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#so i don't take requests for tags for content/trigger warnings
mixelation · 2 months
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OH MY GOD I forgot about the tag system - do you even know how much I scrolled - holy shit I'm in tears - thank you so much btw
oh my god, YES, please use the tags dsjfdjsh
also i guess i do have an "au round-up" post that's like a baby master post here. it has the tags i use + a link to view them chronologically. if you're new or have months of "catching up," the "chrono" view of the tag is probably what you want!!
i do kind of assume anyone chronically on tumblr enough to be following my silly AUs is pretty good at tag usage? but if you're not: i do try my best to tag all my tori AUs so that you can look at every posted in order. make sure the URL shows "/tagged/" rather than "/search/" and you will see everything in the tag in reverse chronological order, plus you can add /chrono/ to see every post in chronological order. afaik chrono only works if you're using a certain view: you have to do like mixelation.tumblr.com/tagged/reborn au/chrono. and i think chrono might just not be on the app? i also do this bc i imagine some people follow me who do not actually care about seven AUs with one OC and might want to blacklist those tags as spam control.
posting random thoughts on an AU out of order and then only writing random scenes is a chaotic way to do it, but using the tag and the /chrono/ function does reduce the chaos a whole bunch
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romaritimeharbor · 2 months
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FAMILY, OF SORTS. — in which kafka, blade, and silver wolf are an odd but quite special found family to be a part of.
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— trigger & content warnings. mentions of unspecified injury.
— pairings & notes. fluff, found family. kafka & teen!reader, blade & teen!reader, silver wolf & teen!reader. 1.3k words. reader is a stellaron hunter. reader is gender neutral (they/them pronouns used).
— author's notes. the sillies <3 APHE POSTING???? APHELION POSTING REAL AND TRUE????????? i had a request for this on my old blog (from my dear beloved moot @starryshinyskies <3) so i decided to finish it 💪 nd tagging @www-brontide since i know you were excited for this post HEHE anyways how are we feeling about this formatting? if you guys don't like it i'm very open to changing it back. i'm just experimenting with my post format is all 🫶
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kafka seems strangely motherly to me. caring and doting in her own unique ways, but also quite strange and odd in those same ways. an enigma of sorts.
she is the kind of person to always send the stellaron hunters' youngest member texts throughout the day; these texts range anywhere from silly and inconsequential to sweet messages letting [name] know that she was thinking about them.
(her doting nature is not dissimilar to how she thinks of and regards the trailblazer... hm.)
KAFKA
My coat got stained again :(
Won't you help me clean it when you get home, little one?
[ 1:22 PM ]
KAFKA
I saw a new movie today.
It made me think of you. It was quite to your tastes.
Perhaps we should go see it together sometime, hm?
Ah, but you're probably asleep by now...
That's fine. You do need it more than the rest of us.
Sleep well, darling.
[ 11:34 PM ]
she thinks of her little one quite frequently and has been known to pick up little trinkets from different planets that reminded her of them. a phone charm, a set of rings, something more practical like a new weapon... she once returned with a nice coat that matches one of hers. her gifts are always unpredictable but nonetheless very thoughtful.
and when or if they get injured, she is the one who treats their wound(s) with a tender hand.
she does chide them, however.
"you are a stellaron hunter, little one," she reminds, pulling the bandages wrapped around their wound a little tighter, making them wince. it is akin to a slap on the wrist—not enough pain to seriously harm them, but enough to force them to take her words to heart. "if it is not a part of the plan, try your best not to get caught or injured, hm? silver wolf doesn't like to see you this way, and it causes a unique stir in bladie. your getting injured causes quite the unrest among us all! do be more careful next time."
if there is ever a night during which they are struggling to sleep, they are more than welcome to seek out kafka's company.
she would be willing to read them to sleep, if that is what they desired.
however... a far easier method that would ensure they would stay asleep? her spirit whisper ability, of course.
they know kafka would not use it to harm them.
kafka finds their earnest trust beyond endearing. the trust of a little one like them is quite an important gift! the least she can do, she thinks, is assist them when her assistance is needed.
and sometimes, that just means lulling them to sleep.
blade is quite a difficult person to read, regardless of whether he intends to be so or not.
some days, he is distant and prefers to keep to himself. others, less so.
this, though, should not be mistaken for a lack of care. in fact, he cares quite deeply. his care is simply very quiet and he desperately, earnestly, truly does not wish to cause [name] harm.
he is also most likely the one who spars with them and trains them in the ways of combat, which... he isn't exactly the gentlest at doing. training sessions can be quite frustrating in that they often emerge sore and with new cuts and bruises (but really, these injuries are small and insignificant; they are confident in saying that blade would never truly hurt them, nobody in their family would). he does mean well in his tough methods, though.
the universe is not kind or gentle. it will never treat them that way. therefore, he does his best to prepare them so that they can effectively handle the universe's cruelty and defend themselves from it.
one of the ways in which his quiet care manifests is through his treatment of the small wounds he gives them during training. kafka has said many times that she can treat them, but blade always insists on doing it himself.
out of all of their coworkers, blade becomes the most restless when they're away. he gets particularly antsy when they've been gone for a long period or when they're out there alone. kafka always giggles and points out to him how utterly restless he becomes when such circumstances occur.
(he should be assured that they can handle themselves, given that he is their mentor—there is surely nobody else who would know their skills as well as he would—but somehow he simply isn't.)
blade is also, generally speaking, the most protective.
should they come back injured... if it is anything other than a shallow scratch on the cheek, a rage hotter than the brightest star burns under his skin. in those moments, he almost does not dare to touch them, for fear that he might harm them unwittingly... but he does. his hands are somewhat rough when he snatches their face and tilts their chin around to get a better look at the blood (is it theirs? he hopes not) and grime dirtying their face. there is a terrifying threat present in his voice when he demands, not asks, "who did this to you?"
(if kafka was not present in these moments, he might worry that his mara would get the best of him. thankfully, kafka is intentional and present in such situations.)
unless the ones responsible for the wound have already been adequately... taken care of, he will do so himself. there is nowhere in the universe that the perpetrators could hide from him.
it's about protecting them, but it is also about sending a message.
something along the lines of "anyone who lays hands on them will suffer a fate worse than death," perhaps.
death is anything but a terrible fate to blade, but he knows that it is the worst imaginable to some. he will be certain to deliver something infinitely worse, something beyond imagination, to those daring to hurt his younger teammate.
silver wolf is perhaps the least enigmatic of their little family. she isn't an open book, per se, but she's easier to read than kafka or blade... at least, for someone like [name], anyway.
she never fails to harrass them to play a few rounds (which tends to spiral into many, many rounds...) of a game or two with her. why them, specifically? she insists that blade isn't good at them and kafka is kafka. really, it may very well just be that she enjoys spending time with them, but she—of course—will not simply say that.
however... she bullies them terribly about how bad they are. it comes from a place of affection!
she is also the type to win them every single prize at carnivals, just because she likes the joy it seems to bring them. when she encounters rigged games, however, she becomes all the more motivated by her unadulterated annoyance to beat them.
what do you mean she of all people can't beat this awful and horrible rigged game? her???? the silver wolf????? seriously????????
unfortunately, it does not always end in her victory, even when she is infinitely motivated by her anger.
...and she really isn't above just taking one of the prizes when the stall's owner isn't looking. she has done so multiple times for [name].
she would definitely try to teach them hacking (keyword: try) if they aren't already familiar with it. since it has come in handy for her, she figures that they might also find use in it. it's her quiet way of looking out for them.
(her more obvious way of looking out for them is often seen when she is on missions with them. most commonly, it manifests as her snatching their arm and pulling them out of the way of an enemy before obliterating said threat.)
silver wolf is totally the sort of person to pinch their cheeks (to different degrees, kafka and blade also do this!). they are very cute to her.
overall they are a weird but very special little family to be a part of <3
please consider supporting your writers by reblogging and leaving a kind tag or comment. it really helps me out!
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Follow You Anywhere 1
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No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, obsession, controlling behavoiour, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: You're online existence threatens to leak into your real life.
Characters: Captain Syverson
Note: I couldn't help myself.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)
Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖
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"So... this is what it looks like today?" You aim your camera at the sky outside your window, "sorry, the screen is kinda in the way."
You let out a nervous chuckle and flip the camera to yourself. You make a silly face. You were never overly fond of your image on the screen but the vlogs help. Like a little diary, mostly for yourself. You and your seven followers on Insta.
You bat your lashes and fix the clip in your hair, "oh, I got this free. Yeah, I bought a new hair oil and they threw this in the bag." You let your thoughts run wild from your tongue. You found a journal too daunting, the blank lines leaving you just as empty. This is easier. "Anyway, I shouldn't have spent the money to begin with."
You give another splintered laugh. The one you let out when you're anxious, or scared, or happy, or even mad.  You bite your lip and catch yourself in your digitized reflection. You stop and turn your camera to your bedroom.
"Today, I'm gonna clean this mess. Me and you guys together."
You scour the room with the lens. Your laundry is piled on the floor and you have a stack of books you need to put on the shelf. It isn't the worst it's been but it's getting cluttered.
"But first, we'll have breakfast, can't start the stream on an empty stomach," you chirp and nearly drop the phone, "oops, uh..." You fix your grip and check the number in the corner. You have one viewer; on a good day, it's three, most days, it's just you talking to the void.
You go into the kitchen, just down the short hall from your bedroom, opening into your living room. You go to the counter and prop up the phone so the camera is on you again. You tap your fingers and hum.
"What should we have for breakfast?" You ask. You don't feel as crazy talking to yourself even if there's really no one watching. "Oo, French toast. Gotta use up the eggs."
You go to the fridge and pull out the eggs and the milk. You bring them back to the counter, shuffling around for a bowl, a whisk, and the cinnamon.
You mix up your ingredients and dip the bread, one piece at a time. You put on a skillet and fry up the slices, presenting a stack of three to the camera. You smile and dust some icing sugar over the top.
“Probably shouldn't have all this sugar for breakfast,” you shrug at the camera, “alright, quick break…” 
You put the stream onto the ‘back soon’ page and take your plate to the small foldout table against the wall. You're not a fan of eating on camera. You finish and rinse up before snatching your phone up again.
You return to your bedroom and put the phone on a middle shelf and flip the stream back to live. Still that one viewer…
“Anyway, I'm back,” you wave at the lens.
You hesitate, looking around as you stand straight and spin. Cleaning, right. Before you can set to work, the phone dings.
A message?
You go back to your phone and squint at the chat bubble floating up.
‘Looked delicious too.’
“It was,” you agree with a grin, “thanks.”
‘Don't mean the toast.’
The next message has you blinking. Your nape burns. They can't mean… you clear your throat and giggle.
“Well, let's get started,” you back up and clap your hands, “you know, I've been so carried away with work. This place is a pigsty.”
You sit on the floor and sort through the clothes. You toss them into the basket as you sit in silence. You stop yourself and glance at the phone.
“How about some tunes?” 
You walk on your knees to your bedside and turn on your bluetooth speaker. You go to your phone and find a playlist before pulling the stream back to full screen. As you do, you hear a noise you've never heard before.
‘BourbonBear has tipped.’ Huh? Really?
“Oh, thanks, er, BourbonBear,” you giggle around the name, “how nice. Maybe one day I can afford a proper camera for this, huh?”
You smile and go back to the dirty clothes. You quickly ball up a pair of panties and shove them in the basket. You carry on until they're all untangled.
You move on and tidy your desk, bending underneath to gather up a few loose pens. You make your way around the bedroom, putting away books, fixing the blankets on the bed, and straightening the little figurines on the shelf above the bed.
You grab the stick vacuum and suck up the dirt and proclaim your task done. It took a lot longer than you thought. It's after eleven. The one viewer is still there.
“Whew, okay, I'm gonna get myself washed up and go to the park. Maybe I'll post that later,” you give a thumbs up next to your head as you talk to the phone, “thank you.”
You end the stream and let out a sigh. Your videos aren't much and you doubt they're very interesting but it's like venting for you. Almost like having an invisible friend. You think you will take some pictures of the flowers to share.
🧸
You take your usual path through the park. The walks help you unwind your worries. You try to come after work at least a couple days during the week and both days on the weekend. You find the mindlessness of the routine to be calming.
The deeper you get into the wooded length of the path, you slow to admire the birds in the branches and the critters crawling in the brush. You take out your phone and snap a few photos of a blue jay before it wings away shyly. You smile and flip the cam, smiling as you take a goofy selfie. You can add that to your post.
The path winds ahead and you follow it in the din, listening to the river just down the incline to your left and the tweeting from the sky. You lift your face and inhale the woodsy scent. The sudden crack of a twig startles you and you spin to face the noise. There's no one there. Sometimes you forget other people are free to just walk on through.
You chuckle at yourself and continue on. The path leads out to a suburban street where you like to look at the houses. They're much more spacious and pretty than your grimy brick apartment building.
You come out from the shade of the trees and wander along the avenue. There's a mailbox painted to look like the house it stands before and a little nook for second hand children's books to be borrowed through the neighbourhood. Sometimes you picture yourself living in one of those houses though you don't think it could ever truly be.
As you crane your head, you sense a shadow in your peripheral. You're walking a bit slow. You sidle to the side to get out of the way of the other pedestrian. When no one passes, you look back. No one.
You must be imagining things. You shrug and plod along. You're already thinking of what kind of tea you'll have when you get in.
🧸
You sit down with your mug of ginger citrus tea and set to editing your post. You add a light filter to the photos as you shuffle through them on your laptop. The process is slow as the computer is nearly five years old now and chuffing on its 4GB drive. You get to the selfie you snapped, a stop.
You lean in to get a better glimpse of the background. It's fuzzy but there's a figure just over your shoulder. How could that be? You looked and there was no one there. That's so strange.
You stare as a chill courses through you. You're thankful you hadn't put your earphones in. You wouldn't have heard whoever it was and they may have even snuck up on you. Or maybe it's just a trick of the light.
You hit ‘post’ and try to shake off the foreboding. It's nothing. You're being silly. Besides, you're home and safe now. Next time, you'll be more alert.
A message pops up. You stare at the dot over the chat bubble. You tap with your thumb and bring up the DMs.
'Stream tonight?' BourbonBear asks.
You tilt your head. You already did some today. You're tired and want to lie down and enjoy your time off. You type back 'sorry, not tonight. tomorrow <3' and another notification vibrates. A comment on your latest post.
'Pretty sweater', also from BourbonBear. You heart their comment and leave a thanks below.
You flip back to the selfie. You can't really see your sweater in the picture, just the scalloped knitting of the collar. Well, you suppose it does look cute. You put your phone down and leave it on your desk. That's enough Insta for today.
🧸
You time your shopping trip for the least busy hour. It's early and the store is almost empty except for employees stacking bread on shelves or wandering listlessly around the deli. You have your phone in the basket of the cart, aimed at you as you roll it along slowly and check your list.
The stream is just as empty. It's only just started but you don't expect too many people to be up at this hour. You stop and grab a loaf of sourdough, checking the date before showing it to the lens and putting it in the cart. You smile and announce the next item.
"Strawberries... you know I was thinking I might get raspberries instead," you say, catching the eye of one of the yawning employees. You must seem like a weirdo. It's why you typically don't film in public.
As you roll around to the fruit, you notice the count change. One viewer. You choose a basket of raspberries and show those. You see a message float up; morning.
You smile and return the greeting softly and place the berries down carefully beside your phone. You need yogurt to go with the berries.
You work down the list, making some substitutes as you tick off each item. You linger in the ice cream section a bit too long and talk yourself out of a gallon of rocky road. You lean on the handle of the cart and smile down at the lens.
"Going to check out," you say, "see you all later."
All? There's still just the one. You end the stream and take your phone out of the basket.
You wheel around to checkout and line up at the only open till. You put your items up as you greet the cashier with a smile. She seems tired as she gives a dull response.
As you put the yogurt on the belt, you sense someone join the queue behind you. You glance over as a large man stands only feet away. He's tall and burly and staring at you. Maybe he heard you talking to your audience, or he would think, yourself. You continue to unload your groceries.
"Never tried those," he comments as you take out a box of strawberry Pocky.
You pause and hold them up, chuckling nervously, as you do.
"Pretty good," you answer, "I eat way too many."
You notice the man doesn't have a basket or a cart. That realisation needles under your skin. Maybe he's just getting lotto or smokes?
"You like sweet stuff."
"Too much," you squeak even though it doesn't sound like a question.
He just stares, not saying a word. You swallow tightly and pull the last few items out of the cart and get behind it to wheel it through the lane. As you do, he looms closely, adding to the sweat gathering on your lower back.
You roll along and wait for the cashier to ring through the rest of your things. She bags them up neatly in two large paper bags. You pay with your card and thank her as you lift the first into your cart. The man behind you moves forward and grabs the second, startling you.
"Got it," he says as he places it with the other, squeezing by you, crowding you.
"Oh, excuse me, sir," you stammer, "oh," you lean on the cart to roll it to the end of the lane as you make space between you and the stranger. "Thanks, er, uh... thanks."
You turn and grab the handle, jittering. He's really weirding you out. Especially as you realise he's walked right by the cashier. He's following you.
"I can help get ‘em in your car," he offers in a drawl.
"Oh, that's alright, I... bus," you cringe as you realise you've said too much.
"I could drive you. I have a truck."
"No thank you," you walk faster, the cart rattling with your pace.
"Why not?"
"I don't know you, erm, sorry--"
"You don't?" He catches up and shoves his phone in your face, your Insta profile glaring back at you, "I paid for the milk, maybe the berries..."
"What?" You stop, just by the door and turn to him. "I don't--"
"You haven't eaten, have you? I'll take you for French toast. That's your favourite."
"Um," you blink at him as your eyes tinge, "I don't..."
"You got me through a hard campaign, just wanna say thank you," he adjusts his cap and you notice the pin on it. He's a veteran. Oh, 'campaign'. 
“Just got back home," he shifts on his feet, a meek gesture for such a large man, "and... your videos helped me remember it. Helped me hold onto it in the sh-- in the stuff."
"I... wow, okay, that's... I'm glad I could do that."
"I really don't mind giving you a ride. Lots of weirdos on the bus," he insists.
"That's nice but--"
"Please," he softens his tone, "been a while since I sat down and had breakfast without worrying about the sky falling."
You shudder and grip the cart tight. You don't know how to say no. You didn't think about who was watching. You always just assumed they were bots. Then you think of the chaching noise and the amount flashing on the screen.
"BourbonBear?" You ask.
"Yeah," he cracks a crooked smile and smooths his hand over his thick beard. "Everyone calls me Syv.”
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ghosts-cyphera · 9 months
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Harder.
╰﹒ sometimes a slip of Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley’s hand is all the push you need.
content/warnings: swearing and suggestiveness; gn!reader; wc: 1k
a/n: gods, it's been years since I've last posted my stories online, but I couldn't sleep after playing CoD and... well. those who get it, get it. feedback and requests are welcome! ♡
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Your feet pounded the cement as you ran through the cargo hold, finding security from the midst of the rusty metal containers.
All around you shouts and calls erupted from your friends' lips—some followed by warm laughs, others by deep curses, as the Task Force 141 submerged into the practice session.
"Gaz, do you copy?" The call passed your lips as a warm chuckle, as you crouched behind an oil container. "I've just gotten Soap's dog tags."
"Oh, I know." The reply was spoken with a laugh. "He's sent Ghost to come and find you. Fuckin' dumb on his part, considering that—"
"His tags are the last ones we need to win." You nodded your head. "Any visual on him? The last I've seen him was when he swiped poor fucking Roach off his—"
"I only needed his dog tags, didn't I?"
You grinned at the deep voice echoing from the other side of the container. You should have focused on listening to him approaching, but then, when did you ever really hear him coming?
"Funny," you chuckled back at the man, as you planted your feet steadier against the ground, careful to not make a sound. "You see, Lieutenant, your tags are exactly what I need. So why don't you just go ahead and toss them to me? We can take it real nice and easy."
"'Cause that's how you fuckin' like it, eh?"
You could hear the laughter in his voice, slightly breathless from the time spent dashing around under the scorching sun. Just moments before you had cursed the heat under your breath as you'd felt the pearls of sweat rolling down your forehead. Running in full gear tended to get to the fittest of the force, yet it did have its benefits, too.
Benefits, such as the sound of Ghost's vest brushing against the metal of the container. At your ear level, right around the corner to your right.
You wet your lips with your grin. "Want me to show you just how I like it, Lt.?"
"Darlin', you and I both know that I can read you like an open fuckin' book."
You could hear the brush of his vest against the metal again, as he moved closer to you. You knew he was out of paint-ammo: Gaz had gotten away with his tags from mere luck only moments prior, which meant that you had the higher ground. The moment he moved to lunge at you, could take him down with a single pull of the trigger, and grab his tags off his soon-to-be paint-covered vest.
Yet what was the fun in that?
With an arched brow, you laid your gun on the pavement. The screech of it against the ground, as you kicked it out of both your reaches, did not go unnoticed by Ghost.
”Sure you wanna do that, love?”
"Just to make it fair and square," you chuckled.
"You know I can't just kick off half my fucking body, yeah?"
"Wasn't it just this morning that I wiped the floors with your—"
A gasp and a curse were all you could manage, as your back collided with the hard cement of the ground. Handling the shock of the impact was one thing, but seeing him towering over you, fucking victorious, was another pill to swallow.
"Jesus fuck, Ghost." Despite your voice being a mere pained groan, you could not shake off the laughter from your features: the same laughter that glimmered in his eyes. "You know we're just fucking practicing, right?"
"I know. But you see, whatever the fuck it was that you said about takin' it nice and fuckin' easy—," he chuckled, as he crouched by you, "just doesn't do it for me. So what do you say I take these…"
His skeleton-patterned gloves reached for the chain around your neck, and just as you rolled your eyes at the certainty of your team having lost over you letting down your guard, the events began to unfold.
Whether it was from his finger slipping on your glistening skin, or from you turning your head at the exact wrong moment—perhaps it was from the combination of both—his hand did not wrap around the chain of your dog tags.
Instead, Ghost's fingers wrapped around your throat.
One moment he was sure of the victory of his team. Next, his brain could not function. For there you fucking were, on your back with your eyes slightly widened and lips parted, and his hand—his goddamn gloved hand around your throat from all the fucking places.
The worst of it all was not the wave of embarrassment that flushed through him. The worst of it was how fucking good you looked.
Yet he knew.
He knew.
No, he should have known better than to let his guard down: to allow himself to get distracted by the tug of the corners of your lips, as you tilted your head ever so slightly, chest rising and falling with your heavy breaths, your eyes fucking twinkling. 
Yet as the fingers of your hand rested on his and the word passed your lips, fucking pretty, who could blame him?
"Harder."
To hell and fucking above. From your breathless request, his lips parted involuntarily under his mask. To say what, he did not know: plead, maybe, for the first time in his life.
No, it wasn't pleading and begging you wanted from him, was it? Quite the fucking opposite.
No. Focus.
Fucking focus, Lt.
Using the fleeing moment of his racing thoughts to your advantage, you pushed off the ground and brought your knife—sheathed—to his throat. The twinkle in your eyes was brighter than ever, and as you laughed, the sound was all but menacing.
"Really, Ghost?"
"Don't even fucking begin," he cursed, breathless, as your fingers wrapped around the chain around his neck, and tugged off the dog tags. 
Yet as long as he had tried to deny it, it was not the slight touch of humiliation of having lost that made his head spin. You—he wet his lips, as he watched you twirling the tags around your finger—were going to be the goddamn death of him, and for one reason or another, he was ready to welcome it with open fucking arms.
“Ready for round two, sarge?” His chuckle was deep as you tossed his dog tags back to him, your eyes twinkling with challenge. “You know, I’m not gonna take it fuckin’ easy on you now.”
“Oh, that’s mutual, Lt.” 
That—Ghost wet his lips with a chuckle—that he was fucking counting on.
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samwhump · 2 months
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a (very inexhaustive, wincest-heavy) sam whump reclist
@transfemmesam asked me for Sam whump recs a few days ago, and I've had other requests in the same vein before (I can't imagine why.../s) so I thought I would throw this together, since these authors deserve all of the love and support for their contributions to our li'l fandom corner.
like I mentioned in the title, this is not at all a comprehensive list; I have at least ~200 more fics in my to-read queue that could thematically fit here, but alas, I have stupid shit like a job and a body and a dog to take care of, so. I'm always happy to get recs along these lines, so if you notice anything important missing, hit me UP. (and don't take any omissions as any specific commentary by me -- it's likely I just haven't had the chance to read it yet, haha.)
disclaimers:
some (most, honestly) of these contain potentially triggering and dark content, including but not limited to rape/noncon, torture, and suicidal attempts & ideation. I have tried to note content warnings where applicable, and most of the works are hosted on ao3, so the tags should have most of the information you need to make an informed decision. that being said, tread with caution. all of the summaries provided are from the original author, with warnings added after by me.
the list is in alphabetical order and separated into wincest and gen categories. a lot of the gen is also focused on the sam & dean relationship, because...I am what I am. and what I am a sucker for these two dipshits. there is also a brief section at the end with a few fics that don't fit into either category.
gen
All That Goes Unspoken by amnesiawife:
A case forces Sam to confront something long kept buried. (Set nebulously in season 12.)
CW: discussions of past rape/noncon, victim blaming
Beneath the Trees 'verse by Lise (5 works total, starting with Beneath the Trees, Where Nobody Sees):
Sam doesn't go to Stanford. Everything goes downhill from there.
CW: suicidal ideation
a boy is a cage by ad_castra:
After expelling Gadreel from Sam's body, Dean thinks they're in the clear. If only they were that lucky. // S9 fic wherein Gadreel's grace causes some adverse side-effects in Sam's mind.
CW: past referenced rape/noncon, body horror
body of proof by Askance (doomcountry):
There are things Sam hasn't told his brother. They're all in the envelope laid on Dean's pillow.
CW: heavy discussion of past rape/noncon
break these bones 'til they're better by redskyatmorning:
After Sam’s torture at the hands of the British Men of Letters, the latest in a long string of violations, he is rescued by Dean and Mary – and forced to ponder his broken relationship with his own body. Months later, when Sam is resurrected and tormented by Lucifer yet again, Dean confronts Mary and Sam gets his revenge against the devil.
catching my death (staring out an open window) by ad_castra:
Sam gazes at the window, catches the faint pink hue tinting the sky. It’s so realistic - he could breathe in the fresh air if he were really here. ----- They got Sam out. Sometimes, just knowing that isn't enough.
CW: implied past rape/noncon
Death of Convenience by WilsonTheMoose:
It should have been easy. Wendigos are no joke but daylight slows them. The weather's been unpredictable though and perfect, idyllic hunts don't exactly stay that way where they're concerned. Or Sam has one card to play and never stops to think that Dean would care if he killed himself.
CW: suicidal ideation, references to suicide
Echoes of Hell by The_Nightbreaker:
It wasn't real. He wasn't in Hell anymore. That's what he tried to tell himself over and over. But two centuries of torture don't disappear in a day. Sam struggles with visions of Hell, fighting to maintain his grip on reality. Dean hates that he can't protect his brother from what isn't real—but curse him if he doesn't try. When the boys stumble on a case with ties to the Devil himself, will they be able to pull themselves together in time to stop the sacrifices? Or will the echoes of Hell finally overtake them? Aka, season 7, but the plot is Hell trauma, not leviathans.
CW: suicidal ideation
Evening Shadows by withthekeyisking:
Sam is hallucinating the monster who tortured him for nearly two centuries, Dean feels like he's failing his brother, and a diner waitress bears witness.
CW: past rape/noncon
Everything Dies Given Time by Lise:
AU from 5.03. Sam discovers something wrong with himself, and learns to live with it. Only a lot less functional.
CW: suicide/temporary character death
The Freedom to Be Loud by jribbing:
It hadn’t occurred to Dean that maybe Sam remembered so much about that little nowhere town because something memorable had happened there.
CW: referenced past rape/noncon
golgotha by redskyatmorning:
There’s a vacancy on the throne of hell, and Sam is desperate enough to save Dean from Michael’s possession to give into the abyssal depths of his own darkness.
Head Space by ameliacareful:
A witch curses Sam leaving him blind, deaf, and bedridden. Left with only the inside of his own head and the occasional touch, Sam begins to unravel.
CW: suicidal ideation
Hiraeth by inkandpaperqwerty:
(n.) a homesickness for a home to which you cannot return, a home which maybe never was; the nostalgia, the yearning, the grief for the lost places of your past "Dean... I made a really big mistake." For a second, Dean actually thought things were going okay. He was out of Hell, Sam agreed to stop drinking demon blood, they had just wrapped up a successful hunt... for once, everything was okay. And then it wasn't. "I overdosed." Not at all.
CW: suicide attempts, suicidal ideation
if i could leave (i would've already left) by serendipity0930:
“I have a mission from God for you,” the Angel whispers to the man. “It is time for you to do what you were born to.” The man’s face twists into a smile, delighted over being chosen by Him, a purpose from God digging into his heart, carving out a place to fester. “Hunt.” ... 05x03 AU where Zachariah is even more determined to keep the brothers apart and hunters are all too willing to take Lucifer's True Vessel off the board for good
CW: referenced suicide
It's A River (But Not In Egypt) by Lise:
He's still a liar. Maybe always has been.
CW: toxic Sam/Lucifer dynamics
Kindred Instruments by PinBitch:
They’re in a tug of war and Sam is the rope. He doesn’t need to be alive for that. OR Sam dies in detox, being flung against the walls of a metal box will do that to you. Dean and Ruby pick up the pieces.
CW: temporary main character death, permanent supporting character death
lazarus trick by katsidhe:
Sam's alive, so everything is gonna be okay. 13.22 coda.
Let All Mortal Flesh Keep Silence by Lise:
Sam's back. He's in one piece. That's the problem.
CW: self-harm
love is like ghosts by redskyatmorning:
I’m poison, Dean had said instead of I’m sorry. Well, Sam wants to say, what does that make me? What the hell does that make me? (A look into Sam's mind in the aftermath of the Gadreel possession.)
The Other Brother by RadioFriday:
Sam and Adam are pulled from the cage at the same time. Sam is not right, and Adam, stuck as his caretaker, is not pleased.
Oxygen by inkandpaperqwerty:
“Cas! Cas, please! Please, answer me! Cas!” Castiel ignores Dean for several minutes, but then Dean gives him an opening that might help him complete his mission. So, he goes to investigate, and what he finds is a very bloody, nearly dead Sam. Dean tells him where the injuries came from, and Castiel quickly becomes confused. It doesn't make sense, but Dean tries to explain it to him, and slowly... Castiel begins to understand.
CW: suicide attempt
Post Hoc, Ergo Propter Hoc by AmberSock:
Sam waits, kneeling, for his execution. What if Dean hadn't missed?
CW: temporary character death
Safety In Distance by GalaxyThreads and SpiritClusters:
The Mark of Cain is a brand of violence. Sam was an idiot to think that he'd be exempt from it, just because he and Dean are siblings.
sometimes a kind of singing by adi_rotynd:
Sam gets cursed. They're dealing with it. Jack can see souls. That one they're not dealing with quite as well.
CW: past referenced rape/noncon
Soul Windows by GalaxyThreads and Spirit Clusters:
A few months after his birth, Jack learns how to see souls. Then he comes to a realization about the Winchester brothers, Sam in particular, and it's not a pleasant one. (gen)
Starry Night by keepcalmsmile:
Sam attempts suicide-by-monster. Dean tries to help. It sort of works...until it doesn't.
CW: suicide attempts, suicidal ideation
such fragile, broken things by The_Bookkeeper:
Sam wishes that Dean would just get it over with already.
The Tale of Sir Galahad by keepcalmsmile:
Sam once said he could never be clean like Sir Galahad. Dean assumed he was just talking about the demon blood. Turns out, Sam was talking about something else too. WARNING: Extended discussions of the aftermath of rape and childhood sexual abuse (but NO description of the actual events). Happy(ish) ending, but potentially very triggering.
CW: past rape/noncon, mentioned CSA
They Hammered in His Teeth by jribbing:
Sam has a secret.
CW: suicidal ideation
today's troubles (are history tomorrow) by a_good_soldier:
"It's not really something I know how to share," Sam had said. In which Dean figures he ought to help Sam out a bit.
Touch and Go by themegalosaurus:
Tag to 9.19 (Alex Annie Alexis Ann) in which Dean realises why, exactly, Sam is so angry about what happened with Gadreel.
trust fall by ad_castra:
“I’m nothing like you,” Sam hisses. Nevermind relating to the anguish of going it alone. Nevermind that he knows what it is to be strapped down and forcibly cleansed against his will. Sam wonders if these trials are purifying Crowley as well. 
Words Like Glass by broken_cinders:
Dean never figured the cage wouldn't leave a mark. He was prepared for memories, flashbacks, and nightmares. He wasn't expecting the words Sam brought back with him or the way they made him seem just a breath beyond Dean's reach.
Wound and Unwound by fascra:
Sam stops eating spring of his freshman year.
CW: eating disorder
wincest (dean/sam)
Brittle by thecapn:
Sam Winchester has an eating disorder.
CW: eating disorder
Don't You Cry No More by sixtysevenlmpala (schittyfic):
The first time Sam gets badly hurt on a hunt, he doesn’t cry. Dean does.
Fall On Your Knees by dollylux:
Sam doesn't quite make it home on the last day of school before winter break.
The Fall Will Probably Kill You by killabeez:
Set between 7.04 and the aftermath of 7.07. Dean is not as okay as he'd like you to think. Neither is Sam.
CW: self-harm
Feels so good to feel again by Trojie:
The pain keeps Lucifer at bay, at least to start with.
Follow In Your Form by withthekeyisking:
Sam is hallucinating Lucifer in the wake of Cas bringing his Hell Wall crashing down. To make matters worse, it seems like this has his dormant powers flaring back to life.
Last Temptation by merle_p:
Sam is running a fever again, the kind of fever no Ibuprofen or cold compress will bring down, the kind of fever that is eating him up alive, eviscerating him from the inside. He is too hot and too cold and too pale, delirious and shaking, resonating with whatever divine energy the trials are subjecting him to, and Dean is not sure how much longer he can stand to see him be in this state. Because Sam is quite possibly dying, and there is nothing Dean can do to stop it. Because Sam is dying, and he just. Won’t. Shut. Up.
CW: mentioned past rape/noncon
leeches by Anonymous:
Sam discovers a spell to make everybody forget him. He’s convinced it’s for the best. Pre-Stanford.
CW: attempted kidnapping/torture
Make Thick My Blood by themegalosaurus:
“You’re going to kill me, Dean,” Sam says, eventually. And all Dean can say is, “I think I am.” A season 10 AU, set after 10x14 ('The Executioner's Song'). Cas finds a solution that might cure the Mark of Cain; but if they're going to go through with it, Sam has a terrible price to pay.
CW: mentioned past rape/noncon
Prophecy of an Abomination by ashitanoyuki:
Sam is kidnapped by fanatically religious hunters and crucified. Coming back from this won't be easy. Canon-divergent from midway through season 2.
Recall by De_Nugis:
Sam's having a hard time telling what's real and what isn't, especially when it comes to some voicemails from Dean.
The Room Upstairs by brokenlittleboy:
Sam comes back from hell, but he’s inside-out and all wrong, and Dean can’t fix him.
CW: mentioned past rape/noncon
Ruin You (and its companion fic Worth) by Mumble_Bee:
Cole fucks Sam with Demon!Dean watching from a devil's trap, snarling that anyone would dare touch what was his. “I told you I don’t care what you do to his face or his blood or his fucking nose,” Dean growled, “but you put your dick anywhere near him and I will end you.” “Better hurry up then, Dean, because I don’t think I can wait much longer.”
CW: explicit rape/noncon
Snowed In by HelloStarlingFics:
When working a case, Sam and Dean get stuck out in a shack in the woods when the snow comes in hard and fast. Trouble is, Sam’s hated the cold ever since the Cage. Time for Dean to step up and look after him.
Wake by minchout:
Gadreel has had Sam for four years, and Dean, lost in guilt and obsessed with finding a way to get his brother back, has isolated himself in a cabin in the Missouri Ozarks with nothing but the woods, a stray dog, some chickens, and all the books the Men of Letters had to offer to keep him company. Then Sam shows up one day without his passenger, and Dean learns quickly that it doesn't matter that Sam is with him again - there is still a lot of work to be done before they can find their way back to each other.
Wanting to Forget by morganaDW (morgana07):
1-shot. S1 fic. After getting Sam freed from the Benders Dean thinks all he has to cope with is some bruises and cuts. He learns quickly just how wrong he is when Sam wakes up with a nightmare, reliving his brief but bad captivity in every detail. Sam just wants to forget & Dean has to try to get him to let him help. Will one night of cruelty and pain ruin what’s been formed between them?
CW: referenced past rape/noncon
when I wake up I'm afraid, somebody else might take my place by quake_quiver:
Sam doesn’t remember the last time he cried for Dean like he did that night. And now it’s been…two weeks. Maybe more. Sam is tired, and in pain, and starting to doubt that Dean’s going to show up. He’s weak and shaking from a combination of constant pain and hunger. Sam longs for Dean. Dean would make it better. Dean would fix it.
CW: rape/noncon, body horror
Wire Inside Me by merle_p:
There are a lot of things Sam hates about his current condition, to the point where he sometimes feels for the gun under his pillow at night, blindly toys with the safety, imagines pressing the muzzle into the underside of his chin and pulling the trigger just to make it stop. But there’s nothing he hates as much as the shadows he sees in Dean’s eyes whenever his brother is looking at him these days. It’s not an expression he remembers ever seeing before, but Sam thinks it’s probably something like revulsion. Horror. Disgust. What else could it be.
CW: referenced past rape/noncon, body horror, forced pregnancy
Worth (and its companion fic Ruin You) by Mumble_Bee:
Episode 10x01 "Black" where Dean is a human, and very, very, pissed off to hear someone has hands on his brother. “It’s nothing personal,” Cole whispered into Sam's ear, too quietly for Dean to hear, “but I need to kill your brother, and I need him off his game when he gets here. I don’t wanna hurt you, kid, but I’m going to, anyway. I’m going to hurt you a lot."
CW: explicit rape/noncon
you'll never see us again by according2thelore:
Then finally, his eyes trail over to Dean. His pupils are pin-point thin, and his hair is straggling in his face so Dean can’t see most of what expression lies there. Sam usually wakes up from nightmares in one of three attitudes: confusion, fear, or calm. A scary, sense-prickling calm that Dean hates more than anything else. Resignation, almost. Or: Sam suffers from nightmares and touch starvation post-Cage. They do their best to deal.
other Sam/Lucifer noncon
Cage Fight (No Way To Do This Right) by Dyed_Red:
Sam’s visit to the cage is already going awry, but Dean’s one-man rescue ends up skidding it sideways into territory neither him or Sam are ready for. (Gratuitous episode scene re-write. If Cas hadn’t come till after, if he hadn’t been there yet when Dean ran down to the 'parole' cage after hearing Sam scream - how bad could it have got for the brothers before he made it?)
CW: graphic rape/noncon
Into Being by withthekeyisking:
When Sam wakes up in the cave on Apocalypse World after having been killed by vamps, it's not just to find Lucifer there with him. It's to find him in him.
CW: graphic rape/noncon, necrophilia, forced pregnancy
Reggie/Tim/Sam noncon
a pointless resistance for you by withthekeyisking:
Sam doesn't know how long he's been with Tim and Reggie by the time Dean shows up and tries to take him out of there. Long enough that's he's already lost one baby and is pregnant with the next. Long enough that this life is starting to feel like all he knows.
CW: graphic rape/noncon, forced pregnancy & miscarriage, victim blaming
screaming birds sound an awful lot like singing by withthekeyisking:
Sam has done his best to move past what Tim and Reggie did to him, pretending it never happened at all. But running into them again makes that very difficult—especially when Dean gets involved.
CW: referenced past rape/noncon
Waste 'Em All by withthekeyisking:
When Tim and Reggie try to force the demon blood down Sam's throat, he spits it back out. He has no interest in being turned into their own personal attack dog. They don't...take it well.
CW: explicit rape/noncon
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måneskin fic recs
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you are responsible for the content you consume‼️
✧*:·˚ hi everyone!! here is a list of all the fics that are my favs with tagged writers/authors ✧*:·˚
✧*:·˚ remember to like and reblog the works you enjoy in order to support each writer!! ✧*:·˚
✧*:·˚ however, make sure you read the information on each story themselves such as triggers & warnings ✧*:·˚
✧*:·˚ also, if you'd like me to remove your fic from this list, message me! ✧*:·˚
°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。
måneskin x reader: blurbs+headcannons+fics
୨୧ 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐢𝐧 𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐬
୨୧ 𝙬𝙖𝙡𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙞𝙣 𝙤𝙣 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙩𝙖𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙖 𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙬𝙚𝙧
୨୧ a headcanon with må with you being a successful model
-they're wearing earbuds, blasting music into their ears when they remember the they left their phone charger in the bathroom. they don't know you're showering and can't hear you over the music...
୨୧ headcanons with må x fashiondesigner!reader
୨୧ a valentine’s surprise | SMUT, orgy, oral sex, anal play, double penetration, food play, spit play, alcohol  
-You’ve been feeling a little left out in your relationship so your four partners show their love to you with a surprise for Valentine’s Day. 
୨୧ Gettin’ Frisky With The Måneskin Members  | explicit content, gender neutral reader, switch!damiano, hard domme!victoria, vanilla!thomas, sub!ethan, freaky stuff, toys and s/m, oral (both ways), degradation, spit, pain play, brat taming, bondage, sinning cuz rock’n’roll never dies
୨୧ our favourite band with an S/O with bad menstrual periods
| talk abt periods, so dyphoria warning (we'll get back on the totally GN shit tmrw, just filling requests rn), lil bit of swearing and NSFW on Ethan
୨୧ how the members of Måneskin confess their feelings for you måneskin x gn!reader
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victoria de angelis
·。🍓 my sweet valentine vic de angelis x fem! reader | Fluff
-Victoria's first Valentine's day celebrating with you is a bit chaotic but turns out better than expected.
·。🍓 date night vic de angelis x fem! reader | smut, fingering, oral (female receiving) and bdsm dynamics
-you and vic go on a date and it ends with fun at the hotel
·。🍓 hush, hush, cucciola. vic de angelis x fem! reader | smut
-you’re were asked to come over and help to calm Vic down after another disagreement during creating new song, and you find just the way to make her happy and peaceful again
·。🍓 pillow talk vic de angelis x fem! reader | smut
-your night trip to the kitchen gets interrupted by a strange noise, the results of your investigation are more pleasant then you could expect.
·。🍓 long stormy night damiano x fem!reader x vic | SMUT!!!, degradation, corruption kink, wax play, knife play, blood play, spanking, bit of fear play, unprotected sex, it’s just wild ok, i wanted to treat y/n
-It’s a last day of your small, a bit disappointing  gateway trip. The big storm is approaching, yet your evening takes an interesting turn when you bump into two hot Italians in the hotel bar
·。🍓 cold breeze, hot cheeks vic de angelis x fem! reader | angst, fluff 
-a rather cold October makes your blood boil as you and Vic attend Ethan's birthday party
·。🍓 i think I wanna hold you, but I'm not sure i'm allowed
vic de angelis x fem! reader | angst with tiny hint of smut
·。🍓 I'll show the  lovin' that you'll never get from a man. vic de angelis x fem! reader | angst, fluff, smut
-your friends finally meet your boyfriend, and even though nothing goes according to the plan, your night ends up being better than you could hope for, thanks to Vic
·。🍓 sweat and good grips vic de angelis x fem! reader | smut
·。🍓 the one with victoria’s boobs. victoria x gn!reader | fluff
-Victoria needs help taping her boobs for an upcoming performance. You get more than you bargained for.
·。🍓 the one where victoria wants to watch victoria x fem!reader x ethan | smut
·。🍓 “OPEN YOUR MOUTH.” victoria x gn!reader | soft smut
-along the lines of The one where victoria is patient.
·。🍓 “YEAH, WELL, IF YOU WEREN’T SO DRUNK MAYBE I WOULD.” vic de angelis x fem! reader
·。🍓 “I KNOW YOU CAN BE LOUDER THAN THAT.” vic de angelis x fem! reader
·。🍓 “GIVE ME ATTENTION.” vic de angelis x fem! reader | smut
·。🍓 say you'll see me again even if it's just in your wildest dreams vic de angelis xfem!reader | fluff, smut
-You're an up-and-coming actress, and Vic's best friend since high school. You have been friends and in love with each other for as long as you can remember. So when you have the chance to be together, it's magical.
·。🍓 baby said vic de angelis x fem! reader | smut
-you've been on a few dates with Victoria and you think things are going really well. You just wish you had known where the night was going beforehand- maybe you would have picked a table with longer tablecloths.
·。🍓 latenight devil vic de angelis x fem! reader
-victoria covers for you after you sneak backstage ahead of a Måneskin gig & invites you into her dressing room for an unusual encounter
·。🍓 forgive me father vic de angelis x fem! reader | smut, basically porn
·。🍓 the ocean's daughter swearing, alcohol consumption, drowning as a metaphor, smut
-while on holiday in italy, an encounter derails your life enough to make you pack up on a whim and move to the very city in which you first saw her — the ocean's daughter.
·。🍓 vic blurb
-doing domestic stuff with Victoria
·。🍓 a threesome with victoria and damiano! damiano x fem!reader x vic | smut
-reader is victoria’s partner and starts to develop a certain ‘obsession’ for dami, until vic decides to fix it.
·。🍓 vic de angelis fic victoria de angelis x fem!reader
-y/n is the other female member of the band, who has had feelings for vic for a while now, but was too nervous to say anything. one night after a concert in new york changes that after the bassist overhears a conversation between damiano and y/n.
·。🍓 thorns victoria de angelis x fem!reader | Mentions of smoking. Mentions of panic. Swearing.
-victoria meets her ex-girlfriend (Ava). The unplanned “date” upsets her and she decides to drink and smoke to cope. When she wakes up in the morning her best friend Y/N (who she also happens to have a crush on) is there to try and reason with her. 
·。🍓 lucid victoria de angelis x fem!reader
-It started with a spilled drink and ended with a clumsy kiss on the dance floor. A night out with friends takes an unexpected turn when you bump into the one person that's been on your mind for the better part of a year- the same stranger who stole both your chapstick and your heart.
·。🍓 nightmares victoria de angelis x fem!reader | A description of a nightmare. Other than that all is fluff and comfort.
-When Y/N has a terrifying nightmare and wakes up screaming, Victoria is there to comfort her.
·。🍓 kisses and cake vic de angelis x reader | very fluffy, a little spicy
·。🍓 vic blurb vic de angelis x reader
-being in a punk band and having vic feature in a show (you know like thomas recently did with starcrawler) and her doing her scissoring thing on top of me and then when she extends and after extending a hand to help me up and pulling me into a very gay gay gay kiss smearing her lipstick on my lipstick and leaving a big lipstick stain on my cheek as well
·。🍓 birthday wish victoria de angelis x fem!reader | smut
-little birthday blurb
·。🍓 church crush vic de angelis x reader | kinky as kink abba; innocent/corruption kink, and idk, sacrilege?
-good girl!reader having a massive obsession on a not-so-good girl from her church.
·。🍓 proficiency test victoria de angelis x gn!reader | a bit of swearing + one (1) explicit and one (1) implicit mention of sex + i'm very much projecting (who doesn't) + shitty german
-vic decides to help you study. chaos ensues.
·。🍓 coming home victoria de angelis x fem!reader
-vic has had a long day but coming home to you lifts the uneasiness from her shoulders and she vocalizes just how lucky she feels that you are in her life.
·。🍓 because of you idiot! victoria de angelis x gn!reader | angst(I guess), romantic fluff
-Victoria suddenly comes distance, and you try to find out why.
·。🍓 fluffy blurb vic de angelis x reader
-(it's something about getting matching tattoos with vic)
·。🍓 fuffly/smut with victoria victoria de angelis x fem!reader
-fluffy morning/half smut with victoria. nipples playing.
·。🍓 your camera roll while dating vic vic de angelis x reader | fluff, smut
·。🍓 knowing your worth vic x fem/gn! reader | hurt, comfort
-Vic is there for you after a conflict with your parents.
·。🍓 the first happiest birthday vic de angelis x reader | fluff
·。🍓 crawling back to you vic de angelis x reader
-Vic once again finds her way back to you.
·。🍓 one of a kind vic de angelis x reader | fluff, mentions of sex
-Vic finds out just how rich the feeling of love can be.
·。🍓 “I can’t keep kissing strangers and pretend that it’s you!” vic de angelis x reader | fluff, angst
·。🍓 pt 2 hospital vic fic. vic de angelis x reader
·。🍓 “everything before the word ‘but’ is horseshit.” vic de angelis x reader | smut
·。🍓 the one where victoria is patient. victoria de angelis x fem!reader | smut
-you've been with Victoria for half a year. Maybe it's about time you pushed your fears away.
·。🍓 “Yeah, well, if you weren’t so drunk maybe I would.” vic de angelis x reader | fluff
·。🍓 “Give me attention.” vic de angelis x reader | smut
·。🍓 “We’re in public, you know.” vic de angelis x reader | fluff
·。🍓 “Wait, don’t pull away… Not yet.” vic de angelis x reader | fluff
·。🍓 "Take off your clothes, but leave the heels on." vic de angelis x reader | fluff
·。🍓 vic fic vic de angelis x reader
-A kiss that is leading to more, but is interrupted by a third party
·。🍓 vic blurb vic de angelis x reader
-Distracting kisses from someone that are meant to stop the other person from finishing their work, and give them kisses instead.
·。🍓 l'amore è più forte di ogni segreto: Part 1. victoria de angelis x fem!reader | angst, swearing, bad google translate translations, overuse of italics, mention of someone called ‘A’ - Damiano’s girlfriend
-unbeknownst to you both, paparazzi photograph you and Victoria while on your way back from a date night. When you find out in the morning, the two of you have very different ideas of how to handle the situation.
·。🍓 l'amore è più forte di ogni segreto - Part 2. victoria de angelis x fem!reader | angst, swearing, bad google translate translations, overuse of italics.
·。🍓 k is for kisses vic de angelis x reader
-You and your girlfriend, Victoria, both like to tease each other. Kisses ensue.
·。🍓 peculiar and beautiful victoria de angelis x gn!reader | angsty but also fluffy
-reader finds themself in a emotional rut. A few comments online, the constant youtube recommendations on how to be “perfect” have been making them feel some type of way, hiding away from the one person that can help them; Victoria
·。🍓 amalfi nights victoria de angelis x fem!reader | smut, pretty vanilla, softdom!vic, servicetop!vic, praise, kind of fluffy smut
-reader and victoria are for vacation in Amalfi. After a candle-lit dinner at the restaurant, after a long day of swimming and sunbathing, victoria just wants to show you her love.
·。🍓 afterglow victoria de angelis x gn!reader | mentions of sex
-reader meets victoria while traveling with friends. The two create a lovely summer fling and reader can not help but bask in the afterglow of victorias influence hoping to encounter her again.
·。🍓 homesick vic de angelis x reader | tw sickness, vomitting
-vic and the reader being on a long vacation together. One night the reader wakes up homesick and ends up being sick in the toilet, trying to be as quiet as they can not to worry vic too much. To no use, of course, as vic wakes up alarmed by the sounds of someone being ill in the bathroom and then goes to comfort the sick, guilty, crying reader?
·。🍓 vic fic vic de angelis x reader
-An accidental brush of lips followed by a pause and going back for another, on purpose.
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damiano david
✧*: i want to dance on your body damiano david x fem!reader | smut 
-you and your bestie hit up a party when you start grooving with Damiano, and the dance floor chemistry carries over to his hotel room. That's where the magic unfolds, and you both go to cloud as he compares you to an angel.
✧*: i'm gonna fly straight to you damiano david x fem!reader | fluff
-you and Damiano are cuddled up in bed, brainstorming epic future adventures together.
✧*: i wanna paint your face like you're my Mona Lisa. damiano david x fem!reader | smut
-damiano takes you to see his new yacht
✧*: long stormy night damiano x fem!reader x vic | SMUT!!!, degradation, corruption kink, wax play, knife play, blood play, spanking, bit of fear play, unprotected sex, it’s just wild ok, i wanted to treat y/n
-It’s a last day of your small, a bit disappointing  gateway trip. The big storm is approaching, yet your evening takes an interesting turn when you bump into two hot Italians in the hotel bar
✧*: overthinking damiano david x fem!reader | swearing, alcohol, smoking, smut related things in general
-Your relationship with Damiano is going through a crisis and some jealousy. All becomes clear after a filed party and a steamy night. There is a bit sad, angsty beginning, smut in the middle and a bit of fluff in the end. So, we have the whole package.
✧*: welcome home damiano david x fem!reader | surprisingly fluffy but also smut
-after a long week all you need is a loving touch of your currently absent boyfriend. Luckily in the morning there is a very handsome surprise waiting for you, and this allows you to start your day in best way you could possibly imagine
✧*: 300,000 hearts damiano david x fem!girlfriend!reader
-where damiano sings a song about you he wrote in highschool, to a full arena
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ethan torchio
ᑦ( •ᴥ• )ᐣ blush ethan torchio x reader | pure fluff
-a blurb of Ethan meeting his new makeup artist who's really kind and bubbly and he instantly gets a crush on them?
ᑦ( •ᴥ• )ᐣ a night in paris ethan torchio x fem!reader | smut+swearing
-you went on a tour with the band and Ethan enjoyed Paris the most. Having your boyfriend all happy and excited turned out to be better then you expected.
ᑦ( •ᴥ• )ᐣ "The way your eyes get darker when you get aroused, is making me lose my mind." ethan torchio x fem!reader | smut
-If acting unwise get's you places, maybe you're just pushing it to be on your knees.
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thomas raggi
❤︎ ❥ "We passed 'just friends' about 20 fucks ago." thomas raggi x reader | angst, fluff, smut
❤︎ ❥ sanremo. thomas raggi x gn!reader | swearing, slightly sugggestive
-ever the supportive boyfriend, thomas indulges you in a sanremo 2023 watch party.
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613 notes · View notes
ewanmitchellcrumbs · 8 months
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Lonely This Christmas
Pairing: Billy Washington (Trigger Point) x f!reader Warnings: Dark and obsessive behaviour, stalking, smut, dubious consent. Word count: ~4.5k
Summary: On a rare occasion when her and Billy both find themselves home for Christmas at the same time, they admit they've always fancied each other. However, as things develop between them, she soon realises that for Billy it's something much more sinister than a harmless crush. Based on this request.
Author's note: For my darling @heimtathurs. I don't have a tag list. Please follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications. Community labels are for cops.
She walks up the pathway to the front door, the combination of the bitter cold and the handles of the plastic carrier bag cutting into her flesh causing her fingers to sting painfully. The cans in the bag clank noisily against each other as she jostles it from one hand to the other, raising her fist to knock at the door. Her breath comes in hot, cloudy puffs as she shifts from foot to foot, relief flooding through her as she sees the silhouette of her best friend, Lana, appear through the glass in the door.
“Let me in then!” She grumbles, pushing past and handing Lana the bag, once the door is open. “It’s bloody freezing out there!”
It’s December 23rd, and time for her and Lana’s annual tradition of Christmas Eve Eve film night - a ritual that they’ve managed to keep alive since they first met in secondary school, though as the years have passed their taste in films has matured and they can now sit and openly drink beer, instead of needing to sneak a bottle of MD 20:20 back and forth between them beneath a duvet, like they did as teenagers.
The location never changes - always at Lana’s parents’ house - even now that she’s moved out, she always comes home for two weeks over the festive period, and like clockwork the two of them sit on the sofa the evening before Christmas Eve and stare at the TV until they can no longer keep their eyes open.
She shrugs off her coat as she moves through the hallway, into the living room, the warmth from the central heating causing her skin to prickle with the pleasant rise in temperature. Rolling her eyes as she spies the DVD case for Die Hard on the coffee table, she sits heavily down on the sofa, kicking her shoes off and tucking her legs beneath her.
“We watched this last year,” she says to Lana, who follows a few paces behind, having deposited the contents of the bag into the fridge in the kitchen, “It’s not even a Christmas film!”
“It’s set at Christmas, so it’s a Christmas film,” Lana shoots back, handing her a can of Stella, before flopping down beside her and cracking open her own. “And Bruce Willis in that vest? I’m gripped.”
She snorts a laugh, opening her own beer and taking a deep sip, enjoying the way the coolness of the bitter liquid fizzes against her tongue.
“How’ve you been anyway? Your mum and dad not in?”
Lana swallows and pokes at the inside of her cheek with her tongue. “Nah, they’re out for the evening, think they could use a break since face-ache moved back in. I’ve only been back here a few days and he’s already doing my head in.”
She feels her cheeks heat up at the mention of Billy. She’d met Lana’s younger brother when he’d started at the same secondary school as them and, although he was a couple of years below them, she’d always thought he was cute. He was tall, if a little on the lanky side, and his floppy blonde hair and big blue eyes instantly attracted her to him. She’d kept the fact that she fancied him to herself though, feeling it was inappropriate to lust after her best mate’s brother, especially a younger brother.
As the years had passed, Billy’s seemingly permanent cheeky smile had faded into a persistent look of misery. He’d done badly at school, left with failing grades and been rejected each time he’d tried to apply to join the army.
Meanwhile, Lana had flourished, leaving school with a handful of As and Bs. She’d enrolled at college, before enlisting in the army and from there her career in the police force had taken off. She’d moved away from home, had a place of her own and had made her parents proud.
Billy, on the other hand, had struggled with chronic unemployment, eventually falling in with an alt right group who had set him up for a potential terrorist attack. He’d barely escaped the explosion on Cranstead Gardens, and had never really pulled himself back together afterwards. His relationship with his long-term girlfriend, Becky, had broken down and he’d moved out of their flat and back in with his parents, where he’d been living for the last six months.
She hasn’t seen Billy since they left school, but Lana tells her all about him whenever they hang out or chat on the phone. She’s always felt strangely protective of him, where Lana and her parents have given Billy a hard time, she has opted for a softer touch, believing he just needs someone to understand him.
“You can’t be so hard on him,” she says, finger pinging against the ringpull of her can absentmindedly, “he’s been through a lot.”
Lana sighs, grabbing the remote from the coffee table. “You don’t know him like I do. He’s not paying any rent, never tidies up, isn’t bothering to look for work. We can’t help him, he won’t let us, doesn’t wanna help himself.”
“Where is he at the moment?”
“Skulking around upstairs,” Lana nods towards the staircase. “First Christmas he’s not spent at Becky’s mum’s in a long time and he’s taking it…well, I couldn’t tell you how he’s taking it, he never leaves his bloody room.”
She nods sadly, letting the topic go as they settle back into the sofa cushions as the opening credits for Die Hard begin to roll.
“I’m empty,” Lana says around twenty minutes into the film, shaking her beer can. “You want another?”
“It’s alright, I’ll go,” she tell hers, taking her empty and heading towards the kitchen, eager for a break from a film she had no interest in watching last year, let alone again this year.
She chucks the cans into the recycling bin, before opening the fridge and retrieving two more. She yelps as she closes the door, startled by Billy standing there.
“Jesus, Billy–”
“Sorry, sorry…” he mumbles apologetically, a tinge of pink dusting itself across his cheek bones, as he averts his gaze. “Wasn’t tryna scare ya, just came down to make a cuppa.”
She exhales through her nose, a smile tugging at her lips. “S’alright. How are you getting on, anyway? It’s been a while.”
“Yeah…” he says uncertainly, filling the kettle from the sink and then flicking it on to boil. “Guessing you heard what happened then?”
She nods, placing the cans on the side and wiping the condensation off of her hands onto her jeans. “Lana told me. I’m so sorry, Billy, I really hope you’re okay.”
He says nothing for a moment, dropping a tea bag into a mug, followed by a generous pour of milk.
Milk first. Ugh.
“It’s been hard, y’know,” he finally says, “tryna find work, but there’s fuck all out there. What are you up to these days? You’re looking well.”
The sudden shift in focus doesn’t go unnoticed by her, he’s clearly not keen to talk about himself, but she can’t help but smile at the small compliment, feeling herself grow bashful.
“Got a job at a marketing agency,” she tells him, “nothing fancy, but it pays the rent.”
She’s actually a high ranking executive, living in one of the area’s most expensive flat blocks and has a tidy sum saved away for a deposit to eventually buy a place of her own. She’s unsure of why she’s downplaying her achievements, perhaps on some level she feels she owes it to Billy to not rub her success in his face when he’s clearly having a rough time of it.
The kettle boils and Billy fills his mug, stirring the tea bag around with a spoon, before squeezing it out with his fingers, making her wince - that has to burn, but if it does it doesn’t appear to bother him. He discards the used bag on the side, before turning to her. She can see what Lana means about him not tidying up now, it would have taken two steps for him to put it in the bin, and he hasn’t bothered. The laziness almost makes her want to laugh.
“So you and Lana doing your film night then?” He asks, noisily slurping his tea, then fixing her with a soft, yet unblinking gaze.
The intensity of his baby blue eyes flusters her, and for a moment she forgets what he’s asked, feeling the same old butterflies from their school days return. She clears her throat, shaking her head as if to rid herself of the feeling.
“Y-yeah…I’m surprised you remember. You were a teenager the last time we did one of those with you here,” she smiles warmly.
He nods, keeping a hand wrapped around his mug, pushing off of the kitchen side towards her and suddenly she’s aware of just how tall he’s grown, her throat running dry as she feels the kitchen counter bite into her back as she presses herself against it.
She deflates slightly, letting go of a breath she wasn’t aware when she’d been holding, a little disappointed when he brushes past her, lingering in the kitchen doorway.
“I remember,” he says, a ghost of the lopsided smirk she loved so much from their school days playing upon his full lips, “remember what a racket you and Lana used to make pretending you weren’t pissed on that nasty blue stuff.”
She grins, her gaze dropping as she fiddles with the cuff of her jumper sleeve, thinking back to all those years ago. “Sorry, Billy,” she finally says, looking up at him, “we’ll keep it down tonight.”
“No worries, I’ll be upstairs,” he tells her. “Enjoy your film.”
“Billy?” She calls softly after him as he moves to go back upstairs.
He turns, looking at her questioningly.
“You’re looking well too, by the way.”
The dusting of pink that had appeared across his cheekbones earlier now returns in earnest and he gives a simple nod before turning and heading up the stairs.
She deposits his now cold, used teabag into the bin, then grabs hers and Lana’s beers from the side and goes back into the living room.
The rest of the evening passes uneventfully, her and Lana finish off Die Hard, then move onto Gremlins.
On the couple of occasions that she goes upstairs to the bathroom she can hear the sound of Billy playing Call of Duty through his closed door. She thinks about knocking to invite him down to join them, but figures if he had wanted to do that he’d have asked in the kitchen, so she leaves it.
They’re halfway through Jingle All the Way when she feels her eyelids start to grow heavy. She leans forward, placing her half drunk can on the coffee table and turns to Lana.
“I’m gonna have to push off home, babe, I can’t keep my eyes open.”
Lana nods, pausing the film and sitting forward with a yawn. “Yeah, should probably get to bed myself. You gonna be alright getting home? Need me to call you a cab?”
“Nah, it’s only down the road, I’ll be fine walking,” she insists as she puts her shoes and coat back on.
“Alright, well, text me when you get home, yeah?” Her friend says, pulling her into a hug.
“Course,” she smiles, hugging her back and heading towards the front door. “Have a great Christmas. See you for New Year’s.”
Lana waves her off and as the front door closes behind her, she’s about to head back down the pathway when the glowing ember of the end of a lit cigarette catches her eye.
She turns to see Billy leaning against the side of the house, smoking a roll up.
“You off?” He asks, exhaling a plume of smoke that’s made larger by the cold that clings to the puff of his breath.
“Yeah. Was good to see you, Billy,” she says, trying to ignore how her pulse races at the way the soft glow of the street lamp illuminates the sharpness of his side profile.
“I’ll give you a lift, if you want?” He offers, crushing his cigarette beneath his foot.
“You don’t have to do that, I’m only twenty minutes down the road,” she says, suddenly feeling awkward, putting her hands in her coat pocket.
“And you could be five minutes down the road if I drive,” he retorts with a smirk.
She sighs, her gaze softening. Not having to walk home in the cold would be nice, actually. “Yeah, go on then.”
Billy walks around to the front door, opens it and fishes around on the key hooks until he has the set he needs. They walk down the road until they reach a red VW Polo and he unlocks it.
“New car?” She asks nonchalantly, having expected to see his old silver Vauxhall Cavalier.
“Nah, this is mum’s. Haven’t had a car since…well…y’know.”
Since it blew up. Fuck, how could she be so thoughtless?!
“Oh god, Billy, I’m so sorry, I–”
“Don’t worry about it,” he says, opening the driver’s side door. “Do you mind just giving me a minute before you get in?”
She nods, keeping her hands in her pockets, watching as feels all around the car’s interior, checking inside the glove box and under the seats.
Checking for explosives.
He finally settles behind the steering wheel, gripping it tightly, attempting to calm his breaths.
“Honestly, Billy, I don’t mind walking…” she says quietly.
He looks up at her, as though just remembering she’s there. “No…no, it’s fine. I want to do it. It’s good for me, I have to.”
“Can I get in now?” She asks, giving Billy a reassuring smile.
He nods, and she walks around to the passenger’s side, climbing in and buckling her seatbealt.
Billy starts the car and they drive in silence for a few moments before he finally speaks.
“You must think I’m such a loser,” he mutters, fingers flexing against the steering wheel.
She turns slightly in her seat, shocked by what he’s said. “I’ve never thought you were a loser. Please don’t say that.”
“I’ve got no job, no car, I live with my mum and dad, can’t even drive without needing to check I won’t fucking blow up first,” he scoffs, “don’t bullshit me.”
“I’m not!” She protests. “You’ve been through so much, Billy, you need to give yourself a break.”
His lips quirk, he pulls a hand away from the steering wheel to pull at the collar of his t-shirt. “S’not just what happened though, brought it on myself dad says. I’ve always been a loser, ever since school.”
“I never thought you were,” she assures him gently, “I actually really fancied you back then.”
Billy draws in a sudden breath, glancing sideways at her as he pulls up outside of her block of flats.
How does he know where she lives? Lana must have told him.
“And now?” He asks, turning off the engine and twisting in his seat to look at her.
It feels as though all the air has left the car suddenly, as they stare at each other. She isn’t sure what possesses her, perhaps the three cans of lager she’s drunk throughout the evening, but she finds herself leaning over the centre console and pushing her lips against his.
He reciprocates, soft and unsure at first, but quickly gains confidence, his mouth moving against hers with more urgency.
She cups his face, her fingers grazing over the stubble at the corner of his jaw that he always seems to miss when shaving and she smiles into the kiss, enjoying its roughness against her fingertips.
Billy seizes the opportunity to slip his tongue into her mouth and she moans softly as it slides against her own.
Their pupils are wide with lust, the windows of the car fogged up when they finally part for breath, keeping their foreheads pressed together.
He strokes his large hand over the back of her head, his voice barely above a whisper. “Can I come up?”
She swallows thickly, not wanting to reject him, but knowing it’s not a good idea to rush things. “Not tonight, Billy, I–”
He jerks away, hurt flashing across his features, rubbing his nose on the back of his hand. “Right, yeah, sorry, was stupid to think you’d want that…”
“No, no, it’s not that!” She says, reaching over and taking his hand in hers, running her thumb over his scarred knuckles. “We’ve waited so long for this, I don’t wanna rush it. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want you, okay?”
“Yeah, yeah,” he says, his shoulders relaxing as he breathes an audible sigh of relief. “Can I text you then?”
“I’d like that,” she looks at him through hooded eyes, “let me give you my number.”
“I’ve got it, don’t worry.”
Oh. Something else Lana must have given him.
“Alright then. Well, goodnight.”
She leans over and pecks him on the lips, then exits his car.
When she goes to sleep that night it’s with a smile upon her face, knowing that her childhood crush feels the same way that she does. In the back of her mind, she knows that Lana will go mad when she finds out, but that’s a bridge she’ll cross when she gets to it.
She is less than enthused when she awakens the next day realising it’s Christmas Eve and she needs to make her annual visit to her great aunt’s for room temperature sherry, mince pies and questions about why she isn’t married with children yet.
Her face lights up when she sees a text on her phone from an unknown number and realises it’s Billy.
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She grins excitedly to herself, calling her great aunt and feigning a migraine, before showering and readying herself for her day with Billy.
True to his word in his text, the buzzer to her flat sounds an hour later and he is at her door a few moments later.
It’s awkward at first, as they both stand there sizing each other up, unsure of what to say or do, until he takes the initiative and steps forward to kiss her.
It all feels so easy and natural, as though it’s something they should always have been doing, and when he takes her hand in his as they walk into town she can’t help the way her heart skips a beat at how perfectly her hand slots into his.
They walk around the Christmas market together, hand in hand, drinking mulled wine. For the first time since they were at school together, she sees Billy laugh, a genuine, happy laugh. He makes jokes, a sparkle returning to his eyes and he looks so relaxed, she is finally able to see his potential again, all that he could be if he wasn’t constantly wallowing in self pity, lurking in Lana’s shadow and taking his parents’ criticisms to heart.
When he walks her home that evening, she doesn’t hesitate to invite him up. Gentle affirmations of “I had a nice time today” rapidly escalate to needy kisses as they tug at each other’s clothes. This is the Billy that she wants, and she sees no point in waiting any longer.
His large hands eagerly grasp at her hips as she pushes him down onto the sofa, straddling his lap.
They are a frenzied clash of lips, teeth and tongue, her hands finding their way into his hair, pulling his head back slightly to mouth at his jaw and neck. He groans at the sensation, hips bucking up to meet hers.
When he slides down his tracksuit bottoms and boxers to free the ample hardness that has been pressing against her thigh for the last five minutes, she lifts herself, meaning to remove her tights. She gasps when his long fingers pluck at the crotch, tearing them open and pushing her knickers to the side.
His digits swipe through the wetness of her folds and she shudders against him. “You on the pill?” He asks gruffly.
She nods in affirmation, a whine escaping her as he replaces his fingers with the head of his cock, slowly pressing into her.
The sounds he makes against her ear as he thrusts up into her are lewd, but with every grunt and breathy moan she clenches around him. This is a purely carnal act of desire, fulfilling years’ worth of pent up animalistic need. There will be plenty of time for gentle lovemaking, but right now she just needs to feel him, and judging by the way slams her down to meet each quick thrust, jaw slack and brow furrowed, she is certain he feels the same way.
The throbbing of him inside of her, as he spills deep within her, drives her over the edge and she peaks with a strangled cry, tightening around him in quick successive pulses.
They remain like that for a long while afterwards, resting against each other on the sofa, in the darkness of her living room.
“I’ve wanted this for so long, you’ve got no idea,” he whispers eventually, once his breathing has returned to normal.
“Me too,” she whispers.
“I wanna stay, but–”
“It’s Christmas Eve, Billy, it’s alright. You should get home before your mum gives you an earful.”
They pull unsteadily apart, adjusting their clothes, and she walks him to the door.
“I’ll text you, yeah?” He says.
“Yeah,” she smiles before kissing him softly, “Merry Christmas, Billy.”
“You an’ all,” he murmurs, pulling her into a tight hug and then walking away.
Christmas Day is uneventful. Presents and a roast at her parents’, followed by an afternoon of board games and films.
She gets a happy Christmas text from Lana, and smiles when she gets one from Billy too - the first he’s ever sent her.
By the time Boxing Day rolls around, she’s already thoroughly fed up with her family and eager to be back in her own space. She grins when her phone buzzes with a message from Billy.
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She pulls out her phone, thinking carefully about what to send to her best friend, before typing a message.
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She arrives at Billy and Lana’s parents’ house an hour later and is given a warm welcome by everyone. It’s strange not being able to interact properly with Billy, considering how close they’ve become so quickly over the last few days, however, he carries himself with a confidence she’s never seen him have in front of his family before.
He stands a little straighter, actually bothers to make eye contact when he talks to people. It spreads a warmth within her chest to see him no longer looking so downtrodden and defeatist, she can no longer sense the anger that used to simmer just below the surface like she used to be able to.
His eyes find hers whenever no one’s looking and she can’t help the smiles that she directs his way.
The leftovers have been dished up and they’ve been sitting around the TV for an hour when she goes upstairs to use the bathroom.
Noticing Billy’s bedroom door ajar on her way back downstairs, she can’t resist a peek inside. She’d never dared go in when she’d come to see Lana when they were younger. She pushes the door fully open, nose wrinkling at the rumpled bed sheets and assortment of dirty socks and boxers that litter the floor, but smiles as she casts her eye over the Oasis poster on the wall and the acoustic guitar that leans against the chest of drawers.
She twiddles absentmindedly with the PS4 controller, when a box that’s been shoved haphazardly beneath the bed catches her eye. She drags it out, pulling out a scrapbook that sits on the top.
Her heart hammers in her chest, her blood feeling as though it runs ice cold as she flips through it. It’s filled with old school photos of her, plus newer pictures that have clearly been printed off from her social media accounts.
Rummaging further into the box she pulls out items she’d assumed she’d either lost or that Lana had borrowed on the occasions she’d stayed over - there are scrunchies, old lip balms, even a pair of her underwear. Disgust causes bile to rise in her throat, a mixture of fear and disbelief quickly spreads its way through her body.
“You weren’t supposed to see that,” Billy’s voice says quietly from the doorway, causing her to gasp as she looks up in fright. “Doesn’t matter now though, don’t need that shit anymore, not now I’ve got the real thing.”
“Billy,” she pleads, her voice shaking, “what is all this?”
“I’ve always wanted you, never thought you’d feel the same though. She looked like you, y’know,” he tells her, stepping closer and shutting the door behind him.
“Who?” Tendrils of icy fear spread to her belly, every nerve in her body screaming at her to run, yet she stays rooted to her spot on the bed.
“Becky,” he says simply, “she was the spit of you. Only reason I went out with her, to be honest. I was gutted when she ended things, but she doesn’t matter now. Don’t need some cheap knock off, not when I have you.”
“Please, Billy, you’re scaring me,” she whispers, tears pricking her eyes.
“Everything’s gonna be alright. Job hunting, the bomb, none of it matters because I’ve got you.”
“Listen to yourself, this isn’t you,” she pleads, backing up on the bed away from him as he towers over her.
“You’ve seen how much better I am with you, you can’t take that away. I need you. And I make you feel good too. Look, you just need a reminder.”
He looms over her on the mattress, his hand darting between her legs and she whimpers.
“Billy, no, please…”
She wants to scream, to cry out and make him stop, but the thought of attracting the attention of Lana and her parents and them coming up here and seeing all of this is more than she can stand. So she lays there, lets Billy slide his hand up her skirt and into her underwear, hating the way her body responds to his trust.
“See?” He murmurs again the shell of her ear. “Only I can make you feel like this. Everything is gonna go my way now that you’re mine, you’ll see.”
Her vision goes watery, a combination of tears and building pleasure causing the poster on the opposite wall to blur.
She tenses as his fingers work her quickly towards her climax and she screws her eyes shut, shuddering with a quiet whine as she falls apart.
“There you go,” he coos gently, “I’ve got you now, and I’m never letting you go.”
The way he says it sends a shiver down her spine. Billy is a man with nothing to lose. He means it. He’ll never let her go.
451 notes · View notes
idyllic-affections · 10 months
Note
i’m in love with the kaveh disaster dad au you have and i would love to see alhaitham becoming closer with kavehs kid. like mr stoic over there having no idea where those books and supplies about that very niche thing they were talking about yesterday came from
newfound fondness.
summary. alhaitham grows a little more fond of the orphan kaveh insisted on adopting.
trigger & content warnings. no applicable warnings.
tropes, pairings, fic length, & other notes. fluff. alhaitham & child!reader. 0.9k words. they/them pronouns for reader.
author's thoughts. hello dear <3333 i really needed a shorter request to write bc all of my other requests are a bit more lengthy and i'm in just a little bit of a burnout state so i am delighted by this request. i love my adoptive dad kaveh series...... i also realize now that i don't really talk too much about alhaitham and his relationship with [name] compared to how often i talk about tighnari and kaveh's relationship with them. also cyno???? i have neglected him too??????
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at first, alhaitham wasn't keen on bonding with kaveh's adopted child; a child would only disrupt the comfortable life he has both built for himself and worked so hard to maintain. of course... he ended up being wrong. terribly wrong.
all throughout [name]'s first few months of being integrated into their new family in sumeru, they don't spend much time—if any at all—in kaveh and alhaitham's shared house. most of their time is spend in gandharva ville or in sumeru city, the latter being either on the weekends with kaveh or throughout the week with tighnari (if he happens to need something from the city and decides to let them tag along). given this fact, it's not at all a surprise that they didn't really know much of alhaitham, aside from the casual mentions of him from their other sumeru family members.
later on, as kaveh slowly grows into the vacant father role in their life, filling the empty space, they start spending weekends at his house... which is really the scribe's house, but at the time, that detail meant nothing to them. alhaitham never bothers to correct them, either. it doesn't really matter.
sometimes kaveh has to run errands and doesn't want to take them out in the glaring midday sun; they didn't grow up in sumeru, and they're already having a hard time adjusting to the heat (not that he's any better at handling it), so he doesn't want to risk exposing them to the sun at the peak of the day. sometimes he has to go meet one of his clients for a consultation and can't take them with him. who knows? either way, kaveh always makes these trips as quick as possible. his weekends belong to no-one but his kid. his clients find his doting behavior very cute, thankfully, so he hardly ever takes long.
alhaitham is always home during these occurrences (kaveh forbids him from leaving, since he wouldn't so much as dream of leaving his child home alone at such a young and vulnerable age—not that the scribe would leave them home alone, but still). naturally, this led to unavoidable meetings.
alhaitham quickly picked up on the many odd behavioral patterns kaveh's child displayed.
they were quiet—with him, at least. they were happy and expressive like most other children their age with kaveh or tighnari or collei, but with him? they never said a word, only speaking when spoken to, quietly shuffling around the house without so much as a peep... but more importantly, he sure as hell noticed the way they'd peek around the wall and shyly watch him as he read. they never got closer than that, though, and they'd run off if they realized he had seen them. based on this, he simply came to the conclusion that they were shy.
...or anxious, he supposes, but there is a vast difference between anxiety and shyness, and what he sees in them is not necessarily anxiety.
eventually, he does get sick of it. it's not like he worried about coming off as intimidating, no. it's just that if [name] maintains a poor image of him, it would eventually be an inconvenience for him. yes, yes, that was all. he just needed to kill a potentially dangerous rumor at its source before it got vastly out of hand. that's all.
"come here."
the way he sounds when he beckons them over is admittedly a little harsher than what he meant to be, so he's very much glad that they still do come over to him, timidly fidgeting with their sleeves.
"since you seem so interested... sit down, i'll read to you."
"h— huh? really?"
"hurry up before i change my mind."
as alhaitham reads to them, he points out words they may not understand and explains what they mean, also going as far as to help them pronounce some words that they mentioned having trouble with back at gandharva ville.
"oh... tighnari showed me that word, but i can't get it right."
they also can't pronounce tighnari's name correctly, which makes alhaitham's lips quirk upwards ever so slightly.
"here... i'll show you. which word is it that you're having trouble with?"
though it is something of a tutoring session, alhaitham finds that there's something... calming about it. he doesn't bother moving them away as they gradually get closer, only adjusting to accommodate them.
he also doesn't say anything when their weight falls a little heavier on his chest.
...did they really feel safe enough to fall asleep, just like that? the thought makes a fond warmth spread in his chest. he has no intention of telling kaveh or anyone else, though.
kaveh comes home later to see his child curled up asleep in the scribe's arms.
(the second he points it out, which of course he does, alhaitham's cheeks flush a slight pink and he coughs, telling kaveh to come get his kid and claiming that they wouldn't leave him alone.
the architect has never rolled his eyes harder than he did at that.
alhaitham's newfound fondness is obvious, but kaveh decides to leave it alone for now.)
from then on, they are just as excited and bubbly when they see alhaitham as they are when they see any of their other family. he's even gotten accustomed to hoisting them up, balancing them on his hip, and just... carrying them around.
oh, and alhaitham has no idea where those hobby supplies came from. he's got no clue where those books on a hyper-specific topic that they mentioned offhandedly the other day came from. he has no clue. none in the slightest.
...
maybe alhaitham is a little soft for them. just a little.
please consider reblogging, it helps me out quite a lot!
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honeyyjems · 10 months
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plague
content warning (s): blue lock spoilers, manga spoilers, mature language, mention/use of alcohol, hard dom!kunigami, public sex (party bedroom), unprotected sex, exhibitionism, rough sex, hate sex?, fear play, slight degradation, masochism, hair pulling, dirty talk, choking, manhandling, biting, mention of blood, overstimulation, use of pet name, bit of breeding and corruption.
summary: The breakup is eating you alive, Kunigami Rensuke plagues your body and mind even when he shouldn’t, the sweet and dirty memoires you have are all you have left. You miss him, but you don't want it to take control over you anymore. Maybe hooking up with a guy will get Kunigami out of your system. You really hoped it would because you don't know what you’ll do if it didn’t.
pairing: Wildcard!Kunigami Rensuke x fem!reader
word count: 4.2k
a/n: this is my first bluelock fic and i love kunigami so i hope to be adding some dirty yummy smut to this statue of a man. I've been reading to much dark romance books and seeing a dark kunigami triggered something deep within me *evil giggle*  also i want to tank my love kaitlyn for beta reading/editing <3
song (s) mentioned: ‘blue’ - kali uchis || ‘house of balloons’ - the weeknd
banner credit: made it myself ;)
masterlist | requests | join my tag-list
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Three months
It's been three months since you’ve heard from him, since he showed up at your front door telling you that it was over, like it was nothing; absolutely nothing. He changed. His hair, build, attitude… but it was his eyes that startled you. They would shine when they looked into yours, but the ones you stared into were dull and devoid of light. The words that came out his mouth still haunt you when you have moments alone; Plaguing your mind and soul.
You still kept in contact with your friends that were Kunigamis. They treated you with nothing but kindness and support. When Reo finally explained what had happened in his last moments with Kunigami, a dark tension dawned on you. The way your blood went cold and your hands clammy; What had he felt in that moment? You were worried about him after Isagi and Chigiri told you their concerns on what might’ve happened to Kunigami in “Wildcard”. But that didn’t excuse his behavior towards you.
Soccer was something Kunigami had always loved more than anything, until you. You understood his priorities and never overstepped yourself; Encouraging him when he felt defeated. When Bluelock entered the picture, you pushed him into it. Although he would be away from you and everyone he held most dear, this was his chance to prove to himself he could be the soccer hero he’s always wanted to be. 
When he appeared on your doorstep three months ago, practically spitting in your face with the disgusting words, throwing you away, and the entire relationship, it was an utter shock. It was hard to move on, and you were trying your very best to keep everything together; However, today was the day you decided you really needed him out of your fucking system.
Dee’s voice brought you out of your head, “Are you fucking serious?” she exclaimed. The words that fell from your lips were a surprise to yourself but you needed this; You wanted this.
“Yes…” You paused and tilted your head. “I think so.” you replied. 
Dee’s eyes stared into yours, still processing, making a giggle escape your lips. Standing at the hood of Dee’s car, you turned and walked towards her driveway, hearing her shuffle behind you.
You threw your hand up, your back still faced towards her, “Don’t make me fucking regret it, Dee.” you teased. 
Dee scoffed, “Oh babe, you’ll thank me for it.”
Hearing Dee take out her phone to call up your friends to pregame for the party tonight, the sound bled into the background, covered by your racing thoughts. Kunigami has consumed you, in body and soul. When you touched yourself, it was his hands that trailed your body. It was his lips on your neck. His scent of cedarwood on your skin and clothes.
God fucking damn it.
All you wanted was the heartache and memories to go away. Maybe hooking up with a guy will get Kunigami out of your head. You really hoped it would because you don’t know what you’ll do if it didn’t.
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
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“Are you sure you're fine?” Chigiri asked for the ninth time tonight.
Bringing down the shot glass from your lips and letting it hit with a thump on the table, “Yes for the… how many times now?” You say with slight annoyance, using your fingers to mock count to Chigiri.
A laugh falls from his lips, “Okay, okay.” he says, bringing his hands up in defiance. Yours eyes meet his, everything that wasn't said could be said with just the look in his eyes. He hates that he knows the pain you still feel inside. Clearing your throat, turning to look to your left, you see the guy who's been staring at you all night, your eyes meeting across the bar. A buzz lingers on your skin, he was already undressing you with his gaze alone.
Chigiri’s eyes follow your gaze, seeing everything unfolding before him. You feel a nudge on your arm, but you still maintain eye contact. “You still have that condom I gave you?” he teases, making you turn and nudge him with your hip. As you both laugh at each other, Chigiri leans down and kisses the top of your head, “Have fun, okay?” he breathes into your hair. Nodding in response, he turns and leaves, assumingely to find the rest of his friends.
As you reach to grab the Bacardi to pour into your shot glass, you feel eyes on you. His eyes. No, it’s not his eyes you assured yourself. Gripping the shot glass, you bring it to your lips, swinging your head back. The burn you feel in the beginning of the night is practically gone.
A broad body stands beside you, “God, look at you.” the guy whispers into your ear. “Eye candy alright...”
The black mini dress always hugged the right places around your body. A devious smile spreads across your face, “Want a taste?” you toy. 
You feel his arm wrap around your waist as he presses himself into your back. You feel him already stiff in his pants. Holding the groan that almost slips out, you turn to face him. His lips and breath lingers on top of your lips, just a hair away. Getting on your toes, you lick his cupid's bow. 
You had no idea where this confidence came from, but alcohol is to thank for this boost. His hand grabs yours, trailing you behind him into the back of the house away from the crowd. Walking behind him, your head starts to spin in doubt, but fades as you enter a dark room.
The guy, you still don’t know his name, nor do you care to learn it, flips the light switch. “No,” you say as you reach quickly to turn them off again. Darkness filling the room again.
“You afraid of the dark?” you ask in a low voice. There was silence, but the muffled sound of Kali Uchis’s ‘Blue’ through the walls.
“Fuck no,” he growls in the darkness. His lips crash into yours. The kiss was desperate and fast, his fingers sinking into the back of your neck with his thumb on your check, deepening the kiss. Trailing your hand up his shirt, you grip it as you pull him with you to walk more into the darkness. Your back hits the wall with a thud, but that doesn’t stop anything. He licks the top of your lip signaling to let him in. You open up for him obediently, his tongue exploring yours.
A whimper escapes you, his mouth swallowing the sound. He nudges his knee in between your legs, making you arch into him. Tilting your head back to breathe, his lips descend to the crook of your neck. You grind yourself into his leg to add friction to the throbbing pain between your legs. His fingers tug on the strap of your dress bringing it down, leaving a wet kiss in its place.
Closing your eyes, you let your overwhelming need engulf you, but a soft light flashed underneath your lids causing you to open them. The light disappears fast as it comes, you stare into the darkness. His hand lays on top of your hip, digging into them. Grabbing his neck, you bring him back to your lips, kissing him rougher this time; showing him you want him now. The sound of groans and heavy breathing fills the room.
With your eyes closed you feel yourself turn, the side of your face on the wall. His hand clutches the back of your head, pulling the hair causing your head to fall back towards him. He grinds himself into your ass, feeling his hard cock on you. Pushing your ass back into him, his groans tickle the back of your ear. A sharp throb hits your clit, as you feel his other hand pull your black dress up.
The cool air hits your hot skin. He brings your hands to lay on the wall, as you dig your nails into the surface as he continues to dry hump you through his pants. With the added friction to your clit, you could feel your orgasm creeping, but then it was gone.
The guy pulls away, leaving you standing alone in the darkness. All you could hear was shuffling and heavy breathing. Since you were facing the wall, you couldn't see anything. A faint light fills the room and disappears with the loud shut of the door. The sound makes you flinch and turn, but you are only met with blackness staring back at you.
“H- hello?” you stammer.
Silence. Your breathing quickens, making your body tense with uneasiness.
“Pussy…” you scoff, “Won’t finish what you started?” 
You fix the strap on your shoulder and tug your dress back down, and wait. Hoping to hear a snarky remark. Anything. 
Once again, silence. You only hear the song ‘House of Balloons’ through the walls. You push yourself off the wall to walk towards the door, a hand hits the center of your chest shoving you back. Fear claws your skin, making your blood run cold. 
Your chest rises and falls with each breath you take. Is this guy fucking around with you now? But you weren't going to back down; two can play at that game.
“What do you want from me?” you question the person, trying to hide the shake in your voice. He didn't move, nor did he say anything. You've grown tired of always wondering what every outcome will be, this was the moment where you’d just see where this goes, even if it’s scary.
“What do you want?” You yell. A lump forms in your throat making it hard to swallow. Nothing. You didn't want to ask the question that came into your head, but you needed to.
“Are.. are you going to hurt me?” You ask.
“I dont know.”
What the fuck? He doesn't know?
Swallowing hard, “Do you want to?” you question.
“A little.”
His voice was low and breathy, masking it under the quietness in the room.
“Why?” you ask, heart thumping in your ears.
“Because I'm messed up,” he answers. You hold your breath, staying as silent as you can, hoping he wouldn’t continue.
“I can't feel anything but fear anymore,” he whispers, “It consumes me.” Your hands began to shake beside you.
You hear him take a step. “I don't know what I'll do.” he said.
You couldn't see where he was in the darkness but you could feel his heavy stare on you. A snarl rips through the air, his lip smashing into yours. The kiss was hungry, like he was starving. He manhandles you, his rough, large hand gripping your hip while the other latches into your hair. He yanks it, making you yelp into his mouth, giving him the chance to slip his tongue in. He tastes different than before.
No. 
Maybe the fear in you was making you hyper aware.
You move your hands into his hair, feeling an undercut. 
Was that there before? 
You squeeze his locks in between your fingers. He groans, his hold in your hair tightening even more, the sting on your scalp becoming stronger. However, the assault on your mouth soothes it. You catch a small hint of a scent. 
Wha- no I’m just imagining it, you think.
You didn't want to feel or think anything. Maybe he will hurt you, but you didn't care. Hell, just him scaring you is making you soak through your panties. 
God, you were sick in the head. Feeling his hand slip under your dress and lightly press a finger against your center.
“Already soaked.” he taunts. “…didn't take much.” you growl at his comment.
A chuckle bubbles up from him, “I wanted to see something,” he says. “And I was right.”
You freeze, knowing exactly what he meant. You push him off of you, making him stumble back. You swing your hand in front of you to hit him, but he grabbed your wrist before you could. His heavy breathing matches yours, and he places your hand on his chest.
A cold metal chain hit on your fingers. Trying to get your breathing under control, you hold the chain trailing your fingers down, following its coolness before something stops you when it hits the end. A pendant. Tracing your forefinger over the pendant, feeling it, but you freeze in place.
A snake pendant. You know that fucking pendent. You bought it yourself.
You throw your palms into his chest, shoving him as hard as you can, but he doesn't even budge. He grabs the sides of your arms, securing them beside you. “Let me go, '' you demand.
“Why?” he says roughly. It's the voice you almost thought you’d never hear again.
“Fuck you,” you bark. “Let me go.”
“Fuck you?” he growls. “I'll do more than that.”
You were fuming, anger boils at the bottom of your stomach. Who the fuck does he think he is? He was the one that left everything behind.
“You won’t do anything,” you hiss, pushing your body against his to try to loosen his grip around you. But it did only the opposite. He brings your body into his, holding you in a tight embrace, locking your arms under his strong ones.
You can feel him, smell him. The scent of cedarwood fills your nose. He’s here. This smell should've disgusted you, but it only made your heart melt. You hold in your breath trying to not devour his smell.
“Let me go or I’ll fucking bite you.” you snap.
“I was counting on it,” He whispers into your ear, his hot breath sending chills down your spine.
He doesn’t need to tell you twice. You sink your teeth into his shoulder, feeling the soft cotton and flesh underneath. A light chuckle comes from him, making you bite harder. Shut the fuck up, motherfucker. Increasing the pressure each second, but he doesn’t move. This has to be hurting him. You can hear his breaths becoming raspy and deep.
“Har- harder,” he stutters. His hold on you gets tighter. You freeze. You wanted to hurt him, but biting any harder would break his skin. Kunigami Rensuke, please don-
“Harder!” he barks, making you flinch at the sudden outburst, but you do as he says. 
You sink your teeth harder into him, feeling his soft flesh break under the pressure, tasting a hint of copper on your tongue.
Kunigami hisses as he takes a short breath. You feel tears at the brim of your eyes. I’m sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sor- You slowly loosen your jaw around him, setting your forehead against the front of his shoulder.
There’s only the sound of your breaths in the room, the hum of the party, the world on the outside.
“I’m sorry,” he says with a sense of guilt. The world stops, just for a second.
“I’m sorry for all the pain I caused.” he whispers as you hear his heart racing, “The trouble.”
There was a pregnant pause.
“But most of all… I’m sorry for breaking your heart.”
Everything comes crashing down, breaking into a million pieces. Yes, he did hurt you, but you know you would be there for him in a heartbeat. Your heart will always beat for Kungami Rensuke. We want what we want. You know it's bad to want him after everything he’s done, but you want to let him know that you’re there for him at this moment; right now you want him.
His hold on you had long loosened, softening into a warm embrace. You bring your hand down to his, grabbing and placing it around your neck, your hand layered on his.
“Ren,” you say softly, “I want you.”
You feel him tense and take in a sharp breath. You tighten your hand around his, making the hold firm.
“I want… you.” you say, making sure he understands what you are trying to really say. Never knowing what really made him change, you know it is still Kunigami. This Kunigami is scared and broken, but fixing him isn’t on your mind; you want to help him.
His mouth slams onto yours again, but this time you are the one hungry, starving. Your teeth clang against each other, taking whatever you both can take. Kunigami sucks on your bottom lip giving it a small bite, making your clit throb under you. A whimper comes from you remembering how good it feels to have him all over. His hold on your neck tightens as he pushes you back to the wall, his hand on your neck holding you in place.
Standing in front of each other, you wait for his next move. The cool air covers your breasts as you hear a loud rip of fabric, your dress. He ripped the front of your dress with one hand. You didn't even bother wearing a bra with your outfit tonight. Your nipples harden under the cool of the air, being in the dark make your senses even more heightened. Kunigami’s mouth lowers to your chest, sucking and biting your left breast. Arching into him, you try to grind on something, anything to relieve the throbbing pain between your legs.
Kunigami’s mouth switches to the other breast, sucking, but gives a small bite right next to your nipple. You quiver under him, as he continues teasing your nipple between his teeth and tongue. You can’t take it anymore, you want him inside you.
“Ren.. please.” you beg. The nickname you know he loves so much. You slide your palms under his shirt, feeling his toned abs and pecs.
His mouth on you doesn’t stop but moves up your neck, leaving wet sloppy kisses in its trail. Kunigami’s grip on your neck moves to your chin. The weight of his eyes on you feel so heavy, you don’t know if you are looking into them, but you can fucking feel them.
“Please what?” he says amusingly. 
Trying to swallow the dryness in your mouth, “Please fuck me.” You whimper, “I need you inside me.”
“I love hearing when you beg for it,” he says with a smile on his face.
He moves away from you, tearing your dress even more, feeling the ripped fabric rip down the middle. It was in shreds while it hung beside your body. All you have is your black lace thong. Shame is what you should be feeling, but there was none.
Kunigami returns to you, and roughly pushes you in the chest as he settles himself between your legs. He still hadn’t taken his hard cock out but you can feel the giant bulge against your slick pussy. He brings his hand to your pussy, just holding you there. You hold your breath.
“This belongs to me,” Kunigami says, “You are mine.” You whimper at his comment.
He presses his finger into you through your thong, getting a gasp from you. A low grunt comes from him, “Who do you belong to?” Kunigami presses, “Say it.”
You freeze, but he pushes another finger into you. Your legs shake so hard, leaving to collapse on him any second. “Say it.” He says again.
“I-I’m” you hesitate. A third finger pushes into you, stretching you wide even through your thong. “To you…” you declare, “I belong to you.”
“That's my baby doll.”
He takes his fingers out of you and grabs the hem of the tong and rips it off. Shivers spread all across your skin at the rough handling. You hear the jingle of his belt, your pussy clenches at the sound. Something soft hits the ground before he has his hands on you again. Kunigami presses you on the wall, placing his hand under your knee, opening you up for him.
Kunigami rams his cock into you without any resistance, making you gasp at the sudden stretch. You’ve never felt so full, and he is so deep inside you. Not a second to waste, Kunigami pounds into you, the slap of his balls hitting your pelvic. Each hard stroke, you can feel every ridge of his cock, the vein on it sliding against your clit.
You clench around him, he groans loud. “You like it when I treat you like a sleeve?” He says, not sounding at all out of breath.
He gets his response by you clenching on him again. He continues his pounding, setting a fast rhythm. The room fills with skin smacking and the obscene sound your pussy makes as you suck him in.
You need to hold onto something, so you hold onto his shoulders, feeling his soft hot skin on your hands. Keeping the pace, Kunigami places his other hand under your other knee, hoisting you up on the wall; Only leaving you to hold onto him. Leaving you at his mercy. Heat fills your center, your orgasm coming close.
You wrap your arms around his neck and crash your mouth on his, kissing him passionately and eagerly. You suck on his tongue, savoring his taste.
“Rensuke,” You moan, “I-I’m.” You lay your forehead on his shoulder, but hear him hiss. The bite. You lift your head and place your mouth over the bite, licking it, the copper taste on your tongue. Kunigami grunts as you continue to lick the wound you made.
His thrusts begin to falter just a bit, signaling he’s almost there too. You place your entire mouth on the bite, and suck on it.
“Oh,” Kunigami says, “You’re fucking dirty.” Your moan is muffled as you suck harder on his shoulder.
“I'm going to fill your pussy with my cum.” he growls, “I’m claiming what's mine.”
You groan on him and your pussy clenches at the comment. Kunigami flattens his palm against your pelvis and applies firm pressure. Your spine nearly breaks at the sensation, feeling him so much more intensely.
“Come on, baby doll.” Kunigami grunts, “Come on me.”
With those words, a flash of white hits behind your eyes. A shock runs through you, making you groan so loud and clear for him. Your body convulses against him but Kunigami still keeps ramming his cock into you. You just hold on for the ride as you come down. His name is pouring from your lips. The overstimulation brings tears to your eyes. You shut your eyes tight and squeeze yourself around his cock.
Kungami’s thrusts shudder, “Fu-FUCK,” he grunts loud into your ear as he loads you with white hot liquid. He fills you, doing exactly what he told you. His cock and cum all in you, claiming you as his. He gives you a couple more slow and hard pumps before he holds himself inside you. His cock still pulsing inside as you both try to catch your breaths.
Kunigami slowly takes himself out with a loud pop at the end of his cock, leaving you to mewl at the sudden emptiness. You feel so empty and weak but so euphoric. He gently places you back on your feet; However, still holding you up.
He presses his forehead against yours. Time stands motionless. Not a word was uttered, but there was a lot being said. Kunigami softly drops his hands, leaving you alone in the darkness. You feel him leave you and hear his feet as he walks. Away from you. Once again, you are alone in the dark without him.
A light switch being flicked on sounds in the room. A sudden burst of light makes you flinch, making you squint your eyes and place a hand over your face. A light chuckle fills the room as you pull down your hand.
You know you looked like an absolute mess, completely fucked out and naked; besides the, now ripped and shredded, black dress around you.
“Seriously?” You say, flicking your hand at him, middle finger in the air. A loud laugh bursts from his mouth, the sound brings butterflies to your stomach. You can’t help but laugh as well. You both laugh lost in the moment, but as it dies, reality settles in.
“This doesn't fix anything.” you say softly, looking into his auburn eyes.
Kunigami stares back into you, “It’s a start.” he says.
Breaking the stare, he walks over to his shirt and hoodie on the floor. Kunigami slips into his shirt, but you can’t help but stare at his body. He already settled himself under his boxers but his v-line peeks beneath the undone jeans. The feel of his seed seeps down your inner thighs.
Something hit your face making you gasp. His black hoodie falls into your arms. A tiny smile breaks on your face but you quickly drop it. You slip on the hoodie and Kunigami’s scent swallows you whole.
No one really knows what happened to Kunigami in “Wildcard", but he’s still him. Although he’s changed, you don’t want to change nor fix him. You want to understand where he is. He is sure guilty for all the sins he’s done. Maybe he has always had this dark side to him and it's just coming up to the surface. Kunigami is afraid, but he doesn’t need to be.
A shadow needs a light and you are his.
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tag-list: @kentosovertime @sugarbooger513 @sugarmapoops @bebechinas99 @katgalle @akisbrew
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241 notes · View notes
hina-hina · 1 year
Note
i LOVED könig friends to lovers. maybe ghost w friends to lovers? ❤️❤️❤️
Hello friend!! Of course I can do that one for you! Thank you for requesting, I hope you enjoy!! (○` 3′○)
This came out as more of a childhood friend trope because I got a good idea for it (o′┏▽┓`o)
This fic has a good amount about Ghost's backstory, nothing too in depth but if you don't know what I'm talking about, a good glance over his Fandom page should be find (trigger warning for content within).
This is eventually a rewrite of Ghost's backstory but with you as his childhood friend/partner. Some details have been changed and is no way accurate to his actual backstory.
→ COD Masterlist
|| Ghost Having a Friends to Lovers Trope With Reader ||
Tags: Friends to Lovers Trope, Fluff, Hurt!Ghost, Comfort, Childhood Friends, Getting Together, Pre-Relationship, Protective Ghost,
Warnings: Talks of Ghost's backstory (child abuse, neglect, and murder), heavy angst at some parts, mentions of torture and injuries (non graphic)
Gender-Neutral!Reader // Romantic
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So, we all know how awful Ghost's childhood is
It wasn't really the place where friends were easily made
So I imagine for this trope to work, it has to be a forced proximity situation
So, like you were a neighbor kid or perhaps like a teacher assigned tutor for him
Nevertheless, despite Ghost having trouble getting close to anyone, you were always there and eventually the two of you fell into an easy friendship
If your more talkative, he would let you take the lead in conversations, happy to just listen and insert little comments here and there
If your quiet like him, the two of you are content to just sit in silence with each other
The two of you also had this kinda quick-witted banter with each other, even if your more on the quiet side
As the two of you got closer, he tried harder to keep his home life away from you
Partly because he didn't want to burden you and partly because he didn't want to soil his "happy place" with what happens at his house
However you do eventually find out one day when he comes to you after he gained a pretty bad bite from a snake because he needs help cleaning it
The night is spent quietly sitting in your bathroom floor as you clean his wounds, him not even flinching when the peroxide touches the bite
You, very gently as to not spook him, wrap him up in your arms and tell him that you will always be there for him no matter what
He says nothing, carefully returning the hug
The two of you get older and when he tells you that he wants to go into the military, you respect that decision despite how much it scares you
You support him as he reconnects with his brother and gets him clean, you even go to his wedding as Simon's "date"
Your sure he means it in a platonic way
He does not
Eventually the two of you have some sort of disagreement (Because of course I have to add drama to these)
Unfortunately, this argument happens right before he leaves to go on a mission to take down the Zaragoza Drug Cartel
To take down Manuel Roba
He had already told you he was going on a short mission in Iran before he had been attached to the American team and had no time to inform you of the sudden change in plans
Therefore, all you had left of him when he went MIA was a unanswered Voicemail from the day he left on the mission
You spent many nights listening to this voicemail, wrapping yourself up in the hoodies he left behind, crying for him because you didn't know if he was even still alive
The military would barely tell Simon's family anything and you were told even less, left to think he had just died somewhere they couldn't retrieve his body and the last conversation you had was a petty argument
Months pass and eventually you move farther away from your childhood town in Manchester, not really keeping in contact with Simon's family beyond short phone calls
You get a phone call from Simon's brother one day, him claiming that Simon was found on the border of Texas, injured but alive
You go to meet him at the hospital and at first he tries to hide his face from you
After you urging, he shows you that he now has many facial scars, including a Glasgow Smile, and he was afraid of what you would think of them
It's a rare show of vulnerability, one that causes you to press a soft kiss to his lips and exclaim to him that you don't care what he looks like, just that your happy he is home
Simon is put on leave from active duty to heal his injuries and he lives with you during this time
He also develops a bad temper, usually causing it to come out whenever you push him to talk about what happened
This causes him to shout and run off, often being gone for many hours at a time
The two of you never really put a name to what you are but it's obviously romantic
He would return home after a while, apologizing profusely
He explains to you how terrified he is of becoming his father and than he would never forgive himself if he laid a hand on you
These nights usually ended up with him crying silently and allowing you to hold him, you telling him that he isn't anything like his father
He then meets up with two of the teammates he had from the Roba mission, realizing they have been brainwashed by Roba
He gets a frantic call from his brother, and goes there to see that his family had been killed by Washington.
He kills Washington before realizing Sparks is not there, quickly calling you
He quickly drives to your apartment, see that it has been broken into
He fears your already dead, but instead finds you severely injured
He cries over your body, trying desperately to get you to wake up
He holds your body as the ambulance arrives, he leaves you in the hospital after leaving again to find Sparks and kill him
He leaves to Mexico, eventually killing him and gaining all of his Intel causing him to be recruited into the 141
He returns home to leave that you had been in critical condition but pulled through, not awake and lucid and asking for him
He enters your room, slowly, not yet approaching your bed
Despite this you smile when you see him, asking him if he is hurt
The breaks him, he crouches by your bedside and grabs your hand:
"Love, I thought you were dead and you're asking me if I am ok? You're outta your damn mind..."
He tells you what happened to his family, that you are in danger by just being associated with him and that you should get out while you still can
You smile, placing a hand on his masked cheek before taking it off
You see tears lingering on his waterline, gently brushing them away with the pad of your thumb
You tell him that you are with him through everything and there is no way your walking away now
He promises to make sure nothing ever happens to you
You help him organize the funeral, hold his hand while he says goodbye to his family
The two of you move to London to be closer to the Task Force's base, him urging you to keep his name a secret from those that you talk with
He looks forward to coming home to you, hiding a ring in his bedside table and saving it for the right moment
Thank you for reading!! ⇣Taglist⇣ @scarlettproof @unabashednightmarepizza @kk00789 @cl0udii-m00n @polar2oidsworld @meepsters-world @uwu-i-purple-you
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yanderes-galore · 3 months
Note
Can I request ragnvaldr hc from f&h?
Sure! Honestly the last main Funger 1 character I have to do after this is probably Enki if he's requested. Not fully proofread, there may be mistakes.
Yandere! Ragnvaldr Concept
Pairing: Romantic/Platonic
Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Trauma, Dark themes, Death/Mass Murder, Violence, Threats, Blood, Gore, Jealousy, Possessive/Protective behavior, Forced relationship, Fear and Hunger content.
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Ragnvaldr was born with the soul of the tormented, he's destined to struggle in his life... which is what made him what he is.
I feel his obsession counts as one of those struggles.
He's incredibly strong and has an iron will.
He was forced to come back to his home to see his entire tribe and village dead by The Knights of The Midnight Sun.
This included his wife and child.
He enters the Dungeons of Fear and Hunger to find Le'garde and exact revenge.
In fact, his only goal is revenge.
Yet while try to pursue his goal, he finds you.
You are pleasant distraction... a sight for sore eyes in a place such as the dungeons.
Ragnvaldr tries not to distract himself too much with you, he has a goal.
But you still manage to tag along... at first just following from behind.
When he confronts you and asks what you're planning, you say you want to help his quest.
You don't want to be alone here.
For some reason, Ragnvaldr takes pity on you and allows you to follow along with him.
Perhaps you reminded him of the family he used to have.
Ragnvaldr, despite his appearance, is capable of being kind.
When you follow along on his quest he teaches you important skills.
While he's capable of taking on threats, you stick by to heal him and keep him going with whatever supplies you find.
You try not to ask much about his motivations but you can tell he's hellbent on something.
I feel out of the entire main cast for Funger 1, Ragnvaldr is the most terrifying as a yandere due to his physical prowess.
I feel Cahara is bad due to his touchy and persistent nature, D'arce is bad due to her delusional behavior, Enki may be bad psychologically, but Ragnvaldr is bad since he is so strong.
You've seen how he can tear through threats in this place.
Especially if you see how he treats Le'garde when he gets his hands on him.
You look away when Ragnvaldr deals with Le'garde, if the fool is even alive when you get there.
It's not the worst thing you've seen.
Ragnvaldr probably uses you as a way to cope with the loss of his family.
That can be by seeing you as a close companion or perhaps even another romantic partner.
Ragnvaldr seems like he's be possessive but also protective.
He won't admit it but he dreads the thought of losing you.
As a result he works hard to keep you beside him.
If you seem upset or are losing sanity, he'll be by your side to hold you.
He probably dislikes you taking in other people to the group, like Cahara, D'arce, or Enki.
However, he holds his rage back.
Oh... but imagine Ragnvaldr during his S Ending as a yandere.
You watch as this man slaughters every paranormal creature in his path, all to soothe his bloodlust and protect you.
Seeing Ragnvaldr covered in blood becomes the norm for you.
He probably would even target party members, driven completely by the thought that they could take you.
At the peak of his obsession there's a good chance Ragnvaldr is covered in blood, giving you a stare that's both of adoration and something else entirely.
You originally followed him for protection... but now you fear he's a monster like the rest of the creatures in this dungeon.
But there's nothing much you can do when he pulls you into his bare chest, the blood smearing on your clothes and face.
He holds your face with bloody hands, he vows he won't ever hurt you or let anything hurt you.
Really... what can hurt you anymore?
Ragnvaldr would/already has slaughtered everything and everyone you come across.
All that's left is the blood on you and him.
He looks at you with such... obsession.
You could almost mistake it for care.
Now you're nearly completely alone, except for the Outlander in front of you.
He'll even drag you out of the dungeons with him, covered in blood, the both of you affected by the horrors you've seen.
You would call it bad...
But honestly, nothing compares to the horrors you've seen in there.
Not even the blood and gore Ragnvaldr leaves behind as he swears to care for you.
"Now nothing can hurt you... I won't let it. Every creature and person who dares to touch you will die by my hands... painfully.... Nothing will come between you and me, not even the gods."
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Three for One 2
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Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, cheating, customer service abuse, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: As a customer service associate, you’re used to work with a wide variety of characters. Your efforts to go above and beyond draw the attention of a certain set of customers who want more than what’s on the shelf.
Character: Andy Barber, Lloyd Hansen, Ransom Drysdale
Note: The ho-lidays are the daddies and the baddies.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me &lt;3
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)
Love you all. Take care. 💖
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You bob around to the tinkling of carols as they waft over the store. Unlike your coworkers, you enjoy the repetitive tunes. They are so fun and bright and help the time pass between customers and stocking. Not that there isn't more than enough to keep you busy.
In the rare moment where you aren't distracted, you let yourself browse the colourful lipsticks and shining perfume bottles all around. You don't have anyone to shop for, not even yourself. You have your dollar store glosses and discount nail polishes. You don't see the need to spend too much on those things. Or maybe you just prefer what you know. Simple and cheap.
Around lunchtime, traffic really picks up. Several customers ignore your approach and brush by you before you can entice them into buying some Chanel. You've already hit your sales targets but you never really think of numbers.
A woman stops you and asks for a very specific palette. You know just the one. You think it's cute, it looks like a cupcake, and while you adore the aesthetic, it isn't worth the price tag. It's just powder!
You show her where it is and Luanne comes over to take the reins. She's the makeup genius, her flawless contour is proof enough. You turn to float back to your zone and see a man watching you. You recognise him! Vaguely. You see a lot of people in a day.
"Good afternoon," you sing as you near him, "anything I can help you with?"
His throat bobs as he cheek ticks, "uh, yeah, er..." he pushes back his gray jacket, tucking his hands in his pants pockets, "you remember me?"
You smile as you try not to show your cluelessness, "I think..."
"I came in last week," he says.
You think, scrunching up your face as you tap your chin, "yes! You bought Liz Taylor for you mother."
"Mother-in-law," he corrects you, not unkindly.
"Yes, that's it," you jab your finger upwards, "you complimented my sweater."
"Yeah, that was me," He finally smiles, "anyway, I was thinking of getting a gift for my wife. Just a little stocking stuffer."
"Oh, that sounds so cute," you nearly squee. You get so excited to help people shop for a loved one. At the same time, you feel that void. Maybe one day you'll have a husband thinking of you. "We have some great gift sets, actually. They come with different scents so you're wife can figure out which one she likes best." You direct him over to a shelf, "oh, and if she has a favourite, you can get her a full bottle for Valentine's!"
He gives you a look. His eyes narrow just a bit and his cheeks round, "that's a good idea."
He glances over the shelf and you wait patiently. He turns back to you, his eyes flitting over your name tag as he reads it out, "do you have a suggestion?"
"Me?" You perk up, "well, I actually like the Coach. It's not too expensive and it's nice and subtle."
"Is that what you wear?" He asks.
"I don't... I use some cherry blossom body spray but I usually smell like the whole store by the end of the day," you shrug.
"Cherry blossom," he nods, "oh, by the way, I'm Andy."
He offers his hand in an overly formal way. You giggle but take it nonetheless. You don't really get that often.
"Sorry," he squeezes your hand firmly before letting go, "lawyer, habit."
"No, it's fine," you assure him, "I'm just a perfume salesman, is all."
"Well, you're really good at your job," he praises.
"How do you know?" You say.
"You're friendly and helpful. I have no complaints," he reaches past you and claims the Coach pack, "she's going to love this. I owe you."
"No problem. Do you need me to ring you up?"
"Actually," he sighs, "she has this idea. Christmas card. I'm supposed to find a sweater. So, I need to look around some more."
"Oh, that's so cool. A Christmas card? The sweaters are just over in the men's, right near the east entrance," you point, "they have some really cute Charlie Brown ones."
"Charlie Brown," he repeats.
"Anyway, I'll let you go," you clutch your hands together, "I hope your wife likes the perfume."
"I'm sure she will," he agrees, hesitantly clapping the kit between his hands, "uh, thanks. Again." He leans back on his heel, "oh and, that's a really nice colour on you."
"Uh," you look down at your gem green blouse, "thank you, sir."
"Andy," he insists, walking backwards, "again, you're a life saver."
You grin proudly and he spins on his heel, nearly knocking into Luanne as she comes over. He apologises as he side steps her and continues on. She gives you a strange look.
"Geez," she grumbles, "people. This time of year makes everyone so crazy."
"Well, he was nice," you say.
"Kinda cute, too," she intones.
"He was shopping for his wife."
"Lucky lady," she scoffs, "so, you wanna go on lunch first? I'm dying for a latte."
"You can go, I don't mind," you say, "I'm not very hungry."
"Deal," she winks, "I'll get you a hot chocolate for your trouble."
"You don't have to do that."
"I don't have to, I want to, sweetie," she preens.
"Fine, fine, I accept your coerced hot chocolate.”
🎀
Another day close to complete. It's like checking off items on a list. Each evening seems to darken sooner than the last, every morning rising too soon.
You yawn at the empty fragrance section as it’s only you left for the last hour. There isn't much to do except balance the till. Your headset keeps you entertained as electronics calls out possible shrink and home goods argue about their numbers.
“We need a body at returns,” Lucille cuts through the chatter. “Now.”
No answer comes and you slowly slide your hand up the wire. Before you can hit the button, your name is snarled from the other end. You're ordered up to cash to assist with the hordes.
You leave the ghost town that is beauty and as good as skip up to the front. You calm your step as you see Lucille sneering at you from behind a machine. You give a tiny smile and claim the extra screen behind returns. 
“I can help the next person,” you call and wave your hand in the air.
You stand back and wait for your first customer. A man comes up and throws a torn open package on the counter, the item bouncing out of the plastic. You flinch and barely catch it before it can slide off the other edge.
“Hello, sir,” you bat your lashes, “how are you today?”
“Not fucking well,” the man snarls. His mustache tickles your memory; do you know him? “It’s a piece of shit.”
“Oh, okay,” you look down at the trimmer and examine it, “you’d like to do a return?”
“Yes, I’d like to do a return,” he snaps, “are you dim?”
“Of course, sir,” you punch in your ID and passcode, “I’ll just get you going. Do you have your receipt?”
“A receipt? I bought the damn thing here, look it up.”
“Ah, alright, when did you buy it?”
“You don’t remember, little trigger finger,” he sneers.
“What do you mean?”
“Pfft, right, you think spraying people with skunk spray is fun?”
“Um, no?” Your cheeks tremor as you withhold a frown; you think you know him now as you’re hit by a sudden wave of Gucci cologne, the scent of a memory. “Did you have the card you purchased this with?”
“You don’t think I have money?”
Everything he says is aggressive. Your questions bounce off him like accusations. You don’t know what to say that won’t agitate him further, He huffs and kicks a foot out, leaning on his back heel as he reaches in his back pocket.
He flicks a black card onto the counter, “put it back on this.”
You nod and take the card, examining the nameless front. You turn it over and swipe it in the machine instead to search the number. He scoffs, “bet you never seen one of those up close.”
“Sir,” you smile bigger, letting the insult ping off of you. All the money in the world and he has no manners.
You find the purchase with the same sku and put his card back on the counter. He snatches it up as you start the return. You scan the barcode and continue on to the next screen, “what’s your name, sir?”
“Lloyd,” he answers curtly. You type, waiting, then look up at him, “Hansen.” He finishes sharply, “with an E, got it?”
“Yes, sir, and the reason for return?”
He rolls his eyes, “it doesn’t fucking work.”
“Alright. So it doesn’t cut the hair or–”
“It won’t turn on,” he growls.
“Right,” you take the trimmer and turn it over. It looks fine enough, even after he threw it. You slip the door of the battery compartment off. It’s empty, “and you had double As in it?”
“Double As?” He repeats.
“It needs batteries, sir.”
He pauses, eyes flaring, nostrils flaring.
“You think I’m stupid? That I don’t fucking know that? You’re not getting free fucking batteries from me.”
“Of course, sir, of course,” you rarely feel this addled, even this time of year, “I’ll get you your money back on a gift card–”
“Gift card? I want my money,” he holds up his card between two fingers.
“Yes, sir, I understand. As per our return policy, personal care items, once opened, are only eligible for a store credit return. Or you can exchange for another item. Would you like to look at our other trimmers? I can put this aside while–”
“What? How would I know that?” He hisses.
“It says on the receipt, sir.”
“I don’t have the goddamn receipt,” he barks.
“I know, sir, sorry. I can only refund this amount on a gift card. I can’t override the option.”
“I want a manager. NOW!” He demands as you jump in your shoes.
“I… I’ll see if she’s avail–”
Lucille has you jumping even more as she appears beside you, no doubt drawn by the raging man in front of you. She elbows you out of the way, not even acknowledging you as she puts on her mask. She leans on the counter just slightly.
“Sir, is there something I can help with? I’m the manager,” she says.
“I want my money,” he echoes once more. “I bought a defective product and I don’t want store credit. I drove out here twice for this bullshit.”
“Oh, certainly sir,” she brushes you with her hip, further edging you out, “right back on that black card, right?”
She scans her keycard, overriding the safeguard, and proceeds to the refund screen.
“Yes, exactly,” he snorts, “not like I don’t have even more money to spend here. Even if the customer service is lacking.”
You back away, unsure what to do. Do you just stand there for the transaction or do you go back to your department? You twiddle your fingers and bob on your heels.
Your eyes meet that man’s and he smirks smugly, wiggly his credit card at you. It’s fine, you won’t let him ruin your day. He’s already ruined his own getting so worked up.
🎀
It’s another busy shift. Your hot chocolate has gone cold from your neglect and you long to sneak away and shove it in the break room microwave. You can’t mourn the lukewarm drink as the line before you stretches on. You’re only a week from Christmas.
You finish wrapping the Prada bottle and hand it over the iron-haired woman with her cute curls. You wish her a good day as she waddles off. The next customer comes up, slamming down a cup so hard, the foam of the drink spits through the slot in the lid.
“Hello, sir,” you croon, “how are you today?”
“Here for a pickup,” he ignores your question.
“Right, can I get a name?”
“Why?” He challenges.
“For… for the package,” you sputter.
“Oh, uh, Drysdale,” he sniffs.
“I saw that earlier. I’m the one who called,” you brighten up.
“So you’re the annoying songbird,” he grabs his drink again, “took you fucking long enough. Line’s a mile long.”
“It’s very busy, yes. Everyone’s catching up on their Christmas shopping,” you bounce, “are you almost done yours?”
“Yeah, I bought myself cologne. So, chop chop, sweetheart.”
You nod and quickly spin. People get so impatient. You go into the small back room housed behind the shelves of lockup and you search the shelves. Drysdale. You pluck up the box and hurry back out.
“Right here,” you announce, “I have good news, too.”
“Tell me you’re gonna stop yammering,” he snickers.
“Um, no, the uh… the cologne is currently on markdown so I can do a price match and give you your money back.”
“Why would you do that?” He asks.
“Er, because… it’s policy?”
“You think I can’t afford it?”
“N-no, I didn’t say–”
“Look, I don’t need some department store busy bee to judge me, got it? This scarf costs more than your whole wardrobe,” he touches the patterned scarf around his neck.
“It’s a very nice scarf,” you agree.
He narrows his eyes, “you’re mocking me.”
You shake your head, “no, sir, I like the colours–”
“Give my goddamn package," he reaches and rips the box out of your hands, “and a tip, shut up and do your job. Maybe then you won’t have half the city waiting to get their shit.”
“Thanks,” you swallow down his anger. “Have a great day, sir.”
He doesn’t reply as he takes his cologne and storms away. You watch him and notice his cup still beside your till. It’s too late to call him back. You’ll just put it aside, you’re sure he’ll come back for it.
You move it to the other end of the counter and face the next customer, “hello, how are you?”
“Good,” the blonde woman answers with a gentle smile, “some people…” she tuts, “don’t let the grinches get to you, honey.”
“Thanks,” you feel the ice melt away, “I won’t.”
“Adorable cardigan,” she adds, “I really love the collar.”
“Oh, thank you,” you trill, “is this everything for today?” You gesture to the bottle of Calvin Klein on the counter.
“That will be it. And I’d love to have it gift-wrapped, thank you, hon.”
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bossbtch1 · 6 months
Note
HI! I just wanna say I lovee ur stories, but I was wondering if you could do a Loki x reader shadow play smut, with content.
I loved the other one u did... but I'm a sucker for smut 😭😌
Hey there! So, in the previous story, there's smut involved (dark story). But maybe the shadow play in the last scene isn't cutting it. No worries, here's another scenario for you! Thanks for the request, it's been a blast to write. It's weirdly amusing, I don't know why, but I hope you enjoy it! 😄
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Summary : Loki sought revenge after you left him in prison, tormenting you with shadows and magic. Strangely, you found yourself caught between arousal and fear, oblivious to the fact that it was him all along.
Pairing : Loki Laufeyson x f!Reader
General tags : SMUT, 18+, Dark Fic
Trigger Warnings: Masturbating, Fingering, Dubious Consent, Magic
Words : 3.2k (shortest fic I've ever written lol)
A/N : Well, that shadow scene had us all on a chokehold, and, of course, I couldn't resist writing another one for it. Thank you @holabicth for the request once again!
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The door closed behind Loki with a quiet thud. "Well, well, well. What do we have here?" Loki said, stepping towards the cell that was holding you. "A little mortal, lost in a big, bad world."
You scoffed and rolled your eyes, not bothering to move from where you were sitting, cross-legged, against the wall. "You're one to talk." You retorted, raising an eyebrow at him. "Considering you're in the exact same predicament."
"Am I now?" Loki asked, raising his own eyebrow in response. He took another step closer to your cell, looking down at you. You were still sitting there, looking up at him with an eyebrow raised. "Because it seems to me, that if I wanted to, I could easily just-" Loki paused as he suddenly appeared inside of your cell, standing in front of you. "Leave."
You rolled your eyes again. "Yeah, yeah. Big deal. You can teleport. Congrats." You muttered, moving to stand up.
Loki put his foot out and kicked your shoulder, forcing you to stay sitting on the floor. "I'm sorry, did you say something?" Loki asked, bending over slightly to look at you.
You turned your head to the side to glare up at him, and then brought your fist forward to hit him right in the groin. Loki gasped, taking a step back, and then groaned in pain, leaning forward slightly. You were surprised he didn’t see that coming or it was really him instead of some kind of projection.
"Yeah, I said you're a fucking dickhead." You snapped, using the wall to help you stand. Loki groaned in response, still doubled over in pain. You walked around him and stepped out of the cell, turning around to face him. "Have fun rotting away in there." You smirked, waving at him as the cell's walls started to close in around him.
Loki's head shot up as the walls moved closer. "No! Wait!" He shouted, but it was too late. The walls closed in on him, making him press up against the glass.
You sighed and shook your head, turning around to head for the elevator. "Y/N!" Loki shouted, his voice slightly muffled by the cell walls. "You can't leave me like this!"
"And why not?" You asked, not even bothering to turn around. You reached the elevator and stepped inside, pushing the button for the lobby.
"Because, if you leave me here, I'll die!" Loki shouted, his hands and face pressing against the glass.
"And why should that concern me?" You asked, pausing the doors from closing.
Loki groaned and banged on the glass, "You will pay for this!"
"Yeah, yeah. Whatever," you muttered, rolling your eyes. "Bye! Have fun rotting away, dickhead!" With an almost nonchalant wave, you watched as the elevator doors slowly closed, leaving him alone in the dimly lit cell.
The dull hum of the descending elevator mingled with Loki's muffled protests, creating a haunting symphony of abandonment as you left him behind.
You were heading towards the door, ready to get out of this place, when you stopped. 'Should I really just leave him here?' You thought to yourself, sighing as you turned around. 'Oh, fuck it. Might as well make the most of this.'
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Years after what happened you managed to escape from that prison, you were a free woman and no one could hold you back, even though they were trying. You had your freedom, and no one could take it away. You moved to a new country, changed your identity to make you unrecognizable and it worked. No one had recognized you.
Life was good, and started your life anew, forgetting all about your past. You were finally happy, and everything was going great.
But it felt surreal, you still could feel his hands on your body. You were starting to panic, wondering what was happening, you couldn't understand it. You didn't drink tonight, and you were sure you were sober when you went to bed, so this didn't make any sense.
One night when you were sleeping, you were dreaming of making out with a guy, his face was blurry so you didn't know who it was. His hands were touching all the right places, and you were getting into the moment, his lips felt amazing against yours. But then he was kissing your neck and you realized you could feel everything, the warmth of his tongue, the roughness of his stubble, the tickle of his breath.
His hand moved lower to your collarbone and down to your breast, and you were enjoying it. The guy seemed to know what he was doing, when suddenly, he squeezed a little harder, causing you to moan in surprise. It felt so real, that you were starting to think that you weren't dreaming, and that someone was in your room, touching you.
"Do you like that, Y/N?" The guy whispered and bit your earlobe making you shiver.
That made your eyes shot open and you sat up in shock. Looking around, you saw no one there. Your room was pitch black, except for a small ray of light coming from under the door. You must have been dreaming. But it felt so real. "Did I dream it or someone is really here?" You wondered, but couldn't find anything.
You looked down and saw that you were sweating and you could see your hardened nipples poking through your tank top. You saw your tank top was ridden up just like the guy did in your dream.
You pulled your shirt back down, and laid down again. The whole time you couldn't shake the feeling that someone was touching you. It felt surreal, you still could feel his hands on your body. You were starting to panic, wondering what was happening, you couldn't understand it. You didn't drink tonight, and you were sure you were sober when you went to bed, so this didn't make any sense.
Even though, you were panicking, your mind drifted to the man in your dream. How he knew your name, and how hot he sounded. You didn't understand how a dream could be so vivid and detailed.
You were getting turned on, the feeling of his lips on yours, and the way his hands were on your body. You didn't even know who this guy was, and you were already starting to masturbate. you felt embarrassed thinking about what you were dreaming about, and how wet you were. You didn't even know what time it was, but you felt like you needed to take care of yourself before you went back to sleep.
You started to slide your hands up and down your body, the feeling of his lips and stubble still lingering on your neck. You were so wet, the only thing that could satisfy right now was your fingers.
"Mmmm..." You moaned, as you imagined his face looking down at you, while his hands were touching you.
You were close to an orgasm, and you felt like you were going crazy. The pleasure felt unreal.
"Ohhhh... fuck," You whispered as you came.
You laid there for a few minutes, trying to catch your breath. You felt exhausted, but you couldn’t go back to sleep. You felt weird and confused, wondering what the hell was wrong with you. You shrugged it off, maybe it was nothing, and just got up from the bed, ready to start the day.
You didn't realize that this was only the beginning of the things that will happen, and that everything was only getting started.
"What a fucking asshole!" You grumbled angrily, kicking a trashcan, which sent the garbage flying. It didn't help that a group of kids were watching you and laughing at your anger.
"What did the trashcan ever do to you?" One kid asked, his friends giggling in the background. You turned your glare towards them, and the kids stopped laughing. They slowly backed away and ran off, not wanting to face your wrath.
You sighed and shook your head, turning back to the sidewalk. You were supposed to be at work, but you were late and had a pretty good excuse, a.k.a. the fact that some asshole had decided to break into your house and steal your car.
"Stupid car. Stupid, fucking asshole." You muttered, continuing to walk down the street. "Stupid, stupid, stupid..." You groaned and shook your head, running your hands through your hair.
You stopped and looked at the building across the street. 'Maybe I can call someone to pick me up? Like my parents?' You thought to yourself, shaking your head and laughing. "They probably won't answer anyway. Because I’m dead to them.’ You muttered, sighing as you crossed the street, heading for the building.
At work, you were still mad about your car being stolen, and were wondering how long it would take for the police to notice and return it to you. You couldn’t focus on your job. "Y/N, get back to work!" Mr. D's stern voice cut through your thoughts, and you reluctantly tore your gaze away from the cereal box in your hands. Sighing heavily, you nodded in acknowledgment.
"Sorry, Mr. D. Won't happen again," you mumbled, mustering a forced smile.
It had been couple of days since your car got stolen and you hadn’t received any information from the police, making you taking the bus from getting and going off from work. You were always late because of the traffic and your boss wasn't happy that you were late, and even threatened to fire you if you were late again. It wasn't your fault though, but no one would listen. You were pissed off and wanted to punch someone.
Days had passed since the incident, and the absence of any information from the police gnawed at your patience. Forced to rely on buses to commute, you found yourself consistently late due to the unpredictability of traffic. Your boss, oblivious to your tardiness, had threatened to fire you if you were late again.
It wasn't your fault, you were a victim of circumstances beyond your control. The injustice of it all made your blood boil, and the temptation to vent your frustration physically lingered at the edges of your consciousness. Yet, you held back, knowing that punching someone wouldn't solve anything.
As you continued stacking cans on the shelves, the rhythm of your movements betrayed the underlying tension. Each clink of metal against metal mirrored the ticking clock, a constant reminder of the stolen moments and the stolen car that dangled over your daily existence.
Suddenly, you slammed a can onto the shelf, drawing the attention of everyone around. Some flinched, eyes turning towards you. "Sorry, sorry. Just having a rough day. No need to look at me like that." you apologized, and the customers resumed their activities.
Your daily routine had become a struggle since the loss of your car. Apologies became a routine, just like the late hours you now kept. Affording a new vehicle was out of the question. The bus stop was distant from your apartment, pushing you to discover a shortcut through a creepy alley a couple of days ago. You didn't trust the alley, but you had no choice, you a quicker route home.
So, there you were, standing outside the alley, contemplating if it was a good idea or not. It was scary and dark, and you didn't know what was in there. You gulped and stepped into the alley, deciding to just suck it up and go through. You didn't want to walk all the way to your apartment building, and this was faster.
"Fuck it" you muttered to yourself, you prepared taser gun and pepper spray, and slowly walked into the alley. You were tense, and felt your heart beat faster, but you told yourself that everything would be alright. The alley wasn't very long, so you were relieved, but that feeling quickly left when you heard a sound behind you.
Turning around, you saw only homeless people, nothing out of the ordinary. "Probably just rats or something," you thought, attempting to calm your nerves. The rest of the walk remained uneventful. As you exited the alley, you sighed in relief, continuing your journey towards the apartment building.
You walked through that alley a couple more times since that day, and nothing unusual ever happened, but today, you felt as if someone was watching you, so you decided to look behind you.
But no one was in sight, not even the homeless people. You found it a bit odd but decided to ignore it and focusing on getting home. "Probably imagining it, it's nothing." You muttered to yourself, as you kept walking faster.  You clenched your taser gun tightly, ready to use it in case something did happen.
You heard footsteps approaching but when you turned around there was no one. You froze, your breath caught in your throat. You clenched your taser gun, the only weapon you had with you, and quickened your pace.
You heard it again, it sounded closer, but still far away. You slowly turned around, trying to keep calm, but you couldn't. The noise started again, this time closer, and louder. You spun around, holding the gun up and ready to fire. But no one was there.
Suddenly you were being pulled back and slammed into the wall behind you, and then you were being choked. Your eyes widened as you struggled against the grip, your hands pulling at the hand around your neck.
Your hands were suddenly being stretched apart, the gun falling out of your grip and clattering to the ground. Your legs flailed, your lungs desperate for air, but the hand stayed firm. No one was there, you didn't know what was happening. You were scared, no one was there, you didn’t know who or what attacked you.
Your vision started to fade, and everything was starting to get darker and darker. Right before everything faded away, the grip on your throat was released. You were coughing and gasping for air. You were still bound against the wall, not knowing what was going on. You looked around, and saw no one, no one except shadows on the wall.
"Who are you?" You asked, your voice hoarse from the lack of air. There was no response, and you felt like someone was there, but you didn't see anyone. "This isn't funny!" You spoke to whoever or something. You didn't believe in ghost, never did. You didn't think you were going crazy. You just assumed it was just your mind playing tricks on you, making you hallucinate.
"Show yourself!" You growled, trying to act tough. Still no response. "Fuck off. Leave me alone!" You grumbled, and kicked the wall behind you, but your legs hit nothing. Your brows furrowed, and you were confused. But you could feel something restraining you, and it was solid. You tried moving again, but the invisible force held you tightly.
As realization dawned, you discerned the silhouette of a shadow adorned with menacing horns that clung to you. "What the fuck!" you exclaimed.
"To make you mine." A deep voice spoke, echoing throughout the alley. You felt shivers down your spine, and fear creeped its way inside of you. You didn't understand what was happening. Your breathing was ragged, and you felt yourself become panicked.
Then you felt something caressing your legs as if a hand was slowly travelling up the length of them. You tried to struggle but the bounds held you tight, you were completely powerless. Your breath hitched when you felt fingers brush against the skin between your thighs and up.
Your legs were being forced open, "Ah! What are you doing!?" You shouted, not knowing what was happening as a finger slowly rubbed against your pussy.
"Stop!" You shouted, still struggling against the binds. But the thing didn't listen and was suddenly rubbed your clit, your hips involuntarily jerked at the sensation, and a small moan escaped your mouth.
"W-What is happening?" You whimpered, the fear mixed with pleasure was overwhelming. Your head fell back against the wall and a louder moan left your lips, you wanted to stop it, but you couldn't, and it felt too good.
You tried to focus on anything but the sensations, and you heard someone whisper something, but you couldn't understand what was being said. You tried to listen, but it was useless. The hand between your legs slipped into your panties and started to rub at your folds. The pleasure was too intense, and you cried out, your whole body trembling.
"Fuck." You breathed, and tried to control your breathing, but it was hard. Your whole body was shaking, and your mind was blank. You couldn't believe you were getting turned on by being assaulted by an unknown entity, but you were. "No! Stop it!" You struggled, the thing didn't stop.
You felt the shadow enter you as if a finger inserted itself into you, "Ah!" You moaned, you could feel the finger moving inside you, thrusting in and out of you. "N-no, stop."
The finger kept going in and out of you, then another joined it, making you moan and gasp. Your moans filled the empty alley, the sound of your moans echoed off the walls, but the pleasure you were feeling was great.
Then the fingers were removed, and then a hand was wrapped around your throat, squeezing lightly. You gasped and tried to pull the hand away, but the hand was unmovable. The finger kept going in and out of you, then another joined it, making you moan and gasp.
Fuck, why did a shadow could make you feel so good? The fingers kept moving in and out of you and a third joined, stretching you further. You were feeling too good, too aroused. You didn't even try to get away from it anymore. You couldn't believe you were turned on by a ghost or whatever this shadow-like creature.
"Yes! Yes! Ah!" You moaned. Your body felt hot, really hot. Your heart was racing, pounding against your chest, it was a good thing that no one could see you like this, getting fingered by a ghost.
You moaned again as the fingers thrusting in and out of you increased in speed, they were going fast. You wanted to scream, shout, moan, but you were only able to do one of them. "Yes! Ah! YES!" You screamed as your climax neared, "F-faster! Fuck me faster! Make me come!"
The fingers kept moving in and out of your dripping entrance and they increased their pace, fucking you faster and faster, your screams were louder.
"Yes! I'm cumming!" You screamed and arched your back as your orgasm hit, your juices ran down to your thighs, the fingers slowed down, letting you ride out your orgasm.
Then the fingers were gone, the sensation disappeared. The shadow finally released its grip, and you collapsed to the ground. You were left there, breathing hard, and confused. “What the fuck was that?” You talked to yourself.
While still trying to make sense of what just happened, you noticed two feet in front of you. Looking up, your eyes met Loki's. Suddenly, he seized your hair, compelling you to stand. "You!" you hissed, but he remained silent, his grip tightening.
A smirk played on his lips, and his eyes glowed with an unsettling green hue. Frustration and anger welled up within you as you attempted to retaliate, yet his hand held you firmly. "All this time, it was you, wasn't it? You were the one who assaulted me while I was sleeping, weren’t you?" you spat, your glare fixed on him.
He offered no response, only a sinister smirk, and then everything went black.
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Note
Okay, Miss Angst Queen, you want angsty scenarios, I shall give you one.
Fem!Reader (You), Diluc and Kaeya grew up together and Diluc develops a kiddie crush on you.
That's why he isn't too happy when Crepus suddenly announces that because Jean's mother had activated the marriage contract between their families, he is now engaged to Jean.
It didn't take Jean long to realize that Diluc doesn't like her the way he like you and she's pretty miffed because she feels you have 'stolen' her fiancé. Her more... over-zealous servants decide to take matters into their own hands and arrange for 'unfortunate incidents' to happen to you.
Eventually, your mother is forced to fake your death and send you to her distant relative in Liyue (Baizhu) when one of those 'unfortunate incidents' come a little too close to killing you.
With Diluc, after his self-exile after Crepus' death, the very first thing he does after returning to Mondstadt is to annul the marriage contract.
( I resubmitted it myself so I can have it in my drafts )
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Character: Diluc
Type: Angst, tragedy, and Reader in her villian era
Tags: Fem!Reader
Requester: @sailorstar9
Content: The female protagonist grew up with Kaeya and Diluc, along with Diluc developing a crush on on you since childhood. However, Jean's mother activated a marriage contract with Diluc's fathers, thus binding him and Jean in an arrange marriage. Jean's servants decided to arrange an event to create an unfortunate "accident" which lead your mother to actually making you fake your death by it and send you to Baizhu, a distant relative. However, unknowingly after Crepus's death along with his situation with Kaeya, he placed himself on self exile and the first action he did when returning, was to nullify his marriage contract with Jean now that he is the head of the family and can decline the contract. ( I hope I got this correctly )
My spin with Angst :) : Years later, Since the reader's distant relative is Baizhu, it would make sense she would have Dendro healing abilities, as Baizhu have been training you to defend yourself and medically educate you. However, ironically, you were in your villain era, You were angry, you felt robbed. This was trauma without you realizing it. Despite being taught to be a catalyst user, you decided, why in the hell would you even try at this point? You decided, a sword would suit you much better.
Trigger Warning: I might be a little violent in this story to stress the Villain Era the reader is in, and also, dealing with trauma so please proceed with caution. I might add cursing a bit, please let me know if you can feel the idea of the reader without the cursing.
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"What you do you mean you are cancelling the arrange marriage!?!" Jean looked at Diluc shocked.
He was standing in her office, unfazed. One word to describe Diluc right now, was tired. Exhausted. Drained. He had no energy to deal with anything, he didn’t want to deal with anything. He lost the person who he loved to some vague accident, he lost his father, and lastly, he lost his brother, metaphorically of course.
"Just as I said, I am canceling this unnecessary contract, I have the right to. The only reason we had this, was only because of the favor my father owned your mother. Consider that favor fulfilled by my servitude to the Favonious knights." He turned to leave without another world.
Jean jumped forward, and walked. "Wait! Wait!" She hugged him from behind. "I haven’t see you in so long, can't we talk this out? Come on, Luc..."
Diluc pushed her away. "Don't ever call me that again, understand? I only tolerated it for the contract. But I never want to hear it out your mouth again. Understand?"
Jean looked at him baffled. "B-But-"
"Understand?" Diluc glared into her eyes, his eyes were soulless reds, in the pits of a fiery empty dead hell.
Jean obediently complied, due to shock and intimidation. "U-Understand..."
Diluc continued to walk out of her office. "There is only one person who is allowed to call me that..."
As Jean watched Diluc walked out and put in all his two week notices for everything and leaving behind a life he once had. To that, he thought, good riddance.
As years, passed by, Diluc went on to be the most successful winery owner over the countries, gaining riches, as his main occupation is to produce wine, and deal with the fatui, and any other monsters at hand.
However, here you are, staring in the mirror in your room. You lived in Bubu Pharmacy with Baizhu looking after you. You glared at the scars on your body. There were deep scarring on your arms, back and chest. So deep, that it could be felt through your clothes if anyone tried hard enough to pay attention.
Red. There was only anger in your eyes. You saw a glimpse of your kind happy face, when you were younger, as it flashed back now. You just wanted to be left alone. You want peace and quiet. You didn’t care for anything. You were just angry.
You were robbed, you lost everything. Angry at almost dying, angry at losing your roots at your home land. Angry that you could have had a happy life, a peaceful life. Yet, you were here in fucking Liyue. Your mother recently passed, months ago, and you couldn’t be there. Why? Because you were in fucking Liyue. You could have healed her, but she kept saying no and to keep your faked death a secret.
She has passed on, that was the last straw, fuck faked death. Fuck being alive or dead. Fuck everything. You are done.
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pamgkrthwrites · 6 months
Note
Hello!
May I request sfw and/or nsfw hcs for a yan!Goldendragon (Mk x Mei) with a fem!reader who’s also a tiger demon?
Warning, the following content is for an 18+ audience. If you are under the age of 18 do not read the content below. Warning, the following content has disturbing/triggering themes such as; Yandere Themes, Abusive/Unhealthy Relationships, Obsession, Stalking, Kidnapping, Drugging, and others. I do not support or encourage these themes or actions, they are merely written fictional events for entertainment. The character(s) depicted within this post are over the age of 20. Read at your own risk.
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These two are chaotic, I hope we all know that lol.
These two probably met by LITERALLY running into you.
Both are fascinated by you being a tiger demon.
They become your friend very quickly, both showing you affection as much as they can.
It starts to become a problem when you notice them argue about who deserves to gets your attention more.
"It's fine, really. I don't mind which one of you shows me affection."
Then the stalking starts.
Mei is the one who stalks you, tracking your movements with a secret tracker on your person, hacking into a camera around the city, and having a camera in your room.
MK is the one who gets you used to him cooking you food. He gets better and better at it, finding ways to put flavour in there so you don't notice painkillers to sleep medication.
With this, he finally finds a blend of food that you like and one he can sneak these in without you noticing, resulting in you sleeping like a rock.
The two take you to Mei's home and lock you in a room, far far away from any exist.
You are always drugged, the two can't risk you trying to leave no!
Get ready for them kissing you even when you try to turn your face away.
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starlitquil · 1 year
Text
Protego - Sebastian Sallow x F!Reader
Word Count: 3k
Tags: protective sebastian, aka "I will kill him for what he did to you" sebby
CONTENT/TRIGGER WARNINGS: implied assault, blood mentions, leander, leander slander
A secondary trigger warning is placed where certain things begin. Read at your own risk.
-- A/N : Thank you for the love on my first fic! Well okay, first fic posted on tumblr. It means a lot to see my work be appreciated. I love doing subtle x readers, where they're def story driven, like this one, but I have a few in the works that are also purely fluff and more with everyone's favorite Slytherin. Yes the Leander content warning is meant to be slander. I do not like him but can not explain why. I just wanna throttle him. He just? Fills me with unbridled rage?? AnYWAY
Also! I'm going to open my ask box up for requests soon ish, with a post on who I want to write for, and my limitations.
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You were never one to be late or not make notice that you would be. Sebastian had sat waiting for you near the lake by the castle, where you had planned to meet for a study session and, a more private, lunch together. The man knew you too well. Something was up. If you had to cancel plans, you'd make sure an owl was sent ahead of time.
Sebastian stood from his sitting position on the blanket he had laid out, making quick work of cleaning up everything he had laid out. He ran back to the castle, floo flaming across it's expanse in search of you. Finally, he darted through the clock tower, finding you on unconscious and bloodied, hidden away in a corner. Your robe was discarded and nowhere to be found, your vest and shirt torn open on the back from a clear shot of diffindo. You back was still bleeding, a small pool had formed on the wood beneath you.
Sebastian made hasty but gentle work of flipping you over, gasping and looking away from your unbuttoned vest and shirt. He unbuttoned his own cloak and layed it over your indecent form, gently picking you up bride style. Your body was limp in his arms, and his heart pounded in his chest as he speed walked to the nearest floo flame, and made haste to the hospital wing.
He was so careful with you, watching your face as he trudged into the hospital wing.
"Nurse! Please!" he cried anxiously, tears welling in his eyes. The nurse hurried over, assessing the situation.
"What happened?" she asked, looking between Sebastian and your limp form. "Come, lay her down," she added, gesturing for him to follow.
"I- I don't know! I found her like this. She's hurt, bad." he said, following the nurse. She gestured to an empty bed, and he layed your form down gently, his arm on your back now covered in your blood.
The nurse used a quick spell to flip you over gently, laying you on your stomach. "It's good you got her here when you did, let alone found her when you did. Where was she?" she inquired, looking to the Slytherin.
"Well, she was late to our study session by the lake, and I knew immediately something was wrong," he explained, drawing in a self comforting breath. "She always sends an owl if she'll be late or has to cancel. Anyway, I packed up and searched the whole castle, and found her at the top of the clocktower, hidden away in a private space. She was already like this when I got there, and no trace of anyone else. She was indecent when I flipped her over, so I covered her with my own cloak." Sebastian was speaking quickly, his heart racing from the stress of everything happening.
The nurse gently pushed his shoulders down and towards a chair next to your bed. She handed him a glass of water and a stern look, and he nodded, taking his time to drink the glass.
"I'll need to do some work on her. You can wait here, but I'll be moving privacy screens," said the nurse, who offered him a look of sympathy. She could easily gather that the two of you were close, inseparable even, and knew just how it felt to be in Sebastian's place. "I promise you can stay with her after I'm done. I'll even allow you to be excused from the rest of your classes for today, and send for a fresh shirt," she added, Sebastian looking down at his stained sleeve.
Sebastian drew in a shaky breath, nodding. "Thank you," he said quietly. Other nurses had made their way to the hospital wing, joining the other behind the privacy screens she had levitated in place.
More time passed the Sebastian cared to keep track of, and was startled out of his thoughts when the privacy screens began to move, revealing your cleaned up and stitched backside, his own cloak floating down and covering the injury.
"She will be just fine, but she had to be made more indecent for us to do our work. I hope you don't mind us using your cloak again," she said plainly, mindlessly taking Sebastian's empty glass.
"Y/N could keep it if she so desired," he said, semi absentmindedly. The nurse smiled and placed a gentle hand on the Slytherin's shoulder.
"Stay with her, okay? Call me if she wakes. We need to get to the bottom of what happened." she said, her eyes meeting with Sebastian's. He nodded quickly, returning his gaze to your unconscious form. Your face was at least turned towards him, so he could watch you easier. He gently slipped his hand into yours, sitting and waiting.
Sebastian didn't know how much time passed. He didn't dare look away from you, keeping a firm gaze upon you for any waking movement. What he did know that it was daytime when he brought you here, and a glance at the window nearby suggested sunset was setting in. Your form made a small noise, bringing Sebastian's gaze back to your face.
Your eyes fluttered open, squeezing back the hand that held yours. Your body ached. But you weren't where you could last remember being. You started to shuffle to move, but Sebastian stopped you, as did the searing pain that caused you to cry out.
"Don't move - let me get the nurse," Sebastian said, rubbing a finger down your cheek as he stood. Nurse? Your vision cleared a little and you recognize the walls and privacy screens of the Hogwarts hospital wing. The nurse and Sebastian were quick to return.
"Glad to see you're awake, dear," her voice came, from somewhere to your left. "How're you feeling?" she asked, making her way into your vision.
"Sore." You stated simply. It hurt to even speak, and breathing stretched the wounds on your back in a painful manner. Sebastian sat back where he was before.
"What happened, dear?" the nursed prodded. You clenched your jaw. "You know I have to ask." she added, seeing the look on your face. It wasn't a pleasant expression, you face had contorted into a combination of fear, anxiety, and dread.
"...May I tell you tomorrow..." you said, after a pause. The nurse simply nodded.
"Sebastian, you may stay here with her tonight." the nurse looked to your companion. "Watch over her, you may take the bed nearest her." Sebastian nodded as the nurse headed off, the night shift nurse coming in to take her place. The two nurses exchanged words neither of you could hear.
"Would you tell me who did this?" came Sebastian's quiet, gentle voice. You shook your head.
"Tomorrow, I promise." you answered, implying by his question someone did do this. His brow furrowed. You reached up in a struggle to place a hand on his cheek, offering him a smile. He put his own hand overtop of yours, turning his head to kiss your palm and smile back down at you.
You fell back asleep quickly, Sebastian kissing your forehead as you did. You could barely make out his figure making his way to the bed nearest yours as you drifted off to sleep.
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The next morning you awake to Sebastian's sweet face nearby. He was no longer in the bed he had taken up, but fast asleep in the chair he was in yesterday, head hung as he slept, one of his hands was warm in your own. You squeezed it gently, the freckled man's eyes fluttering open. He smiled at you as he met your eyes, leaning in to plant another warm kiss on your forehead. You felt your face brighten a deep red. Unfortunately for you, you couldn't turn away to hide your blush without pain.
"Good morning, you two," the nurse from yesterday strolled up. "Glad to see you're both awake. Y/N, your wound should be healed enough so that you can flip over and sit up mostly comfortably, if you'd like to try," she mentioned. You nodded quickly. This position was getting uncomfortable, and fast.
"Be a dear and help me Sebastian," she said, hustling over to your other side. The two of them helped you flip over and sit up, with grimaces and gasps of pain. You relaxed into the new position, the pain subsiding for now.
"So," the nurse started, placing her hands on her hips. "Are you going to tell me what happened?" she said, her tone was gentle with a hint of firmness.
"I- I will but... do you have --" your sentence was interrupted by Leander Prewett. Your jaw clenched at the sight of him, the memories from yesterday came flooding back.
"There you are! I'm so glad you're okay!" he said, offering a wide smile. You didn't return the smile, wrapping your arms around your waist. You mustered up all your mental strength not to shake in fear at the sight of the boy, watching him weary eyed as he approached.
He stopped at the foot of your bed, still beaming. You watched his eyes wander to your semi exposed chest, and you made quick work of using Sebastian's cloak to cover yourself.
"I am indecent. Leave me." you said plainly to Leander. Your brow was furrowed in anger, and you eyed him intensely. His smile was quick to fade, your grip on the cloak was so tight your knuckles widened.
"But-"
"I said go!" your voice was raised this time. Sebastian and the nurse shared a look. "You are the last person I want to see," you said harshly, pointing towards the hospital wing entrance.
The nurse wordlessly ushered Leander out, returning to your bedside.
"What did he do to you?" she asked firmly.
"He's the reason I'm here-" you said, your body shaking. Tears burnt at the edge of your vision.
"What!? What did he do?" she pried. "Listen, I know you don't want to open up about it. But as the nurse it is my duty to report all incidents." she said, rubbing your shoulder. You shook your head, shoulders shaking lightly with a sob.
"I have an idea. Stay with her." the nurse looked to Sebastian who only nodded, brow knit close and cold. You knew that face. Sebastian didn't even have to know what Leander did to you. But what he did know is that he would ring his sorry, bastardly neck. You met Sebastian's eyes and reached for him, both arms open to him. He sat down on the edge of your bed and put his arms around you gently, holding you as you cried.
The nurse returned a few minutes later, struggling to carry something that sounded heavy.
"Here. You can show me the memory itself." she said. You pulled away from Sebastian, and a pencieve filled your vision. You nodded quietly, grimacing as you reached for your wand, lifted it to your forehead and drew out a magical strand of energy, tears streaking your cheeks.
"Both of you... please... it's not easy but I need you both to know..." you said, sniffling. You placed the strand of magic in the water, Sebastian standing to walk around the bed and prepare to dip his face into it's depths. The nurse and Sebastian shared a nod, then dipped their heads in.
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[TRIGGER WARNING FOR THE UPCOMING SECTION]
The nurse and Sebastian both had found themselves in a private spot in the clock tower. The vision was of you and Leander, talking.
"Y/N, I-" Leander spoke clearly. "I've got feelings for you. Ever since you beat me at summoner's court."
Sebastian felt his blood boil watching the memory. But he knew there was more. You weren't injured yet.
"Oh! I.." you began to reply, unsure of what to say. "I'm flattered but I-" before you could finish speaking, Leander had pulled you in and spun you around, so that you were against the wall. Your breath escaped your lungs as he crashed his lips onto yours.
Leander's hands worked to unbutton your vest and then your top, his hands brushing against your exposed bare chest, palming your breasts.
Before he could go any further, you mustered up what ancient magic you could, and used it to strengthen your arms and push him away. He stumbled backwards, his facial expression turning cross. He pulled out his wand and cast diffindo. Instinctually you turned to dodge, but instead, your breath left your body once more as the magic he cast sliced into your back, knocking you out almost immediately. You collapsed to the floor, Leander running away in your slowly fading vision.
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Sebastian and the nurse withdrew their faces from the pencieve. The nurse had tears of her own now flowing down her cheeks. "Here, I have a few bottles. Put that same memory in those bottles. The headmasters and the ministry must be made aware." she said, wiping her face and making quick work of gathering the bottles.
Sebastian's face was twisted in a deep anger, his knuckles whitening from his tightening grip on the edge of the pencieve.
"I'll kill him!" he said, voice raised. He was about to turn to leave before you quickly grabbed his hand, wincing at the pain that rippled through your back.
"Sebastian, please." you said quietly, your voice cracking. He stopped in place, not letting go of your hand, his back to you. "I need you hear with me, darling," you said. It was your heartbroken tone that made Sebastian's own heart crack. His shoulders relaxed and he turned back towards you, sitting at the edge of your bed.
"I'm sorry. I'm here." he said, kissing your forehead and cuddling in close to you. The nurse returned with two specially made bottles. You knew just what to do with them. You pulled more strands of magic from your forehead of the memory, bottling it up tight.
"I will ensure the headmasters and ministry both get these as soon as possible. Sebastian, stay with her. The ministry will not let him get away with this, I assure you." she said, patting his shoulder.
Sebastian nodded, resting his head on your shoulder. You rest your head on top of his, kissing the top of his head before doing so.
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Weeks had gone by, and rumor had spread fast. Not about you, about Leander. A few students had seen him being carted off against his will, being drug by the arms by two older wizards in Ministry attire.
The headmasters had made sure someone saw so you would be aware by word of mouth that he was gone for good, but also so that it was purely about him. What he did was up to speculation, but it was honestly quite entertaining to listen to the various things your classmates came up with.
The headmasters had also called you in to speak with you and state they had a cover story for your injuries, and one that was believable. You made sure it was all your classmates knew.
You and Sebastian walked arm in arm out of one of Hogwart's many exits, making your way to the lake, where you had planned to study at a few weeks ago. You had both missed a good portion of time from class, and needed to catch up, and soon.
You winced a little as you helped Sebastian lay out the picnic blanket, and used levioso to place the food and books he had brought with him.
The afternoon had gone by quick, and the work you had caught up on brought you to the beginning of sunset, the sky a beautiful orange tone.
You giggled at a joke Sebastian made, playfully smacking him in the arm. In reply, he told another insufferable joke, and you walloped him again, this time losing your balance landing on top of him, his breath escaping his body as his back met the ground below him. Your back was healing well, but it still ached in pain.
He wrapped his arms around your waist, and you sat up on your elbows on either side of his head. There was a comfortable silence before you broke out laughing, gazes not breaking from each other.
Your face was a bright red, and so was his. Without even thinking, you put your lips to his, a small gasp of surprise coming from the Slytherin below you, his lips moving to kiss you back. You pulled away quietly, face red with heat.
"Sorry I don't know what came over me!" you were quick to speak. He fidgeted with an arm and put a finger on your lips.
"Don't you dare be sorry, darling," he said, gently dragging his finger down to your chin and pulling you into another kiss. You giggling into the kiss, running one hand through his chocolate curls.
You pulled away again, eyes meeting in another comfortable silence.
"Thank you for being there for me." You said, smiling at the man below you. He smiled back at you.
"It is the least I can do for you, Y/N." Sebastian said knowingly. You replied with a knowing nod.
"I love you, Sebastian Sallow," you said your gaze intense. You didn't even realize what you had said until he reciprocated.
"I love you too, Y/N. You have no idea how long I've waited to hear you say that, my darling," he replied, leaning up to kiss your forehead.
Your face burned bright, the gears turning in your head.
"What are we now?" you asked, unsure of what else to say.
"Will it make it easier if I ask you out, my darling?" he asked, his charm slipping through. You simply nodded.
"Y/N, will you do me the honor and pride of being my girlfriend?" he asked, smiling at you cheekily. You smiled back at him.
"Yes I will, Sebastian Sallow, forever and always." what you replied was a promise. What he replied was also a promise.
"I will always protect you,'' he replied, pulling you in for another kiss. Your lips moved in sync, his hands rubbing up and down your body gently.
You pulled apart and finally got off the poor chap, wincing lightly as you lay at his side, head on his chest, arm around his torso. One hand of his was on top of your own, the other wrapped around your shoulders.
You would be okay. With him by your side, you would be okay.
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