with a mind full of wild, distressed thoughts.

tags: @deadly-femme-bimbo @justaproudslytherpuff @10ava01 @edb954 @real-lana-del-rey @demyackerman @whatupitshuff @foreludes @motley-baby @unclecrunkle @cillianmurphysbxtch

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow x you #tom blyth #tbosas #coriolanus x you #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #📝#🥀

630 notes · View notes

fairuzfan · 5 months

Note

If you can't see the difference between a diaspora Jew who has seen the violence inflicted on their community throughout history and the world for their entire existence since childhood and genuinely believes they will never be safe until they have somewhere to go that is made up of mostly Jews (and thinks that place might as well be 'where they came from'), and a Christian who wants all the Jews and Muslims back where they belong so that Jesus will come back or just so that 'their country' won't have Jews or Muslims anymore, and you believe those two people deserve the same scorn and violence, and that their Zionism is virtually indistinguishable, you're not a good person. I'm sorry you're just not.

My relatives aren't evil for thinking Israel should exist, they're just scared because they know what an angry, hateful world has done and can/will do to scattered Jews. They want to believe that there is a place in the world that is safe for Jews to live. (Whether Israel actually is that is beside the point- it isn't but that's beside the point).

And I'm a Bundist (not explaining it look it up idc) but with how things have been lately (and always really) I can't say I don't see the appeal.

Obviously Israel's government in general and the Likud party in particular is steeped in genocidal intent and abhorrent racism. Obviously the discrimination, colonization and brutalization of Palestinians should end. Obviously Israel should no longer be what it is- a militaristic puppet state by which the US keeps its hands in the middle east/swana region.

But don't you dare say that the Hobby Lobby CEO and my sister have the exact same Zionism or reasons for it.

I only say any of this bc you reblogged a post essentially saying all Zionism is the same and deserves the same treatment and seeing as diaspora Jews are neither the biggest material nor political backing force behind Israel, and also our fears are completely founded, I can't let you express that belief without at least making an effort to correct it.

(Also my sister technically just believes that Jews should be able to safely visit or live in the Levant, which we're indigenous to- and if you don't believe that where tf do you think we came from bc we didn't just grow out of the ground in NYC one day holding bagels I'll tell you that but I digress- but doesn't like the Israeli gov or its actions. So that may not even be Zionism according to you but that's what she calls it.)

Ok. Right now journalists are live blogging the massacre of my people and no one is lifting a finger and in fact sending them bigger and badder weapons. You're very heartless. I don't care if you don't think I'm a good person but I'm sad that you're not one either.

#i genuinely am sad that you are so selfish.

391 notes · View notes

jungle-angel · 4 months

Text

Morning Makeouts (Bob Floyd x Reader)

Summary: The Bob Floyd Fuckfest Saga continues (lol)

Tagging: @floydsmuse @attapullman @sylviebell

Warnings: SMUT!!!! No minors allowed.......like ever (lol)

You and Bob were immensely enjoying your little vacation as always, taking every opportunity to enjoy it at its fullest as well as each other's company. Never in your lives had you and Bob felt so close as you did on that little island paradise in the Florida Keys. Of course you missed being at your home in Montana, but you had desperately needed a break from the mundane, every day goings on.

"Alright, look at me," Bob instructed, adjusting his camera. "There we go sweetheart, PERFECT!"

There you were, right in the ferns in the backyard of the beach cottage where no one stood a chance of seeing you, butt naked with Jimmy, your blue and yellow parrot perched on your wrist. He flapped his wings, just as Bob had begun snapping one photo after another, capturing the perfect image for your new photo album.

"Thank you my sweetpea," Bob said, taking you right in his arms and kissing you.

"Anything for you Bob," you answered, kissing him back. "Truth be told, that was actually alot of fun."

You and Bob were both a giggling mess as you kissed each other, unaware of how far you were stepping back until you both tumbled into the soft little sand pit in the middle of the bushes.

"Sorry baby," he apologized.

"Nope, you're ok Bob," you laughed as he looked down at you.

You could see his eyes darkening as he leaned his head down and kissed you sweetly, drawing a moan from your throat. It wasn't long before you felt his weight on top of you, the kissing growing more heated as something fell from the tree branch and hit the ground with a *THUMP!*.

"No worries (y/n), just a mango," Bob chuckled.

You laughed, but the look in Bob's eyes told you he was up to something, especially when he bit into the mango. "Bob what are you doing?" you laughed.

"Shhhh, just let me for a second?" he whispered.

You felt the cool, sticky juice dripping onto your sternum and down your exposed breasts. Before long you felt Bob dragging his tongue all over your curves and down to your navel where he licked up the mango juice, leaving little love bits and kisses in its wake. The pleasurable moans that came from you were what kept him at it, working his tongue like an artist's brush, swirling around your nipples and up to the soft spots on your neck.

"Mmmm......my turn," you purred.

Bob's eyes went wide but he gladly obliged as you helped remove his shirt and his jeans. You couldn't get over how perfect he looked in the early morning sunlight, his pale skin made soft in the glow of the sun. His boxers were the only thing left that had imprisoned his throbbing hard-on, coming off and being tossed aside with the rest of his clothes. You had almost forgotten how big your husband actually was until you saw his cock standing hard and ready.

"There we go sweetpea," he cooed. "Just.....just a little bit.....oh....there we go......there.....oh honey look at you, taking me so well......that's it, there's a good girl......right there now......good girl."

You moaned happily as his cock gently eased its way into your aching entrance, one little inch at a time. Soon you were sitting pretty right on him, your hips adjusting to his length.

You watched with pleasure as Bob's features took on a scrunkly, laughing look as the mango juice dripped onto his chest. You gladly returned the favor he had given before, licking up the juice as Bob pushed his chest a little closer to your face. Your tongue swirled around his nipples until they became hard, pointed little peaks, kissing the undersides of his tits.

You both came at the same time, Bob thrusting his length as deep in as he could possibly go. You lay skin to skin with each other on that warm patch of sand, gently feeling each other's bodies beneath the warm Florida sunshine.

"Think we should go for a sea bath later?" Bob asked.

"If it gets the ungodly amount of mango juice off of us, then I say yes," you laughed.

Bob kissed you sweetly, holding you against him. It was mornings like this that he lived for most, when it was just the two of you.

#top gun maverick #robert bob floyd #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd smut #international bob floyd fucks month

153 notes · View notes

placeinthemiddleofnowhere · 5 months

Note

Does pup ever have panic attacks? Has Ghost ever found them in the middle of one? If so, how does he react or help?

-🐛 anon

Y'all deserve a short, so here you go 💕

Red.

Your eyes couldn't shift from the frayed red lines of the scratches left on Ghost's arm. He'd been passing by the door just as you'd left the bathroom, but as usual he moved so quietly he'd startled you. You'd reacted before you could think to calm yourself, grabbing him and digging your claw like nails in while preparing to grab his neck with your other hand - however you hadn't followed through once you realised that it was just him.

"Pup," Ghost said calmly, speaking through his teeth to combat the stinging pain.

You finally looked up and met his eyes, whimpering as you wrung your hands together like sodden cloths. You couldn't believe you'd hurt him. For once you weren't merely concerned with what manner of punishment you'd be recieving for your transgression, you were already punishing yourself, tears rolling hotly down your cheeks. Ghost never ever hurt or punished you, he always gave you so much praise and encouragment, and now you'd turned around and bitten the hand that had so generously fed.

No words could come to you. You breathed low, feeling like you were scraping out what little oxygen you could from your belly, and felt your eyes expand all the while. The air around you turned to lead.

"Pup, it's ok. You just got a fright, didn't you?" Ghost murmured. "Hold on, just let me deal with this..."

You didn't need to be told to hold on. Every single little cell in your body had ground to a halt, infected with cold dread as you replayed the scratch over and over and over again in your mind. A slight tremble built like an earthquake, the chill stroking its way up your spine until it manifested into aching shivers.

"C'mon now, it's alright. Easy, Pup...Easy."

You barely realised Ghost had come back. He held his hands up placatingly and tried to approach you as slow as he could, taking the smallest steps, likely trying to avoid being scratched again you thought. Your ears twitched when he got closer, but still you were stuck in place. You were a deer facing down a shadow in the forest, twitching and breathing like those might be your last movements.

"That's it, easy. Easy now," Ghost soothes, finally reaching you.

You release a breath you didn't know you were holding when he wraps his arms around you. Your eyes close and you sob, its like a wailing spectre has been unleashed from its tomb. You scream out and wrap yourself around him, losing your surroundings as you register that not only have you not been reprimanded for that terrible show of violence, but Ghost still wants to care for you. Of course he does.

"It's alright," Ghost whispers, sluggishly marching you through to the living room. "Shh...shh now. No tears. You're safe with me - i know you didn't mean it. There's no punishment. Shhh."

Before you knew it you were sprawled on the couch, head buried in thick muscle and spiced citrus. He petted your head and murmured sweet comoforts, shushing you and letting the worst of the storm pass before he pulled your head from his chest and made you face him.

Tears continued to flow, but they rolled down your cheeks slower now. His bright eyes captured yours and forced you to keep your head up, frowning when your lip trembeled.

"You're ok, darlin'. What're you cryin' so hard for, huh?"

You ripped your gaze from him and to the hand that was stroking your cheek, purposefully looking at the messily applied bandage. Staring at the flecks of red. You did that. It was all your fault. Dangerous. Bad.

Ghost chuckled faintly and dismissed another tear, smoothing his thumb over your face again. The trail it left burned fiery on your flesh.

"You're not bad and you're not a danger to me," Ghost tutted. "You made a mistake, silly Pup. C'mere."

He pulled you to him again and rubbed smooth circles in your back, a healing spell that stopped the last of your wracking breaths. His warmth bled into you and soon enough calm reset the blaring alarms in your head and turned out all the bad thoughts. You sighed out in relief and hiccupped softly, registering your wet eyelashes sloppily flicking against your irritated skin.

"Don't...w-want to hurt you," you whined.

"I know. You're my good Pup," he said simply.

"But I did," you said, biting your lip when you caught sight of the bandage again.

Ghost sighed and turned your head away from it, playfully running his hands through your hair and ears.

"Tis' but a scratch," he said in a silly voice, eyes crinkling when you let out a gentle laugh. "You ever seen that movie?"

"Movie?" you questioned, tilting your head.

Ghost snorted and shook his head.

"Holy Grail - One of Soap's favourites," he said, holding his smile. "C'mon, we'll put it on. He'll be your best friend if you do those stupid quotes with 'im."

#reign down on me

254 notes · View notes

theywantedplayer · 1 year

Note

“ it’s midnight where the hell were you?” With jamie please?

When Jamie woke up he reached over to the other-side of the bed to pull you close but when he felt nothing he groaned, just assuming you got up to use the bathroom but when he waited and you didn't come back he sat up in bed.

“Y/n?” He called out but he was met with no response

He got out of bed and went to the bathroom, he swung open the door, the bathroom was empty. His mind started to race but Jamie was trying to be Rational so he went to check the kitchen but once again it was empty.

He realized you were gone

Now he was really starting to panic. He ran back to the bedroom and grabbed his phone. The time read 12:09. Where the fuck would you go at midnight alone even. He tried to call you as he frantically searched the apartment, even the closet . Why would you be in the closet? He doesn't know but he was desperate.

“Hey you’ve reached Y/N im unable to get to the phone right now so just leave a message at the beep”

Fuck Jamie kept trying and trying as he ran into Trevors room shaking him awake

“Trev get up!” He yelled

“Aww Did Jambo have a bad dream” Trevor joked still 50% asleep “Let me kiss you better” as he reached for his cheeks

“Trevor I cant find Y/N” Jamie Frantically yelled

“What?” Trevor respond slowly starting to wake up

“Y/N IS MISSING!” Jamie's voice was surely loud enough to get it threw trevors thick head

Trevor Started to understand the gravity of the situation as he saw Jamie burst out of his room And back into the kitchen and Trevor quickly followed

“What do you mean she's missing?” Trevor asked

“She wasn't here when I woke up and she's gone” Jamie was running his hands threw his hair and pacing around the Apartment living room

“Did you guys get into a fight?” Trevor asked

‘NO no we didn't………FUCK I just keep getting her voice mail” jamie was full on panicking at this point

“Dude take a deep breath, panicking isn't going to help anyone ok?” Trevor tried to help but it was no use

“How can I take a deep breath right now Trevor because right now It looks like Y/N left me”

‘Dude she didn't leave you” trevor put a on Jamie's shoulder trying to ground him “Let's go down to Parking garage and see if her car is still here ok”

“Ok” jamie responded

Before they could even move the Apartment door opened, the two boys made eye-contact with you

“What are you guys doing up” you asked “it's like midnight” you placed a bag on the Island counter

“What are we doing up Its midnight where the hell were you” Jamie Shouted

You jumped a little at Jamie's voice and tone. You didn't know what was wrong.

“What happen you asked” you Assumed something happened because Trevor and Jamie were both up in the middle of the night looking frantic

“What happened?” Jamie yelled again “what happened was I woke up to an empty bed and you were gone, you left in the middle of the damn night! Do you know how worried I was”

“How worried we were” Trevor Corrected “Where did you even go?”

“I went to the gas station and picked up some advil because we ran out and I had a bad headache” You whispered pulling it out of the bag

“You could have woken me up I would have gone with you” Jamie Sighed

“You had a Tiring day I thought you needed rest” You tried to explain

“Then wake Trevor up next time” Jamie Suggested

“I totally be down to go with you next time” Trevor said as he patted Jamie on the back realizing he wasn’t needed in this conversation and said “i'm going to go back to bed if that's okay with you guys”

“Yea sure Goodnight man” Jamie waved off

“ Goodnight trev ” You said

Leaving just you and Jamie he walked over to you

“I know i know I'm sorry I should have told you” You said fiddling with your fingers

“ do you have any idea how worried I was” he said pulling you into a hug by the waist “ I thought you left me”

“Aww Jamie I would never leave you” You comforted placing our hands on his cheeks

“Why didn't you pick up your phone I called you like a million times” he asked

“At 9pm it going on silent” you answered

“As of today you turn that off” He told you

“OK again i'm sorry I feel really bad” you said looking up at him

“You can make it up by Sleeping in with me tomorrow” he laughed as you walked back to your shared bedroom

“Punishment fits the crime Drysdale”

All night Jamie didn't let go of you once

#jamie drysdale x reader #jamie drysdale imagine #jamie drysdale #nhl blurb #nhl fanfiction #nhl x reader #nhl angst

650 notes · View notes

daenystheedreamer · 1 month

Note

ok I know we've all talked about it I know but that gif removing the piss filter just reminded me how much I wish the people making asoiaf related media weren't ashamed of it. They do all this weird stuff to mute the colors mute the outfits mute the dialogue because they don't want it to be too weird or whatever. asoiaf is very serious it's extremely serious ok but it is also so vibrant and beautiful and there is an archaic way of speaking a lot of the time and that's part of what makes it such a good world. stop trying to put everyone in black in a scene that is filmed in the middle of night where the goal with dialogue is to see how many times you can say shit!

exactly it's my top 5 biggest criticisms. when GOT was airing, one of the most common praises was that it was 'grounded' and that even though it was fantasy etcetc it was still grounded. and to me that's just nonsense. why must everything be relatable to a modern audience? why cant the world be alien to us? why can't it be fantastical? yes its a little funny (the helms...) but its also just worldbuilding. a lot of it is also commentary. look at all these ridiculously dressed incest freaks in their huge elaborate castles juxtaposed against the fact theyre playing with the lives of peasants.

also why i hate the whole grimdark label. i do think the show can be labelled as grimdark, but not the books. the show, by association, has forced that label onto the books. ASOIAF is a series full of hope and love and light and yeah some silly bullshit but thats what makes it a lived in world with a coherent message. god. scream. death to hbo death to d&d

#ask #Anonymous #asoiaf #game of thrones

66 notes · View notes

breath0ftheglacian · 5 months

Text

Discipline

Yeah I'm just gonna get this out of my system. Long live Rufus Shinra. Remember this is pure filth and NSFW. All chapters: Lesson 1 Lesson 2 Lesson 3

Lesson 2

You stand in the middle of the room, Rufus Shinra positioned across, behind his mahogany desk, gently resting his chin on his arm. "You came." You shrug. "You called."

It's been some weeks, maybe three, since your previous and only encounter with the vice president. Yet not a day has passed where it hasn't been on your mind, like a permanent stain that you can't get rid of no matter how much you scrub. His hand marks all over your body, his voice telling you dirty things.

You only got the word last night. A call from Tseng of the Turks, out of the blue, with very brief instructions. The VP wants to see you tomorrow. Wear something nice.

Despite his polite manner, there is something crooked, something unnatural in how he sees you in and out of the VP's office. He walks just a few steps in front of you, leading you to his boss. Yet you did as you were told. You chose a set of lingerie just for him. The stockings, your favourite dress. Like some high class prostitute, you couldn't help thinking, and as the door shut behind you with that familiar click, you felt a quiet rebellion rising within you. Why should it only be on your terms?

A small grunt emerges from the corner of the room, and you see a large black creature adjusting itself as it lays its head on its muscular paws, mirroring its owner. An undeniably powerful looking dog. Or is it a cat? You can't quite tell.

"Darkstar." Rufus introduces his companion, and the creature slightly lifts its gaze. "She's a darling, really."

"I'm sure."

Your eyes drift back to Rufus, and land on the single object he's placed in the middle of his otherwise cleared desk. A collar, not dissimilar to the one the creature is wearing. Black leather, silver chain.

"And this, is it for me?" you ask, nodding at the collar. "It's for a pet."

Your eyes lock. A thought flashes through your mind, a brave impulse. You could...

It seems he read your mind, as you stumble forward and reach for the collar at the same time. He traps your hand under his. Thinking quick, you manage to snatch the chain and swiftly pull the item for yourself.

"I win."

Rufus stares you down. You're not sure what this means, but you're holding the symbol of dominance in your hands. He doesn't speak. You hold his gaze, unwavering. You've decided to stand your ground.

Finally, he lets out a little "hmph," and with a little rub of his lip, proceeds to take off his suit jacket, carefully placing it on the back of his chair. You watch him, still unsure of what's to follow. Then, opening the cuffs of his shirt, he rolls the black sleeves up to his elbows. He opens the top two buttons of his shirt, pushing the fabric away from his neck, and looks at you as if to ask, what are you going to do?

You take a deep breath and straighten your back. "Get on your knees," you demand.

He moves closer, and you're sure you're about to be punished. This time though, you're not scared to look him in the eye, like a beast challenging an intruder, expressing dominance. To your surprise, he stops in front of you and drops to his knees. "I knew you were going to be fun."

"Hah," you manage to respond, shocked at what's actually happening. He looks up at the collar in your hands, then you. You take the collar to his neck and he lets you put it on, waiting patiently for you to finish as you try to be as gentle as you can. Once you've buckled the collar, you pull the chain tight and lean against the desk, pulling him closer to you.

The black creature rouses in the corner of the room and lets out a low but distinct growl - a warning.

"D, it's ok," Rufus lifts his hand and with that, the beast is tamed, laying its head down again. Suddenly it hits you. You're in control. He's submitting. Something wild takes over you. You slap him on the cheek.

"Did I give you permission to talk?"

His eyes widen in disbelief as he processes what you've just done. Then, a deep breath.

"Harder." "Excuse me?" You can't believe what you're hearing. "You have to do it har--" He's interrupted by another slap from you, this time harder, as per his request. "Is that better?"

You slap him again, even harder. Your hand stings. His cheek is red, his breathing growing heavy. He looks up and gives you a little nod. You run your hand through his hair and he keeps his blue eyes on you, waiting for your command.

"You told me to wear something nice," you say softly, bringing your hand to caress his cheek where you landed your blow. "I picked this out for you."

You slowly roll up the hem of your dress, revealing the rim of the stockings, the suspenders, the laced underwear. He watches you as you bring the dress to your waist.

"Do you like it?" He nods gently, looking up at you again. "Why don't you show me how much you like it," you say with a playful tinge, giving the chain a little tug.

He moves closer to you and lifts his hands to the outside of your thighs. Looking up, he checks if you're ok with this.

"Yeah," you whisper.

He brings his face to your hips and takes a deep breath. You run your hand through his hair again, as he rubs his nose against your underwear, breathing you in, slowly, intently. A soft sigh escapes your lips. He presses a kiss on the flowery embroidered underwear as his hands move to grab your ass, squeezing you firmly. Another sigh. You're both breathing in time, heavy, hungry.

His finger traces along the rim of your panties, then moves them aside to make way to his lips, pressing kisses around, everywhere, moving dangerously close to your most sensitive area. He looks up at you, and with a little smug smile, closes his eyes as he lets his tongue slide in between your legs, lapping up, up, up towards your clitoris.

You instantly let out a moan. You know the rules - he wants to hear it, and you want to give him the reward. He's making you hot, wet, way too aroused way too quickly. He grabs your ass harder and you start to move your hips in time with his tongue. You feel your whole body tense, the hair stand up in your neck, your nipples harden, your fingers grabbing his hair. This could come to and end very soon, but it would be too soon, too hasty.

"Wait," you whimper. "Stop."

He doesn't.

"Stop," you demand, louder, as he tries to slide his tongue inside you. It takes every ounce of self control for you not to cum right then. Grabbing his head with both hands, you push his face away as he pauses to catch his breath, his lips glistening from your juices. You stare at him, painful, throbbing pulsating between your legs.

"Bad, bad pet," you pant. He licks his lips, waiting for your next command. You survey around the room. "The chair," you decide. "Sit in your chair."

He does as he's told and you instantly climb over him, starting to undo his pants. His hands join in to help you. Together you manage to fumble the buttons open and pull down his underwear, revealing his cock, already fully hard. You wrap your fingers around the shaft, and this time it's him that lets out a slow moan. You can't help but smile, feeling up his size, gliding your hand up and down as he looks at you, eyes burning with need.

Lifting your hips, you position yourself on top, bringing his tip to gently touch your moist opening, leaning over to place a kiss on his temple.

"Since you were so bad," you whisper, slowly sliding down, taking all of him inside you, "I will have my fun, and cum all over you. And you will watch, and hold yourself together. Understood?"

You turn your gaze to meet his, and he nods again in agreement, giving you a little smirk. Is this what he wanted all along? You don't care. You're drunk on your power, intoxicated by calling the shots. You start to grind yourself against him, his cock pushing against your walls. Not quite the spot, almost, you readjust yourself. And there it is. His shaft is pushing against that spot inside you, the waves of pleasure start coming, first slowly, then more consuming, and you lose yourself in the rhythm. He watches you in awe, letting out little gasps, doing his best not to get too lost in your slow dance.

You pull on the chain and crash your lips against his as you feel yourself get tight around him, so tight it almost hurts to move, but you have to, you're compelled by the pleasure. You moan loudly into his mouth as you allow yourself to finally experience the full orgasm, sending little jolts across your body, leaving you dizzy with delight. One more little twitch, then, stillness.

As you come down from the high, you shift your hips and feel him inside you. Still hard, waiting patiently. You let out a little laugh and he chuckles with you.

"Wow," he whispers. "What would my pet like now?" you ask.

He pauses to think for a moment. "I want to fuck you until you cum again."

You find yourself on all fours in front of his desk, spreading your knees on his fancy rug. He enters you from behind, with a powerful thrust, and you cry out again, fulfilling your side of the agreement. He fucks, you scream. He doesn't waste time being gentle, and you drop your upper body to the floor, pushing your ass agains his cock as he pounds you, harder, faster. He grabs your hair and leans in closer, reclaiming his position as the master.

"I love being your pet," he speaks in a low voice, sending electricity up your spine, "I love it even more when you think you can get away with it." He drives his cock into you, commanding, sweat dripping everywhere. Your skins stick together, sticky, sweaty, soaked. It's rough, animalistic, utterly vulgar, and still, somehow, it's not enough.

"I can't," you cry out from sheer exhaustion. You're so close, so desperate to get another release, yet somehow it's eluding you. "You can." He reaches his hand down, fingers finding your clit, and starts to work at the same pace he's pushing inside you. It's enough. "Can I cum?" you whine as you already start to, clear liquid gushing from your entrance and dripping all over your legs, his legs, the rug. It's the first time you've ever experienced anything like this. "Oh you dirty girl," he sighs, and with a few last forceful thrusts, joins you in the elation, releasing his seed inside you, his juices mixing with yours.

You collapse on the rug and he follows you all the way down, burying his face in your hair as he rides the final waves of his orgasm.

It's a few minutes before you finally have the energy to roll around onto your back. Rufus sits up on the rug next to you, looking down at the chain that hangs from the collar, still around his neck. You wrap your index finger around the chain and play with it as you look at each other, neither of you finding the words to say, or perhaps not needing to. Suddenly you remember something, and let out a giggle.

"Is he waiting? Behind the door?" "Tseng?" "Mhm." "Why? Would you like me to invite him to join us?" You laugh out loud, but Rufus just smiles at you. "I don't know... maybe that would be exciting." "I'll ask him." You laugh again, pushing yourself up to sitting, while Rufus finally decides to free himself from the collar. "Are you hungry?" he asks, pulling up his pants and tucking his shirt in. "I know a place just two blocks from here. We can take D for a walk, too." The beast snores quietly in the corner, relaxed and fast asleep, seemingly completely undisturbed by your carnal games.

#rufus shinra x reader #rufus shinra #ffvii x reader #x reader #tseng of the turks

141 notes · View notes

equallyshaw · 6 months

Text

not about angels | mat barzal

word count: 3.0k

warnings: talks of cancer and death.

It would be lovely if the format didn’t change after every save omg

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

We know full well there's just time So is it wrong to dance this line? If your heart was full of love Could you give it up?

◦

we only have so long in this life, until our journey is meant to end. only so much time to spend with loved ones and create memories that can last a lifetime. only so much time until things can change, much to our dismay.

when mat got the call, it was as if the whole world stopped. he was in the process of getting ready for a home game and maggie was incessant in trying to get ahold of him. well, her mom was.

"hey, im in the middle of-" and mat was cut off by sobbing - scratch that, screeching. his heart fell to his stomach, as maggie's mom explained that he needed to get home.

"i can't come home right now-" again, he was cut off. "mat - mat, maggie has cancer. she just got the news hun." maggie's mom explained, her voice faltering in and out.

mat dropped the tape and stick, and stared at the ground. he couldn't move, he couldn't speak and felt as if his world was frozen. "mat?" she questioned as tears began to form in his brown eyes, and then he looked down and let out a small whimper. this was not how maggie had planned for him to find out, but she wanted him home. anders lee looked over a few stalls and saw mat begin to cry, and quickly looked around and saw a few other guys begin to look up. "tell her- tell her im coming home- now." he said before hanging up. he wiped his eyes, sniffling, and standing up.

"mat." anders said standing up and trying to assess the situation, and mat couldn't look at anybody in the eye "i - i have to go find coach, let him know i - i have to go home." he said before walking out. he found coach pretty quickly and as soon as he said told the news to him, he broke down. him and management would do what they needed to do to give him some time off, so they could process it together as a couple. mat thanked them before quickly going and changing to head out. "mat, is everything okay?" matt martin questioned as he sat back down next to him. mat shook his head, continuing to get changed. before mat was about to leave matt spoke up, "if you need anything from us just let us know ok?" matt said and mat thanked him before walking out. he sat in the car for a few moments before heading home.

mat made it home in about 35 minutes, quickly heading inside, and was met with sobbing. he followed it to the living room to see maggie in her mom's arms trying to comfort her daughter. "mags?" he asked setting his keys down on the coffee table in front of them and maggie's sobs ceased. she turned around slowly, her cheeks stained with tears and crimson red. her mom got off the couch and said she was going to call maggies dad, and mat took over. "mat-" she sobbed and mat nodded, "i know." he repeated over and over again softly. his heart broke as he listened to her sobs and the way her body crumbled in his arms. he rubbed her back, his body slowly relaxing as her sobs grew softer and softer until she wasn't crying. "i didn't want to tell you that way, im so sorry mat." she said looking up from his chest and his eyebrows crinkled in confusion. "don't apologize for one second. you needed me and wanted me home, you know ill come running always mags." he said softly kissing her temple. she nodded, "doctor says i don't have very long.." she said feeling herself beginning to cry again. "he says its too far along for chemo." she said before her body began to shake, and mat pulled her in tighter. in fear of losing her for just one second.

this was the absolute love of his life, he knew the second he saw her from across the bar. newly 21, she decided to head to a bar that her and her friends had never been to in manhattan, and that was where she first sat mat. just like any other girl, she was a goner. there conversation in that bar, lasted for a few hours before heading back to her place to continue that said conversation. they couldn't get enough of one another, mat even stayed in the off season for pretty much the full thing just so they wouldn't be apart. only going home, when she was able to get a week off.

how could he be losing the one thing that mattered most in this universe? the one person he only saw himself having kids with? the one who goes above and beyond for any and all events while maintaining a full time job as a paralegal? the one person that no matter what could put a smile on his face, and garner a chuckle from even after the most brutal of brutal losses. how could he lose the one that he believed was created for him and vice versa? who's hand fit in his or the way their arms felt like home to one another? how could he give up that for a life of unknowns and one where he goes back to the drawing board?

◦

'Cause what about, what about angels? They will come, they will go, make us special, oh

◦

maggie was his angel, and he was her's they always liked to say. heck, they were even named that on their phone's. he knew that he had met maggie and created a life with her, for a reason. there was something deeper and more meaningful in knowing her and loving her than mat could ever decipher. those three months of holding on only to let his angel go, was the hardest thing he'd ever had to do, and hoped that it would be the only hardest thing he'd have to endure. he watched as her body gave up on itself, and the smile that usually was plastered on her pale skin- gone. wiped clean and stripped. he watched as she lost her hair, and her sense of confidence was swept away. the love for life slowly crumbled for the frail girl. her sense of days and time blurred together, resulting in anger, grief, and confusion for her. mat always there to pick her up, help her gain a sense of reality and come back to the present. and then for her to enter hospice for only a few days, spawning in one last sleep together. one last goodnight kiss for his fiance.

he would go back in time to redo the last two years. he would give up anything in this lifetime to have more time with her. he would do anything to hold her close once more.

◦

Don't give me up

◦

maggie made mat promise that he would move on with life, he would move on with hockey and move on and find somebody else in this lifetime. she begged and pleaded, to not walk through life alone. that he was far too young and had way too many years left to be alone. mat couldn't get her to understand that he would never want anybody else. that there would be no other woman that he'd fall in love with. he also would not allow himself, in respect to her. maggie said that he could fall in love again, and that it would be ok. that he could still live his life and hold her in his heart forever, all while creating a life with somebody else. somebody else should be so ever lucky to know him and love him, and gain his love in return.

"matty.." maggie whispered, one cold winter night. mat's sleep schedule non existant since taking a leave of absence from the team. his sleep being short and light, with every move or sound maggie made. he quickly opened his eyes, looking down at her as she turned around in his arms. her soft green hazel eyes, puffy and encircled by bags. "whats wrong? do you need anything?" he questioned beginning to shift but she shook her head. "i just-i cant sleep." she murmured, biting her chapped lip. "what are you thinking about?" he questioned softly, pushing the few strands she had left. she clasped her eyes shut in embarrassment and guilt that was coursing through her veins at this point. "im sorry." she hummed, as she let a few tears fall. "what are you sorry for?" he questioned, wiping them gently. "im sorry for everything....im sorry that this happened...you don't deserve this at all. you shouldn't have to watch me falling apart like this. you-you deserve to be playing and developing your career, not be here with me." she said and mat shook his head. he couldn't think of any reason why she was thinking this, or any reason why she thought it to be true. but he knew why. "no. no. please don't say that mags. there is no way under any circumstance that i would not be here. no reason. i would -" he paused knowing that the next few words needed to send the message. "i would kill myself if i couldn't be here. i wouldn't be able to live withmyself and go on with my day to day or life for that matter if i wasn't here, because you'd be my every thought and concern." he paused as she looked up to meet his eye. "i vowed two months ago that i would be here through everything and i meant that. don't give me up maggie, because ill be here no matter what. ill be stubborn as hell if you banish me, you best believe." he said a bit cheekily at the end. she swallowed hard, her throat dry like the arizona desert at this time of the night.

she brought a soft hand to his cheek, and he closed his eyes savoring the feeling and the cold that oozed from her. when he reopened his eyes, he saw the tears that were still in her eyes. "whoever is lucky to find you in this lifetime, is one incredibly lucky girl." she hummed and he felt his heart break even more.

◦

How unfair, it's just our luck Found something real that's out of touch But if you'd searched the whole wide world Would you dare to let it go?

◦

maggie was adored by each and every person that came across her. her midwestern people pleasing and kindness made her somebody that people flocked to. that was partially why he was enamored the moment he left her apartment after the two spent 6 hours talking.

his grieving was stemmed in anger and frustration, that somebody so sweet and loving and a pearl in this world, could be taken away so quickly. her dreams and wildest ideas that would never come to fruition. mat would go to the ends of the earth just to be with her again. he'd never let go, in another lifetime. in another lifetime they were married and had kids and had the life they dreamed of; together.

◦

'Cause what about, what about angels? They will come, they will go, make us special, oh

◦

trigger warning: death.

mat and maggie lay in each others arms, as the nurse had just left for the evening. maggie had some inkling that tonight would be her last, as maggie had just entered hospice in their home a few days prior. her days had been filmed with a nurse coming in the morning to administer morning meds, they'd leave and come back in the afternoon for more meds and then come back in the evening to take vitals and more meds.

mat basked in these quiet moments when she wasn't vomiting or shaking with chills from the side effects that the meds gave her. he'd been able to savor and cherish these small moments when maggie's true self came through. he savored her little giggles, rambles, and her humor come through before she'd fall asleep.

maggie looked up at mat and smiled. "what?" he said grinning, her smile sending butterflies from head to toe. "i was just thinking..." she paused frowning slightly now, "i hope that-that in every other universe or lifetime, we got one another. perhaps in those ones...we got more time together." she said beginning to cry. mat pulled her in closer, joining in now. he sobbed into her neck as she cried into his chest. "every single one, mags. every one." he whispered loud enough for her to hear and that made her sob even more.

mat knew as soon as she fell asleep, she would not wake again. he didn't sleep one second that evening, watching as her chest rose and fell. fearing that if he did, she would slip from this world. it was around 5:34 when the sun was beginning to rise, he saw her chest fall for the last time before the machine went off. he pulled her in as tears fell, not wanting to let go for the final time. her parents ran in at the sound, her mom going to shut the machine off whilst her dad called 911. his parents came in and quickly went to console maggies parents before all of them took their final moments with her, with mat not wanting to let go.

◦

"she was the love of my life, since the moment i saw her. the very first word out of her mouth, i knew she'd be mine. we were destined for each other, and liked to say we were made for one another. she was my angel and i her's." mat paused, sniffling. "magdalene harper, was an angel to everybody that came across her. no one had anything bad to say about her, always going above and beyond; all with her incredible midwestern accent that i absolutely adored." he said pausing to smile. "she was always there to put a smile on my face, to make me crack even after a brutal loss, always ready to tickle if i didn't budge. gosh...she always knew how to make me gain perspective and understanding. always coming in with an angle on life, that i would have never thought of without her." he paused, wiping his eye. "that's what i loved most..was her keen ability to make sense of life and what it had given her, us, me. you name it, she always knew how to take the bad and make it into the good. i believe that the universe placed her in my life for a reason, one that i may never understand or figure out. and ill never understand why she was taken from us far too early, but i know deep down she was here for a reason. she was one of those persons in life, that you wanted to know. she left you with something each and every time you conversed or shared a moment with her." he paused to sniffle once more. he bit his lip, wiping a few tears. "before my grandmother passed on my dad's side, about 4 years ago now she had said something about maggie." he paused to smile, "my grandmother said, people will come in and out of your life, for whatever reason but only some will leave you with something to hold dearly for the rest of your life. and in the next moment, she said that i had to marry this one, that i cannot let this one go. i told her not a beat later, i had the ring. that i had had it for a few weeks at that point. that i was just waiting for the right time, and my grandmother said she felt at peace knowing that i had somebody in my life at such a young age to go through life with. she felt better knowing that i'd be loved for the rest of time, by an angel." he paused briefly before his final sentences. "she loved selflessly. she loved me without hesitation, she loved everybody selflessly even on the hard days, even when she was frustrated with the world, even when i was in a rut, she'd be there with that smile on her face that gave me butterflies from head to toe. that was the hardest thing I've had to grapple with and work through is that how could somebody that loved me and so many others, leave so soon? im afraid me nor anybody in this room will ever know that answer. but like my grandmother said, "people will come in and out of your life, for whatever reason but only some will leave you with something to hold dearly for the rest of your life". though i may not have gotten the lifetime that we vowed to one another, and one that we yearned for; i will forever hold the time, memories, and the love that we had for one another; forever." he finished, leaning away from the stand just a bit silently crying for a few seconds before wiping them away. everybody that was there, watched with sadness and despair.

mat did not deserve this. maggie did not deserve the pain that she went through. none of their inner circle deserved it either.

◦

mat went to bed most nights, in hopes of seeing maggie in his dreams. and for a long while she was there, but as time went on, his dreams turned and changed as the years went by. though, every once in a while if he saw something or heard something that reminded him of maggie, she'd plague his dreams like never before. and when he'd wake, he'd smile as his heart was a little heavy but smile because in his dreams, she was pain free and exactly who she was before cancer.

and he would always remind himself that at some point, they'd be together again.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Hope you enjoyed, please like and reblog if you did (:

tags: @cuttergauthier @hockeyboysarehot @nicohischierz @fallinallincurls @bitchinbarzal @jayda12

#mat barzal #mat barzal blurb #mat barzal imagine #mat barzal x oc #nhl #hockey #nhl blurb #nhl imagine #hockey blurb #hockey imagine #New York islanders #queued post

145 notes · View notes

nervocat · 7 months

Note

hai hai hai!! this is like my first time requesting so i hope it’s not too bad but could i request lyney x reader fluff?

the idea is the two being hyper and chaotic but also trying to make a cake for fun

★ 📝 — notes: I rlly like this idea because that's kinda my personality so I know how to actually write it so yippee!! (don't think I did it justice tho)

Also I don't actually know how to cook very well so the cooking will be vague, and I should specify somewhere that people should tell me if its romantic or not because if not I'll just write it so it can be reads both

First time writing for Lyney tho, hope I did well anon ^^

— word count: 682 , fandom: genshin impact , cw: none — ✦

" Cooking Cake with Lyney "

You had decided to come over to Lyneys house to hang out with him and make a cake, though the two of you weren't good at cooking. You both know the basics though, so it's no trouble and there should be no worries about starting a fire, but Lynette and Freminet decide to at least hang out in the living room just in case, Lynette's words.

As of now, you two were in the kitchen near the middle of the cake making and the two of you already had some flour on your clothes and faces and on the floor, but you two will clean it up after you're done. There was no momentous occasion for the cake to be made, so there wasn't any rush and no need to make it all pretty, but you try anyways.

"Hey [name], what's the next step?" Lyney asks, holding the tin in which the cake batter was in. You look at the box and held it in your hands, searching for the instructions.

"You put it in the oven for about 30 minutes I think.. that's what it says on here," you move to show Lyney the box to which he leans over to look. You manage to swipe some of the cake batter onto your finger, knowing you washed them thoroughly beforehand and if there were any germs, they'd die from the heat of being cooked. Lyney looked baffled for a moment, but laughed anyway.

"Sneaky and clever as ever, [name]," he says as you eat the cake batter and he puts the tin in the heated oven and shut it, putting the timer on for 30 minutes. "So, what should we do now?" Lyney inquires, putting his hands on his hips. You giggle a bit, not being able to really take him seriously with all the flour on him. He sticks his tongue out at you and you reciprocate the move, also sticking your tongue out at him. During this, he flicks you on the forehead and smirks in victory afterwards, randomly pulling out a card deck from nowhere.

"Heyyy!" you whine at the flick, but that immediately changes when Lyney gets the cards out. You really liked his magic no matter what it may be, and it was a good way to pass time. You watch as he shuffles the cards and does a few tricks with them. After about 10-ish minutes, you smile mischievously as you decide to snatch his hat and out on top of your head and laugh a bit, moving to the opposite side of the counter. "Got your hat!"

It takes Lyney a moment to process that you took his hat, but when he does, he smiles and puts the cards away, saying "Caught me off guard again," and moves to take his hat back, you swiftly dodging it and you two circling the counter for a bit before you decide to finally give it back. The two of you are panting a little bit from running around the counter but you two are laughing, so it's ok. You hear the ding of the timer and find that the cake batter was done cooking and you take the cooking mittens before Lyney could and you teasingly eye him as you slip them on and open the oven. You take out the hot tray and put it on the stove to cool off.You take off the mittens and set them down next to the stove.

You two goof off more while you wait for it to cool down and you clean up the flour on the ground, you sweeping it while Lyney holds the dustpan. Sometimes you intentionally get more flour in his face from the broom, and he just playfully glares at you from where he's knelt down with the dustpan.

When it comes to decorating the cake, it's a little messy and Lynette and Freminet don't even question the flour mess or the mess of the decorating, hearing and being able to guess about the usual antis you two get up to. ☆

🌊 ★ — © nervocat || I appreciate any reblogs made, and pls don't repost or translate my works anywhere, ty — ✦ 📖

#— ★ nervos published books #genshin x gn reader #genshin impact x male reader #genshin impact x gender neutral reader #platonic genshin x reader #lyney x reader #lyney x gender neutral reader #lyney x gn reader #x gn reader #x gender neutral reader #x male reader #genshin impact #genshin #genshin impact lyney #I'll proofread this after school #and make changes if needed

76 notes · View notes

ty-bayonet-betteridge · 5 months

Text

(transfem top x ambiguous gender pov bottom, woundfucking smut, do not read if you are underage. trigger list will be in the first reply.)

the girl you've been talking to online turns out to be local. not too surprising since your city is so major compared to some of the other ones left, but still good news. you had plans to meet up tonight at a bar near her place and are almost ready when she sends you this text:

sorry have 2 cancel bc work running late. i work from home tho so if u want 2 come over i can send the address

you agree and she gives you the address to her apartment. she says the door will be unlocked when you get there so let yourself in. you send her a thumbs up and head over. her apartment building is very poorly designed - the only door into her place is accessible from the third landing of a rusted fire escape. you let yourself in after verifying that you have the right unit number. immediately after opening the door you are struck by the scent of blood and sweat, as well as other smells you can't immediately put names to and the humming of what sounds like a loud fan. she calls out from another room. she says hey. she says shut the door. you do. she says sorry i cant greet you im in the living room and cant move. you say thats ok and head towards her voice. the scent gets worse as you head through the door into her living room.

on top of the dirtiest sofa you've ever seen lies a man you do not know. he appears to be asleep, though with the state he's in it's difficult to tell. he has no legs, and no bandages covering the bloody stumps where they once were. the legs that previously WERE attached are sitting on the ground in a heap, along with his similarly detached arms. his chest cavity is open, and his ribs are unfolded. various tubes lead out of the open cavity. some of them are made of plastic and lead to what appear to be bags of saline, blood, and a strange machine with vents along the top that whirs loudly, the source of the noise you heard before. others are made of flesh, their shape and size similar to how you imagine intestines look, and they connect to several of the man's organs, which are currently stowed on a three-tiered rolling metal cart.

on the middle shelf is a jar of neon blue liquid, inside of which his heart sits, still beating thanks to live electrical wires leading to what appears to be a gutted and repurposed chunky plastic kid's electric piano. his lungs hang off of a hook on the side, inflating and deflating in a shuddering motion that is not at all what you expected breathing to look like. the middle shelf also holds his kidneys, one of which has been disconnected and sits in a pool of blood on the bare shelf. the other is in a jar of what seems to be some sort of clear jelly. the bottom shelf holds a concerning pile of viscera, none of it connected to the man. you pick out his stomach and intestines easily enough, but the offwhite translucent fatty mass that clings to the intestines and the sad grey sac included in the mix are foreign to you. the top shelf holds several organs you don't recognize as well - a yellowish-gray waxy lump in a vaguely phallic shape and a small red orb , both of which are suspended in the same jar of pale yellowish fluid and appear to connect back to the same fleshy duct. they twitch occasionally, but are otherwise motionless. another top shelf organ you identify as the liver. it has no special setup, simply laying flat on the shelf, but is nonetheless connected in several places and seems to be functioning normally, especially as you can see some sort of dirty yellow-brown liquid dripping out of it through a plastic tube and into a large, clear bottle that you're pretty sure was a mayo bottle at some point in its past. finally, two large cooking pots are gently simmering over a large camping stove, connected to the rest of the mess of tubes, ducts, veins, and flesh. one of the pots has a lid on, leaving you unable to see what's inside of it. the other is about half-full of an off-white, slightly meaty substance.

in the center of the mess sits the girl you're here to see. you've exchanged both lewd and non-lewd images before, so you recognize her well enough, though you haven't seen her in these clothes before. if you can call them that. she's wearing simple black panties, a pair of light grey ankle-height socks, a deeply stained apron with a heart and a KISS THE COOK on it (though somebody has taken a maroon fabric marker, crossed out COOK, and written SURGEON below it), a pair of yellow rubber dishwashing gloves, and nothing else. her legs have a thin covering of hair, as if she shaved four or five days ago and it's starting to grow back but she hasn't had the energy to shave it again. her wavy blond hair is unkempt, and she makes no effort to tie it back. this is somewhat concerning, as she currently sits hunched over the dismembered man on the couch, her hands inside of his open body cavity. her hair hangs around her face, the ends of it matted and dirty with blood and other fluids.

the man you thought was either sleeping or dead opens his eyes and turns to look at you, silent, a look of blank curiosity on his face.

she stands and turns to you. she looks like she hasn't slept in five weeks. there are track marks on her left arm. she extends a blood-soaked glove for you to shake. you take it, dazed. she says hey, nice to finally meet you in person. im riley. doctor riley grace davis MDE. you say nice to meet you too. she says sorry that theres not space on the sofa here. when she draws her hand back to gesture you wipe the blood off on your pants as best you can. she says do you want to sit at the kitchen table or go straight to the bedroom? you say um. you say sorry if this is rude but who is that? she says one of my clients. you say clients? she says yeah. you both look at each other for a moment. you say uh, sorry, what is it you do exactly? she says did it never come up? you say no. she says oh. she says sorry im used to people having heard of me, guess i forgot to mention. you say its fine. she says im a plastic surgeon.

you glance at the man with his organs spread out across the cart. you say that looks like a little bit more than plastic surgery. she says im very talented. you say isn't plastic surgery minimally invasive? im very talented, she repeats. come on into the kitchen, she says, turning to lead the way. you say uh, is it okay to leave him like that? she says yeah. you say isnt he going to bleed out? she says trust me, i'm a doctor. as she heads through the door she reaches one gloved hand to tap a frame on the wall. a smudge of blood is left behind on the glass. you look at the frame.

The assembled medical staff, Thinker-class parahumans, and administrative staff of the Parahuman Response Team East-Northeast, in cooperation with the governance of New Brockton on Earth Gimel, confer on RILEY GRACE DAVIS-LAVERE the degree of MEDICAL DOCTORATE EQUIVALENCY for recognition of medical knowledge and talent conferred by a parahuman ability, evaluated and classified as Tinker 8, as well as for the demonstration of excellence in prior practice of medicine and the use of that parahuman ability to complete an assessment of medical knowledge and talent agreed upon by PRT staff.

you follow her into the kitchen. in the time it took you to read her doctorate, she has apparently doffed both the apron and the gloves, which now sit on a pile in the floor. she holds out a bottle to you as you join her at the table. it's a green glass bottle with no label. what is this, you ask. beer she says. she says i made it myself. you take a terrified sip. it tastes amazing.

you are acutely aware of the fact that she is now topless. my eyes are up here she says. you say sorry, but she's grinning lecherously. she says you like'em that much? you say honestly i was stuck on how different you look from your pictures. she says wow, rude. you say i didn't mean it like that. she says how did you mean it? you take a second to collect your thoughts. you say your boobs are at least 50% larger in person. she says puberty is a magical thing. you say puberty? she says yup. you say how old are you? she says don't you know how to talk to a lady? you say absolutely nothing about this visit has led me to believe you're a lady. she laughs. you have no idea how to label the sound of her laugh in your mind. it would almost be a cackle if it didn't degenerate into a giggle. she says you wanna know how old i am? you say yes. she says me too, kid. you say what year were you born? she says 1998. you say okay, so- she raises a finger to stop you from talking. she drains her beer, then slams it down and starts talking very fast.

born in 1998, triggered and stopped aging mentally in 2005, went on puberty blockers in 2010, started aging mentally again in 2011, went off puberty blockers in 2012, undid my puberty and went back ON puberty blockers in 2013, then all of my self-modifications were undone also in 2013, and i dont know what else in my body changed at the same time, went off puberty blockers again in 2014, or 1 GM if you use that calendar, i dont because thats stupid but just in case, aged fairly normally until 2023, then undid my puberty again because i was scared, aged normally until 2029, and from then on my Amy and i have theseus shipped me about twenty times over because staying the same is boring. so yeah. the paperwork says i'm 38, let's go with that.

you dont know how to respond to that. to any of that. she gets up and says sorry, ill be back in a second. she leaves the room. you take another sip of the beer. you don't like beer. how the fuck does this taste so good? you glance around the kitchen a bit, not getting up. it's clean in the sort of way that indicates it doesn't see much use. the only thing that has clearly been used frequently is the microwave, which you can tell from here has probably never been cleaned since she bought it. at least the lack of mess means there's probably no mouse, rat, or ant problem. in here, at least. you vaguely wonder if the bloody, dying man in the other room would attract vermin.

she returns, shrugging on a filthy grey hooded sweatshirt and carrying a small case. she says sorry, room gets cold as balls sometimes. dont usually notice it while im working. she grabs another beer out of the fridge, then sits down and pulls a rolled cigarette out of the case. she pulls an old zippo out of the sweatshirt's front pocket, lights it, and starts puffing. it doesn't smell like nicotine or marijuana. want one, she asks. you say what are they. she says salvia mostly. she says bit of kratom to mellow it, but mostly salvia. are those safe to use together you ask. especially while drinking. she pauses. she says fuck, iunno. id hardly notice at this point if i started to OD. pretty sure im good enough to fix it if i do. fix it you ask. she says yeah. how you ask. she says im a doctor. damn good one too, she says. you say arent you a plastic surgeon. she says im a lot of things.

she says sure you don't want it? you seem tense. you say uh, ive never really been high before, don't want to start with untested interactions, no offense. she says none taken. she says youre drinking, though, that counts. you say im drinking but ive never really been drunk. she says wanna fix that? you say im good. she says good. she says being drunk sucks. she says worst depressant there is, just use tranquilizers if you want to start acting like an idiot and forget it all the next day. you say i didn't know you were so into this, um, scene, i guess? she squints at you. she says are you a cop? you say no. she says cause you're being awkward and simultaneously pretending you know and don't know what you're talking about and that's what a cop does. you say i'm not a cop. she says none of this is illegal. she says all this shit falls under the realm of reasonable materials for her research. you say i SWEAR im not a cop. she says and jeff in the living room there signed the consent forms and waivers before i started doing that shit to him. you say if i were a cop i would be given better training on handling this situation than just repeatedly saying im not a cop.

she says if youre not a cop why are you so fucking tense? she says calm the fuck down. you say um. she says you were so casual over text, thought we had good chemistry. you say we did. she says so whats got you like this? is it cause ive got a client? you start to answer her but she keeps talking. she says sorry about that, really. she says it was supposed to be a simple body swap job, organs out, couple changes, organs in, but dude keeps asking for more and more weird shit until somehow the plan has changed to him floating inside of a translucent biological skin suspended in a mix of lympatic fluid and vitreous jelly. you say what?? she says and i got no problem with that, but it means im gonna need a fuckton more meat than i thought i did when i started, and its gotta match him or his antibodies are gonna fuck him UP, so now im working his stem cells and bone marrow overtime to cook me up all the shit i need, meanwhile hes on life support and all this equipment is so esoteric i gotta babysit it the whole time, so i can't get away like we planned. again sorry about that she says.

you say its fine, i just didnt know what your job was. you say caught me off guard coming in and seeing a guy opened up like that. for a second started wondering if i was next. you laugh awkwardly. she does not laugh. she smokes a little more without saying anything. the silence goes on an uncomfortably long time.

she says do you want to be?

you say what? she says dates get discounts on ops, especially if its something hot or something simple. im really fucking talented too she says. she says you saw the state jeffs in and hes still alive and well. so cmon, anything you want? you say um. she says cmon, dont get shy now, tell me! you weren't scared to talk about kinks online. you say well there is one thing, not a body mod exactly but something that wouldn't be possible to do under normal circumstances. she says out with it, grinning wolfishly. you say im, uh, kind of into woundfucking.

she takes another gulp of her beer. she says god, who the fuck isn't? she says i'll never understand why that isnt a more common thing. seeing somebody as so much of an object that youd put a new hole into them just for your own fun. or alternatively, loving someone so much that you need to feel what it's like inside every part of them, need to connect with their muscle and blood just as much as you do the rest of them. fuck, it's delicious, she says, her grin stretching unnaturally wide, like a Glasgow smile that opened to reveal more teeth and gums. you have never felt more afraid. you have never felt more turned on.

you top or bottom, she asks. bottom you answer. good, she says, cause i've been wondering what you would look like screaming this whole time. your eyes widen. she downs the rest of her beer and stands up, grabbing your arm and yanking you up as she does so. she says cmon. you follow her, if only because when she pulls at you you briefly feel she may have the strength to tear your arm from its socket.

you pass through the living room. she shouts out yo, jeff. the unseamed man opens his eyes and looks at you. you cant read his expression. she says im gonna be busy in the next room for a couple hours. if you start dying, she says, slam your head into this. she grabs what looks like a game show buzzer off of a bookshelf covered in junk and sets it on the couch next to his head. she says should be loud enough for me to hear from the bedroom and come get you stabilized. blink twice if you got that. he blinks twice. she says cool, later. she pulls you through another nearby door and slams it closed behind her.

her bedroom is a confusing mix of the junk and grime you saw in the other room with a shockingly pristine bed. her clothes are strewn about the floor and the walk-in closet, with no organizational system you can discern, not even between clean and dirty. in fact, you wouldn't have called any of these clothes clean. she opens the cabinet under the bedside table, pulls out a huge roll of plastic sheeting, and covers the bed. ah. that explains it.

is this a dexter reference, or... you say, trailing off. she laughs again. what the fuck is that laugh? she says my amy got frustrated having to clean the sheets literally all the time so now i just do this instead. you say er, whos amy. she looks at you like youve lost your mind, a hypothesis you cannot disprove as you think on the situation. my wife, she says. wife you ask? she says fuck, did i not mention this either? shit, fuck, goddamnit. she says ive been married for three years. you say uhhhhhhhh. she says oh dont worry she knows! shes cool the relationships open. uh, unless YOURE not comfortable with me being poly, i guess. fuck i couldve sworn i mentioned this, she says. its not a problem you say. she says you wanna keep going? you say yeah. she says good.

she heads into the walk-in closet, grabbing a three-tiered cart from under a shelf and starting to wheel it to the bed. allergies, she asks? oxybenzone, you say. she says well im not planning to inject any fucking sunscreen into you, so i dont think thats relevant. you say look i dont know how any of this works, better safe than sorry. she says dont worry, you're always safe with me. AND im going to make you sorry, she says. she giggles before she stomps on a toggle on the cart that locks the wheels. you get a look at this cart and see that it has a collection of medical and not-so-medical implements, with the middle shelf appearing to contain various bottles, jars, and tubs of what you hope are medicines while the top shelf holds needles, sutures, scalpels, saws, scissors, and almost any kind of tool you can think of that holds a blade, from bread knives to x-actos. the bottom shelf has a large circular saw and a rusted chainsaw.

traffic light system for safety checks, she asks? you say yeah. cool she says. she pushes you onto the bed, the plastic crinkling as your head hits the pillow and you fall on your back. she sits on top of you, straddling your lap, holding your hands over your head by the wrist with one hand. she's freakishly strong, far moreso than her spindly limbs should allow. she takes the cigarette out of her mouth. you swallow. your eyes flick to it. you say sorry, can you, um... she grabs your neck, interrupting your speech and yanking your head forward. she leans down, spits on your cheek, and shoves the lit end of the cigarette against the same spot. the saliva buffers it slightly, but the burning feeling is still intense, a pain that rides through several seconds as she presses the cigarette into flesh. you hear yourself whining at the pain.

she flicks the now-extinguished cigarette aside and kisses you. it tastes like blood and morning breath and ash. she picks up one of the scalpels. in stark contrast to the rest of her home, each and every one of the tools is in sparkling pristine condition. she toys with the scalpel as she looks you up and down. you have any experience with being cut into, she asks? you say huh?, taking some time to process. oh, you say. um not really you say. never done cutting during play before and my only surgeries have been dental when i was a lot younger. she says no problem. she says im only gonna dull your pain a little, but let me know if i need to adjust sensation up or down. you nod breathlessly. she angles the scalpel and cuts through the front of your shirt, a swift motion that leaves the tip of the blade an inch or two from your neck. you recoil on instinct and she giggles again, pulling the knife back and moving the fabric of your shirt aside. she takes one of the smaller jars from the cart and dips two fingers in it, the scalpel dancing in her fingers as she does so, like a bored baton twirler doing pen tricks. the paste is bright pink, and she rubs it into the flesh of your upper stomach. you feel your nerves start to tingle slightly as she finishes.

she fills a syringe with something pastel red. placing her hand against the numbed area of your stomach, she spread her fingers, guiding the needle between two of them to hold it steady. you watch the point of the needle break skin, feel it sinking through your flesh. she depresses the plunger slowly. you exhale as she removes the needle. gooood toy, she says softly. your breath hitches at the praise and she smirks. she presses the scalpel to your skin, but doesn't start to cut. color, she asks? you say green. she smiles. she says making the incision.

the feeling of blade breaking skin isn't the sort of jarring penetration you thought it would be. the transition between the scratching pain of the scalpel against your skin to the actual slicing sensation is gradual, and you're not certain you could have pinpointed the moment if you weren't watching. you find yourself gritting your teeth, your jaw clenching involuntarily as your body tries not to vocalize the pain. it isn't intense, but it's persistent and deliberate in a way that doesn't match what you think pain should feel like.

riley is more energetic than youve seen her this whole time. she starts to hum happily to herself, cutting through your skin and flesh. the incision is vertical, two inches long and ending about an inch and a half above your belly button. she retrieves a pair of those metal clamps surgeons use to hold the incision open during surgery. you don't know what those are called. maybe you should ask her. you think that would kill the mood. you'll ask her after. she inserts them into the incision, adjusting the tension so that they spread it open about an inch. she notices you looking. she says you don't need to watch if it makes you squeamish, pet. you swallow hard. you say i want to watch. she giggles.

you lose track of time, watching her work. she wields the tools with a grace, precision, and speed you didn't think was possible. the blood wells out as she does so, flecks of it flying when she moves too frenetically, adding to the stains on her hoodie. it covers the ends of her fingers, drops trailing down to paint their streaks further down her hands and arms, like candle wax melting. your blood. her hands. you feel slightly faint, and you don't know if it's from arousal or bloodloss. the pain is constant, but still sharp enough not to ache. you breath shallowly, occasionally whimpering or letting your breath hitch as the scalpel catches flesh. for the most part, neither of you speak, though from time to time she gives soft praise, her voice warm and comforting as she assures you of how sweet and well-behaved you're being.

she isn't just making a hole. you don't know exactly what she's doing, but it's not just cutting. the needle and thread flash in her hands from time to time, and you can feel the muscle and fat in your torso being stretched and pulled, split and joined in new ways. your angle of view prevents you from seeing the operating area, to your dismay, and at times you almost speak up and ask if you could reposition so you could watch better - but you know you can't. it's not your place to ask anything of her. she's the one in charge.

still, you wish you could see. she described herself as a plastic surgeon earlier, but her movements don't match that description. it is not the slow, precise, micro-motion of a surgeon; her body language is free and expressive, passionate in a way that reveals her true nature. she is an artist, her chosen medium skin and meat, the tools of her craft surgical by their raw nature but not in the way she wields them. the blood-covered flesh, the sinew and fat held beneath your skin and even the skin itself are only the raw material with which she crafts her magnum opus. a sculptor of a living body, like a leatherworker or carver of bone taken to the logical conclusion.

she pulls off her sweatshirt, a sheen of perspiration covering her skin. your eyes are glued to her bare form. she notices you staring and flashes a predatory grin. aw, someone likes watching, huh? she says. you nod dumbly, and she chuckles. stupid little pile of meat, she says, affection in her voice. you think you might be in love. you cannot tear your eyes from her, though she evidently does not mind the attention as she returns to her work.

your gaze is not lustful, though doubtlessly lust is the predominant feeling in you. your focus is drawn to her through fascination and adoration, not arousal. you study her curves, the hair of her stomach, the dullling red stretch marks that frame her chest and gut and streak across her thighs, because this is the body of the woman who is recreating you. is this not the same as knowing the form of the god who shaped you in his image?

no, it is something different from that. this is not the god who made adam in his image but the god who knew man would need a companion, and shaped one from a rib torn from the body of his creation. a divinity that does not create from whole cloth but rends meat and bone until its craft is complete. a godly vulture, a being that tears its hooks into the carcass of the universe and pulls free a dried, gristly tendon, granting importance to that which exists but lied bound beneath the surface of the skin, out of sight, out of mind, waiting to ooze its way free from this veil of vellum. the perfected form of imperfection. the blood is drying in her filthy, matted hair. she takes a pill bottle from the cart, pours out a handful, and swallows them without water before returning to the frenzied stitching of your adipose tissues.

what must be hours later, she sits up and wipes the sweat from her brow, smearing your blood across it at the same time. she wipes more of the blood onto her thighs, apparently to clean her hands, though they are still caked with grime and gore. think its done, she says. she says anesthetic should be wearing off too. she sets the scalpel down and leans over you. she's right; you feel the sensation returning to the area she's operated on in full force. she lays on her side next to you, head propped up on her hand, her other arm draped across your body, cheshire smile on her face. you feel her fingertips lazily trace the edges of the gash before she slides one in.

how do you describe the sensation? what does it really feel like for something to work its way between the folds of your muscle, for subcutaneous fat and flesh to be pressed aside, molded, to make way for the penetrating presence of another? the pain is omnipresent, but not overwhelming as you expected it would be. the flesh holds sensation deeper than you thought it would as well - several inches beneath your skin, you can feel her fingers hook inside of you. you can't tell how much of the pleasure is physical and how much is psychological, but it is there, and it is overwhelming. you tense in response to it, moaning, and the tension causes your muscles to clench, sliding against her fingers, bringing sensation to new parts of your abdomen. the feedback loop overwhelms you, and you feel a disappointed whine escape you as her finger leaves the hole.

she giggles. so needy, she says. she says guess i did make you pretty sensitive, huh? you whimper in response. she says don't worry, i won't leave you empty too long. she moves, sitting on your lap, pulling the panties off as she does so. her dick flops out over your stomach. it is roughly human in shape, and on the larger end of normal human size, but its appearance throws you for a loop. it is stitched together, frankensteinian in construction, without even a consistent skin color. she notices you looking. you like it she asks? she says sort of had to bodge it together pretty quick, don't put nearly as much effort into my own body as i do others. she says amy could do better. you are far too horny to consider the implications of any of that. you whine, straining upwards to press the wound towards the tip of her cock. she laughs. good toy, she says.

she sighs deeply as she forces herself inside of you. ffffffffffuck, that's good, she says. your core muscles shift around her, flexing to squeeze her cock as she sinks it in, hilting inside of the hole. you moan, your hands coming up reflexively to cover your face in some act of shame or modesty which is at this point thoroughly meaningless. she pulls back out slowly, her cock glistening with your blood, before slamming back into you, new parts of your abdomen being forced aside to accommodate her. you think she is pressing against organs now. you desperately want her deeper.

she pulls your hands away from your face with one hand, and with the other shoves the finger that she had previously used to explore the laceration into your mouth. you suckle at it thoughtlessly as she rolls her hips, the tip of her dick forcing itself into your abdominal cavity. the taste of blood and sweat and dirt linger on your tongue. she starts thrusting hard, the repeated slamming of her cockhead against the parts of you that were never meant to be touched the only thing you can think about. it hurts. oh god, it hurts, and it feels so much better than anything you've ever felt. damn that's a good hole, she says. you don't say anything. she takes the finger out of your mouth. color, she asks? it takes you a second to connect the thought. green, you say. she says thank god. can i come in you she asks. you nod stupidly, your mouth still open from her finger being pulled out. she giggles.

she grabs your chin, tilts your head up, and presses her lips against you. she tastes like morning breath and your blood. it's delicious. you wrap your arms around her as she forces herself in and out of the gaping, bleeding wound in your stomach. she's so close to you, her whole body pressed against you as that massive, unnatural cock digs into your blood and muscle and guts. she doesn't smell like she knows what a shower is. she is practically laying on top of you. you can't think. your wrap your legs around her too.

she groans in your ear as she slams herself balls deep into the gash again. your insides are flooded with her cum. your own orgasm forces your core muscles to clench, tightening and sliding around her length, unintentionally milking her cock into you. she pulls out, laying the dick slick with blood, sweat, and cum across your stomach, as she pants. she rolls off of you, laying in bed beside you. unthinking, you turn onto your side and press your body against her. she wraps her arms around you and kisses you again.

you hear the sound of thrashing from the other room, followed by a cartoon buzzer sound effect, and then what sounds like the seinfeld jingle starts to play. she jumps to her feet. god fucking damnit, jeff, she says. she says i'll be right back as she crosses the room at a run, slamming the door behind her. the wound in your stomach is still bleeding. you have no idea how to process anything that just happened.

#wormblr #parahumans #worm spoilers #our writing #riley davis #riley grace davis #bonesaw #dr riley davis mde #hjow the fuck do i tag this #tw gore #tw body horror #tw blood #tw sex #tw medical stuff

70 notes · View notes

shoezuki · 27 days

Note

Theresbeen many a drunk headcanon and they be fun and funky but it got me thinking bout clumsiness outside of bein drunk.

Gepard seems very sure-footed. He's the captain of the guard, always leading, never showing hesitation lest it brings nerves upon his troops. I don't think he's some sorta balance god but I do think he's a steady guy that isn't really bumping into anything.

Sampo gives off cat vibes to me, I can imagine him scuttling up a wall jus to tiptoe across its top as if it was nothing. He's doin lil hops and skips just to show off a little. Whilst Geppie is strong in his stance and motion, Sampo is graceful but not really in a delicate way? He's got the smugness of a cat but his grace is more akin to an elk. It's got weight behind it but you can tell he's not fallin anytime soon.

But I like to think he's extremely used to having everything mapped out. He has places for everything and whilst it doesn't at all look neat, he knows exactly where everything is.

His coffee table is always crooked but he simply bends out of the way as he walks past, head in a stack of documents. There's stuff all over the floor but he's tiptoeing between them without hesitation. He has cabinets full of anything and everything, look in them and god knows what his file sorting system is but you ask for something specific and he makes a beeline for the bottom left drawer, stuffs his hand to the back and pulls it out instantly.

With Gep, he's also orderly. He knows where everything is but because it's neat. Even his pens are organised by colour and use. He's not a neat-freak, he's just grown up to always put things back where he found it when he's done and having shared sleepin spaces for so long with fellow soldiers, knows that keeping everything in its place makes things less stressful.

He knows better than to mess with Sampo's files or move any of his 'work' stuff but he's defo moving tidbits off the floor and pushing furniture back against the wall. Like, why is the sofa in the middle of the room??? How does someone do that in the first place???

So now Sampo, as aware and confident as he is, is now tripping over everything. He's knocked his shin on the coffee table 3 times in one day. He's stubbed his toe on the sofa and fully fallen to the ground, he's gone to grab something off the floor (where it usually is) only to realise it's no longer there and just stand in the middle of the room, looking lost, staring into space for 5 minutes.

He feels like he's been invaded. Never had to shrug off Natasha's questioning so often when she comments on a new bruise or scrape. He's not even getting them on the field!!!! That stool was perfectly fine in front of the cupboard. That's where he liked it.

But like hell is he gonna tell Gepard that. He's tried to some extent but it's only led to long circle talk. After all, it's unsurprisingly hard to explain that you like your furniture layout to look like someone's lost a fight in your home and having things not in the way is mildly disturbing.

This was meant to be about clumsiness. They're gettin away from me again XD

~ 🥃

YesyesyesYES SBGDV god they both have like. Theyre own sense of order. Like gepard's is the most blatant. Hes got a Schedule ok he has an order to how he does things and when he does things and where stuff goes.

But sampo seems Chaotic. Like his things seem to be a mess and all disjointed and over the place but To Him he has like. A System. He has no fucking clue what that system is and can Not explain it whatsoever but hes got it. Sure its a mess and no one knows how he can possible operate like this and especially concerning his bomb making its crazy he hasnt blown himself up yet but it Works.

Them living together is Hilarious cuz if this. Like gepard needs things where theyre 'supposed' to be, while sampo shifts his things n environment according to Him. Mfers in a silent war cuz they keep moving shit back to where They think its sposed to be. Like sampo keeps shifting the coffee table to the left and at a bit of an angle so that he can rest his feet on it from the sofa but gep keeps moving it back cuz its Supposed To Be Exactly 2 feet from the sofa and Right in the middle of the fucking rug, sampo. Every late night sampo moves the dishes around seemingly randomly so that his favourite bowls and mugs are easily reachable while he cooks and every morning gepard gets up and reorganizes the cupboards by size and type of dish while he makes coffee.

Theyre engaging in domestic psychological warfare

#fight FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT #does belobog have dishwashers. cuz if so they absolutely fight over how the dishwasher should be loaded #🥃#anon #sampard

42 notes · View notes

runnning-outof-time · 2 years

Text

More than Material | Tommy Shelby x Reader

Request: yes by anonymous

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x reader

Summary: (Y/N) tries to get Tommy to understand that she doesn't need so many material things, and that instead she needs him. Tommy doesn't quite know how to take that.

Warnings: smoking, language, sexual situations (PG-13 rated)

Word Count: 3126

A/N: this was a fun one to write. I hope it doesn’t feel rushed to y’all. Enjoy! :)

I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! - YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged in stories similar to this!

To say that (Y/N)'s life did a complete 180 is an understatement. How does a young woman go from barely having any money to her name and working tireless hours as a schoolteacher in the dirty city of Small Heath to living a lavish lifestyle in an estate with an entire staff ready to wait on her? The short answer: Tommy Shelby.

(Y/N) (Y/L/N) and Tommy Shelby first met when the blue-eyed businessman came to her school with the intention of making a charitable donation. The headmaster tasked (Y/N) with giving him a tour of the grounds and allowing him to get a better idea of what their school did for the community.

She thought it would just be a one and done deal, but she arrived at her classroom the next day to find a Shelby Company Ltd. business card sitting on her desk. Written on the back of it was: meet me here @ 6.

'Here' meant the address of the Shelby's home base for their operations; the betting shop on Watery Lane. (Y/N) had heard about their company before. She knew who the Peaky Blinders were and what they did amongst the community. And she was intrigued. So she accepted his invitation and went where he told her to. Upon arriving, she found him waiting outside for her.

They went to the Garrison, where they shared a dinner. To her surprise, Tommy was a rather interesting man to talk to. He promised her that if she was interested, their next dinner would be somewhere more classy, and he didn't disappoint. The following weekend, they wined and dined at The Ritz in London, and from then on, (Y/N) was hooked.

Things between them quickly moved from sharing a dinner table to sharing a bed, and within a month of the couple seeing each other, (Y/N) agreed to move in with him in Arrow House. Now she lived in the mansion on the beautiful grounds alongside Tommy and his three year old son, Charlie, who was a polite, young boy. She still decided to keep her job though, she just had to transfer to a school that was closer to her new home.

As time went on, (Y/N) learned more about the Shelby family and the business that it had been tied into. She quickly realized that all of its members, save for Ada, who was in Boston, and Finn, who stayed in Small Heath, had just recently been released from prison and essentially wanted nothing to do with Tommy. She didn't know the exact reason as to why this was the case, but she was able to see the tension rise within him whenever someone spoke about them, so she decided not to bring the topic up. Tommy seemed to be ok with it just being the three of them living at Arrow House. She figured that the relationships would be repaired in due time.

Another thing she noticed pretty quickly with Tommy was that he enjoyed buying her things. Whether it was bringing something home with him from his business trips, or having things custom-made and delivered to the house, the train of gifts seemed to be endless.

(Y/N) still remembered the first time that Tommy bought her something. She was sitting in the front room of the house when his car pulled up outside. She waited to hear Mary greet him, and a smile formed on her face as she heard his footsteps approaching the room she was in.

"Welcome home, Tommy," she greeted him with a smile as he walked through the doorway.

"Hi, love," he smiled back at her as he walked over to where she was sitting. She twisted her neck and craned it upwards so that she could meet him in the middle and accept the kiss that he gave her before she allowed him to sit on the section of couch that was open next to her. "How've you been?" he asked her once he was sitting.

"I've been well. I missed you, but I managed. There's just so much to do around here; getting the property ready for spring and whatnot," she told him about what she'd busied herself with while he was away.

"Sounds like you had your hands full," he mused as he glanced over at her.

(Y/N) laughed slightly at his statement, "I'm sure it was nothing compared to what you were faced with on your trip," she brushed off his words.

"The trip was only business," he shook his head, his way of waving off her statement.

"Polly called while you were away..." (Y/N) trailed off, switching the topic hesitantly.

"Hmm?" Tommy hummed, now focused on lighting the cigarette that he'd just placed between his lips.

"She wanted to hear how Charles was doing. I offered for her to come over and see him, but she declined," she gave him more information on the call that had happened.

"She only calls when she knows I'm away," Tommy commented, an indiscernible emotion laced into his words. (Y/N) sent him a knowing look. A few beats of silence passed before Tommy cleared his throat and moved in his seat so that he was turned and slightly facing (Y/N). "I've got something to show you," he started, talking with the cigarette between his lips as he fished something out of his suit jacket's pocket.

(Y/N) was intrigued by his statement. She turned herself so that she was completely facing Tommy, a smile on her face as she waited intently for what he had to show her. It took him a few moments, but eventually he had what looked to be a thin, rectangular box in his hands. "What is it?" she asked, the anticipation getting to be too much.

"Open it," he instructed her, a lazy grin on his lips as he held the box out in her direction.

(Y/N) did as she was told, opening the box to show a diamond line bracelet that shimmered from the lights in the room. "Oh wow, this is beautiful, Tommy," she commented with a slight gasp, "Polly's really gonna like it."

Tommy gave her a bit of a confused look, "'s not for Polly, love. It's for you," he corrected her, making her look up at him with a wide-eyed expression that made him chuckle. She didn't know why she mentioned his aunt; it must've been the first thing on her mind.

"For me?" she asked, in shock now.

"Yes," Tommy nodded, taking the bracelet out of its confines then, "give me your hand," he said with a grin and she did. She laughed at her now shaking hand as she held it out in the space between them so that he'd be able to hook the bracelet around her wrist.

"Wow, Tommy," she said in awe once it was hooked on. It fit perfectly and was really sparkling now. "This must've cost a fortune. You really didn't need to buy it for me," she continued as she then looked up at him.

"You deserve it...for putting up with my shit and all," he brushed her statement off, a grin forming on his lips. "You like it?" he asked her then.

"Like it?" she looked at him incredulously as her smile widened, "I absolutely love it," she said, then leaning in to kiss his lips. He caught her chin with his hand and kept her there, kissing her once more before they pulled away and he stroked her cheek with his thumb.

"I'm happy to hear that," he grinned at her, his eyes hooked onto hers from where they were inches away.

"Thank you, Tommy," she whispered, "I don't know how I could repay you."

"There's no need," he told her, stroking her chin once more.

A bit of a grin started to form on her face then, "surely there must be some way that I can," she said, and Tommy caught her tone change. It made him chuckle as he allowed her to move over so that she was now sitting on his lap. "Can you think of anything?" she asked him in a sultry whisper as she then lowered her lips to his in a passionate kiss.

The gifts didn't end there though. After the bracelet came matching earrings and a necklace; all for the reason of her just being there and putting up with him. Then the gifts started getting bigger.

(Y/N) was in the process of changing from her day's clothes to her nightgown when the door to the bedroom opened. She jumped slightly but then relaxed when she noticed that it was Tommy. "Close your eyes, love," he instructed as he moved closer to her.

"Why am I doing this?" she asked him with a smile as she did what she was told. She was able to feel him stop in front of her.

"Gimme your hands," he gave her another instruction and she listened, holding her hands out in front of her. Immediately, there was something that held weight resting against her arms. "Open your eyes," he told her and she did, her gaze dropping to see that a garment bag was now resting against her forearms.

"What's this?" she questioned curiously as she looked between him and the bag.

"Open it," he told her, a grin forming on his face as she moved over to the bed so that she could lay it there and move the zipper from the top to the bottom.

A beautiful, emerald colored gown was revealed when she pulled the folds of the bag back. The sight of it nearly took her breath away. "What is this for, Tommy?" she asked, her mouth gaped slightly as she turned to look at him.

"Take it out," he ignored her question, nodding his head to the garment. (Y/N) turned again and pulled the piece from the confines of the bag.

"My goodness..." she breathed in awe as she took in the entirety of the floor-length ball gown that was made of the most regal material she'd seen in her life.

"You like it?" Tommy asked from behind her, making her turn to look at him with the dress still in her hands.

"It's beautiful, Tommy," she agreed with him, glancing between him and the dress once more. "Why did you buy it?" she couldn't help but ask.

"I bought it because I thought you'd look fucking gorgeous in it," he answered her with a grin, her cheeks heating up just at his words.

"Should I go try it on?" she queried, looking at him with excited eyes.

"Go on," Tommy nodded his head and she quickly made her way over to the dressing screen in the corner of the room.

Soon enough, she had the garment on and came out to show him. "How does it look?" she asked as she did a twirl while looking in the mirror. She felt like a princess with it on.

"Fucking perfect," Tommy answered, a grin on his face as he drank her in. She then stopped her twirling and locked her eyes with his before moving slowly over to where he was standing. "Just like I thought you would," he finished his previous statement in a softer voice as he hooked his hands around the small of her back and held her close to him.

"Thanks for this, Tommy," she said, her hands settling on his shoulders as he swayed her gently to imaginary music, "even though I don't think I deserve it."

"Of course you deserve it," Tommy dispelled her doubts, shaking his head before he dropped his lips onto hers.

As the months went on, the amount of gifts that (Y/N) received from Tommy stayed steady. The only thing that changed was how he'd present them to her. It went from him making a big spectacle about the newest thing he'd gotten her to him mentioning that he'd bought it for her as he placed whatever it was into her hands or lap. He'd be leaving the room before she could even thank him for the present.

She was sitting at her vanity in the master bedroom when Tommy entered. She glanced up and saw him walking over in the mirror, so she decided to stay quiet until he reached her.

"I got this for you," he said, his hand coming around in front of her to show a red velvet, rectangular box. She opened it without a reaction, moving through the motions of opening it like clockwork to show a golden necklace with a diamond pendant in the middle. "Thought you'd look good in it," he continued, his voice rather monotoned in nature.

He was still holding the box, and before he could move to set it on the vanity and walk away, (Y/N) grabbed onto his forearm. "Why do you buy me all of these gifts, Tommy?" she questioned as she turned and looked up at him.

"Cuz I thought you'd like them," he answered, his voice still flat.

"You need to stop."

"What?" his brows were furrowed now because he hadn't expected such a statement to come from her.

"You need to stop buying me these gifts just to buy them for me; just because you think I'd like them," (Y/N) explained herself more in depth as she kept her eyes hooked onto his, her hand still holding a slight pressure on his forearm.

"Why? I thought you like them?" he questioned, still taken back by her statement.

"Because it's too much, Tom. All of these gifts are getting to be too much for me," she told him, taking a deep breath as she stood from the bench seat so that she was now standing in front of him. "They're too much and I don't need them...I already have everything I need in you," she spoke in a sincere voice, her hand slipping down his forearm so that she could link her fingers with his.

Tommy didn't say anything at first. He stood with his brows furrowed as he tried to wrap his head around what she'd just told him. "You...you don't like the gifts I've been giving you?" he finally asked, making his confusion evident now.

(Y/N) shook her head slightly. "No, I didn't mean it in that sense. I appreciate everything that you give me, it's just....I don't need them to be happy," she tried to stress her point, "all I need to be happy is you, Tommy."

"I...I don't think that giving myself would be enough for you, love," he told her, his words sounding unsure. (Y/N) frowned slightly as she heard what he had to say.

"You are enough. My love for you is more than material...I fell in love with the person I met and came to know before you started giving me all those fancy things," she spoke with sincerity as she kept her eyes hooked onto his, "and I'll stay here with you if you stop giving me those material things, because what I enjoy the most about this; about us, is the things only you can give me. Like the way you hold me," she paused, taking hold of his hands and manually hooking them around her waist. Tommy took the hint and kept them fastened there after she released her grip from him. "The way you look at me," she continued, her hands now moving up to take hold of his cheeks so that their gaze could be locked on each other. "And the way that you kiss me..." she trailed off again, placing a kiss to the corner of his lips. She pulled away just enough so that she could look him in the eyes again. "Kiss me, Tommy," she whispered, and that was enough for him to make his move. His lips pressed to hers in a passionate kiss that just about swept her off of her feet.

She let a satisfied moan vibrate against his lips, the sound of it egging Tommy on as he moved his hands up from the swell of her hips to the top of her back. There, he fumbled with the buttons of her dress for a moment before undoing them so that the garment now hung slack on her shoulders. His deft hands wasted no time in sliding the material down her arms, and she dropped her hands from his face so that she could let it drop completely; the dress now only hugging onto her hips. "I love when you do this to me," she breathed against his lips, "...so much better than any gift you could give me."

Her words only spurred him on more, and he wasted no time in blindly moving her over to their bed, allowing her to fall back onto it before he hovered over her. "You love this?" he questioned her, his eyebrows raised slightly as a grin teetered on his lips.

"Yes," she breathed in between the kisses he was giving her, "god, yes." She then reached up to undo his waistcoat, and he shrugged it off his shoulders and sat it on the side of the bed before she quickly continued with pulling the suspenders off of his shoulders so that she could get to work on unbuttoning and taking the dress shirt off of his body. She'd just finished with the last button and was about to take the material off of his broad shoulders when he leaned down and pressed his lips to the valley of her neck.

“You’d rather this?” he asked in between his kisses.

"Yes, Tommy," she whined, wanting nothing more than to feel his bare skin against her. He hummed against her neck, which only served her to become more antsy for what was to come. "Take your fucking shirt off, Tommy," she finally ordered him, making him chuckle against her skin before he pulled away and did what she asked him to.

Quickly, the button down and undershirt came off of his torso, and (Y/N) happily reached up and grabbed hold of his neck, bringing his chest flush against hers. Their lips met again, and their kisses became fervent as they scrambled to rid themselves of the last pieces of clothings separating one body from the other.

And sure, the gifts didn’t stop after that day, but they became more scarce in nature, which (Y/N) really appreciated. Instead of the material items, Tommy made sure to spend his time loving on his woman, because (Y/N) found that to be the greatest gift of all.

Tagged: @alreadybroken-ts @magicalxdaydream @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @golden-hoax @elenavampire21 @peaky-cillian @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @notyour-valentine @easilyobessedbutflighty @shelbydelrey @december16-1991 @onlydeadcells @peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole

MASTERLIST

#tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x y/n #tommy shelby imagine #peaky blinders #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinders fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic

873 notes · View notes

hoe4rairai · 5 months

Text

Raian with Friends & Family 👥️

Requested by @aneenasevla

▪︎ let's be honest, Raian doesn't have friends. His feral nature, type of life he is leading and the lack of emotional and social intelligence. He knows one thing only, how to kill and destroy

▪︎ Fast forward, he's now around 27/28 I guess so I hope after his Grandpa's death he'd become little grounded and tasted how it feels like to loose someone he secretly cared for.

▪︎We also established that Raian is an Introvert mostly, so connecting with ppl other than those who prepare his missions at the back office isn't a habit of his.

▪︎ Raian, only considered one person to connect with and that was Ohma and still is. Not out of appreciation per se, but out of inner respect and as a kure, it runs in their tradition to respect strong challenging opponents.

▪︎Raian and Ohma, are mostly training together, yes they do have side conversations, tease each other. Raian mainly pick at Ohma and give him hard time.

▪︎ Will Raian ever be loyal to Ohma ? the answer is yes and no.

▪︎ Raian is an assassin from a ruthless clan his loyalty will always be to the clan #1 any one else can die or go to hell he couldn't care less.

▪︎With Ohma, apparently his only acquaintance, he will consider being there for if needed or if he felt its needed. Anything related to destroying count him in.

▪︎ Raian is possessive and the jealous type, so If ohma has another group of ppl he would hang out with or a GF , Raian will hate it and will make sure he'll speak filthy about them, make trouble and cause inconvenience to anyone . That was few years back

▪︎ Raian now, has a huge responsibility on his shoulder that even his friendship with Ohma is on a stop-loss till he get his revenge.

▪︎Raian knows Ohma is there for him and the clan because they allowed him to live among them and be part of them,however; he is very distant now, training non stop , have no time and had grow bit mature, so I hope .

▪︎ In Festival seasons, Raian would occasionally enjoy some Saki or beer pints with the clan , the firework, he's not a fun killer. Few years back he would had ended with fights after each and every celebration just for fun, now he is hardly ever seen socialising at all.

▪︎ Fusui his sister, she is probably the only one who has full access to him. Knows his moods and his where abouts, his missions and she does check on him every now and then. He sometimes answers with a ( F*ck off ) or keep her on read and send her the middle finger emoji , his way of telling her he's in an ok mood or doing fine.

▪︎ the time he didn't respond with 24hrs, Fusui gets worried. Listen guys, Raian is an Asshole we all know that but he's a rare treasure to the clan and he's a big ass stupid idiot trouble maker baby who might be going through hard time after grandpa got killed. I feel he's been in an inner conflict for some time now.

▪︎ Raian will either mature or becomes a nightmare unstoppable and unattainable.

▪︎ I Hear you asking about his parents: not sure but I think they dropped his case with his first ever kill. They don't hate him they just believe and certain that Raian is war God and they probably just like the rest of the clan members, know he'd destroy anyone who'd try to speak up or trade the Clan secrets or jeopardise their Safety. THAT RAIAN NO ONE SHOULD SEE .. lucifer himself will dethrone himself and run straight to hell saving his ass from Raian.

RAIAN & Gifts 🎁:

▪︎ He basically rips the cute nice ribbon apart , has an annoying look on his face, without much though given to the gift he picks it up from the box look at it : ( WDF IS THIS ) no thank you and no consideration. Just throws it away in hopes he'll use it one day.

▪︎ At school , Raian had few crushes but he crushed them back quite literally when the girl used to approach him shyly with his birthday gift but instead he slams her to the wall push her with his body, lift her skirt teasing her, grab the gift , opening it fast, looking at it , through to the ground , laughing at her crying face and walk away. Still for some reason girls at school liked him a lot ...

▪︎ fast forward, the only one who gives him gifts is YEP YOU GUESSED IT FUSUI ...

▪︎she buys him gifts everytime she goes on a mission, expensive perfumes, showr gels, expensive knives sometime, she gets him a branded trainer, she knows his size.

▪︎ Did he ever got her anything ? The answer is

NO NO NO

▪︎instead he always gives her his Credit Card .. that's what he does for her and she's okay with it.

▪︎ Raian as an assassin he earns so much more than her .

▪︎ Surprisingly though; I think Raian do have great taste , basic, clean with a twist. He never shops he only goes online to certain stores picks something he likes throw it at his sister face and still calling her a bitch 🤣

▪︎ Christmas and Gifts : let's not be delulus , Raian purposely choose a mission to get away from all the gatherings that annoys the shit of him.

▪︎ he comes back and he has gifts laying on his bed, he secretly gets excited and has a tiny little smile.

▪︎ he would probably receive a gift from Fusui, Holies, karura, the school girl crush who still with a hope and I guess few more from the close clan relatives, his mom will try to hug him but Lord his eyes and the way he'd look at her sents her back to her seat ...

I hope you enjoyed it 🤗😚

#kenganverse #kengan ashura #kengan omega #kengan ashura imagines #raian kure #kure raian #ohma tokita #tokita ohma #the devil

38 notes · View notes

s0urw00lf · 1 year

Text

Protectors- magic bullet

Derek hale x reader

Hi ok so this took so long to wright omg, anyway I hope you like it there's not a lot of moments between Derek and reader but I added a more at the end

Ps (Her healing looks much like Derek’s except the color.)

Y/n stood behind Derek as he bent down looking at a drop of blood. “Do you know whose it is?” She whispered, bending down behind him. “No, it’s like the scent is covered” he whispered back. The pair heard something causing them to look around on high alert. Y/ns senses were more heightened than Derek’s in times like these. Y/n turned her head forward seeing the alpha climb the side of the building across from them. Seeing this she sprinted towards it assuming Derek was right behind her, she was right. She knew when she saw Derek running right beside her jumping over objects trying to catch up to the alpha. They climbed to the roof of a random building and Derek sniffed the air trying to catch its scent while y/n tried tracking its energy. Y/n jumped to the next roof about to start running after the alpha again but before she could a gunshot rang through the air causing her to turn to where the sound came from only to see Derek fall back and off the roof. Y/n quickly ran to the edge of the roof and muttered a spell to somewhat break his fall.

Once y/n saw that he was on the ground and alive she jumped off the roof using the same spell she used on Derek to break her fall. Once she landed she ran to Derek who was perched up against a random building. “Damn it Derek” she whispered shouted as she reached him falling down to her knees lifting up his sleeve to see the bullet wound letting out some sort of a blue smoke. Derek’s face winced in pain as he leaned his head back against the building. “Here let me try and take some of the pain” she whispered, grabbing his arm but before she could mutter the spell Derek’s other hand slapped hers away “no don’t you're gonna use too much energy.” He huffed out. Y/n looked at him as if the was the dumbest thing she had ever heard “you do know it is my job to protect the people I live and you are at the very top of the list right?” She asked before putting her hand right back in the place it was causing him to glare at her. “Glare all you want to wolf man we’re not leaving until you let me take some of your pain away” she said muttering a spell causing her eyes to glow the vibrant purple and purple lines began to flow up hers and Derek’s arm. His tense body relaxed at the feeling of relief. “Come on we gotta go before whoever shot you comes to finish off the job” she said before helping the wounded werewolf up.

Time skip————

It is now the next day school had just let out and Derek and y/n met at the back of the school. “So did you find him?” She asked Derek who was very ill looking. He leaned up against the school building “no” he huffed “did you?” He asked. Yn sighed worried “no but I did find out he’s going out to Allison’s today, she may have the bullet in her house, considering Kate’s here” she mumbled the last part but she knew Derek heard her. “What?” His head shot up at this. “Oh nothing, just your physic ex-girlfriend is in town. No biggie” y/n sassed finding her nails interesting. She then shook her head and helped Derek up as he now could barely walk without any assistance. “Whatever we’ll talk about this when you're not on the brink of death, plus school just let out so they should be in the parking lot” she said. When they reached the Parking lot they stopped right in the middle of the road when Derek unexpectedly collapsed bringing y/n with him. She heard a tire screech and a ‘Jesus these guys are everywhere’ coming from inside she immediately knew it was stiles and she let out a breath of relief. “Der you gotta try and control your shift if not that then your eyes” she whispers as Scott and stiles came running from beside stiles jeep “what are you doing here” Scott asked. “I was shot” Derek said, breathing heavily. “He’s not looking so good dude” stiles says to Scott

“He can't, I've been trying to heal him all night, it was a different kind of bullet” y/n spoke up from behind him. She was behind Derek keeping him upright. “A silver bullet?” Stiles asked, leaning forward a bit. “No you idiot” “wait, wait, that’s what she meant when she said you have 48 hours” Scott said in recollection. “Wha- who said that” y/n asked, her voice stern. “The person who shot him” Scott replied. Before y/n could say anything Derek’s body tensed and his eyes shifted again. Scott looked around in panic “what are you doing stop that” he said. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you, I can’t” Derek growled. “Derek, get up” Scott commanded. People around them started to get impatient honking their horns ready to leave the school.

Stiles helped Scott lift Derek off of y/n and put him in stiles jeep. Y/n grabbed Scott’s arm “Scott I need you to find out what bullet she used” y/n commanded voice stern. “How the hell am I supposed to do that?” Scott asked. Derek spoke up from the jeep “she’s an argent, she’s with them”. Scott looked at Derek “why should I help you, y/n I’d help but why you?” He asked. At this y/n pushed Scott’s shoulder back becoming defensive “because you need him I can only teach you so much, but if he dies, I will kill you myself, and it will be a slow and very painful death” she threatened. “Find the goddamn bullet” she ordered. Scott looked at her for a second “fine, I’ll try”. At this y/n smiled and patted his shoulder muttering ‘good choice’ and got into the jeep and stiles took off. Stiles drove impatiently as he called Scott repeatedly. He turned to Derek “hey- try not to bleed out on my seats okay? We’re almost there”he says. Y/n perks up at this and Derek asks the same question she was about to ask “almost where?”. Stiles sighed and looked at y/n through the rear view mirror and said “to your house”. “What no you can’t take me there” Derek says. At this y/n looks at him in confusion “wha- I can’t take you to your house?” Stiles asked as if he had just heard the dumbest thing in the world. “Not if I can’t protect myself” he said “umm excuse me?” Yn spoke up from the back “I can’t leave you to protect us both y/n” Derek says rolling his eyes “hun I’m literally made to protect multiple beings at once… it’s my job, but if it makes you feel better fine” she mumbled the last part.

Stiles speaks up from the driver's seat aggravated “so what happens if Scott doesn’t find your little magical bullet hmm? Are you dying? '' he said, waving his unoccupied hand. “No I have a last resort” he said. This was news to y/n so she leaned forward “care to fill me in on it” she asked as Derek pulled up his sleeve. Upon seeing the wound stiles gagged in disgust turning the car engine off “oh my g- is that contagious? You know what you should probably just get out.” He said disgusted using his arm to cover the view of the wound. “Start the car” Derek growled. “I don't think you should be barking orders with the way you look, okay? In fact, I think, if I wanted to, I could probably drag your little Werewolf ass out into the middle of the road and leave you for dead.” Stiles threatened with a boost of confidence. Y/n sat back entertained by her boyfriend and brother bickering with each other. “Start the car or I’m gonna rip your throat out… with my teeth '' Derek threatened. Y/n almost laughed out loud at the look on stiles face as he cranked up the engine. Y/n sat for a second before a sharp pain pierced her brain causing her to let out a gasp and pulled into a vision.

“Y/n” she heard her voice being called as she looked at her surroundings but she couldn’t see anything just plain white. “Who’s there?” Y/n said taking a defensive stance ready for anything. “Calm down child” the voice said. “Who are you? What do you want from me?” She asked. “Y/n I’ve been waiting to speak with you, your mind is very strong” the voice said. “Yeah it’s like that for a reason, who are you?” She asked again, still looking around, “I don't have a lot of time, your mind will only allow it for so long, listen, protect those around you. But don’t get pulled into ill intentions.” The voice said. “What the hell does that mean?” She asked. “Language” the voice said slightly louder. “Sorry?” Y/n said. “What does that mean? Who around me has ill intentions.” She asked. “Don’t let the need for power cloud your judgment” the voice said. Y/n shook her head confused just as she was about to ask another question she was pulled out of the vision

When she opened her eyes she saw stiles pulling into the animal clinic, “what the hell are we doing here” she asked. “Scott told me to take you here, never mind that, what the hell happened to you?” Stiles asked. “A vision?” She replied looking down thinking about what the voice said . “You get visions?” He asked surprised. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had one but this one was different” hearing this Derek turned to her and asked “different how?” before she shook her head dismissing what he had just asked and got out of the jeep and helping Derek out and into the vet.

Once settled Derek took his shirt off making stiles Gag once again at his wound “okay, you know, that really doesn’t look like anything some echinacea and a good nights sleep couldn’t take care of” he said covering his view of the wound y/n was looking around for anything that could possibly help Derek “if the infection reached his heart it’ll kill him” she said opening a drawer filled with herbs. “Positivity just isn’t in your vocabulary is it?” He asked exasperatedly. “If he doesn’t get the bullet in time- last resort” Derek said, looking like a small gust of wind could knock him out. Y/n turned towards him still not aware of this “last resort” so she asked “you ever plan on letting me know what this ‘last resort’ is?” While folding her arms. “What she said” Stiles said, mentioning to the girl behind him. Derek pulled a tool out and placed it on the table “your gonna cut my arm off” he huffed. At this the two groaned stiles in distress and y/n in annoyance.

“What if you bleed to death” y/n heard a very faint heartbeat getting louder. She walked out of the room and to the entrance of the clinic she saw Scott on his bike. At the sight y/n let out a breath of relief abt he had been holding in since Derek had been shot but she was still afraid that it wouldn’t work. Scott jumped off his bike and ran through the door of the clinic “Y/N? STILES?” He yelled y/n grabbed his arm and pulled him into the room where stiles was holding the tool to Derek’s arm “I leave for five seconds!” Y/n yelled, taking the tool from stiles. Stiles sighs in relief “oh thank god” he says “you just prevented a lifetime of nightmares”.

Derek looks at Scott “did you get it?” He asked and Scott pulls out a bullet and gives it to Derek who immediately it’s the tip off and pours the gunpowder on the table before collapsing to the ground. Y/n ran to Derek's side and stiles to the other “oh god is he dead” stiles yelled in distress. “No he passed out you idiot” she said, placing her hand on his chest to send a to his heart hoping it would wake him up and it did. Derek sat up immediately and stood up using the table to keep himself stable. He grabbed a lighee and put the flame up to the powder and blue smoke evaporated from the powder making the powder now available to heal Derek so he took it in his hand and put it into his wound making him from to the ground writhing in pain while shifted. Y/n found the sight hot but she wouldn’t comment on it… right now.

After about seven seconds Derek was finally healed and the color returned back to his face. When y/n saw that he was completely healed she went to hug Derek but Scott cut her off ranting about Allison and the argents making y/n roll her eyes and groan “am I ever gonna get my boyfriend back to myself” she mumbled leaving the two. Stiles followed behind the girl and asked if she needed a ride soon after hearing Derek was taking Scott somewhere. The girl took his offer and let him drive her home where she waited about an hour for Derek to return.

Y/n was standing in the mirror when Derek entered the room sighing. “You left” he said. “Yeah well you had a date with Scotty boy and I was tired so…” she replied turning towards the man “a date huh?” He teased grabbing her hips pulling her closer to him smirking. “Yes, a date” she said, biting back a smile. They stared in each other's eyes for a second before Derek leaned down and kissed y/n softly. She bought her arms to wrap around his neck kissing back. He pulled away, putting his forehead to hers. She smiled looking into the green eyes that she had grown to love so deeply “I was really worried you know” she said. “I know, but I also know that you won’t let anything happen to me” he said, meaning every word. And he was right, y/n would give her own life to save anyone she loved, especially him. “Let’s get some sleep, after you take a shower because you stink, stiles wasn’t lying” she said the last part before running out of the room knowing the mention of stiles aggravates Derek because in his words ‘I have had enough of stiles for a lifetime’. About an hour later Derek entered the room with his hair wet and in sweats. “It seems like you’ve been shirtless all day.” Y/n teased. Derek payed down next to y/n “don’t act like you don’t like seeing me shirtless.” He said. “Oh no I love seeing you shirtless, you should have seen yourself when you were healing” she said, raising her eyebrows smiling. Derek turned towards her in astonishment “are you saying I’m hot when I’m in pain?” He asked smirking “whaaat nooo I would never” y/n said dragging out her words. “I was in pain y/n!” He said incredulously. “I know but I can’t help it… you were flexing your muscles and everything” she said sheepishly “go to sleep” Derek said still in disbelief making y/n let out a laugh. “Ok seriously I’m tired goodnight der” she said and he replied with a good night.

@bellabadacadabra

#teen wolf #teen wolf x reader #derek hale #stiles stilinski #derek hale x reader #scott mccall #stiles stilinski x reader #x reader #scott mccall x reader #s0urw00lf #protectors/derek hale #lydia martin #peter hale #chris argent #kate argent #allison argent #jackson whittemore

359 notes · View notes

loststarphounix · 3 months

Note

imagine... little red riding hood souda x big bad wolf tanaka-

instead of kazuichi going to see his grandma like the original story — he's visiting his sick friend, hajime, who he wants to surprise with a fresh batch of muffins that he baked himself! and then during his journey, he comes across the big bad wolf himself :0

this is super open-ended because i have little creativity atm-

(i saw art on pixiv about this and i just thought to tell you about it xD)

I hope we already know the drill! Long post ahead let’s go!

Let’s see:

Kazuichi lives in a cottage that’s attached to a smithy semi on the outskirts of the village. He mainly does commission work, primarily metalworking, but he does has a knack for toy making and secretly bakes but only shares with his friends. He hasn’t heard from Hajime in a while and after hearing from Nagito that he’s sick, decides to take him a basket of day old bake goods and go visit him.

Unfortunately, Hajime likes his privacy and as such, he lives in the middle of Jobberwock Forest, a dark, dense wood that stretches nearly 2/3 of the largest island in the cluster. Most spots in the forest that are perpetual night, where the Sun barely peeks through the dense foliage. Basically, it’s scary as hell. But Hajime is Kazuichi’s best friend - his soul brother - and he’s ill. He’ll venture into the deep, dark, evil embodiment of all things sinister forest to get to him.

So he gets ready, with his basket of muffins, apples and some leftover medicine from when he got food poisoning, as well as a book so his friend isn’t bored (he borrowed it but found his dull lol) and of course, his trusty outside wrench and pocket knife. He puts on his vibrant yellow hood, locks his home up and sets out for the wood. He’s SUPER careful to stay on the trail - like he’s habitually looking down and behind him to make sure he’s in the middle of the safe path. The woods always seem to change everyday, Sonia loves to say that it has a mind of its own which does nothing to sooth his frazzle nerves.

He’s been walking since the late morning and thinks about taking a rest, when he hears a twig snapping. The sound it so loud it makes him jump. He turns to where he thinks it originated from, but another loud sound is coming from behind him and he whips around to see two red eyes staring at him in the shadows. Gripped in panic, Kazuichi turns tail and runs, leaving the safety of the path. Our bumbling boy is booking it - somehow not tripping on upturn roots until finally he’s in a clearing a few miles southwest of his friend’s home.

He’s so exhausted that he collapses onto the nearest stump, unaware of the hulking figure behind him. The basket wobbles a bit on the ground, but it doesn’t topple over so he breathlessly calls that a win.

“Good day.” A voice says behind him and it makes Kazuichi jump like a startled cat. He snatches his knife as he moves.

He whips around and sees, possibly the hottest guy he’s ever seen. Tall, Kazuichi has to tilt his head up slightly to look him in the eye, with pale skin and dual red and grey eyes. And wearing all black clothing aside from a purple cloth wrapped around his neck. The guy even had a scar over the grey one. Hot, but most definitely a thief.

“I-I don’t have any money!” He says, hoping the other will let him go, but the other only tilts his head.

“Apologies, I did not mean to frighten you, mortal. I rarely see one of your denizens venture this far into the dark wood.”

Kazuichi can only blink. Ok…maybe he wasn’t a thief. More likely a nutcase. Pity, dude was kinda hot.

“uh…yeah. I got spooked by a giant animal and ran.” Looking around the are, he realized in growing horror that nothing looked familiar. He doesn’t even seem to notice that the guy is staring at him intently, eyes zeroing in on him sucking his bottom lip between sharp teeth before speaking. Or the way his eyes trailed down the length of his body in interest.

“You are greatly fortunate this day, Persephone. I was reared in these very lands and can navigate you to the more safer paths.”

He didn’t really understand all of that, but the stranger seemed to want to help him and despite his suspicions, he was lost. Maybe he could trust the weirdo, just this one time.

“Really? And you won’t…like do anything bad? To ,e?” He squeaked, hand gripping his knife.

But the stranger merely shakes his head. “Not at all. I, the great Gundham Tanaka, ensures your safety through these dark wood,”

“Gundham.” Kazuichi silently mouthed, eyebrows furrowed. Tale and creepy had such a weird ass name. But he’s gonna help him out so he may as well put it aside for now.

Shaking his head, he places his knife carefully back in his basket and bends down to retrieve it. Again, he somehow misses the look Gundham gives his bent form and the slight peek of tongue running across his bottom lip. The man is damn near salivating lol

“My name’s Kazuichi’s by the way. It’s nice to meet you.” The pink haired man flashed a nervous smile, which the other returned with more ease and a bit something that makes Kazuichi’s stomach flip.

“I believe I am the more fortuitous between the two of us.”

They begin backtracking through the woods and as they do, Gundham gently starts to ask Kazuichi questions - what does he do, where does he live, does he live alone. Simple questions. Nothing untowards or suspicious about them.

And Kazuichi answers each one truthfully, not really mindful of his answers because the forest is much darker than it was when he had started and having the other by his side eases him. He also asks Gundham a bit about himself as a distraction, but the man deflects; only reiterating that he grew up in the Jobberwock Forest, that he has lived there all his life and that he’ll keep Kazuichi safe.

Finally, they are in more familiar territory and the path unfurls before them. Tears of relief well in Kazuichi’s eyes. He’s so happy he could kiss the dirt road. Just before he can kneel down and actually do it however, Gundham pinches the sleeve of neon yellow hood to get his attention.

“You had mentioned your comrade has fallen to a malignant force, correct?”

“Huh? Oh yeah! Hajime’s sick.” He almost forgot his friend for a moment what with his fear of the forest and this mysterious man. “I should hurry to his house before it gets dark.” Being out here at night was so much scarier than being out in the daylight.

“Fret not, you will ensursedly arrive at your destination before the dying light of the sun. I merely asked, for do you see these fauna?”

Gundham pointed to a patch of flowers. They were small, with white petals and tall, thin stalks that bent towards a shaft of sunlight. Kazuichi’s eyebrows furrowed, but he gave a slight nod.

“These are medicinal plants.” The man informed, giving the other a charming smile. “They can assist in curing your friend. Merely steep in a concoction of tea and he shall be remedied!”

Kazuichi stared at the flowers, eye wide with disbelief. “Seriously?! But they’re all over the place!”

“This glade is their preferred choice for germination. You should collect them before you go.”

“Right!” Kazuichi took a step closer to the flowers but stopped, peaking over his shoulder to look back at Gundham with an awkward smile. “Hey, thanks again for helping me back on the path. I’m sure I took you away from something important-“

But Gundham merely waved his hand, dismissing the notion. “Do not fret, it was far more important to ensure your safe return. Sadly, I do have some business to conclude, and must leave you here. I can assume you know the way to your companion’s domicile from here?”

“Yeah everything looks a lot familiar now. I should get to Hajime’s hut in a half hour or so.” Kazuichi nodded, giving one last smile in gratitude before setting off to pick a few of the plants. He calls out one last time. “Thanks again man. I really owe you!”

As the mechanic bent down, Gundham retreated into the shadows, his eyes ensuring the other was too engrossed picking flowers, before he transformed into his wolf form and raced through the forest. He knew the quickest way to Hajime’s home, and in his quadrupedal form, he made it there in just under ten minutes. Barely skidding to a halt, he just had enough time to change back before Hajime opens his door.

He only looks a little pale, but he’s standing up straight and his breathing wasn’t labored. Excellent, this soothes his fretting mind somewhat.

“Singularity! I require a boon.”

“Hello to you too, Gundham.” Hajime chuckles, inviting the other in. “It must be important- you rarely ask me for anything.”

Crossing the threshold, Gundham wasted no time retelling his encounter with the most entrancing creature he has ever met, going on about his aura and mystical powers for surely he could not be a mere mortal if Gundham, Overlord of Ice and Ruler of these Woods, is so successfully ensnared. And through it all Hajime listens, a little bemused, but actively listening to his rants.

“I’ve been meaning to have Kazuichi meet you, but you usually keep to yourself.”

“My boon is thus: depart from your realm so that I may have succeeded in completing our courtship! In return, I shall assist you in your own quest for romantic endeavors.”

Hajime blinks, stunned. “Hold on. You want me to leave my house, just so you can make a move on my best friend?”

Well, when put like it sounds unsavory. Gundham fiddles with his scarf, a hot flush spreading down his neck.

“And I don’t need help in my love life thanks,” he said sardonically. How about this: I give you my home for the night - only tonight! - and whatever happens, happens. But you owe me by helping around my property and hunting. Whatever he brings in his basket that he made are mine. And you stay away from my bedroom.” The last sentence was said with such severity that if he were a lesser demon, Gundham would quiver.

Instead he chuckles, a low, dark sound that would seem threatening to anyone outside their friendship, but was really one of agreement.

“Very well mortal! I accept your bargain.”

Hajime takes entirely too long in Gundham’s opinion to pack an overnight bag, but he departs and Gundham prepares for the mechanics arrival. He already ensured Hajime’s personal abode was sealed (Hajime locked it) and that Kazuichi would not be suspicious of the changes dwellings (Hajime wrote a note explaining). Now he only had little left to disguise his aura and appearance. The borrowing of Hajime’s night shirt and pants and pulling the shades down in the guest room shall do the trick.

And now, with infinite patience, he awaits his prey.

25 notes · View notes