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blkkizzat · 9 months

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ꨄ︎『Sneaky Links』ꨄ︎ (PART 1)

Sukuna x Reader (Mentions of Yuji x Reader)

18+ Minors - DNI

PART 1 of 2

Summary: Y/N is a dickmatized manipulative brat. Sukuna is Sukuna. Poor sweet Yuji is collateral damage. CW: cheating, rough play, unprotected sex, spit play, brat taming, spanking, pussy slapping, manipulation, fingering, anal play, edging, tit job, blow job, slight dubcon, sukuna being toxic, y/n thinking with her pussy not her brain (but it’s hard not to when you got that wet wet). WK: 3.1k of 8.5k Slightly Black female coded but no descriptors.

A/N: All I do is eat hot chip and bump Spotify so nearly everything I write has song(s) that goes with it.

Sukuna POV: I Mean It - G-Eazy (this mv is so unsrs but I'm criiiine imagining Sukuna as G-Eazy in this video lmfao) Reader POV: You Right - Doja Cat (not like Sukuna couldn't be The Weeknd POV here but he's so much more of an asshole than that)

Enjoy!

‘2:37 AM’. Fuck.

You had to stop looking at the clock, it was only making you more restless. Usually sleep came to you easily as the peaceful dark of your room and light snores coming from your boyfriend Yuji would lull you into a comforting slumber each night.

You sighed.

Your head lay on Yuji’s chest and his arm was loosely draped around your waist. This has become your typical sleeping position since moving in with each other. You have only been living together for over a little over a month now. But living with Yuji was great, even if your apartment was smaller than you would have liked.

Despite the both of you being full fledged sorcerers and risking your lives constantly, exorcizing curses didn’t pay the best salary. You wanted something bigger but it was cheap enough to allow the both of you to save for something much better down the line.

It was Yuji who had mentioned that fact to you, to both console your protests and to hint at more promises for the future. That had been enough to make you giddy and you would have agreed to live in a closet if it meant you could be together.

Sure, Yuji could be a little clueless at times but he always tried his best to make you happy. The two of you rarely had any disagreements even when you were being a stubborn brat. His easy going nature took your faults in stride, meeting your needs without complaint.

Yuji was always doing sweet things for you like waking up a bit earlier so you could drink your coffee (that he always burnt) in bed. He would shower you with soft kisses to coax you awake with a wide grin and a whispered ‘good morning’ that made you feel warm just remembering it.

You really couldn’t ask for a better boyfriend.

You were happy with Yuji.

You love him and are very happy with Yuji.

Sigh.

So then why exactly is your mind torturing you with thoughts of the cursed object inside your boyfriend taking control of his body and fucking you dumb into the mattress?

You caught yourself unconsciously chewing your lip in nervous anticipation.

Your mind couldn’t allow you to sleep because it was filled with Sukuna, The King of Curses and every jujutsu sorcerer’s sworn enemy.

Your enemy.

How could you let it come to this?

You felt guilty but it’s not like you had asked for this to start happening. That said, you made no real attempts to stop Sukuna thus far from showing up to fuck you before disappearing again like a thief in the night.

Rode hard and put away wet, he used you on his whims and it had been happening more frequently ever since the first week after you and Yuji moved-in together.

The fateful night it started was the night of your housewarming party, ironically enough.

You honestly didn't even want a damned housewarming, you recalled looking back. You thought it was impractical and a bit embarrassing to throw a housewarming for such a small flat.

Everyone would be on top of each other the entire night.

But Gojo had insisted, promising to supply the drinks and food which automatically had Yuji on board, so you just gave in. Anything to get Gojo out of your hair and seeing Yuji so excited made you smile.

The housewarming itself went well until the six eyed sorcerer had suggested a ‘friendly’ drinking game. All which would have been fine if Gojo hadn’t brought over what he called Reggae Punch.

However, it wasn’t the standard recipe of peach liqueur and oolong tea you could find in any Tokyo bar. The dark orange drink Gojo concocted was a heavy mixture of actual punch and different liquors that you couldn’t identify until you were already 2 cups in.

The son of a bitch. He had literally tricked y’all into drinking Jungle Juice.

You were already faded as hell by the time the game started so you eliminated yourself early on purpose.

Yuji, who was a good boy and never even took a sip of alcohol until he was legal earlier this year, actually thought he stood a chance at winning against his seniors. He foolishly joined-in with earnestness.

Rolling your eyes at the memory, the night ended as expected. Yuji was beyond shitfaced.

His head hung heavy and was barely still on the low chabudai table by the time Nanami (the winner) had dragged a drunken Gojo out of your apartment, who was still singing songs from the pricey digital karaoke machine he had gifted the both of you earlier in the night.

Maki and Yuta, sensible enough to stop drinking early like you, had already left.

Meaning Nobara, Inumaki and Megumi, all pretty lit themselves, had the near impossible task of dragging Panda home which you did not envy.

With everyone gone, getting Yuji into bed proved a far easier feat than expected.

You had left him some ibuprofen and pedialyte on the nightstand and a small bin next to the bed just in case he woke up and felt sick. You really didn’t mind taking care of your boyfriend who always took such good care of you.

You just wished it didn’t have to be this night. This night when you realized for the first time that mixing that much alcohol in large quantities just went straight to your pussy.

Pleasing yourself usually wasn’t an issue but after you pulled the second yet still unsatisfying orgasm from yourself is when Sukuna had made his appearance chuckling at your failed attempts.

Admittedly, you were terrified at first.

You had been dating Yuji for two years but Sukuna didn’t often show himself and he had never even addressed you directly before. It was dangerously easy to forget the most powerful evil sorcerer in existence was residing rent free inside your bf’s soul.

Nevertheless, you were hard up for a real release at that moment. A cloud of lust fogged your brain and it didn’t take much goading at all for your legs to spread like a warm jelly for The Curse King.

And he did not disappoint.

Sukuna’s sharp tongue flooded your ears with degrading praises sending electricity through your body that settled in your core where the even sharper strokes of his hips corrupted you from the inside out.

All your senses utterly stupefied, you came hard. You made a mess on him, yourself and your sheets.

And that was only round one.

Sukuna had near limitless stamina.

The next morning, achy and sore, you could barely look Yuji in the eye. You were preparing to beg for his forgiveness but you quickly realized he barely remembered the party, let alone what happened after.

In fact, it made you feel even more guilty that Yuji apologized to you. He was mad at himself for being so rough with you when he noticed the bites, bruises and marks that decorated your body thinking you both actually had sex the previous night.

You were the worst.

You really were the worst as truthfully, if you told him in that moment, he likely would have forgiven you then without question.

It’s not like you alone could stop Sukuna from doing anything he wanted to you while Yuji was unaware. You were a semi-grade 1 sorcerer, strong enough for most curses, but you would be kidding yourself to think you could take on Sukuna in a fight.

In fact wouldn’t the issue of Sukuna being able to take over Yuji’s body freely while he was unconscious be a much more pressing concern rather than how many times the curse king had made you squirt?

Yet in spite of the danger, the logic and your better judgment, you were too ashamed to tell Yuji what really happened.

That was because subconsciously a part of you knew it could happen again.

And it did.

Many times.

Except for tonight.

Sukuna had yet to make his appearance tonight.

In fact, he hadn’t shown up in the last 5 nights in a row. The longest you had gone without his dick since he started toying with you.

You recalled you had snapped at him after his last visit when his insults had started swaying from you to Yuji and his inability to please you. You told him never to visit you again and threatened to tell Yuji if he did.

Honestly you didn’t expect your threats to do much. They hadn’t previously.

As much as you wanted to be relieved that maybe Sukuna had finally grown sick of dealing with ‘Yuji’s bratty pillow princess’, a name he often called you while digging deep in your guts, you weren’t relieved at all.

If anything it annoyed you.

He hadn’t listened when you told him to leave you alone the first, second or third time so why now?

Why now after your cunt has started craving the burn of being stretched out by Sukuna?

You shiver, thinking of his heavy grip on the fat of your hips. His claws would be so dangerously close to breaking your delicate skin.

He constantly reminded you how easily he could rip you apart if he wanted to while he relentlessly clapped your cheeks from behind.

Near salivating, you snapped your head up a little too eagerly for your own liking when you felt Yuji stir beneath you thinking it was Sukuna and more than a little disappointed when it wasn’t.

You knew Yuji’s tender caresses should have made you melt, and it still did in a way. You were still in love with him.

But it wasn’t until Sukuna tainted you did you realize you didn’t want to be treated like a delicate princess.

You wanted to be manhandled.

You wanted to be made a mess of.

You wanted to be called names like the filthy cheating whore you were currently proving yourself to be. But Yuji was too tenderhearted to ever fuck you like you needed.

Squeezing your eyes shut as if you could block out all thoughts, you knew the reason you couldn't get to sleep was because you were horny for Sukuna.

The higher the heat in your belly rises the more sleep becomes impossible. Your clit burned in response to the heat in your belly which made your pussy flutter as it desperately clenched around nothing and pushed some of Yuji’s cum from earlier in the night out onto your thighs.

In that moment, all your resolve was lost.

Yuji was simply the appetizer and you were a famished woman. Still left starving for the main course.

Sukuna.

You swallow, unsure of yourself as you attempt to steel your resolve. You had already resigned yourself to the hell Sukuna put you in.

You turn your head deeper into Yuji’s chest and whisper softly against his pectorals, fingers lightly tracing his lower abs under the blankets.

“Yo…um.. Hey…Hey Sukuna… c-can you hear me?”

Silence.

You tried again. Nothing.

You huff, your patience waning.

“Damnit, Sukuna!” you whisper harshly, your voice rising slightly with irritation.

You waited more.

The only reply you received was the rise and fall of Yuji’s chest.

You were seeing red.

This lame ass motherfucker.

Was that it? Was he really done with you now after all this?

Slowly rising off of Yuji’s chest you glare down at your boyfriend as if you could somehow scowl past his body and into his soul at Sukuna.

You quietly mutter to yourself about ‘the headass lord king of body snatching curses who gots more dick in his personality than pants’ while you shuffle over to the night stand on the side of the bed.

You turn on the small light and dig deep into the drawers to pull out a toy you saved for nights you were particularly hard up and Yuji was out on a mission.

Sukuna may have been ignoring you but you could no longer ignore the throbbing screaming at you between your legs.

Maybe if you rubbed one out you could calm yourself down enough just enough to cease your anger at least.

You needed to make an attempt to relieve yourself before you really lost your mind and did something insane like knocking the mario coins out of your sweet unsuspecting boyfriend in frustration at the curse inside of him.

He didn’t deserve that.

Not like he deserved any of this, the curse inside of him nor a girlfriend like you who would spread her legs so easily for a cocky smirk and a big dick.

You closed your eyes and pushed that thought aside for now. You were sweating and near shaking in need of release.

Making yourself comfortable on the bed, you turn your vibrator on its lowest setting, so as not to disturb Yuji.

Dragging it across your skin, you snake a path for it down past your breasts, across your belly and lower still relishing the sensations across your body.

Licking your lips you barely ghosted your vibrator across your clit before a hand grabbed your wrist and another flung your toy across the room instantly smashing it into pieces.

“You really are a bratty fucking whore, you know that?”

The voice you immediately recognized as belonging to Sukuna.

And how could it not be?

It was more sultry than Yuji’s. The deep bass in his voice both teased and admonished you causing your aching clit pulsate to the rhythm of every syllable.

“As your King, I don’t recall giving you permission to touch that nasty little cunt, bitch.”

You whined in protest and attempted to pull away but it was futile in Sukuna's grip. You could feel the fire from his touch on your wrist alone beginning to spread and torch your entire body.

Exceeding the levels of any sexual frustration you ever knew in your life, his further denial to let you touch yourself threatened to spill the tears gathering in the corner of your eyes.

“I don’t recall asking you, my lord,” you spat his words back at him without thinking, “I’d ask you if you knew you were a trifling asshole but we-”

And in an instant he was on top of you.

His tattooed hands now hold both of your wrists, placing them up over your head effectively caging you in and shutting you up before you could even finish your sentence.

Your eyes widen in response to the hot snarl of his breath and the red of his glowing eyes burrowing into you.

The reality of who exactly you just decided to sass sunk in.

Sukuna on the other hand revels in your dismay.

“‘Eh? Triflin’” he said, mocking your tone and slang. “Me? Not the filthy slut who is begging me to use her boyfriend’s body to dick her down while he is sleeping? Then you have the fucking nerve to throw temper tantrums when I don’t.”

Fuck, he had heard your insults from earlier after all.

“You think a bratty bitch like you can summon me on your whims and so address me so casually at that? I’ve killed many for far less.”

He was close now, too close.

However, although hovering over you Sukuna still wasn’t touching you with the exception of the bruising grip on your wrists.

Despite the lack of contact your body still responded to the suffocating amount of heat and cursed energy radiating off his own. The intense primal instincts of your fear and arousal brewing together in your body was creating a toxic reaction, one which threatened to tear you apart if Sukuna didn’t first.

Your lip was quivering and your body was squirming beneath him.

You are completely at his mercy once again.

“And Yuji?” Sukuna continued mockingly.

His face dipped closer to yours and you let out the shaky breath you weren’t even aware you were holding.

“You’re so needy after he already gave you this dick tonight too? Tsk tsk, you really are a brazen n’ greedy whore.”

He was wrong.

Not about you being a whore, of course. You couldn’t deny that fact even if you wanted to at the moment.

But he was wrong by implying it was the same as if you were with Yuji.

When Sukuna took over, except for facial similarities, he was all but a different person.

Sukuna was taller, more muscular and thicker in all areas, his cock not being excluded from that. The tattoos that decorated his body and bound his dangerous muscles caused him to look more intimidating than Yuji ever could.

Even his scent was different. It was almost as threatening as his presence and was intoxicatingly masculine, more alpha.

You knew fighting him further was a losing battle. But you were still mad at him for ignoring you.

Nevertheless, he was here in front of you now.

You were so close to getting what you wanted. If you had to give up more of your dignity at this point then so be it, you didn’t have much left to covet anyway.

Completely surrendering yourself to him like the little bitch in heat that you were, you appeal to his ego in hopes he would fuck you.

“If you know I’m a whore then just fuck me like one already Sukuna. My King… please? Pretty please? I-I need you. Make me cum please.”, your saccharine tone contrasted with your depraved pleas coming out like a twisted prayer.

You humbled yourself and hated it. It broke the tears of frustration that had built in your eyes.

Moisture spilled down the sides of your face, yet you blinked through them in order to maintain eye contact with him.

The desperation that called to him from every fiber of your being was apparent to Sukuna, his smirk widening at your distress.

Releasing your hands in favor of your neck, a hand enclosed it applying pressure as he licked a tear trail down the side of your face.

“Tch, Even when desperate and begging you still can’t help but to be an insolent brat”, he whispered, blowing warm air into you that made you tingle.

That’s when you felt his tongue salaciously lick into your ear before pulling back to bite and suck at your lobe and neck, leaving more marks for you to try to cover in the morning.

The full weight of Sukuna’s naked body was now pressed upon yours. You whimpered as he had finally granted you the contact you craved for.

You could feel his heavy cock begin to twitch on your belly. You panted as you arched up into him, rubbing against his form creating beautiful friction between you both sending you into euphoria.

But as quickly as the contact was given, it was taken away.

“You should know by now, Y/N.... Disobedient brats need to be punished.”

Part 2

This was originally supposed to be a one-shot but it got a little out of control with writing the lewd scenes. Part 2 is almost done and is FILTHY omg. I will try to post by tomorrow night or Saturday. (updated as of 9/12).

Lol also for anyone who doesn't know Reggae Punch is actually a popular drink in Japan. I did not make that up. It really doesn't have much alcohol content in it at all. But I LOL'd at Gojo tricking them into drinking Jungle Juice cause its literally night and day.

Also imo, Nanami and his salaryman vibe you know would win a drinking contest out of any JJK man so thats canon to me (excluding Toji as according to official fanbook alcohol has zero effect on him so he doesn't even drink it).

Any mistakes please DM, no rude or criticizing comments please.

P.S. I promise I don't hate Yuji.

Reblogs, likes, comments appreciated!!

© ʙʟᴋᴋɪᴢᴢᴀᴛ 2023. ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛꜱ ʀᴇꜱᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ. ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ꜱᴛᴇᴀʟ, ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ, ᴄᴏᴘʏ ᴏʀ ᴄʜᴀɴɢᴇ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇꜱ ꜰɪᴄꜱ, ᴅʀᴀʙʙʟᴇꜱ, & ɢʀᴀᴘʜɪᴄꜱ. ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴀʀᴇ ᴀʟʟ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ʙʏ ᴍᴇ ᴜɴʟᴇꜱꜱ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀᴡɪꜱᴇ ꜱᴛᴀᴛᴇᴅ. ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ.

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lesoldatmort · 1 year

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| blooming terror |

"I am the death wish...!"

💀 PATREON | IG | FB | Twitter | Shop~

#trigun #trigun stampede #trigun maximum #vash stampede #vash #trigun vash #trigun fanart #fanart #digital illustration #digital art #body horror #dark art #so many emotion y'all #so many #im slowly reading trimax and crying

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wind-becomes-lightning · 2 years

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I'm sorry this is the funniest Reddit thread xD

#german stuff #sorry im on my phone without access to my other account #so it has to go here #im cry laughing in public y'all

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whattheheckmidoriya · 7 months

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Post-war Levi learning how to write with his non-dominant hand by writing you love letters 😌💖

Thank you for your attention 🫶🏼

#ARE Y'ALL FOLLOWING ME ON THIS???#LIKE JUST IMAGINE #HIS HANDWRITING SLOWLY BECOMING MORE CONFIDENT WITH EACH LETTER #AND JUST #🥹🥹🥹#IM CRYING #pau talks #levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #captain levi x reader #captain levi x you

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laiostoudenn · 4 months

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gale and othello, the broken bhaalspawn “only love can save me now”

done by @hrgves

#baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 art #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep art #gale dekarios art #bg3 fanart #baldur's gate 3 art #art #oc: othello nulara #i'm eating my own hands #bg3 oc #y'all im actually crying #bg3 tav

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mikichko · 26 days

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⛔ this blog is 18+ !! minors and ageless blogs please dni ⛔

soulmates au - your scars show up on your soulamtes body cw: angst, implied character death, mentions of injury, this whole thing has a big focus on scars so please approach it carefully

Johnny gets his first scar when he’s just barely 10 years old. It’s not a traditional scar either but something more jagged and rushed. Like someone had been in a hurry to pierce the skin and get through. It’s on his lower right abdomen, a thick horizontal line with three, thinner, evenly spaced lines. Just a few centimeters below there’s another miniscule scar, another horizontal line.

That night he learns about appendicitis. Learns how the dull aches he’d been feeling in his belly were a result of an internal organ failing within. When his parents ask him how long he’d been feeling the dull, ghost-like, aches their eyes widen at his response. His mother immediately dropping to inspect his scar, looking for any sort of color difference that would stand out along his already pale skin.

On that same night Johnny understands that you never want your scars to turn white. Ever.

You’re six when you get your first ghost scar. One that’s not yours but it is in some odd special way. You don’t quite grasp the idea of fate and soulmates yet but, you can understand that someone getting hurt reflects on you.

When you notice the newly adorned scar on your chin you let out a pitiful scream. Your mother rushes to you, thinking you wounded, only to find your small fingers tracing the newly scarred skin. You’re trembling, eyes wet with tears, as you continue to inspect the marked skin.

“Oh sweetie, did your ghost give you a fright?” She reaches for you, hands moving to cradle your face. You’re unable to speak, teeth clenched as you try to such in air. “It’s alright sweetheart, looks like he had a little tumble.” Her fingers press the area around your chin gently, “See how it blends in? That means he’s okay. It probably hurts a little but he’s alright. Don’t you worry”

It still tugs at your little heart to know that your ghost is out there, hurt without any help. What if his momma isn’t there like yours? Or if he’s alone? Will he have someone to help him with the hurt the way your momma does with you?

Your mother brushes your tears away, interrupting your train of thought. She chatters about the birds outside, how she needs your help feeding them, and distracts you from all thoughts about your lonely hurt ghost.

Johnny amasses more scars over the years. Small ones across the bridge of his nose, underneath his left eyebrow, one right above his knee. He even gets the hint of a burn on his left calf. They marr his skin, their color just barely present against his complexion. His mother shakes his head every time she sees him with a new scar, a playful smile on her lips, “Got yourself an active one did you, Johnny?”

He laughs it off, kissing the side of her temple. He thinks of them as gifts, reminders that you’re out there in the world making your way to him. He worries sometimes that you might think him dead, a singular scar on your chin to remind you of him. But he reminds himself that your scars have not yet lost their color, have not become the absence of color just yet.

His newest one comes just as he starts basic training. He’d have missed it if it weren’t for the phantom sting he feels when it comes in. It’s on the back of his foot, a crooked vertical scar running along the fibular bone. He can’t even control the surprised laugh that escapes him. It’s baffling how without having met you yet you manage to entertain him so much. Bringing him so much comfort in having parts of you with him. You’ve even brought him some close friends, your marks a conversation starter for everyone he’s come across.

His fingers trace the scar, warm water pouring over his back as he inspects the new piece of mauled skin. “Oh lass, always a creative one aren’t ye?”

A hiss escapes you before you can register the dull ache on your right bicep. Not one, but two new scars are now companions to the sole scar on your chin.

An entry and exit wound, your mother tells you when you seek her out. Her fingers trace the edges of the new circular scars, eyebrows pulled together as she inspects. You’re barely 17, and not one to seek out trouble, but it seems your partner is. You can see the worry lines etched into her face as she moves her fingers along the slight divot in your newly damaged skin. A gunshot wound, she tells you, clean shot.

Your stomach drops at that, an uneasy feeling coming over you. They, whoever they were, were in danger. One way or another, violence had found it’s way into their lives. You’d had questions before, mostly due to the lack of scarring and whether or not they were alive, but you’ve gotten confirmation now. Not only were they still alive but being harmed. You’re left to wonder whether or not they brought this on themselves. If this shift will bring any other scars.

Sometime after your mother talks with you about the unfortunate ones. About what love looks like for those who lose their ghosts early in life.

You alter Johnny’s flesh a few more times. Three large scars run along the side of his right thigh, right above the knee up until just a few centimeters from the halfway point of his thigh. Phantom ankle pains that he’s gotten familiar with accompany these scars. He laughs when he tells Ghost that you have weak ankles, probably couldn’t last a damn day out there with them. Ghost snorts at him, tells him he needs to focus on making your knees weak instead. Johnny shoves him, “Is exactly why ye get to meet her last. Cannae have you givin’ me a bad reputation.”

Months later you unknowingly bless the team with the happiest Johnny they’ve seen to date. When Gaz inquires he proudly shows off the four new dots that mark his upper left cheek. “They have a cat!” Gaz laughs, ruffling the little tufts of hair that Johnny has. Finally, he gets a small glimpse into your life. He spends the helicopter ride wondering all about you and your feline friend. Names him Chomp and wonders if they’d get along in the end.

The last scars you give Johnny are three tiny pinprick scars along his abdomen. Barely there, Price tells him they’re usually associated with a cholecystectomy, a gallbladder removal. A sense of dread overcomes him as he sits down to read about it, hands absentmindedly rubbing over the new dot on his sternum. It’s the second time that you’ve undergone a major surgery and Johnny can’t escape the distress that settles into his bones.

As he grew he’d learned there was a great chance that you could have passed had your appendectomy not been done in time. None of the other scars had been large enough indicators of anything serious, merely skin wounds. But this, he’s suddenly eighteen again, grappling not only with his own morality but yours as well.

He’s come to terms with the fact he could die long ago, it’s part of the job, but Johnny doesn’t think that he could stomach the idea of dying without meeting you. To go his entire life waiting in anticipation for your stories to never hear them. Never feel your touch, hear your voice, feel your heartbeat, see your face. He’s gotten used to tucking the feeling away. Never letting it bubble up even when pinned down. But in moments like this he’s faced with the reality of it all and he realizes that he’d only ever considered the possibility of him dying first.

Never you.

It’s not a dull ache this time, but a burning sensation across the entirety of your forehead. It feels like someone had stabbed you or seared something into your skin.

You scramble out of your bed, not bothering to turn on the lights, rushing to the bathroom solely by memory. Your skin screams at you in protest and as your hands scramble to turn on the cold water you realize the searing pain isn’t contained to your forehead, but the back of your head as well. Splashing some water on your forehead with one hand, you clumsily look for the light switch with the other. Flipping the switch, you blink rapidly forcing your eyes to adjust as quickly as possible. Your eyes finally focus and instantly you wish they hadn’t.

barely two centimeters in diameter, in the center of your forehead, is a gunshot wound. Your wet hand reaches around to the back of your head, patting around until it finds the sweltering skin there too.

A clean shot.

Your body reacts first, tears already filling your eyes, as you try to process the new markings on your skin. He’s shot, again. In trouble, again. But it’s more than just trouble now, it’s a goddamn headshot. He couldn’t have survived that.

“No.” Your hand reaches for the mirror as if willing the scar to disappear, “No, goddammit, no! I didn’t even-”

The loss of heat along your head makes you freeze, as if staying still will prevent the fate you’ve been dealt. You watch in realtime as the scar settles, blending into your skin, before finally they begin to lose color. On your forehead, chin, and bicep, the three scars turn a colorless shade of white. The final indicator of a soul now passed.

Finally, the tears fall, leaving a wet path behind. Your hands grip the still running sink as you stare into the mirror.

“I didn’t even get a chance to meet you.”

a/n: this scratched my brain so good in the shower so you get it. unedited I just word vomited. smoochies!!!!

star banners by @/saradika

#.txt #.mine #.cod #.soap #this was #yeah y'all have fun LMAO #im sorry we need more soap angst in this jawn #the ending made ME CRY while i was writing it too #again shouts out to nenita for being my first victim #john soap x reader #john soap mactavish #john soap mctavish x reader #soap call of duty #soap x reader

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eddies-house · 1 month

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TW: mentions of bad mental health

im imagining eddie being absolutley taken back when he finds out how people have previously treated you resulting in hesitation when being vulnerable with him.

and he's been through some shit, he's not exactly one to be voluntarily vulnerable either but with the tables turned it's like a moment of oh. like you're hiding from him, muddling your own emotions as a means to keep the peace.

he realizes that coming in strong, asking "what's wrong?" almost too oboxiously like he's previously done, only chases you further into your mind, it only insinuates that there are consquences if you were to answer so rather than being met with honesty, it's always "nothing" followed by forced smiles and sucked back tears that he's regrettably brushed off in those moments, trying to keep you comfortable. but while his intention to ease your chaotic mind by simply moving on had no ill intent, he soon recognizes the harm its caused and the pattern he's assisted in creating.

realizes he takes it far too personal when you shut down on those particularily bad days, thinks it's cause of him, only to contribute to the self destruction taking place in your mind when he continuously begs the questions "what's wrong?" "what do you want me to do?" "what can I do?" "come on, tell me what's wrong". he never understood that he was never the issue but he quickly made himself into one by nearly berating and prodding you with his questions. and then one day he sees it. sees the way your eyes go dull when he asks.

sees the front you put on, "everything's okay" while your lip wobbles. he doesn't take it personal this time, there's nothing distracting him from the obvious signs, the symptoms of broken hearted individual struggling to keep up despite the aches and pains that linger within. its a heartbreak he's so familiar with yet seems to be so blind to in others, thinking he's the only one to experience it, not selfishly but hopefully. so he straightens up and silently tells himself to quit all of his bitching because this is bigger than him, it's not because of him. you need him and he's been too insecure to think that maybe words aren't required, not by you anyway. there is no quick fix, no remedy to just stop the pain like popping an ibprofen or slapping on a bandaid, it just is. raw pain and vulnerability that should be allowed to be felt, not cured.

so this time, he recognizes the wall you put up, just like every other time though it was previously ignored. before he can even say anything, he knows you're anticipating his bombarding questions that have no answer. sees the way you tense up, the slight panic in the way your fingers tremble at the prospect of being figured out. except this time he speaks softly, a shake in his voice because he's terrifed to scare you off once again. says "i love you" then gently wraps you up in his arms, provides a barrier between you and the world you're at war with.

holds you on the kitchen floor, face pressed to his chest with a mixture of tears and snot.

runs his fingers down your spine delicately.

whispers "it's okay" when he knows it is in fact not, only hoping you're able to decipher that he means it's okay that you're not okay, it's okay that it's 1AM and while the world is asleep you're both tangled up on top of crumbs and possible neglected coffee stains

apologizes.

because for all those times you've coaxed him through an unwarranted episode, he's been neglecting you at your worst. not on purpose but it's neglect nontheless. and he knows all about it.

sings under his breath when the sobs have stopped wreaking havoc on your body. quiet hums of a familiar song, you are my sunshine.

tucks you into bed, makes you a late night snack cause he knows your appetite fails you in times like these, kisses your forehead and threads his fingers through your hair.

he's not perfect nor has he ever desired being held to such a high standard. but for you he wants to try.

#im not projecting :')#no way #is this therapy?#crying in the club y'all #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fic #eddie x reader #eddie munson x you

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