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the-slasher-files · 1 year

Note

I got this idea in my brain.

König getting some pussy so good he forgets to pull out. Neither party is complaining.

[CALL OF DUTY]

YOUR BEAST

KÖNIG

Oh oh oh ooooh my God I love this!! Warnings include: accidental breeding, knifeplay, mirror sex, stomach bulge, size kink, daddy kink and of course dirty talk... Hope you enjoy🔪💕

MASTERLIST

Stretched. Marked. Burning. A deep ache, almost painful, fluttered from your core reaching through your throat and bubbling up in the sound of incoherent words and wanton cries. He pushed you further into the depths of a vicious sea and allowing you to bare witness to the storm tearing through his eyes still smeared in black paint.

"K— Kön—" His name, sweet and brutal was caught in your throat with another deep thrust.

"Tell me, baby. Tell your King" You could hear the cocky rumble behind the words, sure that his mouth was curled in a smirk if only you could see. It wasn't the black hood with bleached tears that hid his face, it was the fact that König's massive hand pushed the back of your head down, forcing your face into the mattress.

Oxygen waned within your seering lungs, body covered in sweat, spit and cum. Yours and his. Both of you had lost track of what round you were on, but your brain had melted out your mouth long ago, perhaps when he placed you on the kitchen counter and finger fucked your cunt until there was a large puddle of your mess on the tile below. Or maybe it was when König first walked through the front door and pinned you against the wall, having just come off a 2 month long mission gone wrong and he was desperate for you. A caged animal with claws dripping blood and devastation running through his veins with each pump of a war-torn heart.

A garble of whimpering words tried to escape your pretty mouth only to fall flat with a dumb tongue but he heard one word "C—Can't"

König's crushing hand disappeared for a moment with a dark growl rumbling behind his ribcage allowing you to sputter and gasp from the newly found air. However, it wasn't long before his mammoth hand appeared again except the long fingers tangled with your locks, gripping strongly and pulling you back with ease. Your body now flat against his front.

"Yknow, I've never liked that word... can't," He rasped out with rough lips grazing along your naked shoulder. "...Now, Maus,"

Humming in response to the nickname for you, eyes half-lidded and foggy with a cockdrunk haze, gazed up behind you with a whimper. Konig's thick and long cock held still against your cervix, relentless and unmoving, there was no ability to wiggle within the soldier's iron grip.

"We both know you can," He sneered with mischief and wicked intentions flashing like lightning behind the intense blue eyes.

Suddenly you felt it. Cold and sharp laying flat on the tender muscles of your neck, daring your pulse to remain steady. A gasp left your kiss-bruised lips and eyes went wide in shock, any haze gone from them as you stiffened on Konig's massive frame and he felt in, a quiet groan sounded in his throat feeling your spongy walls close in around him.

"shhh Maus, do you trust me?" The beast was gently pushed aside for a moment to check in before you nodded wordlessly, "Good girl"

Body still stiff, Konig's soft praise and protectiveness calmed your overstimulated nerves. You were and always will be safe and loved by your king. He reassured you every day, even if he was on the other side of the planet.

"I want you to see something, sweet girl" His voice went dark, dripping with a heavy accent brought your thoughts to a halt, "Just watch how fucking good you take me"

Konig hissed, twisting the hand in your hair to turn your head forward to see the bedroom floor-length mirror capturing an absolutely sinful scene. The 6 foot 10 Austrian soldier's hulking body, skin tanned and scarred, muscles tense, visibly controlling his strength not to break your little body before him. He was still dressed in his beige cargo pants now dark in parts with the stains of your countless releases, they were folded down making the V on Konig's torso even more prominent, drawing your eyes to where your dripping cunt was being spilt open around him. Soft open kisses were placed from your left shoulder to your right making your eyes flutter up. Going across the thick, veiny arm hugging your ribcage like a deadly anaconda, reaching up to hold the large german military blade to your throat, his hand overwhelmingly the knife handle making it look like a toy but the cold bite against your pulse made you know it was real.

"Konig" Your voice was weak, daring to crack at the sight before you.

Intense blue eyes stared back hungrily as he raised to the full height on padded knees from behind you. Releasing your hair to drag down where you two were connected and spread your pussy open as if his cock didn't do that enough before he rumbled with a sharp thrust inside you, "Look at this tiny little cunt begging for me"

A feverish heat spread to your head as the man you knew as Konig was slowly, methodically turning into a beast, something primal and ancient clawing out desperately. The air had been stolen from you once again as Konig fell into a sharp, deep pace, angling his hips in just the right position to make you see stars.

"Konig, Konig, Kon-" You chanted, almost as if it was a ritual to an old god.

He couldn't control it any longer. The way your breasts bounced with each splitting thrust, the way your drooling pussy leaked around him and dripped on the bed, how your body looked like a tiny toy against his, holding you with ease as your eyes rolled back within your skull even though Konig watched your stomach bulge taking every thick inch of him. Dark sentences in German could be found between animalistic grunts and moans, but they didn't meet your ears beyond the lustful haze, drunk on everything that was Konig.

"C-close, D-Daddy, sooo c-close" A cry tore through your throat, body about to give out still looking at the reflection as much as you could focus.

"Give it to me... Now" He growled deep, removing the blade from your neck and pushing you forward. Massive hands pushing, grasping and bruising your hips as he lost himself, fucking your body like a fleshlight through your final gushing orgasm. "FFFFUCK"

The world went black between you both.... Breath heavy.... Body tingling.

"Fuck," He pants, "Fuck"

The beast lingers in the form of a man, hunched over his lifeless feast with damp huffs.

"M'sorry, baby... sorry, fuck" Konig knows he lost his head, it happens sometimes in the field turning into that aggressive hound breaking bones with the hands that held you. "verdammt"

Slowly he rolled to the side, wrapping his arms around you and pulling your body close as you came back to life. First, the feeling of achy muscles and blissful tingles across your skin made your eyes flutter open half-lidded, reaching out to draw Konig even closer if it were possible.

"Easy, sweet girl, easy" He coos, guilt growing within his core with thorns.

Shifting with a whimper, he was still inside you and the now soft blue eyes went wide, he had never done that before with you.

"...Need you, Konig" You meekly whispered, needing his warmth and comfort so much now with your thoroughly fucked out body.

"B-baby, okay, just-" Konig stumbled slightly over the words that wouldn't stop.

Stunned, he didn't know how to react. One side of his brain didn't want to pull out and the other side just wanted to make sure you were ok and make sure you knew what had just occurred. It was your body after all and your choice, never his even though Konig's pride and fansites overcame him.

A whine broke the train of thought that ran through his clouded mind, rolling back his hips and pulling out. Stick warmth spilled out of you involuntarily as your cunt quivered from the aftershocks and the Austrian groaned at the sight, wanting to just shove it all back in and fuck you again, but he held steady and turned your weak self towards him. Cuddling and ducking into his neck. The scent of gunpowder and his cedar aftershave stirred within your lungs like a mystical potion, always needing more of him.

Gazing under your lashes softly, you knew what happened, how could you not feel it.

A wicked smile curled on your lips as he delicately pushed the hair away from your face. His pierced brow raised as your small hand reached down to sheath himself inside you once more with a hot moan, staying there hopefully for hours now, "That's where you stay, big man"

Fuck, you were his everything

#lol the dom twist of it all to the end #my writing #HOPE YOU LIKE #könig #cod #call of duty #modern warfare #cod mwii #mwii #könig x reader #x you #x s/o #smut #fanfiction

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strawbeerossi · 11 months

Text

Practice Makes Perfect

18+ Content. Minors DNI.

Pairing: Fem!reader x Spencer Reid

Description: Spencer insists on helping reader perfect the party trick that she was trying to master when he came over. This time, there is a twist to it.

Content Warning: Coarse language, porn with little plot, restraints, soft dom Spencer, sub reader, teasing, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), facesitting, spitting, hair pulling, degradation (use of whore and slut), pretty mild breeding kink, unprotected vaginal sex, pretty entertaining ending.

Word count: 2.6K

Part one

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Tag for @a-cloud-for-dreams 🫶🏻

The words had Y/N taken aback when Spencer mentioned it being her turn to wear the metal cuffs if they were to go again.

“Don’t look shocked. I mean, this is your trick, right? We gotta make sure that you get it down for Rossi’s next dinner party.” He explained as he let his arms cross.

God dammit, he looked good while pleading his case, the way his tousled hair was falling over his face, the way the light shine of sweat radiated off his body. He looked delectable.

“Fine. Only for the greater good of me learning this trick though.” She spoke, as if she wasn’t already clenching her thighs together from the sheer thought of being restrained, being able to be used at Spencer’s heart's content. The way he lit up at her agreeing to the idea was enough to make her head spin.

“First thing's first though..” He frowned, eyeing her up and down before his fingers were working fast to pull her shirt over her head, mouth practically watering at the sight of her bare chest, his hands coming up her hips before he was resting them just below her breasts.

The way he was ogling her body was enough to make Y/N’s face turn a light shade of pink. He’d just watched his cock plunge in and out of her pussy while she was focused on riding him, yet she was nervous over him seeing her naked torso.

Sounded about right.

“Gonna put them on you again,” The male’s voice brought her out of her thoughts as her head nodded slowly. “Okay.” She spoke, watching him spin the cuffs around his finger while awaiting her verbal consent to being bound.

He made her stand up so it would be easier, walking behind her as one hand ran down the smooth flesh of Y/N’s arm. He brought her wrists together before the cool metal was on her skin, the sound of the restraints closing around her wrists filling the quiet room.

Y/N’s heart was beating fast, so hard that she feared it would burst from her chest. He surprised her the moment she was being pushed forward, bent over the bed while she yelped in surprise. It wasn’t hard enough to hurt her, yet she wasn’t expecting to be shoved down similarly that an unsub would be pushed down against the table when being detained at the scene.

The feeling of his large hands running down her back had goosebumps spreading across her skin, her eyes closing as her cheek rested against the unkempt sheets and duvet from their previous activity.

The tender approach was enough to relax her.

It was the sharp smack to her ass that jolted her back to reality.

“You look like such a whore, bent over your bed for me while you have no power in the situation.” He spoke while reaching over on her bedside table, grabbing a paperclip before unravelling it and placing it in her dominant hand.

“You aren’t cumming until you take them off.” Spencer spoke, a boost of confidence washing over him as his hand was moving to slick back his messy hair that was falling in his face. “I suggest you get to it,” He snickered softly, hands running down her hips before coming down to her ass.

Y/N had to admit that this sudden burst of confidence was wildly sexy coming from the usually awkward and downright submissive Dr. Spencer Reid that she knew from work. The man who she just had whimpering and restrained in her bed was reducing her to a puddle of goo.

While her hand was shaking and trying to get the paperclip in the keyhole of the handcuffs, Spencer was thoroughly enjoying himself for a moment watching her actually try to free herself.

His hands pushed her asscheeks apart, a low groan leaving his lips as he got a full view of her beautiful, wet, pink pussy. It was swollen, used from before and Spencer could feel his cock hardening at the residue of his cum that was painting the back of her inner thighs. “You know, statistically, 20% of sexual partners get pregnant within the first time they have sex?” He asked, that 187 IQ appearing when he wasn’t being distracted by his cock being sucked.

“Now, that means that technically, you could already be at risk of pregnancy from the first time?” His fingers were coming down to her labia, now pushing the lips apart before his thumb found its way to her clit.

The thought of her being pregnant with his baby elicited an animalistic growl from Spencer. “You’re really wet from the thought of that?” He asked, a smirk on his face as her slick wasn’t unnoticed against his fingers. “Bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you? For me to pump you full of my cum and paint that pretty uterus? Have you swollen with a baby? Fuck.” His words were already influencing himself.

“Everyone would know you like being used as a cocksleeve and being desperate for all the cum you can milk out of me.” The explicit nature of his words had Y/N letting out a moan, her head fully in the clouds as her hips were rocking against his hand, desperate to get more than his thumb on her clit.

“You look like a desperate slut, you need more?” He asked, thumb putting pressure on her clit and eliciting another cry. That was when he was letting his middle finger run over her slit, collecting the slick of arousal from her puffy cunt.

There were no words shared between the two, instead he was letting his finger delve into her tight heat, making the woman below him moan out as her pussy was clenching around his finger.

The feeling of her walls closing around his finger and trying to pull him in for more made the man groan lowly, curling his finger just to get a reaction, which the muffled moan against the sheets was enough encouragement to add a second finger.

The long digits were nestled knuckle deep inside the inviting warmth, watching as Y/N attempted to fuck herself against his fingers. “You’ve stopped trying to get the cuffs off.” He pointed out the obvious, almost like an indirect order for her to continue trying or he would stop his movements.

This stupid fucking trick idea would be the end of her, her fingers clenching around the paperclip while her shaking hand was in search of the keyhole, finding it this time.

Spencer was satisfied, granting her the gift of his fingers scissoring her open as they was fucking her at a fast pace, his fingertips brushing against the spongy button inside of her that had her crying and begging for more.

His fingers just weren’t cutting it anymore.

“Spence please, need more.” Her words were muffled into the mattress, almost inaudible. To fix that problem though, one of the male’s wrists was tangling in her hair before he roughly tugged her hair towards, lifting her head up.

“Say it one more time. It’s rude to mumble.”

“P-Please. More.” She choked out.

“That’s more like it.”

His fingers were being pulled from her soaked cunt, chuckling as he looked over his glistening fingers, his hand still in her hair as he tugged her head up once more, the covered fingers going to her lips. He was pleasantly surprised whenever she was letting her lips close over the digits, her tongue cleaning her arousal off of his fingers.

“Good to see that the whore knows what someone wants.” He mused while letting her hair go as he was pulling his fingers from her mouth, watching as a string of saliva came with them. He’d just gotten started, and she already looked blissfully fucked out.

“More?” He asked, watching as the woman’s head was nodding quickly, feeling the strong grasp on her hips while he was moving her to sit on her knees for a moment, getting comfortable on the bed as he was lying on his back. “Come here.” He spoke, watching as she was doing her best to shuffle over on her knees.

She started by straddling his waist, though the male was shaking his head. “Farther.” He chuckled, this time gesturing to his face while Y/N’s mouth was agape. “Will be easier for you to get the cuffs off while sitting up.” He pointed out, his hands hooking around her thighs as soon as she was quickly making her way up his body.

“W-wait. What if you can’t suffocate? I don’t wanna end up killing you.” She spoke as she could feel his strong arms tug her body down, pressing a kiss to her clit.

“What a way to go out.” He commented, causing the two to let out a giggle before his tongue was licking over her clit. “Don’t worry, I can easily move you if I need to.” He assured her in a moment of seriousness.

Their words were soon replaced by the sound of moans as Spencer’s tongue was delving into her dripping pussy with no warning, the woman working on those damn handcuffs, which were a pain in her ass at this point.

She’d never do something dumb like that again. She’d just learn how to do a backflip or something as a trick to impress the entire team.

He had gotten greedy, his hands clutching tightly to her thighs as he was drinking all the arousal he could, eyes fluttered shut as he groaned lowly against her cunt.

His cock was rock hard at this point, his tip red and angry as beads of precum were pooling. It was throbbing, twitching at the moans that were falling from her lips coupled with the sweet, intoxicating taste that was on his tongue. Truthfully, he could probably cum untouched from this.

However, the only thing that stopped him was the feeling of metal hitting his stomach along with a little cheer.

She got the fucking handcuffs off.

Y/N looked just as surprised as the two were now making eye contact. “You actually did it.” Spencer spoke, shock dripping from his tone. “I did it!” She grinned, her fingers now coming down to tangle in his hair as she was raising an eyebrow. “You said that I could cum when I got them off. Get back to it.”

With a soft laugh, Spencer was nodding. “Yes, ma’am.” He obliged, now diving right back in as if he were a man starved.

With freedom to grab anything to support herself, her hands were coming to grip the headboard while she let her hips roll against his face, head tilting forward as a moan left her lips while was riding his face. At the position they were in, his nose was brushing against her clit with each roll of her lips.

The feeling of her thighs clenching around his head and the feeling of the fluttering in her pussy, Spencer knew she was ready to make a mess of his face.

With cries and moans of his name filling the room, it wasn’t long until she was soaking his face, which the male was licking up everything he could to avoid wasting even a drop of cum that she’d graced him with.

“Fuck.”

This was Spencer’s breaking point, now lifting her from his face before he was tossing her on her back, the woman letting out a yelp of surprise before watching as the clumsy male was nearly falling off the bed while pushing himself up.

“Are we gonna increase our odds of me being pregnant?” She probably meant it to be a joke but dear god, Spencer wanted to cum right then and there. “You better watch your mouth,” He warned with a chuckle, hand coming between them to give his cock a few tugs for relief before letting his tip tease her slit.

“Hey, I’m not against the idea! I think you should definitely give me a little genius baby.” She mused, voice shaky as he was tapping his cock against her pussy, her legs spreading more.

“You are gonna be the death of me, fuck.” He groaned, their lips smearing against one another's as he was tired of teasing, cock pushing inside of her. There were muffled moans against each other’s lips, one of his hands on her hip while the other was resting on either side of her head.

As he was bottoming out inside of her, Y/N was pulling away to let her head loll back as her arms were loosely around his shoulders. It was always the skinny, nerdy guys who were well endowed, enough to have anyone’s head spin with little movement.

Spencer’s thrusts started slow, an easement for both of them. There was soft kisses shared, the two whispering and even laughing softly together over whatever they discussed. It was sweet, soft.

Until Spencer slammed into her and cause her body to bounce upon impact. “Fuck, Dr. Reid, calm down. You’re gonna make me hit my head on the headboard.” She squeaked, though the way he was smiling and bracing herself while grasping his shoulders was an open invitation.

It wasn't long until the room was filled with the sinful sounds of his cock slamming into her, along with the sounds of the bed squeaking like crazy and both of their moans. Thank god the apartment to the right of her was empty, cause with the way her headboard was banging against the wall, she’d have a million complaints.

The woman to the left of her would have plenty of noise complaints for her though.

“Fuck- I’m gonna-” Her nails were dragging down Spencer’s back, head thrown back as her eyes were screwed shut. The warning came seconds before her walls were spasming around his cock, her body shaking from the sensitivity as Spencer’s rough thrusts were growing sloppy.

Spencer was reduced to a groaning, moaning mess as his cock twitched inside her clenched pussy before he was approaching his peak, his spent spilling inside of Y/N as his head was falling on her shoulder, his hips slowing their thrusts.

***

“How the hell did you do that?” Emily asked, eyes widened with amusement as Y/N dropped the handcuffs to the ground while she smirked triumphantly. “A girl never reveals her secrets.” She spoke.

Penelope was already letting all those conspiracy theories wrack up in her brain. “Do it again! Let me close them this time because I know you have to be cheating somehow.” The bubbly blonde spoke while quickly grabbing the metal cuffs before hooking them just a bit tighter around Y/N’s back.

“I’m telling you, I can get out of these.” She continued, using the paperclip in her hand. It took her a max of ten seconds to get them unlocked, the sound of metal hitting the floor soon after.

“You need to teach me how to do that.” Emily spoke again, now picking up the metal while placing the once dreaded object on Y/N’s desk.

“As impressive as it is, I feel like I have to give a warning that the first time any of you are trying to do a trick like that and you get stuck, you’re to come to work like that as a punishment.” Aaron spoke from where he stood outside of his office door.

“How did you even learn to do that, mama?” Derek was asking, an eyebrow raised as he leaned back against the desk behind him.

Spencer was already going red, thankfully everyone too focused on Y/N to notice, even when the two shared a knowing glance.

“Practice makes perfect!”

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sparklefics · 1 year

Text

Losing you

Bucky & avenger!reader

WC: 1,185

Summary: a near death experience puts things in perspective.

Warnings: near death experience (not detailed tho), mentions of injury and blood. Language!

I wrote a thing!! It’s been months since I’ve been inspired/ had time to write. Here’s a little angsty fluff.

Gif not mine.

[Masterlist]

Since you joined the team you’ve gotten along with everyone. Missions are successful at least 90 percent of the time.

For the last nine months you’ve been partnering up with Bucky. He’s damn good at his job and you get along just fine, at least when you’re on the field.

Off the field is an entirely different story.

It’s not so much that you don’t get along, it’s just you don’t hang out outside of work. The only time you ‘hang out’ is during training.

You wouldn’t consider him a friend— at least not like Sam is. Bucky is merely your teammate, your partner.

Normally Bucky is cool, calm and collected until the day you get hurt in the field.

“Star, come in.” Bucky speaks through the comms but is only met with silence so he tries again. “Agent Star, come in!”

Star is the code name Sam gave you when you joined his crusade as Captain America. He liked to joke around about his Stars and Stripes and the Sentinel of Liberty, respectively you, Joaquin and Bucky.

Bucky turns back to the last checkpoint and his body goes rigid as he takes in the scene before him. There you are laying on a puddle of blood—yours, he realizes.

He doesn’t take the time to over analyze what went down, all he cares about right now is getting you to safety.

—————

It’s scary to put so much on someone. To let them be your everything, he hadn’t realized that was what had happened. To him you were just his partner.

Until he almost lost you.

That’s when he realized what’s really at stake here. Not only your life, but his happiness.

—————

Three days, that’s how long it takes for you to wake up.

“Ow. That hurt.” You groan and hear Sam chuckle, when you bat your eyes open you see Bucky storming out of the room.

“That’s not funny, Star.” Sam says. “You scared us. How come you didn’t call for backup?”

“How long was I out?”

“Three days. And yes, he was here the whole time, barely got him to eat and shower.”

“Where’s Stripes?” You deflect and ask about Joaquin.

“Coffee run.” Sam stares towards the doorway and sighs. “Buck was the one that found you.”

“Hmm. I think he might be mad at me— you know for almost dying.”

“He’s entitled to that, you’re his partner after all.”

—————

Bucky never comes back to the med bay. In fact you don’t see him for weeks, until you’ve been given the all clear to go back out on the field.

You approach him silently at the gym while he’s pummeling a punching bag. Three bags already discarded after he ripped them open.

“Hey Liberty!”

“Don’t call me that. You know I fucking hate it.”

“Are you still mad at me?”

“Who said I was?” He turns around and you’re not ready for that tender look he gives you. A mixture of guilt that you almost died on his watch and something else you can’t pinpoint and it almost makes you think that he might actually care.

As scary as it was, almost dying put so much in perspective for you. First thing’s first, before you passed out on the field your very last thought was Bucky’s smile. That was strange…yes, he’s your partner but you were about to die and your last thought was of him not begging for help just one last smile of Bucky’s.

Secondly, it felt so off and hurtful seeing him walk out as soon as you woke up. You didn’t know why it hurt but the fact that it did meant that you wanted him there when you woke up. Or at least you expected him to be there, he is your partner after all.

You almost lost everything.

You almost lost him.

It’s infuriating how he managed to become something more than just your partner without you even realizing it. Though all your anger dissipates with the look he gives you. None of it matters when he’s looking at you and touching you so delicately.

Bucky traces a finger ever so delicately over the still fading bruise on your cheek bone.

You hadn’t realized he’d been standing so close to you. Or why the disheveled look he’s got going on looks so good on him. Has he ever looked better? Yes, but today he looks kinda hot and vulnerable, in a way that you just wanna comfort him, run your hands through his hair, cuddle the shit out of him.

Out of nowhere you grab his face and kiss him— on the lips!

“You can’t blame me for that. I almost died.”

You murmured against his lips. And to your surprise he doesn’t pull back, instead he deepens the kiss.

“Shut up, I'm still mad at you.” He mumbles against your lips.

“Ha!” You pull back just enough to slap a hand on his chest. “I knew it! You are mad at me!”

Bucky pulls you right back to his arms and rests his forehead on yours. “I’m just…I can’t lose anyone else. Do you understand?”

You nod.

“I’m not mad at you, I’m mad at myself. You got hurt out there, I should’ve—”

You pull back to look him in the eyes, “James Buchanan Barnes it is not your fault I got hurt. I should’ve called for backup, it’s not your responsibility to keep me safe.”

“Yes it is. You’re my partner.”

“You say that like it means something else. What are you really trying to say, Sarge?”

As if the kiss you two shared hadn’t made it clear this certainly would.

“Star, you are everything to me.”

And your anger makes an appearance again, you pull away from him. “I’m finding that a little hard to believe, cause since I woke up all you’ve done is avoid me.”

“I’m just— seeing you there in a puddle of blood it fucked me up.”

“Waking up and seeing my partner walking out on me fucked me up. You were the last thing on my mind before I passed out. I was trying to call for— I was going to call for you when I blacked out. Then I wake up and see you walk out the door and never come back.”

This isn’t how Bucky pictured this moment. It should’ve gone like in the movies. You both admit your feelings, kiss and voila: happy ending. Not you angry at him, with unshed tears in your eyes.

“I’m sorry I’m an idiot that can’t handle his own feelings. But I love you. I need you to know that. I love you.” He squeezes your hands.

“That’s the thing Bubba, I love you too. So don’t you dare walk out on me ever again.”

You pull him in for a hug and you climb on him like a koala, arms around his shoulders and legs around his torso. He tells you he loves you again and assures you that he’s not going anywhere without you. “Well then, take me to my room. You owe me three weeks worth of cuddles.”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes x female reader #fluffy angst #angsty #angsty fluff

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forever-rogue · 1 year

Note

So I have this idea for a peter x reader. basically reader is really quiet and shes friends with Peter. anyway, she develops feeling for him but doubts that he'll ever feel the same and tries to hide it as much as possible. eventually when Peter tells her his feelings she laughs and thinks it's a joke like "how would u like me?" and Peter slows down sadly and is like "why would u think I'm joking?" and ends with just fluffy fluffy confessions and comfort <3

AN | Oh yes, one of my favorite tropes, aka Peter Parker confesses his love but you’re not buying it❤️

Pairing | tasm!Peter Parker x Fem!Reader

Warnings | Language

Word Count | 3k

Masterlist | Main | Peter

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You’d known Peter Parker for the latter part of twenty years.

You’d known that you were in love with him for the last five years. You were pretty sure you’d been in love with him much longer than that, but realization hadn’t dawned on you just yet.

The revelation had come to you out of the blue one evening when you were at home in your shared apartment, the two of you watching a movie. He didn’t even really do anything special, it just hit as you listened to him comment on random scenes throughout the movie. You were in love with him.

But just as quickly as you had your breakthrough, you decided to push it to the side, compartmentalized to the back of your mind to decay there. You might have been helplessly in love with him, enamored and enraptured by him, but you would never tell him.

There was absolutely no way that Peter would ever return your feelings, not even remotely. No, nope, nah. You were his best friend, and that’s all you would ever be. That was your destiny, and while you hated it, you hated the idea of a life without Peter even more.

So, like some kind of self professed martyr, you decided to live with your secret.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Are you even paying attention?” you weren’t, not until Peter was waving his hand in front of your face, but he didn’t need to know that. You turned your attention back to him and gave him a tight lipped smile and even weaker nod. He laughed, sugar sweet and syrupy, “you’re lying!”

“Am not,” you huffed petulantly, poking around the food that was on your plate. Admittedly you’d lost your appetite and zoned out when Peter started talking about Kim from work and how she’d asked him out again. He insisted that he’d turned her down, again, but it didn’t cause that nagging feeling in the pit of your stomach to go away, “I couldn’t listen to another word out of your mouth, Parker. The sound alone could put me right to sleep.”

“Oh honey,” he took a sip of his drink, leaning back in his chair as he appraised you. You felt warm under his intent gaze, avoiding his eyes as you practically stared holes into the table, “we both know that’s not true.”

“How?” you snapped your gaze back to him, and found the most satisfied little smirk on his face.

“You wouldn’t have been friends with me for so long if you really thought that,” he leaned forward and shot you a wink, which caused you to almost melt into a puddle, “right?”

“You’re the worst,” there was nothing but an affectionate lilt in your words, “the absolute worst.”

“But you love me,” you knew it was meant as a friendly comment but you felt like your heart had just plummeted into your stomach. Did he know? He couldn’t know.

“Whatever,” you took the cloth napkin off your lap and tossed onto the table. You were out at a nice restaurant, both of you dressed to the nines; it would have been easy to assume you were a couple on a date. The waiter had made a comment about what a lovely couple you were, “hurry up so we can get out of here and get home.”

Home. As in your singular home. That’s right; not only were you a fool, you were an absolute fool. One that lived with her best friend that she was secretly in love with. It made things…interesting. But, if anything, it was a good exercise in futility.

“Pajamas and ice cream?” he asked, as if it was really any question. At least one night a week included a lazy night in watching movies in pajamas and lots of ice cream. You loved that you were able to enjoy such simple things, along with the finer things.

“Duh,” you teased, “now come on, before someone mistakes for a couple again.”

“Would that really be such a bad thing?” there was a look of genuine curiosity in his eyes that almost made you spill your deep, dark secret then and there.

“Yes,” you lied, biting the inside of your cheek, “the worst!”

Peter said nothing but you could feel him watching you. You were afraid that somehow he would learn all your deepest, darkest secrets.

You hoped he wouldn’t…you weren’t sure how you’d survive that.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

When you woke up the next morning, it was to something that smelled extremely delicious. You groaned as you rolled onto your back, rubbing the last of the sleep from your eyes, stomach gurgling loudly. You slipped out of bed and pulled on a discarded hoodie - it used to be Peter’s but was now yours - and socks as you padded out into the hallway.

Noise was coming from the kitchen and your brow furrowed as you walked towards the commotion. Peter’s bedroom door was open which meant that it was definitely him that was the source of all the commotion. Odd. He was usually not an early riser.

“Pete?” a large vase of daffodils, tulips, and daisies sat on the small kitchen table. Your favorites. The boy was in the kitchen, in a t-shirt and gray joggers (damn him), and moved around to make sure everything was ready at the same time, “what’s all this?”

“Hey babe,” the pet name flowed from his lips like it was a no brainer, like this was all so natural between the two of you. You supposed, in a way, it was, “I’m making breakfast.”

“I can see that,” you raised an eyebrow and gestured around, “what’s the occasion?”

“Nothing,” he shrugged lightly, “just wanted to do something nice for you.”

“Peter, that’s…really sweet,” yeah. You weren’t even going to attempt to deny that much, “it looks and smells delicious. And the flowers-”

“Also for you,” this time a sheepish expression crossed his features along with a pretty pink blush, “I just thought you deserved something nice.”

“Is there…it’s not my birthday,” you mused out loud, “it’s not a holiday. So…am I missing something?”

“No,” he considered you for a moment before swallowing thickly, “I just…let me do something nice without the whole interrogation thing!”

“You’re Spider-Man, you should be used to interrogations.”

“Not from you!”

“Well, consider it practice.”

“No, listen, I-” he groaned lightly, swiping a hand over his face, messing up his already roguish hair, “I-I-I-”

“You can’t get all flustered!” you teased, “can’t let the enemy know you’re weak!”

“I’m not-”

“Petey,” you laughed softly, enjoying the little back and forth banter, “I’m just teasing. No need to get so worked up. Look, I’m going to go-”

“I’m in love with you.”

“And shower before breakfast,” the two of you spoke at the same time, but you heard each other loud and clear. You opened and closed your mouth a few times, feeling the heat rise up in your cheeks, flustered and wanting to disappear, “w-why would you say that?”

“What?” he looked confused. Your heart felt like it was about to burst out of your chest, “what do you mean?”

“I was just teasing you, but you don’t have to be cruel,” you felt tears already welling up as your lip trembled with effort to keep from crying, “why would you be so mean?”

“How? I don’t…what?”

“Why would you tease me and say you loved me?” despite your best efforts the tears had welled up and rolled down your face, “I was just messing around, but that’s…hurtful.”

“Wait - what do you mean?” a look of pure panic crossed his features as he shook his head, “why would I just say that? I would never say something like that if I didn’t mean it. Honey-”

“You don’t love me,” you threw up your hands in exasperation, “not like that. You’re my best friend!”

“You’re my best friend too,” he took a step closer and you took one back, “and I do love you as you my best, but you’re so much more than that. I’m in love with you.”

“You’re lying,” you insisted, unable to wrap your head around the fact that he might be telling the truth, “why would you be in love with me? I’m just…me.”

“That’s why I’m in love with you!” he wasn’t sure what your reaction was going to be, but he wasn’t fully expecting this one, “I’ve been in love with you for years! Have you really never noticed?”

“You’re just being a good friend,” were asking him or telling him? You weren’t entirely sure, “you don’t love me! You could never love me. I’m nothing.”

“You’re everything,” but you weren’t listening to him anymore. You were shaking your head, absentmindedly brushing your tears out of your face as you stumbled towards your bedroom.

“No, please just stop,” you insisted. You ducked into your bedroom and slammed the door shut before locking it. Realistically, if he really wanted to get in it would have been a breeze for him.

He called your name a few more times before you heard his retreating footsteps go back to the kitchen. All you could think to do was to climb into bed and get under the covers. Dealing with anything - what he had said and what you had said - seemed like the last thing you wanted to think about.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

At some point you woke up from the stress and sadness nap you had taken and found that the sun was shining brightly into the room. You looked at your phone with a groan when you saw that it was the middle of the afternoon.

Hesitantly you dragged yourself out of bed, again, and slinked towards the door, sticking your ear to it and listening for any signs of life, also known as Peter Benjamin Parker. This would be one of the times it would have been handy to have his enhanced senses, but even with your regular old human abilities, you were sure he wasn’t home.

With a sigh of relief you opened the door and walked back into the crime scene; the kitchen looked exactly as it had when you’d found Peter in it earlier. He must have left to give you space after your little - okay big - freak out. He’d always been good with boundaries and giving you space when needed.

Part of you almost wished he was here. The flowers on the table were almost taunting you, and you walked over to them, gently touching over their petals. Of course he knew your favorite flowers, he got them for you…kind of a lot now that you were thinking about it. He knew you inside out, better than anyone else, and sometimes you were convinced that he knew you better than you knew yourself.

You stepped into the kitchen and started to clean things up, putting dishes in the sink and other stuff away. The thought that Peter had touched each and everyone of these things provided a sense of relief.

Peter often did these sorts of things. He doted on you, you would absolutely admit this, but you’d always chalked it up to his friendly nature. But then…he wasn’t like this with his other friends. He was openly affectionate, yes, but with you it was different. You thought about the fact that he never went on dates with anyone - he would always turn them down, including Kim from work. The few times you’d gone on a date he always seemed upset, even if he tried to suggest otherwise. Huh.

People often asked if the two of you were dating, but you always gave them the same answer: platonic friends with a capital P. It sucked sometimes, especially when you knew that women, and men, practically threw themselves at Peter.

You thought back on all the things he did for you, all the days, nights, and weekends you’d spent together through the years and oh. Oh.

“Oh,” you whispered the singular word out loud to yourself, halfway through washing a plate when it hit you.

Peter hadn’t been lying; he was telling you the truth. The truth had been so obvious and right in front of you the entire time.

You wanted to curl up and vanish. Not only had you accused him of lying and only loving you as a friend, you’d run out on him and refused to talk to him like a stubborn child. All you could do was hope that you hadn’t ruined everything.

When you were finished cleaning up the mess from earlier, you made a mental plan. Maybe he wouldn’t believe you or forgive you, but it was worth a shot like a sort of romantic hail mary.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Peter spent the better part of the day out of the apartment, opting to go and work in his office. His mind was reeling and the only way he could think to get it to quiet down was to throw himself into his work. He hoped that by the time he got home you would be willing to talk to him, or at the very least you wouldn’t run from him.

Needless to say, he wasn’t expecting you to be in the kitchen making dinner as you sang along to whatever record you threw on the vintage player. You’d gifted it to him a few years ago on his birthday after you’d seen him eyeing it about a hundred times. It was just one of the many ways you showed him love. He’d fallen even more in love that day.

“Hello?” he asked timidly as he kicked off his sneakers by the door. On the table next to the flowers he’d gotten for you, was another vase, this one filled with daisies and sunflowers; his favorites…because they reminded him of you.

At the sound of his voice you slowly turned around, bracing yourself for about a million different possibilities.

“Hi Pete,” you held up your hands in a meek little wave, feeling your flush furiously, “listen-”

“I’m sorry,” the two of you said at the same time.

“W-wait,” a pretty pout settled on your lips. He wanted to kiss you until it went away and was replaced with a smile, “what are you sorry for?”

“For making you uncomfortable,” he shrugged nervously, “I didn’t think what I said would come across so…like it did. I thought you knew, or at least kind of knew, how I felt. I thought maybe you felt the same and it was finally time to tell you. That didn’t land well obviously.”

“Peter,” whenever you said his name like that it made him want to melt into a puddle.

There were a million things you wanted to say, but couldn’t think of anything. Nothing seemed quite adequate or strong enough to convey the amount of love you held for the man in front of you.

You walked the few remaining steps over and stopped right in front of him, both of you staring at each other intensely.

You reached up to touch his face, your hand resting on his cheek. You leaned up and closed the little bit of remaining distance, pressing your lips against his. It only took a moment for his brain to catch up to what was happening, and when he did, his hands settled on your waist, and pulled you ever closer into his body.

Kissing Peter left so natural, so right, like you’d been doing it forever. There was no learning curve - the two of you already know each other so well - no awkward fumbling or misses. It just…was.

And kissing him was addicting. Now that you knew what it was like, you never wanted to stop. You wanted him all over you, all the time, forever.

But eventually you needed a breath of air and reluctantly pulled apart. You found him watching you like you were the most wonderful thing he had ever seen (you were).

“I’ve been in love with you for a very, very long time,” you admitted softly, causing his eyes to lit up, “I just never thought…you’ve always been my best friend and I was convinced you’d never want more. So I never said anything.”

“I’ve always wanted more - I want everything,” he took your face in his hands, cradling it delicately as he studied, “it’s always been you.”

“I thought that I was just me, and I’d never be good enough for you. And then I thought maybe you found out how I felt and you were teasing me,” it seemed really silly saying it out loud.

“I would never do that,” you knew he wouldn’t. Your own self doubt had you convinced of all the wrong things, “I meant it all. I’ve always meant it.”

“I thought about it while you were gone,” it was a soft confession that had you giving him a shy smile, “and I realized it was always so obvious.”

“It’s been terribly obvious,” he agreed as you exchanged soft laughs.

“Terribly,” you agreed, “will you forgive me for how I acted earlier?”

“There’s nothing to forgive,” he insisted, sweet and saccharine, “can I kiss you more?”

“I would-”

Before you could finish what you were saying, you smelt something burning and turned around to find your pain on fire. You panicked while Peter fell into action, taking the pan off and setting it in the sink before getting the fire out. It was just one of the many ways in which you complimented each other perfectly.

“Anyway, you were saying?” He had the biggest, silliest smile on his face as the kitchen filled with the smell of burnt food. You couldn’t help but break into a fit of giggles at the absurdity of it all...and then the smoke alarm went off.

“You can kiss me anytime,” you finally got to say what you had wanted to, shouting slightly over the alarm before the two of you dissolved into laughter, “I love you, Peter Parker. Really.”

“I really love you, honey bee.”

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker x fem!reader #peter parker x you #andrew garfield #andrew garfield x reader #andrew!peter parker x reader #andrew!peter x reader #tasm!peter parker #tasm!peter parker x you #tasm!peter parker x reader

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training4theapocalypse · 6 months

Text

Tiny Stitches (Adrian Chase x gn!reader)

Rating: Explicit - 18+ only

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: SMUT, Graphic injury detail, Handjob

Summary: Your Halloween plans are cancelled last minute. You’re ready for a night alone eating Halloween candy until Vigilante comes to your door needing stitched up.

A/N: Based on this ask by @impossibleheartflower - thank you! No pronouns are used but the reader is wearing a slutty nurse outfit. It’s pretty nondescript (e.g. no specific mention of skirt or pants) so the slutty nurse outfit can be whatever you want it to be. Maybe the real slutty nurse outfit is the friends we made along the way.

Masterlist

Chapter text

You dip your hand in your bubble bath to test the temperature - it’s not exactly going to make up for the fact that your Halloween date flaked at the last second but you know you’ll feel better when you take off this ridiculous costume and sink into the bubbles.

You hear a distant knock from your front door and turn off the tap.

It’s sort of late for trick-or-treaters. Right? Maybe your apartment is the last stop for the kids who live in your building. You don’t want to end up on a register somewhere so you pull on a robe over your sexy nurse costume.

“Coming!” You rush out of the bathroom to unchain your front door.

You let out a gasp of shock when you open it. Thud. A man’s body falls backwards into your apartment.

“What the fuck?!”

Is he… dead?

Dread fills you as your eyes ping over every part of his figure, looking for signs of life. But it’s hard to tell when he’s dressed in a black and teal Halloween costume with his face completely concealed by a mask.

Almost completely.

His eyes are just visible behind the red visor on his mask. He blinks up at you. He blinks. He’s alive.

The man dressed up as the masked Vigilante of Evergreen groans. “It’s me... Sorry.”

That voice is familiar. “Who- ?”

Vigilante stares up at you standing over him. He knows he’s got more pressing matters to worry about than being offended that you don’t recognise his voice but he can’t help it. He’d know your voice anywhere. Hell, he even recognises the way your keys jingle in the hallway when you get home from work.

“I’m your neighbour… from across the hall.” He clutches his side with one hand so he can rip off his mask with the other.

Oh.

‘Hot guy’ is the stupid thought that pops into your head when you stare at his upside-down face lying across your doorway. You realise who he is now after all, under his Halloween costume, with his dark, curly hair and sharp jaw - all that’s missing is his glasses. You’re not even sure of his name - you’ve been so used to referring to him as ‘Hot Guy Across The Hall’ in your friends’ group chat for months that you’re more accustomed to calling him that in your head.

‘Hot Guy Across The Hall took a package in for me today.’

‘I bet you’d like to take a package from Hot Guy Across The Hall.’

You snap out of it when you see a trickle of blood drip onto your floor. You look at the gloved hand clutching his side - he’s holding a wound on his abdomen. A dark puddle of blood leaks through the fabric, staining the white parts of his gloves crimson. A new terror sets in as you realise he’s been attacked.

“Please, I need a nurse.”

“This…” You look down at your red and white polyester outfit and the plastic stethoscope around your neck that’s visible underneath your open robe. “This is a Halloween costume.”

“I know that. I’ve seen you in scrubs.”

“I’m a vet.”

“Uh, thank you for your service?”

“A veterinarian.” You stick your head out the door and look up and down the hallway, worried about anyone stumbling upon the bloody scene. “Get in here.” You slip off your robe so you can move freely, then bend down and drag Hot Guy Across The Hall by his underarms into your apartment, sliding him across your wooden floor and shutting the door behind him. Fuck, he's heavier than he looks.

Shit, what was his name?

“Aidan, right?”

“Close enough.” He groans, staring up at your ceiling.

“Can you get up if I help you?”

“Mhm,” he winces in affirmation and you bend down to put his arm around his shoulder. He inhales sharply, holding onto his side as you help him across your small apartment into your bedroom. You’re glad your apartment is clean. Not that you’d admit out loud that you’d tidied it specifically just in case your date had gone well tonight.

You help him onto your fresh bedspread. The blood is definitely going to stain your new sheets. Perfect.

“Okay, let’s see what we’re dealing with,” you say, tossing the plastic stethoscope aside and sitting beside him on the edge of the bed so you can assess the wound. “Wait, is your costume a onesie?”

“No,” he groans. “I just need to take off the belt-” He swears when he removes his hand from his side to unfasten his gunbelt. A jolt of adrenaline courses through you when you realise that attached to him are real guns.

“Okay, let me do that. You just keep applying pressure.” You firmly move his hands from his belt to his wound. The sound of metal on metal clicks in your silent bedroom when you gently unthread the belt from the loops. “There we go, you’re doing great,” you soothe as you place the belt and his gun on the floor and roll up the top half of his suit. Your fingers tremble slightly when you realise the fabric under them isn’t cheap polyester. It’s thick. Lined with what you expect is Kevlar. This is no bargain bin Halloween costume.

Oh shit.

There’s a long but shallow knife wound running down his ribs. It doesn’t look like there’s any damage to his vital organs. But it’s gruesome. “I’ll get my car keys - I’m taking you to a hospital.”

“Wait!” He tries to sit up but yelps in pain and lies back again.

“Please, I can’t go there… Too many questions.”

It confirms your suspicions.

“You’re not dressed up for Halloween.” It’s not a question but you look up to see his response all the same. You’ve been so focused on his injury that you haven’t noticed the way his green eyes have been searching your face. He slowly shakes his head and looks at you beseechingly. Ugh. You can’t say no to those pretty eyes. It’s why you ended up becoming a vet - you just can’t resist the stupid, puppy-dog eyes.

“I don’t have any anaesthetic. This is gonna hurt like a bitch.”

“Thanks.”

“Keep that sentiment in mind when you’re screaming in a second.”

You leave him and boil some water while you busy yourself finding your medical supplies and a bottle of vodka. You set up your things on the bedside table while you sit on a throw pillow on the floor next to the bed.

“God, this is always the worst bit.” He says, squinting at you dipping the gauze in the boiled water, getting ready to clean out the wound.

“Don’t you normally wear glasses?”

“They’re in my pocket.”

You reach into his pocket and carefully place them on his face. “Better?” He nods. “Or maybe you don’t wanna see this?”

“Aren’t you gonna clean it out with vodka first?” He asks as your hand hovers over his wound, holding the gauze.

“Hell no - that’s only in the movies. Alcohol can damage your tissue. This is for us.” You open the bottle with one hand, take a quick swig and shudder before handing him the bottle.

“Shouldn’t you be sober for this?”

“Hey, the dogs never complain when I turn up to work drunk.”

“They don’t?”

Your face cracks into a smile as you take in the sincerity of his look. “A joke. I’m joking.”

“Oh, right. Yeah.” He takes a long gulp of vodka, screws up his face and passes it back to you.

You clean his wound and he clenches his fists, breathing heavily.

“So, you said you’ve done this before?” You ask, trying to distract him.

“Yeah,” he says through gritted teeth.

You scan his toned lower abdomen and spot a gruesome-looking scar just under his navel. “Oof, I can tell. That looks like shit.”

“Hey-” He cuts himself off with a sharp inhale when you give the wound one last wipe.

You thread the sterilised needle. “You ready?”

“Wait.” He extends his arm towards the vodka and you pass it to him so he can take another drink. He shakes his head. “Ready.”

“I’ll be quick. I promise.”

He groans when the needle breaks his skin. “So, what’s your name? If it’s not Aidan.” If you keep him talking, you can take his mind off the pain. Keep him conscious.

“It’s Adrian.”

“How about that? I was close.”

“I know yours. I get your packages sometimes.” He says your full name and address as if reciting a poem.

“Well remembered,” you say, furrowing your brow in concentration as you make the next stitch. He grabs your shoulder instinctively.

“Sorry,” he whimpers.

“It’s okay. You’re doing so good.”

His grip tightens at that.

“Anyway, how come you’re home more than me? You always get my packages. Doesn’t doing all this keep you busy?”

“I work nights. Mostly. Evenings too at my other job.”

“You’re a waiter, right? I’ve seen your uniform.”

“Busboy.”

“That’s cool,” you jabber on, focusing on keeping him distracted. “Must be a pretty convincing secret identity.”

“Right?!” He perks up at your compliment, extremely pleased that you think his secret identity is a good one.

“Bussing tables in the evenings then committing murder at night?”

“It’s not murder.” He grimaces again. The grip on your shoulder is now vice-like. “It’s holding people accountable.”

“Sure, sure…” you say. You feel strangely calm. It’s as if the shy, awkward dude on your bed is just cosplaying as Vigilante. Even though you’re currently stitching up his fresh wound from whatever the fuck it is he’s been up to tonight.

“...You’re not gonna, like, tell anyone, right?” You feel his eyes studying your face as you continue stitching him up.

“That depends. What are you gonna do for me?”

For some reason, his cheeks turn crimson and he blinks rapidly behind his glasses.

“Uh, like what?” he blusters.

“Does your job have any perks?

“Uh… Do you need me to kill someone?”

“No!” And despite the absurdity of the question, you laugh. “I meant like free pink lemonade for life in exchange for stitching you up.”

“Ohhhh, right. I dunno. I might get asked a lot of questions if I give you free drinks.”

“More questions than you’d get at the hospital if I took you there instead?”

“Uh, no, probably not.” He chews his lower lip seriously and it makes you feel bad for teasing him in his sorry state.

“I’m kidding, dude. My lips are sealed.”

The fact he’s Vigilante doesn’t scare you in the way you know it should. You know you should absolutely phone the police. But you kind of enjoy sharing this. A dirty little secret between the two of you.

“Pink lemonade is overhyped,” he says after a few beats.

“Is is not! It’s like the best kind of lemonade.”

“It is - ow! Sorry! Okay, sorry for saying it’s overhyped! Pink lemonade is great. Jesus.”

“That wasn’t on purpose - sorry. It’s just the last stitch… Keep holding onto my shoulder if you want?” Before you even finish the suggestion, his blood-stained gloved grips onto your white nurse outfit. “You’re being so brave.”

“Oh, fuck,” he whimpers.

His whimper makes you feel flustered in a way you hadn’t expected. And you’re pretty sure it’s nothing to do with the task at hand.

You can’t think of a response to comfort him. Your bedside manner leaves a lot to be desired - usually, your patients are much fluffier. You stop short of calling him a good boy and patting his head

Finally, you tie off your last stitch and squeeze some antibacterial ointment onto the neat row of stitches.

“Done. Now take a look at this.” With difficulty, he hoists himself into his elbows to look at his stomach. “Evenly spaced stitches, not too tight, yeah? Now look at these.” You point at the scar on his lower abdomen. “Tiny stitches. They’re too tight. And you shouldn’t make X’s when you sew yourself up. Not bad for a second try, though.”

“That was like the fifth time I’ve done it,” he pouts. “I didn’t think it was that bad.”

“Look, you can feel how it’s gone all bumpy.” You trace your fingers along the scar, feeling the way the skin has healed unevenly under the trail of hair on his stomach.

He flushes again as he looks down at you, your fingers brushing his abdomen.

“What?”

“Sorry.” He lies back again, determinedly looking at the ceiling.

“For what? Oh.” Your forearm brushes against something hard in his pants as you remove your hand from his stomach. “My bad.”

“It’s not - ” he winces, trying to sit up further but changes his mind mid-way through. “Fuck.”

“Does it hurt?”

“My… my boner?”

“No!” You crack up laughing again and he joins in uncertainly as if not sure why. “Your very recent knife wound?”

“Oh. Yeah. I mean - no.” His eyes linger on your body and you suddenly feel very aware of the fact that you’re kneeling at his side wearing not very much clothing. He swallows and looks away quickly. “Y’know, I should go. I don’t wanna ruin your night.”

You laugh like it’s nothing. That this whole situation is totally in your comfort zone.

“Don’t worry about it. I was supposed to be going to a Halloween party with a date but they bailed.”

“They bailed on you?”

“Eh, it happens.” You shrug. “They mighta had a better offer.”

“Than you?” He looks at you seriously and pushes his glasses higher up his nose. “No way. Not possible. You’re, like, a ten.”

You tilt your head and look at him carefully. He takes a sharp inhale of breath when you get up from the floor, sit on the bed next to him and place the back of your hand on his forehead.

“Wha - what are you doing?”

“You don’t seem to have a fever…” His eyebrows scrunch together as he gazes up at you through his wire-rimmed frames. “I just thought you might be hallucinating.”

“Don’t pretend like you’re not hot.”

“You don’t have to compliment me just because I stitched you up.”

“Am not!” he protests like you’re teasing him. “I’d compliment you all the time if you didn’t run off every time I saw you.”

It’s your turn to protest. “I do not ‘run off’.”

Although it’s not strictly true. You sort of do. You just thought he hadn’t noticed.

“Uh, yeah!” he says. “When you picked up that package last week? It was kinda impressive how fast you sprinted across the hall.”

You feel heat rising in your neck as you remember it. He had answered the door wearing just a pair of grey sweatpants, grinning as you read the indiscreet label plastered on the front.

‘HOSPITAL HOTTIE - ADULT FANTASY LINGERIE’

You had stammered a quick thanks before fleeing back to your apartment where you shut the door behind you and leaned against it, eyes closed, not sure whether to text your friends immediately with this news or to strip off and take a cold shower.

You look down at your almost bare legs and smooth out the front of your outfit, now wishing you hadn’t so hastily thrown off your bathrobe. It must look ridiculous.

“Y’know when I saw the label, I thought a lot about what was in that package.”

Your eyes dart up instinctively to see if he’s making fun of you. He’s smiling. But sincerely. It’s a cute smile. With dimples.

“You did?”

“Tch - Hell yeah I did. I sort of… I dunno. Fantasised about this, I guess.”

Your throat feels dry. “About this?”

“Yeah, I mean I thought I might have been dreaming when you actually opened the door like that.”

You look at him suspiciously. “Adrian… did you - did you get stabbed on purpose so I’d take care of you?”

“What? No! I never get stabbed.”

“Never?”

You touch the scar on his lower abdomen again and this time - intentionally - your forearm rests on his crotch.

“Well, hardly ever.”

“You should let me stitch you up from now on,” you say, as your fingers dance down his stomach. “The next rare occasion you get stabbed.”

The heel of your hand barely grazes the tip of his hard cock through his pants. When his eyes lock onto yours, you know you’re not being slick. He swallows. You freeze. You’re worried you’ve overstepped.

You both stare at each other for a few seconds.

You realise you’ve been holding your breath. “What else was in your fantasy?” you whisper in an exhale.

“Fuck.” He closes his eyes like he’s throwing caution to the wind. “This.” His gloved hand clamps on top of yours faster than you’d have expected in his injured state and he firmly moves your hand over his cock.

Fuck it.

Your hands work urgently, unzipping the suit hugging his waistline and suddenly his warm cock is under your palm.

He suppresses a groan of pain and you look up in alarm, worried that you’ve hurt him somehow but you can see he’s trying to sit up.

“Lie back - you’re gonna hurt yourself.”

“It’s - ow, fuck - it’s worth it if I can kiss you.”

You push his chest back gently so he’s lying on your pillows and kneel on the bed to kiss him. As soon as your lips meet his, he tries to lift himself up again, lurching himself deeper into your mouth. Your tongue slips into his mouth as you push, more firmly this time, onto his chest so he can’t sit up.

You lean your forehead against his and his glasses push into your brow. “Keep still. Nurse’s orders.”

“I thought you were a vet,” he says breathlessly.

“I’ll be whatever you want me to be.”

You lick your palm, wrap your hand around his cock and slide it along his shaft.

“Oh fuck... Fuck - you’re so hot. Where - where have you been all my life?”

His eyebrows knit together in a beautiful, pathetic sort of way that makes your lower tummy burn dangerously.

“Across the hall in this slutty little outfit. Waiting to take care of you.”

“Holy fucking shit.” He tenses his thighs and jerks his hips up into your slick fist with a laboured groan.

“Don’t. Stay still,” you tell him sternly. For some reason your reprimand makes him clench his jaw.

“God, I wanna fuck you so bad,” he says through gritted teeth.

“Yeah? I bet you do. I bet you’ve been jerking off thinking about it.”

“Y- yeah,” he gasps. His cheeks are flushed pink. You don’t think it’s from embarrassment - you have a feeling he doesn’t embarrass easily so you press on.

“Tell me.”

“I’ve been - shit - I’ve been jerking off thinking about you.”

“Doing what?” Your hand picks up pace and he squirms underneath your touch.

“I told you. This.”

“Just this?”

“Fuck. No.”

“Tell me then,” you repeat.

“I wanted to - oh god - when you ran across the hall, I wanted to grab you.” His voice strains. “Pull down your scrubs and fuck you so hard you wouldn’t forget my name again.”

You feel yourself dissolving then and there. “Shit. I would have let you.”

“Ah - fuck,” he whispers as he throbs under your hand. “Let me. Please.”

“No.” You stay in your kneeling position on the bed - one hand bracing against his chest to prevent him from sitting up and the other pumping up and down his cock. “You’re hurt. Lemme take care of you.”

He whimpers and pushes his head back into your pillows. The muscles in his pale neck tighten as he swallows hard. You can’t resist leaning down and pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses on the exposed sensitive flesh of his throat.

“Relax, Adrian,” you murmur, your mouth pressed against his skin.

When his name leaves your lips, his groan vibrates in his throat against your mouth in response.

“Fuck - fuck - you feel so good.”

“You know where’d feel better, right?”

Adrian’s hips jerk up into your hand again. You don’t scold him this time - you let him squirm and work his hips in sync with your fist. He can handle it.

You kiss along his jawline and meet his lips again.

“Cum for me and you can fuck me when you’re healed,” you whisper.

And quicker than you’d expected - he does.

A shaky gasp leaves his lips and without really realising you’re doing it, you pant with him, breathing each other’s air as spurts of warmth coat your fingers. Your hand flexes along his length as you milk every last rope of cum from him and he collapses back onto your fluffy, white pillows.

Grabbing tissues from your bedside table, he lets you clean him up without complaint as he breathes heavily, staring at your ceiling.

“Better?” You give him a wry smile and he brings his gaze back to you.

“Yeah…” He looks down at his new stitches apprasingly. “I just wish I hadn’t been stabbed.”

“Yeah, well I’m kind of glad you were.”

He laughs so hard that he winces in pain and holds his side again. “Fuck. You’re kind of a freak, you know that, right?”

“Maybe I just like helping injured little things that give me puppy dog eyes.”

Adrian exhales a gentle laugh and fixes his glasses.

“Did you mean what you said about stitching me up again?”

You meet his green eyes. “Did you mean what you said about fucking me so hard I’d never forget your name again?”

“Uh, yeah? Obviously.”

“Then sure.” You toss the used tissue into the trash can and kiss him again. “Fucking sounds good. Pink lemonade is overhyped, anyway.”

#adrian chase x reader #adrian chase #vigilante #vigilante peacemaker #vigilante x reader #smut #halloween

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kentopedia · 9 months

Text

carefully, i was going to live

FEATURING. past nanami kento x f!reader, gojo satoru x reader — wc: 2.9k

SUMMARY: you and gojo realize you share the same kind of pain.

CONTENTS: shibuya arc / jjk s2 spoilers, death, grief, depression, suicidal thoughts, references to disordered eating, implied satosugu, platonic gojo x reader, anger, angst, gojo isn’t sealed

note: reader & gojo’s relationship for the future is up to your interpretation. title is from a mitski song <3

The world was bleak outside your window.

With November came the death of all things beautiful. The trees grew barren, flowers wilted into dreary puddles, the sky turned a muddy shade of grey, and your house transformed into a tomb.

It was almost evening now. The streets were busy with people commuting home from work, children skipping along sidewalks after a tedious day at school. Each expression became the epitome of human nature, and through all their ups and downs, there they stood, alive.

You blinked at the scene, just enough to wet your eyes, trying to ignore the spiteful hatred that bubbled up in you against cheerful strangers.

When the women had a smile on their faces, your mind easily morphed them into miserable frowns, weaved a story of how their partners treated them terribly. Children’s loud giggles turned into wretched cries, sobs from spoiled complaints of not getting their way. Men’s casual conversations on their cell phones became a long-winded rant of how their job was slowly destroying them.

There wasn’t anything left for you in the world but misery. It should only be fair that other people received the same.

Perhaps that was an evil thought, but you didn’t care. The bed was cold, and it had started to smell of something awful from the sheets that housed your own grime and sweat. You shivered, bundling yourself up in the blankets more.

An ache increased in your stomach before it grumbled, breaking the silence. Though, it suppressed its own pleas, knowing better than to suspect sustenance after so many evenings of emptiness. Over and over, you ignored your hunger, a part of you hoping that your body would begin to devour itself from the inside out.

Perhaps, then, you’d finally achieve the peace that you’d been longing for.

From the world inside your mind, Kento scolded you, begged you to pull yourself out of the darkness that you’d crawled into. He’d be unhappy, that much was certain. One look at your unkempt hair would put a crease between his eyebrows. He’d recoil at the piled trash that you’d been too exhausted to take out.

Still, you knew better than to believe he’d be anything but kind about it. Stern, maybe, but uncompromising words would never leave his lips without soft eyes and a sad smile.

You swallowed down the nausea that erupted from within you, and buried yourself deeper into the pillow, wishing the couple in the distance would cease their affectionate embrace.

A tear collected on your lash line.

For a moment, you let yourself fall into the painful peace of delusion. A phantom touch rested on your skin, comforting fingertips dancing along your hip. Kento Nanami’s love pressed into every subtle graze. Please. Let me help you.

His voice was raspy, unfamiliar, and you wondered if you were starting to forget the sound of it, the exact inflection of his words, even though you listened to his painfully short inbox message every day, replayed the voicemails he left you more often than music.

A dry sob forced its way up, though no sound released as you squeezed Kento’s pillow tighter, digging your nose into the cotton. You were desperate for his lingering scent, but it had been two weeks since he’d been killed, and there was nothing left of him.

Still, you sprayed his old cologne on every surface, left everything as he had, and pretended that he was still around.

Grief hugged you tight, trying to embody the embrace that Kento had once given you. You didn’t hear the knock at your front door, muffled from two rooms away and the constant swirl of your heartbroken musings.

No one had visited you in two weeks. Itadori had tried, but you’d screamed far too cruelly at him, even though he was just a kid, and none of this was his fault. The list of guests had been shortened since then.

You didn’t blame them.

Someone said your name, though it was distant, and it was easy to chalk it up to your imagination. Though, the plea became a whisper through a grisly storm, then a scream over the fierce winds in an attempt to reach you.

You opened your eyes, shifting to face the noise.

Satoru Gojo stood at the edge of your bed, his large frame towering over you with every ounce of power he’d been born with, his slack jaw unable to hide his horror at the mess you’d made of yourself. Blindfolded eyes flicked across the room, then, his lips curled into a grimace.

“You’ve been ignoring my calls,” he said. Another sound but your own breath was so unnatural in the stale room. It took you far too long to understand him.

You blinked back once, before rolling over to return your attention to the window once more, the scene beyond it still playing like a television series. Kento had always hated that your bedroom had a view of the city, some illusion of privacy gone now that he could see the world outside. Though, it was the only thing you could be grateful for now, as that square panel of glass became your salvation.

“Sorry.” Your voice was hoarse, raspy. You weren’t sure when you’d used it last. “Phone’s dead.” It had been for days. The slender device rested useless on your nightstand, and you wondered how many people had died since Kento; jujutsu sorcerers didn’t stop fighting just because you had.

Gojo shuffled around the room. You peered over your shoulder to see him sliding the charger into your phone, the screen lighting up later with a bright logo and a ding.

“Everyone’s been calling.” His back was to you, muscles taut with exhaustion and strain. “There aren’t enough sorcerers. We’ve lost so many people.”

You tensed and considered blocking your ears, humming a song like a petulant child. No part of you wanted to hear about Jujutsu. Satoru Gojo could manage on his own, and you didn’t give a damn about saving the world anymore.

“I can’t help you,” you said, realizing just how true that was. There wasn’t an ounce of energy within your body.

Though you had let yourself rot, you had grand plans of finding a curse you could never defeat. You would never be strong enough in your current state, and that was alright. You just wanted to go out with some semblance of a purpose, as Kento had. Maybe that way, it wouldn’t feel so much like a suicide.

“I know,” Gojo sighed, and you waited a minute before he spoke again. “That’s not why I came.”

You breathed; the process was no longer subconscious. “Then why are you here?”

Gojo came around the bed to stand in front of you once more, so close that he blocked your view of the window. His icy irises had been revealed, somehow warning you just how serious he was about this intervention.

The laugh you couldn’t muster up came out in a shaky exhale. You weren’t scared of Gojo, and you certainly weren’t impressed by him enough to listen to whatever wisdom he wanted to bestow upon you.

“I just want to help my old friend.” A twinge of pity in his voice irritated you, even though it was warranted. The scene before him couldn’t evoke any sort of emotion except for pathetic despair. “Is that so hard to believe?”

“No.” Your muscles were weak as you maneuvered your shoulder in a half-hearted shrug. “I just don’t care. Not even Satoru Gojo can fix everything. I thought you’ve learned that by now.” It was cruel, you knew that, but you spat the words without regret, rolling onto your back.

The stiffness in your hips alleviated, and finally, he couldn’t pin you with his gaze. You could only imagine the way he’d flinched at your comment, wondering when the shy, sweet girl from his youth had become such a bitter woman.

Your eyes glued to the ceiling, and you imagined Kento there beside you, staring at you with a wistful smile while you merely blinked up at the white walls.

Gojo said your name again. Then he was tugging on your arm, and the clench around your heart unfurled, bringing you away from the desperate fantasy.

“Look at me,” Gojo said, and his words were harsher, exasperated, and you realized he’d been talking this entire time, minutes of one-sided conversation flowing in one ear and out the other.

“No, Satoru,” you growled, trying to resist, even though you didn’t have the strength. He pulled you to a seated position easily, forcing you to look at him once more, and never let go of your wrist. “Get out of my house.”

“Not until you talk to me.”

“Get out.”

“No.” Satoru stared at you, his eyes cold and unflinching, and for a moment, you realized just how fearsome he could be, why so many curses looked him in the eye and remembered that they didn’t stand a chance. Then, he blinked, and that image was gone, left with the picture of a broken man who had lost too many friends, and was trying not to lose you too. “You won’t talk to anyone; you won’t see anyone. You’re destroying yourself like this. I won’t let it go on any longer.”

The sympathy and disappointment in his voice disgusted you, and you recoiled with a renewed strength, slapping his hand away. “I don’t care if you want to be a hero now. You couldn’t help Kento, and you can’t help me. What good is being the strongest if you can’t even save the people that you care about?”

Gojo tensed, his jaw clenching like you’d slapped him across the face. That, at least, gave you some sort of satisfaction, even if it only lasted for a moment. A twinge of regret started, burning brighter and brighter until the weight of your comment came down on you.

There was a point to being angry at the world, to projecting your suffering onto strangers. They would never bear witness to every ounce of your misery. But Gojo had known you since you were a child, had cared about Kento too, and you were treating him no better than the curses that had killed the man you loved.

“Fine,” Gojo said more tersely. “I can’t help you. You have to want to help yourself, too.” He raked a hand across his face, revealing dark, purple circles, and sallow skin. The two of you were an ugly picture—the perfect personification of every struggle a jujutsu sorcerer could experience. “I just thought you’d want to know you still have a friend. Nanami and Haibara may be gone, and…” He looked away, mouth pulling down further. “Suguru, but I’m still here, you know?”

You swallowed, even though your lips were too parched to produce any saliva. They were cottony and stuck together as you spoke. “Don’t come back here, Gojo.” Though you swayed, lightheaded, you didn’t lay back down, only curled your knees into your chest, feeling small. “I don’t want to be a sorcerer anymore. I don’t want to remember any of it.”

Gojo hesitated, disappointed that his previous comment hadn’t hit as hard as he’d intended.

“What will you do, then?” he asked, his hands helplessly dangling by his side before he moved to sit beside you.

“Nothing.” The word felt like a punishment to say, even when that’s all you’d been doing, for days. Your life meant nothing anymore, so there was no point in trying. “I’ll forget I ever loved Kento Nanami and then I’ll disappear.”

Gojo’s face turned, his eyes narrowing, lips curling down. “No, you won’t.”

You almost came back with a childish retort—but it no longer seemed worth it. You turned back towards the window, wondering if it would rain soon. The sky looked like it might.

“Why not?”

“Because you’re the only person still alive who knew Nanami exactly as he was. There are people out there who cared enough about the both of you to not let you throw that all away.”

Guilt gnawed at you. Kento may not have ever respected Gojo for his decisions as a sorcerer, but deep down, he’d always known that he was a good man who tried to do right by everyone.

“What am I supposed to do, then?” you said, quietly at first, swallowing back the heavy emotions that weighed on you. Satoru watched you, never interrupting, though your pause was long and burdened. “I just want it to stop. It hurts so much, Satoru.”

“I know.”

“Everyone moved on like Shibuya never happened.” You twirled the ring around your finger as the heavy tears returned, ones that you’d thought had long been expelled. It seemed impossible that someone should be able to cry without end, yet, your grief was unrelenting, and your cheeks grew wet once more. “Everyone kept going, and I can’t do that. I can’t pretend like I didn’t lose my entire future. I’m never going to get married, Satoru. I’ll never be able to—”

You stopped, choked by your own emotions as a lump rose in your throat, sour like bile. It was the first time you’d said the words out loud. They tasted worse than they felt in your mind. You’d never be able to call Kento Nanami your husband.

Gojo’s eyes softened, and though he reached for you, you flinched away, swallowing over and over to bury your tears. Heaving breaths came, unsteady.

“Nanami wouldn’t want this for you.” It was cruel, too close to mockery to make you feel anything but anger.

You already knew that you were disappointing the man who loved you with every fiber of his being. The sight of you so weakened would wreck Kento, but you couldn’t get yourself to move out of the house. Not even when your skin yearned for a ray of sunlight, or your body screamed for something other than the stale convenience store snacks.

“Don’t say that. Kento’s not here anymore.” His name came out choked on your lips, the first time you’d said it since screaming it in misery. The word didn’t feel so much like love anymore. It was sorrow, wrapped into two tiny syllables. “What he’d want doesn’t matter.”

Satoru lowered his voice, treating you as fragile as you’d become, uncertain how to speak to someone who would never want to listen. “It does matter. He loved you so much.”

You covered your ears, squeezed your eyes shut. “Satoru, please. Stop it.”

“He’d want you to be happy—”

“I don’t care.” You spoke over his ramblings and pushed him away until you were certain he’d fall off the bed. Though, it did nothing to move him, strong and steadfast Satoru Gojo who would never be toppled. “You just don’t understand. I replay it over and over in my head, wondering why I wasn’t there, why you weren’t there.” You dropped your head in your hands, breathing into your palms like a paper bag. “It’s not fair.”

“Nothing’s fair.” Satoru said, the age-old cliché, a hand hesitant on your wrist. He was quiet when he said your name again. “I know how you feel.”

“No you don’t.” You slapped him away, even when he held strong, even when he let you see the anguish he usually hid away, let it erase the warmth from his expression.

You remembered dark long hair, kind brown eyes, a young man who had once held such a promising future. Two best friends that perhaps had been more, never sharing the secrets of their ill-fated bond.

“No, you don’t.”

Gojo was scooting closer, pulling you into his arms, the embrace tight, protective.

He was serious and sullen in a way that you hadn’t seen since Geto died. Gojo was a master at veiling his emotions in laughter, but it seemed now that your own emptiness was reflected back at you, the sheer desire to stop existing all at once.

“I know it better than anyone.” Nothing more than a whisper. The tears were too heavy and hot; there was nothing you could do to stop them. “You’re not alone.”

You were quiet for a moment, then another, before everything that you’d been feeling for the past two weeks crashed upon you like a wave, drowning you, and you were unable to breathe, clinging to Gojo like he was the only thing holding you above water.

You’d known Kento for ten years. You’d been strangers, friends, lovers parted by death before either of you had turned thirty, and though you weren’t the only person who had lost someone in Shibuya, you felt like the only one who was too weak to recover from it.

“Satoru.” Your voice broke. “I don’t know how to live without him.”

Gojo smiled. “You find a way.” Said so confidently, a man who’d been through it all before, and your heart shattered with sobs that came out uncontrollably, soaking Satoru’s shoulder.

Desperately, you clawed at his back, wishing you could wear his skin as a protective shield, could tear his heart out of his chest and trade it for your own, if only to gain an ounce of his strength. He held you tight in his arms, but nothing about him was the same, right down to the very blue eyes that had lost all their arrogance. Both had dimmed, and even the infinity within them seemed to end.

He didn’t smell like Kento, didn’t feel like Kento—but no one else had comforted you since he’d died, so you let him. Satoru kissed your forehead with an affection you’d already forgotten, reminding you to move on.

You never would.

736 notes · View notes

niki-phoria · 10 days

Note

Hello! It's one of my first times asking for something, so forgive me if it seems strange or if I spell something wrong! Feel free to ignore this too!

I was looking at your Jjk list and realized that our beautiful boy Yuuji doesn't have a story there yet, so I had an idea!

something like Itadori and Reader (gn or male) were in a fight together, and Sukuna ends up appering to deal with the whole situation, and as a result, he ends up hurting the reader on purpose to bother Yuuji, so he is left feeling very bad and guilty , so ends up “ignoring” reader, because he keep blaming himself

I only thought until this part (srry), I would like an ending with something cute and fluff ig? 👉👈 (i like angst with a happy ending)

WEREN'T WE THE STARS IN HEAVEN?

pairing: itadori yuuji x gn!reader (no pronouns used) genre: angst word count: 758

warnings: graphic descriptions of violence, mentions of blood, poorly written fight scene

notes: thank you so much !! i hope you like it :)) split this into two parts to make it easier to write lol, possibly ooc sukuna but i did my best, title from adrianne lenker - anything

part 02 here !!

shibuya is empty. desolate, even. eerily so. even after spending only a few months in tokyo, ITADORI YUUJI had grown accustomed to the noise. the bustling crowds and noisy tourists had become commonplace - almost a comfort at the end of a long night. if nothing else, at least the people were safe.

until they weren’t.

your lungs burn as you race through the remains of shibuya station. the walls are splattered with a mixture of blood and curse remains. there are no longer complaints from people about being trapped inside of the station. there are no longer stray groans from mahito’s transformed humans. there are no longer screams of terror.

you feel sick.

you force yourself to run faster when you see a figure standing in the distance, near what remains of the bathrooms. water seeps across the tiles from nearby, probably damaged in the midst of a fight. “yuuji!”

he doesn’t have a visible reaction. your footsteps slow to a stop as you take in the sight of him. his clothes are ripped and tattered but there are no visible injuries on his body. beneath the flickering lights above, you can just barely make out the blood stains littering his clothing.

“yuuji?”

he turns to face you, smirking over his shoulder. you take a step backwards, shoes slipping on a puddle of water on the floor. there’s a dark glint in his eyes - one that you’ve never seen before. “not anymore.”

“sukuna,” your breath hitches.

he frowns, mockingly pouting as he begins walking towards you. “that’s not how you should address your lord.”

anger flares in your chest. your hands curl into fists, nails digging into your palms. you grit your teeth, aiming towards sukuna’s jaw as you swing.

he evades it easily, languidly pushing his hands into his pockets. “i’m hurt, y/n,” he mocks. “i can’t believe you would hit your own boyfriend.”

“shut up!” another swing. another miss.

sukuna laughs. he watches you with amusement; like you’re an ant beneath his foot he’s pushing around just for the sake of his own entertainment.

he’s fast. almost faster than your own reflexes. your punches only ever meet air as he dances around you. “does it bother you?” sukuna asks. his breath ghosts against your ear as he leans in. “knowing that yuuji’s power comes from a curse. does it scare you?”

you swallow your insults, instead focusing your attention on aiming your punches at the right time. he frowns. “ignoring me now? that won’t do.”

sukuna raises his leg, swiftly landing a hit against your side. you’re barely given time to react before your body slams into the wall.

the pain comes hard and fast. it’s agonizing. it feels like you’re on fire. every part of your body begs you to give up; to lay down and crumble into a ball on the ground. but you can’t. you won’t.

blood pools in your mouth, dripping down the corners of your lips. debris surrounds you. you can feel pieces of rock and concrete digging into your hands as you push yourself up onto your hands and knees.

your attempts are quickly ripped away when sukuna kicks your side once again. you land on your back this time, staring up at the ceiling through blurry vision. your head aches.

“pathetic human.” sukuna smirks over you. the heel of his boot digs into your chest, pushing your body down further into the rubble. your eyes flutter shut. if you’re going to die, you’re not going to give sukuna ryomen the satisfaction of being the last thing you see.

the force of sukuna’s weight forces a weak cough out of your lungs. he raises his foot once again before he pauses, humming to himself. “i wonder what the brat would think of this.”

time seems to still as your consciousness begins to slip. you can feel yourself growing weaker. your breaths are shallower. it’s harder to get air into your lungs. your racing heartbeat has also slowed. it no longer pounds loudly in your ears. instead, a dull ringing has replaced the noise.

nothing feels real. yuuji is yelling your name. he’s on his knees; his face hovers over you.

yuuji looks different. the black marks across his skin have disappeared, leaving only pale skin behind. hands that have the power to snap bones and destroy buildings are gentle as they cup your cheeks. he wipes away blood and dust and tears.

“yuuji,” you whisper. at least, you try to. and then-

the world goes black.

shibuya is empty.

taglist (open! send an ask/dm to be added): @sunoooism @vamxpi @sad-darksoul @kamote-kuneho

if you liked this fic, please consider leaving a like, comment, feedback, or rebloging !! and if you want to support me, check out my jjk masterlist <33

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rae-writes · 10 months

Text

reality’s nightmare

om brothers x reader

wc : 4k (holy fuck, I did not mean to do this much-)

warnings : gore!! blood, broken bones, mangled body parts, heavy injury detail, talks of intestines/organs, there’s some fucked up imagery in this one y’all

synopsis : they say angels look beautiful when they fall, but no one talks about after they hit the ground

a/n : look, I love the scene where they’re standing before Diavolo, and it’s been mentioned that they were hurt— buuut what if we saw them bruised and broken and bleeding

…thud…

…TH-UD…

crACK-

CRACK—

C R A C K…

Bloodcurdling screams filled the house of Lamentation, instantly waking the other seven inhabitants. The screams turned into sobs as many pairs of feet slammed against the hard floor.

Rather unceremoniously, your door was nearly knocked off its hinges as each of your demons burst in the room, huddling around your bed; you were frantically kicking at the covers and hiding your face behind trembling arms.

“Mc!”

His hand reached out to caress your form gently, startling you and causing you to cry even harder as you reached out for him.

†

Lucifer holds your face in his palms like you’re made of glass, lithe fingers attempting to wipe your scalding tears in vain. He’s at a complete loss as he watches you shake like a leaf in his grasp; you were terrified, more than he’d ever seen in all his time of knowing you.

When the first born finally managed to catch your gaze, he could physically feel his heart stop. “Mc…”

Pale as a ghost and face soaked with tears, you stared at Lucifer as if you never thought you’d see him again after bidding goodnight just three hours ago. “L-Luci-”

The surrounding area was dark- eerie - though thankfully, you could clearly tell you were at the Colosseum. You took only a single step forward before something slammed into the ground with a sick crack, just a couple feet away.

Wings so black they blended into the dark atmosphere were bent wickedly, feathers astray and torn out while a few bones stuck in odd directions, having pierced straight through the flesh. Two gashes on the lowest part of its back oozed blood like a river, quickly forming a puddle underneath the body. The torso itself was turned in a position that was just wrong- no matter what being in the three realms it was.

With a hand over your mouth to try and ease the bile rising in your throat, you could feel the unnatural warmth of its blood washing over the soles of your bare feet. In an attempt to scurry backwards, you slipped, bracing your arms against the dirt before your face could be washed in it.

And only then, when you finally came within face-to-face proximity of him, did you realize who it was.

Lucifer stared back at you, brows furrowed in pain and lips- blood dribbling past- curled into a grimace.

You broke into a fresh round of sobs- the broken and hoarse kind that made your chest throb- and pulled your boyfriend closer. Your movement was so rushed and unexpected, Lucifer toppled over right on top of you.

His arms caught him, but he was essentially unable to push himself up as your hands had come around his back, fingertips pressing almost harshly into the skin where his wings would normally be. “My love?”

“Show me.”

“I’m afraid I don’t quite understand-”

“Show me your wings!” words desperate and eyes frantic, you were truly starting to make him panic, “Please…” your fingers grasped the shiny feathers hesitantly; you thought they’d break or tear— Lucifer could tell.

He was confused and worried and honestly, his hands were beginning to shakily ball up your cover as he listened to you whisper in relief about how ‘they’re not broken…’

“I’m alright, Mc, I promise. My wings are alright. You’re alright.” Just what did you dream of to make you like…this? To say something like that?

You kept one hand in the middle of his four wings and the other at the base of his back where the other pair have been long since ripped out. “Can we stay like this?”

“For as long as you need.”

†

Upon seeing your frightened state, Mammon was frantic himself, hands grasping at your waist to pull you against him instead of the wall, “It’s me, Mc! It’s me, baby, it’s me!” He lets your hands grip his forearms as tight as you need, not paying much attention to the pressure in favor of trying to keep eye contact.

“Mam..mon?” the disbelief you seemed to be in sent his heart clenching, especially when you ran your palms along his bare skin, moving up and up until you were under his sleeves, grasping at his shoulders, “Mammon!”

The pained yelp that echoed in the air made you jump, head whipping around to find the source through the darkness. Calling out in vain, your feet took you in a random direction before you tripped. With hands stretching out to feel around, you felt a trembling form that didn’t quite seem…right.

What looked like they could’ve been arms at some point in time were crushed, bleeding, mangled limbs. Almost every bone was on the outside, tearing through its skin like paper. Elbows inverted, wrists twisted forward and back, fingers snapped in every other direction. Even some of its fingernails were ripped or cracked. Shoulder blades so out of place, it was hard to tell what they were supposed to be. Collar bones not where they were meant to be— one was completely shattered and it showed through the skin. Almost the entire upper portion of the chest was barely recognizable.

His face was, though. His gorgeous face, head dripping with blood and staining the ends of his snowy hair, features pulled into a heart-wrenching grimace.

“Mammon…” your hands squeezed and prodded every part of his arms, starting at the shoulders you'd dug crescent moons into- not missing his collar bones that were peeking from his sleep shirt.

He watched you examine him, pulling you closer every time you choked back a sob. “‘S me, baby, whatsa matter? You’re making your pretty eyes all swollen…”

“Hold me— just hold me. Need t’feel your arms around me…”

Ignoring the mumbled ‘in one piece’, Mammon wrapped his arms around you tightly without another word. He’ll chase away…whatever it was that scared you. He won’t leave.

“I won’t leave. Promise. ‘M right here.”

†

Oh, Levi’s eyes began watering as soon as he heard your sobbing, bursting out into tears right alongside you when he finally saw your scared form. Lacking his usual shyness, his hands curl around yours and uncover your face like you’d normally do to him.

“Mc…m-my Henry…” he didn’t know what to do or say but he knew that the way you peered up at him- like you’d seen a ghost- makes him want to curl up and die.

From the moment you heard the first shrill cry, you knew undoubtedly that it was your Levi. Without questions, you scrambled to your feet and took off sprinting despite being unable to see much, shouting his name with urgency.

Stopping to catch your breath, you froze when fingers wrapped around your ankle, turning to look at what’d grabbed you. A scream left your throat at the sight.

Crushed legs were dragging against the dirt, oozing blood and being speared with what looked like every leg bone there was. The left leg was bent out of place at the hip with the knee inverted while the right foot was twisted completely backwards, femur snapped and sticking out of the thigh. Flesh had torn where the bones caught on the ground— wide gashes that were as long as your forearm. It was horrifying.

Even more horrifying when your sweet boyfriend had blood pouring out of his mouth as he sobbed, still dragging his mangled body along, begging for help.

Levi flinched when you began pushing him back, mouth opening to spew out apologies when they were cut short as he watched you settle between his legs, arms hooking under his thighs to pull them even tighter against you.

You nuzzled your head against one of his knees, “Don’t go anywhere, Leviathan…stay- stay with me, don’t leave.” Your fingers dug into his sweatpants absentmindedly.

Levi was completely floored with how much terror filled your voice and he found himself wrapping his tail around your midsection to try and assure you that, “I’m never leaving. Y-you can’t get r-rid of me, now!”

…just what happened to you exactly? And did he really want to find out, given how genuinely terrified it made you— the bravest person he knows. Levi didn’t know just yet, but he did know that he’d stay with you for as long as you wanted him to.

†

Satan clutches both your ankles softly to keep you from hurting yourself, kissing at your calves when you stop thrashing. He’d never seen you in such a state and if he hadn’t trained himself over the centuries, he would’ve gone into a rage to find out who or what did this to you.

“I’m here, darling, try to calm down now. Shhh, love, listen to my heartbeat- here.” The way you clutched at him like he’d disappear…

“Tannie?”

You could barely see three feet in front of your face, shown by the way you stumbled and tripped your way through the dark. A loud, horrifying sound reaches your ears at the same time a liquid splashes across your face. It’s warm- running down your face disgustingly, but the sight in front of you…

Something had been impaled on a spiked rock; the jagged tip was coated in a dark substance— the same substance that nearly formed an ocean underneath the figure. It was pouring from the giant hole now in their chest area and the position had the rest of their body curved backwards. Not wanting to talk about the similar dark shapes you saw strewed about- knowing very well they were probably organs and intestines- you grip its twitching fingers cautiously, following the stream of blood down, down, down…until it reaches its face. His face. Satan’s face. His eyes are popped wide, clearly numb to the severe pain he should’ve been feeling.

Choking back a scream, you cradle the back of his head, lifting it up so he can swallow better as he finally begins to thrash and scream. Begs to stop go unheard and you’re forced to listen to the vile sounds of his chest ripping and tearing and blood gushing, screaming yourself when it soaks the entire lower half of your body.

“Yeah, it’s Tannie.” He doesn’t mention the grip you have on his shirt, nor does he say anything about the way you push yourself harder against his left side.

You tap your finger along to the beat of his heart- the rhythm is strong and steady. Alive. “Satan…”

He watches you smooth your hand over his chest, “Yes, love?” Frowning, he wipes at the corner of your eyes, not wanting you to cry anymore.

You say nothing at first, instead choosing to curl up closer. There’s an edge to the air before you give a nearly inaudible, “Don’t leave.”

Satan relaxes, if only for your comfort. “Never.” He needs to know what caused you so much torment— for now, though, he will be with you for as long as you need.

†

Asmo chooses to scramble around gathering water, a warm washcloth, and spritzing a light soothing scent on his clothes before he’s clamoring in your bed. He gingerly wipes down your face, whispering about swollen eyes and how much salt is in tears; he’s just trying his best to divert your attention.

But you’re still hysterical, eyes unable to stop shedding tears even as he’s wiping them away. Your hands snake up his jaw, pressing down and smoothing across the skin until your breath stutters and you simply can’t let out audible cries anymore.

Running around in the dark wasn’t such a good idea, especially now that you’re sprawled on the ground with your head throbbing from how hard you hit it. The lumpy dirt is uncomfortably irritating, but before you can move, you hear shrill crying as something comes slamming into the ground a couple feet beside you.

Nearly inaudible whimpers left it as it just laid there, body and wings twitching sporadically. Slowly, with sick cracking sounds following, it’s head turned to the side- facing right at you. His jaw was hanging, knocked out of place, and visibly broken. Teeth were fractured or missing entirely, mouth ripped one one side and lips punctured with holes from his teeth...his tongue was hanging by only a couple of muscles, nearly severed from the force of the fall— he must’ve bit it as he was screaming. There was blood pouring onto the ground underneath him, coating what was left of his lower face and splashed into his eyes, all the way up to his forehead.

You couldn’t even scream as you watched Asmo’s body convulse with choked sounds, eyes refusing to close even as an acidic taste started to make its way up your throat before you were forced to lift your upper body and retch out the contents of your stomach.

Shakily, almost like you were scared he’d fall apart, you place a kiss to his cheekbone, trailing down his jaw until you reach the corner of his mouth. “Azzy..I love you.”

You were now officially scaring Asmo, but he kept his cool nonetheless. “I love you more, hun! How about we go take a relaxing bath before trying to sleep again? Sounds good, hm?”

Briefly, your fingers pressed down harder where you were caressing his jaw before letting up. “Mhm.” You wrapped your arms around his neck like a child, not wanting him to go too far. “Sleep with you.”

“Yeah, you can sleep with me. My sheets will be good for your skin!” While his words were chipper, there wasn’t a single trace of a smile on his face; why was this happening to you? What happened to you?…what did you see?

“I love you, Mc. You don’t have to worry about anything else.”

†

Even though he knows everyone is worried, Beel shoves to the front with the sole intention of protecting you. You’ve curled yourself into a ball, but he just lifts you into his arms and pulls you in close.

At the familiar warmth of your boyfriend, your eyes snap up to see his worried smile and the only thing you can manage to do is rest your forehead against his with a choked cry of his name.

Your knees were scraped and bleeding from all the times you’ve tripped in the dark, so you were walking slowly, inching forward until your foot came in contact with something soft. Crouching down, you squinted at the orange color and rubbed the soft tufts between your fingers before your eyes finally adjusted.

It was Beel. He was curled on his right side, peeks of bone showing from where he landed. His eyes were swimming with blood, upper face drenched with it from where it streamed out of his head- he’d cracked his skull straight across his forehead. His neck was bent in an odd direction- probably twisted before hitting the ground- and more blood bubbled out of his mouth the longer he thrashed his head and tried to speak.

When he reached a trembling hand out, you finally took notice of Belphie lying beside him; the sob that ripped from your throat was guttural when the younger started crying out in Beel’s stead.

“I’m here, Mc. It’s okay now, I won’t let anything happen to you.”

You didn’t have the heart or the bearings to tell him that you were afraid of something happening to him again, instead choosing to just bury your face in his neck and sob harder. The cries only increased in pitch when you felt him move, “Don’t go! Don’t leave me, stay, don’t leave me, please…”

He’d only shifted to scoot further back, but his heart was absolutely breaking at the state of you. “Always, Mc.” Laying down, he tucked you into his right side, frowning at the thought of something causing you this much anguish. “I’ll stay with you always…I might have to carry you with me to the kitchen later tonight, though…sorry.”

†

When he finally manages to shove everyone out of the way, Belphie caresses your cheeks, dipping his fingers into the flesh softly as he forces you to look at him. “Look at me. No, no, at me.”

Your brows are furrowed, breaths coming out quick and short, “Bel…” you cradled his face even softer than he was yours, “My Belphegor…”

The sharp pebbles and uneven ground irritated your palms and knees as you crawled, trying to make your way around in the dark with little injury. You staggered when your hand slipped in something warm, flailing before bumping into what the warmth was coming from. You’d slipped in blood.

It was a trembling, bleeding lump on the ground, curled into a half fetal position on its left side. The arm that it landed on was completely bent backwards at the shoulder, fingers twitching with the pain they must’ve been feeling. A few rib bones punctured the abdomen, causing a tearing sound when they moved too much. There’s a large crack on the left side of the skull, which is where most of the blood is pouring from; through the streaked blood, where he’d probably tried to rub it away, you could see Belphie’s face. Tears had washed the blood from his eyes into his mouth where he kept having to spit it out onto the dirt in order to keep crying out for help.

With a start, you easily recognized what- or who- he was clutching onto desperately to be Beel. The way they were curled around one another…your tears mixed with the blood pooling into the dirt, hands making their way through the disgusting mud puddle it created to grab at his injured hand.

“Your Belphegor, ‘m your belphie-” he dragged you in closer, tucking you securely against his left side, “Wanna tell your Bel what’s the matter? Nightmare?”

Pushing the nauseous feeling down- and the distinct feeling that you knew it wasn’t a nightmare, that it was real- you shook your head in denial. It was such a poor lie that you couldn’t help but wince into his shoulder, but he didn't say anything.

He just pulled you in tighter and tighter until your breaths were practically his. “Told you to sleep with me. Nothing stands a chance against the avatar of sloth in this department.” Belphie relaxed when his rambling made you laugh, “Not gonna let anything haunt you like this again.”

It was real, it was real, it was real. “Okay…I love you, Bel.”

Lucifer fell backwards out of the heavens; the first to fall and the first to hit the ground (he watched his brothers fall with him— heard the vile sounds of each one of them hitting hell's earth). Though various emotions clouded his mind, he still had the wit intact to try and maneuver himself before crashing, though that made it much worse. Half twisted before his landing, his torso remained twisted, ribs shattered and internal organs pierced with bone. His back, despite his best efforts, is what had the most contact with the ground- broken at every vertebrae. Feathery wings now black fluttered uselessly against his will, shocked with the pain of having been torched, torn, broken, and pierced by their own bones. Lucifer had always been the one that hid his pain best out of the six, so he grits his teeth and twists his torso back into place and gets up because he needs to get to his family.

In an attempt to reach out for his brother, Mammon fell through the clouds with his arms stretched out, eyes never straying from the view in front of him, not even when Lucifer’s body hit the ground and he knew he was about to be next. He caught himself, or tried to, instantly snapping his wrists and sending a domino effect throughout his arms; each bone and joint cracking, shooting sharp pains straight to his head. Even his shoulders had been knocked horrendously out of place, so the only way he managed to get upright was the frantic flapping of his wings. Broken, kneeling on shaking legs, the sight of his mutilated arms made his stomach churn and bile rise. The acidic feeling has him retching miserably, yet even so, he spits out as much of the taste as he can and stands, hellbent on finding his family even if his arms are useless.

With his throat closing up from panic at having the ground beneath him crumble and break, Levi falls through feet first, head lifted to watch the heavens grow farther and farther, arms scrambling in vain to grab at something. In this frantic state, he never saw the end of his fall coming- he only felt the white hot pain cracking through his lower limbs- heard his bones shattering and snapping apart. His hands are clutching at dirt, choke sobs wrecking through his frame because he can’t feel his legs anymore. His brain is only registering the throb of pierced skin, veins, and arteries. The drag against the ground makes the pain worse, but he can’t find it in his hysterical self to stop pulling his body along, arms shaking under the strain as he attempts to seek out one of his brothers for help.

Opposite of his…’creator’, Satan fell backwards amongst the clouds, head tilted towards the ground as it got closer and closer. His eyes closed in anticipation of the impact, expecting his skull to get crushed, but they quickly shot open at the gutting sensation in his abdomen. Blonde hair tickled the rocks beneath him, head still lolled backwards with no energy to lift it, making the blood dripping from his mouth stream into his eyes. He’d been impaled on a spiked boulder, sending a numbing tingle throughout his entire body; the only moving parts of him were the shocked blinking of his eyes, bobbing of his adam’s apple as he tried to swallow his own blood, and the occasional twitch of his fingertips. Once the numbness made its way to his throat, he began to panic, blindly moving his sluggish limbs in an attempt to get free. The struggle irritated his wound, making more and more blood gush until there was a whole ocean of it underneath him- at some point, he lost the ability to move at all, and the only thing he could do was let out curdling screams until someone found him.

Asmo fell in a daze, not really processing the situation until he saw ink black washing over his ivory wings. He suddenly screamed, hands rubbing over the shedding feathers like somehow he could stop them from blowing away with the wind. Watching all the feathers burned down into four smooth, leathery wings, he was completely hysterical as the reality of the situation sunk in. When he couldn’t bear to look at what he was becoming anymore, he cast his teary eyes in front of him, breath getting stolen from his throat when his jaw met the ground, shattering instantly upon impact. The rest of his body hurdled against the dirt and he just laid there, too shocked with pain to even really feel it. The tang of copper crawled up his throat, spilling out of his mouth, but the only thing he could do was let out choked whimpers, hoping someone could hear.

As his throat constricted until he could barely breathe, heart thumping sporadically after ‘letting’ his sister be shot, Beel fell clutching his twin against his chest. He promised he wouldn’t let go, but the momentum made him lose his grip anyway, sending Beel further into panic. He never got the chance to wonder about the end of their fall- he was too busy trying to reach his brother again- but he felt it. The shock of pain blooming where he landed on his right side, the feeling of organs being pierced by bone. He desperately wanted to lift his head to see if the other was still beside him, but his eyes were covered with blood from his cracked skull. He whimpers out his twin’s name, flinching when someone grabs his ankle before frantically reaching out with his left arm to grab onto Belphegor’s ankle— he wanted to shout out, but he couldn’t find the energy to speak. Instead he had to listen to Belphie cry out for someone to save them.

Belphie fell screaming, hands grasping onto his twin with frantic desperation after having watched his sister get shot with an arrow. The wind blowing past them was grating against his ears, further panicking him when his grip began slipping the faster gravity dragged them down. As soon as they broke apart, they were scrambling to reach each other again, and he didn’t notice the sight of the ground coming closer until they crashed into it. He fell on his left side, arm and leg getting crushed under the shocking weight, ribs cracking, and head knocking against the dirt so hard it made his vision blur and skull break open. In this position, he was facing Beelzebub’s feet, like they were Yin and Yang. He uses his right arm to reach out for his twin again, gripping onto his uninjured leg tightly, voice coming out cracked as he assured his brother it’d be okay before crying out for one of the others to please come save them.

#obey me x reader #om x reader #lucifer x reader #om lucifer #mammon x reader #om mammon #leviathan x reader #om levi #satan x reader #om satan #asmodeus x reader #asmo x reader #om asmodeus #beelzebub x reader #beel x reader #om beel #belphegor x reader #belphie x reader #om belphegor

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dawnoftime22 · 5 months

Text

moments to never forget.

| T.S

Warnings: None!

Summary: It's your birthday, and Taylor has many plans up her sleeve. She gives you surprises one after another simply in one day, and it becomes the most special birthday you've had yet.

Word Count: 2.9k

Category: Fluff! All fluff!!

A/N: GUESSSS WHO'S BIRTHDAY IT IS??? MINE!!! happy birthday to me :DD so take this as a birthday special <33 I really really hope you'll love this because its one of my most fav fic I've written so far <3

| Started on 01/12/2023, 5:53 PM |

| Finished on 01/12/2023, 11:13 PM |

Masterlist | T.S Masterlist

“Oh, all I'd ever do for you, and you only.”

|——————————— ⸆⸉ ———————————|

It was a peaceful day. You were sat on the couch in the living room with Taylor, knowing today is your birthday, but you never really did much on it, except get a cake really.

"You know, I have something to show you." She says naturally, but with a mysterious tone in her voice. You piqued up slightly in her embrace at the sentence, curiosity taking over your features.

"What is it?" You ask as she moves to get you off of her and stand up, wanting you to follow with her from her hands tugging on yours.

"You'll see." Her voice was cheeky, her eyes following her smile. You get dragged over to the bedroom, making you all the more curious.

She sits you down on the bed before going off to the closet, where all her clothes are located. She opens it, and you gasp.

Your mouth was open at the set of cardigans in her wardrobe that you knew weren't there before. They were beautiful, and the side of the arms had little stitched in stars in them. You close your mouth as you took in the scene before you. Was this real or a dream? You didn't even know. You were about to ask her to pinch you.

They only weren't there before because Taylor had some of them stored in another house, and she didn't have a piece of each and every one yet, surprisingly, until her team sent her ones she didn't have yet, completing her collection.

"Which one do you want?" She asks softly, her hands waving over to them as a gesture of 'voila'. Her eyebrows raised with a smile on her lips.

"Tay, I love them all, I can't just choose one." Your shoulders slumped with your words, your mind thinking Taylor was asking you to choose only one that you could wear or add to your own wardrobe. Technically you could just steal hers, but that wasn't in your flow of thoughts with the shock, and how your mind was currently focused on her question.

"Well, you can have them all, darling, but right now which one do you wanna wear?" Her sentence comes out with a small giggle that vibrates within her ribs and echoes out to your ears, and you were about to melt into a pool of puddle on the wooden floor with all the love you had for her.

"You choose," you say quietly, not able to make a decision. She hums, half expecting you to have said that, perhaps. The blonde turns her head to look at the closet, her fingers brushing against the soft fabrics of the cardigans, and her eyes were extremely focused.

"How about this one?" Taylor reaches her hand out to one of the hangers, grabbing one of the seven cardigans from her collection. She chose simply on whichever she thought you'd love most, and she never fails in doing so.

You grab the hanger as she gives it to you, your eyes shining at the sight. You delicately take off the cardigan and put your arms in the arm holes, wearing it. It smoothly goes over your shoulders and went off to your other arm as you fully had it on you.

Taylor smiles, her eyes looking over the sight of you wearing something of hers. Well, she has before, considering you stole her hoodies and clothes, but this was especially different. Her own merch.

"You look lovely," she whispers, her voice endearing as ever. A slight red tint appears on your face, and she tries her hardest to get a clear picture of it in her head to store away and remember for years later to come.

"It's warm. It feels like whenever you hug me." You move your arms as if to hug yourself slightly, the comfortable fabric making itself feel like home upon you.

"Well, I'm warmer, but I'm glad it's comfortable." You giggle at her sentence, but she wasn't wrong. Although she is warmer, the cardigan fits you perfectly, and it's soft against the skin of your arms.

She closes the closet doors and walks over to you, putting her arms out to hug you and sit on your lap. She places her arms around your body that was layered in a shirt and the cardigan.

"Are you warm enough?" She asks playfully as she puts her cheek against your shoulder, looking up at you adorably, her blonde hair spilling over your shoulder. You swore you were gonna die happily right then and there.

"You're basically gonna make me melt from all the warmth." You're lucky the room was cold enough for it all to be cozy, and oh so perfect of a temperature.

She giggles, and then gets off of you, standing up and taking your hand into hers, tugging you to follow along.

"Where are we going now?" You ask curiously, your arm pushing you up and your legs straightening to a standing position to follow her. Your hands were intertwined with each other like a perfect puzzle piece.

"Someplace you'll love." She says, grabbing her keys out her pocket and going to the living room, making her way to the front door.

Once she opens the door, the sun was greeting high above the clouds somewhere, but it wasn't awfully sunny. She closes and turns the key into the door behind you. The sky shows a nice and gentle weather, no gray clouds.

The car beeped in the distance to your left, making you turn your head towards it. Taylor tilts her head while she walks to the car, as if to signal you that she was done making sure the house was all safe and locked.

You trail behind her, watching her get in the driver seat to turn on the engine. You thought she'd stay there and close the door, but she goes over to the passenger side and opens yours for you.

A dopey smile was on your face, her small gestures of love being everything to you. You went ahead and walked by her to go sit in the seat. She checks that you're fully in the vehicle before she closes the door.

When Taylor got in and clicked her seatbelt on along with you, she settles her hands on the steering wheel, driving off to the main road and start the journey to your destination, wherever that may be.

You got comfortable, unknowing whether it'll be a short one, or a long one. Before doing so, you turn on the radio and adjust the volume so it'll be good background music. You smile when you hear your favorite song playing.

Her eyes went to watch you every now and then, your head nodding along to the music and some lyrics coming out your mouth. She was so in love with you and everything about you.

When it went on to being half an hour in the car, you had settled down in your seat, watching the trees pass by and looking at the view outside. It seems you were going up a few mountains, and you couldn't wait to see what she had planned.

Taylor was smiling adorably as she drove. The sun was setting already, the two of you having left the house in the evening, and it left an iridescent line on her face, the rearview mirror reflecting the sun.

This was a precious day and a precious moment. You stare at her, admiring her for a second before pulling out your phone, your teeth catching your lip as you took a picture of her.

She notices you in the corner of her eyes, and her smile grew wider with a soft look. "I saw that," she says, knowing you loved to take pictures of her before she sees. But you didn't just take it for that reason.

"There's a rainbow on your face." You point out, and she looks into the mirror, her eyes brightening at the many colors of light visiting her cheek down to her neck. It was as if you were to travel upon a rainbow and find a stash of gold, to which, she practically is one. But she's more valuable and special than a simple pot of gold. Oh, so much more.

"I guess it's true how they say I have a bit of magic running through me." She focuses back on the road ahead of her, joking about the fans to you. You shake your head with a small laugh, but almost agreeing with her and the people who's talked about it. Far too many coincidences with the plane matching her lyrics, and mother nature following her with strikes of lightning.

Soon enough, you arrive, and it was a place somewhere on the side of the road, but there was a small path that could be seen at an angle. You follow Taylor's lead when she got out and locked the car, the wind breezing gently through your hair as you moved.

The sun had gone down by now, and the sky was dark, but the pathway had small lamps lighting up the way. You wondered if that was Taylor's doing, or perhaps they had already been there and this was a spot some people visit.

But it was her doing. She found this place a while ago, and no one else had taken it thus far. It was hers, and your spot now. The grass was green, and there were beautiful trees with leaves flowing and smoothly falling down here and there.

Taylor eventually stops walking, and you see a small picnic set up below an apple tree. She smiles your way, and your lips reflected hers. You couldn't have found anyone better.

She goes to sit down on the fabric, beside her a basket with some food. You sit down with her, shuffling to sit in between her legs with your back against her front.

It was a place where not much light pollution covered the place. You stare up at the night sky. It glimmered with stars, brightly glowing along with the gibbious moon high up the sky. You could see venus and saturn somewhere.

The sight shined off to your eyes, and hers stared down to them, admiring the speechless but happy look on your face. You were staring at the stars, she was staring at you.

You had your hands resting in your own lap, and she went off to the basket to grab a container that has a a slice of cheesecake. One that was delicious, and one from your favorite shop.

There was a small birthday candle, and the blonde gently places it atop the cake, lighting it up with a lighter.

She grabs a fork, opening the lid and handing the fork to you. You didn't see it until she waved it slightly, making you look down. A small gasp makes it way out your mouth when you realize what was on the picnic blanket just beside you.

"Tay, you didn't have to do all this." You say, your voice barely above a whisper from the surprise of how much she's been doing for you just in one day. And she planned all of it by herself. You look at her over your shoulder, your eyes full of emotions.

"But I wanted to. And you deserve every inch of it," she says, so very softly. Her free hand reaches up to caress your cheek with her thumb gently. She then lays a light kiss on your lips, her eyes holding only care and her embrace only holding safety.

Your lips turned upwards, and you gently take the fork from her hand, going off to grab the cheese cake container.

"Make a wish." She whispers gently. You stay quiet for a second, before blowing out the candle. Her face has a smile as she watches you.

"You're not gonna tell me what you wished for are you?" Taylor asks as you dig your fork into the cake, taking a small size before putting it in your mouth.

"Nope. It won't come true if I do." But in honest truth, the wish was her. To be with her forever and always.

The cake melted in your mouth. It was sweet, but not awfully sweet. Just the right amount, as it always had been. Taylor watches your movement from behind as she held you.

You then take another piece, but you didn't put it in your mouth. Instead, you lean back slightly and turn, putting the piece of cheese cake in the air, just near her mouth.

Her eyes flickered down to it, then back to your face. She opens her mouth and eats it, humming with the delicious taste filling her mouth.

She grabs another fork from the basket, wanting to share with you. You let her by putting the plastic container beside the both of you once more, turning back around to rest against her and stare up at the sky.

As the cheese cake was being finished, and the crickets made sound somewhere in the trees, she had thoughts floating in her mind, her eyes wandering over to you every now and then rather than the cake, or the sky.

"Okay, I have one last thing for you today." She spoke up softly, and you look at her, curiosity filling you as you wondered what else she could possibly have in store.

"What is it?" You ask, eager at this point from the sleepiness that might be coming onto you, and how she's been going at you with surprises left and right today. But it is a special day, after all.

"Can't tell you yet. Close your eyes first." She whispered near your ear as if to give off a mysterious tone.

"It better not be a snake like last time." You said as you closed your eyes and raised a brow. She had her mouth open in an act of getting offended even though you couldn't see.

"No! It's your birthday, silly. Of course I'm not gonna scare you." You can hear her smile in her voice, and some movement somewhere near you. She looks at you closely, making sure you had your eyes fully closed.

You then feel one of your arms being tugged up slightly to be put in the air at the same height as your chest, your palm facing upwards. A what felt like a box, with a soft exterior was then placed on your hand.

"Okay, you can open your eyes," she says, and the both of you were filled with anticipation. Hers, of your reaction, and you, of what you're gonna see when you open your eyes. When you did, it was a beautiful black box in your hand with a shiny metal latch.

"You better not have gotten me something far too expensive." Your eyes went off to hers, and she has a smile growing on her face once more.

"Just a reasonable price for something special," was all that she replied with, and you couldn't really say anything much to that, and so, your hand goes off to get the latch and open the lid, revealing a metal necklace that has a heart in the shape of how she draws it, and her initials on the sides of the heart. There are also small charms at the side of your favorite albums of her, not far off from the center of the necklace.

"Taylor. You did not." Your voice was in pure shock, knowing this was definitely custom-made. You had talked before about a necklace that should have certain charms that you would love to see together. But there wasn't one that really existed like that specifically, so you never thought of ever getting it. But she managed to get one specifically for you, and only one exists in the world.

"Yes, I did." She looked down at you, seeing how your hands very gently touched the chain and charms on it, loving that you were awestruck, and also absolutely in love with her.

"Happy birthday, baby." She kisses your cheek softly, hugging you and squeezing slightly from behind. Even a squirrel perhaps that isn't yet sleeping, is looking at the two of you from above a nearby tree, seeing the love you held dear.

"Thank you, Tay." You whisper, your free hand that wasn't holding the box going off to take her hand that was around your stomach in yours, giving it a gentle squeeze as she did with your body earlier.

"Help me put it on?" You ask, looking at her. She was looking at you with a soft gaze, like a fawn looking at someone.

"Of course," she replies, taking ahold of the necklace with a gentle grip to not let it fall, and clasping it around your neck, checking it was on properly.

"You look gorgeous," she says, her voice filled with honesty. Her eyes were all focused on you and the necklace on your neck.

"Do you like it?" She asks as if with hope for you to love it, but she already knew the answer to come, she just wanted to hear it coming from your own mouth than her head.

"I love it!!" Taylor adored the pure joy on your face, every second with you making her love you even more somehow, if possible.

The rest of the night was spent with adoration and love, and you sleeping in the car on the ride back home, with her staring at you at some red lights.

It's a whole day of memories to remember, and you aren't ever gonna forget it.

---------------

taglist <3 - join here! :]

@dmenby3100 @wandsmxmff @simp-erformarvelwomen

#🥀 dawn’s collection #taylor swift #taylor swift x reader #taylor swift fluff #taylor swift imagine #taylor swift comfort #soft taylor swift

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fazedlight · 3 months

Text

Dread (rewriting of Lena’s phantom ordeal in Fear Knot)

Coolant leak error?, Lena thought, reading the screen. “Let me see if the hardware needs repairing,” she said, unfastening her seatbelt and passing Nia to hop onto the elevator.

Her first hint that something was wrong was on the floor of the machine room. As she stepped over a puddle, her mind caught on something. The floor was wet - not with neon green coolant, but water, in a part of the ship where no water piping ran.

She stepped towards one of the wheels on the wall, checking that the flow was open, that the gauge showed appropriate pressure. There’s no leak, Lena thought, confused. Then what’s causing the-

“Why did you let me drown, Lena?”

Lena spun around, eyes darting to the familiar voice, lost over decades. A pale dead figure, covered in water and kelp, stared back at her - with cold, soulless eyes that sunk back into her skull. “Mother?” Lena said, trembling.

“Why did you let me drown, Lena?”

“I-” Lena was struggling to breathe, as her mother stepped closer, a heavy sloshing of her dress running across the ground. “I- I don’t know why-”

“Why did you let me drown, Lena?”

“I’m sorry,” Lena said, a small part of her mind screaming this isn’t real, but dread flooded the thought out. “I didn’t want- I just couldn’t move-”

But to Lena’s horror, her mother shifted - a translucent creature emerging from a dead woman's body, made of water and shimmers of light. A creature, Lena thought, her eyes wide. An alien creature of some sort.

She ran.

She darted around the being as its rumbling snarl reverberated through the walls. Lena yanked the door open, bolting down the hall, trying to shake off the unexpected grief of seeing her mother again. A kelpie? A shapeshifter of some sort, her mind thought, racing towards the mainroom. “I need help,” Lena yelled into the comms, yanking a second door open, “I need-”

No, Lena’s mind screamed, coming across the surreal scene before her. Please, no…

Brainy. Alex. J’onn. Kelly. All lay dead before her.

Lena halted as horror flooded through her, turning to Nia’s body, which glimmered in silver. “Nia?” Lena whispered, watching as a million sparks seemed to dance along her skin, from her spot slumped over on the control panel. Lena’s eyes widened. Those aren’t-

A cloud of silver withdrew from Nia’s body, flowing to the center of the control room, buzzing and humming in a familiar pattern, as a voice emerged. “Why did you kill me, Lena?”

“Jack?” Lena gasped.

The bots began to take shape in front of her, a man’s familiar face forming, cast in metal rather than human flesh. “Why did you kill me?”

“Jack, I- I didn’t-” Lena said, overwhelming nausea climbing up her throat. “I didn’t want- there was no other choice-”

“Why did you kill me, Lena?”

The kelpie, Lena’s mind screamed. The shapeshifter. It’s not him. He’s not real-

“Come with me, Lena,” Jack said, as his body began to decompose again, the swarm beginning to float in her direction.

No! Lena’s mind screamed, as she turned again on her heel, fleeing towards the backrooms of the ship. Everyone’s dead, everyone’s dead-

Is this how it ends?, she thought as she ran, knowing she could never outrun the nanobots, or the kelpie, or whatever the fuck this creature was. We all die. Kara is lost forever. This can’t be happening-

She found herself ducking into the medbay, scouring the room for anything she could use as a weapon, anything she could use to kill the creature. Kelpies are a myth, she thought to herself, but that brought her little comfort. Shapeshifters were quite real, and this one was going through each member of the ship.

Lena closed her eyes, trying - and failing - to get composure. It’s my fault, she thought, her mind flashing memories of her mother in the lake, of Jack’s begging voice. Did they blame me? Were they angry? Were their last thoughts-

“Why did you let me get sent to the Phantom Zone, Lena?”

Chills ran down Lena’s spine, as the familiar blonde’s voice washed over her. Kara, she thought, feeling her heart hammering through her chest. I can’t save you, I can’t save you… “I’m so sorry,” Lena sobbed.

“You want me in the Phantom Zone.”

“I don’t!” Lena shouted, turning to the blonde before her. Pallid and soulless eyes stared back at her - somehow indifferent, yet menacing. Lena shook, holding back tears. But I’ll never be able to rescue you, not with everyone…

“You hate me,” said the super as she approached, black veins growing on her face. “You despise me.”

“I love you, Kara,” Lena whispered. The creature was going to kill her. She would never be able to say the words to the real Kara. But there was nothing left.

Kara stepped closer to her, again, and again. Lena held back her sobs as Kara’s eyes turned red. This is how it ends, she thought. I’m never going to see you again. Her worst nightmare had become her reality.

Nightmare…

Lena’s brow furrowed as Kara stepped closer. I didn’t kill my mother, she thought to herself, looking up at the kryptonian again. There wasn’t a way for me to save Jack, she thought to herself.

Kara finally reached Lena, standing toe to toe as her eyes continued to burn. You’re a phantom, Lena realized. Praying on my fears… What had J’onn said? One’s deepest dread.

Like fearing that your loved ones were lost.

And that it was your fault.

Kelly said to focus on what’s real, Lena thought to herself. Things I can see, touch, hear… Lena’s mind scraped at the motor oil scent around her, wandering to the Tower itself, to the cool air and martian steel that surrounded her as Kara sneered back.

But Lena shrugged it off as she continued to stare at the angry super, looking into the still-burning eyes. Lena knew what was most real.

“I love you,” Lena said, raising her hand to doppelganger, caressing along her jawline. “I love you, and I’m going to get you back.”

Kara’s eyes dimmed, and the world flashed white.

-----------

Lena gasped as her eyes opened, finding herself back in the control room. Shifting in her seat, her eyes darted around the room, feeling a flood of relief as she saw the others do the same. “This is real,” J’onn shouted to the room. “You are free of the phantom's powers!” Lena wanted to cry in relief.

“Well that sucked,” Nia said, a shaky smile thrown in Lena’s direction. “What did you see?”

Lena turned back to her controls. It’s time to bring Kara home. “A kelpie,” she said quietly, her mind drifting to the final preparation needed for the sun bomb. “I’m afraid of drowning.”

#supercorp #mel writes ficlets

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little-buzz · 2 months

Text

An Unfair Misdemeanor

This is my first attempt at a tickle fic. I don't consider myself part of the community, but I just think it's cute! Please let me know your thoughts on this drabble <3

Hazbin Hotel x Reader (platonic)

You watched with amusement as Charlie ran her fingers down Vaggie’s sides gleefully. Vaggie laughed helplessly on the ground, squirming under her girlfriend’s hold.

Nifty and Pentious watched the two on the couch, enjoying the moment just as much as you were. Husk quietly cleaned a wine glass behind the bar, but you saw the small smile on his lips.

You leaned against the wall of the foyer and whipped your phone from your pocket. You recorded the tickle attack and lowered your phone inconspicuously. You grinned to yourself before a shadow appeared behind you.

“That’s rather rude of you to record those two without their consent…”

Before you could blink, a pink gloved hand plucked your phone from your hands. You made a step forward and prepared to flee the scene, but you weren’t quick enough. Angel Dust squeezed your waist before you sunk to the floor like a puddle.

He smiled smugly and used his other two arms and pinned your hands above your head. You kicked your feet and laughed nervously.

“I didn’t do anything! This isn’t fair,” you cried.

Angel clicked his mouth disapprovingly.

“You should’ve thought this out before you recorded the girls, probably for blackmail,” hummed the demon. You couldn’t get a word out before Angel skittered his hands against your sides. You squealed and wiggled under his hold, but you didn’t put up much of a fight.

You hadn’t realized the others were now gazing with interest. Charlie stopped tickling Vaggie all together, intently watching Angel and you. Vaggie took a seat on the couch, staring at you as if you were a zoo animal.

“Get their ass, Angel! The little asshole shouldn’t have recorded us,” commented Vaggie.

Your back arched as Angel moved to your arms instead of your middle. Your head sunk to your shoulders as you wiggled desperately. You turned your head and wildly looked at Charlie.

“Chahaharhlie, hehehehelp!”

She shrugged with an unapologetic smile on her face. “Sorry, but you got yourself into this mess,” said Charlie.

Angel slowly pulled back from you to let you breathe. You curled your legs into your chest, feeling air enter your lungs again. Giggles left your lips as you caught your breath. You slowly regained your senses and raised your upper body.

“That was uncalled for…” you sighed.

Angel stood above you, with his arms on his hips. “Sweetheart, you were practically askin’ for it.”

You rolled your eyes and slowly peeled yourself off the carpet. He returned your phone once you got on your feet. You darkly frowned at him.

“That was just cruel…” you murmured.

Angel’s eyes flickered with mischief. “Are you askin’ for a round two?’

Dread developed in your chest from his words. “No, thank you!”

You quickly retreated to your bedroom for safety. As you left, you heard Angel and the rest of the patrons’ laughter echo off the walls.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel drabble #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel x you #charlie morningstar #hazbin charlie #angel dust #vaggie #hazbin vaggie #hazbin angel dust #writers on tumblr #writeblr #hazbin hotel platonic #hazbin hotel x reader platonic #lexwrites #queue #live laugh queue

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cmncisspnandmore · 4 months

Text

Coming home to you: Captain John Price X Reader

Pairing: Captain John Price X Wife reader

Warnings: Slight OOC John (? maybe??), mentions of dead child, mentions of death, typical COD violence. Sad john.

A/N: This is probably going to either be a mini series, or maybe even a whole series. Im not entirely sure yet, but I cant get Farmer!John Price out of my head. So here it is. This first part kinda gives you a look into what I feel like can happen when missions are tough and John is able to come home to someone he trusts completely, what happens behind the scenes.

Word Count: 2412, On the shorter side, mainly setting the scene. next part will be longer.

You toe off your mud caked boots as you pull your hood off. Droplets of rain fall to the dark hardwood floors. Leaving a small puddle on the floor, a deep sigh leaves your lips as you look down at the mud tracks. You had just washed that this morning, which you wouldn't have done if you had watched the weather and knew that you were going to be getting rain and Gale force winds this afternoon.

But while John was gone, you couldn't bring yourself to watch the News. There was always this dreadful turning in your gut when we tried to watch the News when he was on deployment. The kind of anxiety you feel when someone says they need to talk to you. You remember the first time you watched the News after you and John started dating, he was away on deployment. You had sat down on your small couch in your too small flat, curled up with a cup of coffee, and watched the morning News like always. It wasn't until they announced that a Military Helicopter had been shot out of the sky that you started to panic.

You called John 8 times that morning, begging him to pick up the phone, to tell you he wasn't on the helicopter. But he didn't answer once, it wasn't late that night that he finally called you back. Apologizing profusely for not being able to call you sooner, he spent almost 2 hours on the phone with you that night. Shushing you as you sobbed, telling him how you thought he was dead all day. John was patient with you, he explained it wasn't his helicopter that he and his team were safe. He told you how he couldn't receive cell phone reception until they got back to the base they were working out of, and how he was so sorry you went through that.

From that moment on you promised to never watch the news while he was gone, you would wait for someone to tell you personally that something had happened. Because you never wanted to feel that way again. So now during John's deployments, no matter how long, the Tv in the living room remained off.

“Pretty wet out there huh?” A deep voice rumbles, John's shadowy figure leaning against the wall, his boonie hat pulled down shielding his eyes in the dim lighting of the kitchen.

“Bloody Hell!” you gasp, your hand flying up to your chest. Your eyes wide as you look up from your wet shoes. “You scared the hell outta me!” You scold, desperately trying to keep your smile at bay.

John pushes off the wall, his blue eyes trailing up your body as he takes in your wet clothes and hair. “Just now, I didn't mean to scare ya, Sweetheart,” he smiles as he stands in front of you. His tight fitted gray shirt stretched across his broad chest, as he reached forward, pulling you into his arms. You instinctively wrap your arms around him, pressing your face into the center of his chest.

“I missed you so much…” You mumble into the soft fabric, the scent of tobacco and his cologne flooding your senses. The nagging voice that constantly whispered all the terrible things that could happen while John was away finally quieting, as you held onto him.

“I missed you too,” he murmurs into your hair. “I’m sorry I was gone so long… Things didn’t go as planned…” he clears his throat, as he pulls you a little tighter.

You pull back slightly so you can look at his face, in the dim lighting of the kitchen you can see how tired he is. Deep purple bags under his bright blue eyes, his skin a little paler, his usually well kept beard is longer and in need of a trim. “Is everyone okay? Did.. Did they all make it home?” You whisper, one hand coming up to rest along his cheek, your fingers smoothing down some of his facial hair, trying to tame the too long strands.

“They all made it home Baby, Soap is a little worse for wear but he’ll be okay..” he leans down pressing a kiss to your forehead. You were always so worried about the members of his team, although they were around your age you were more like a Mother Hen to them. Always fussing over them when you got to see them, even Simon allowed you to fiss over him. Price thought it was funny to see the hulking 6 '4 man follow your orders, you had even convinced him a few times to let you tend to a wound under his mask. He had of course only agreed as long as you did it in a private room so no one outside of the team could see his face.

“How were things around here?” Price asks after a moment, pulling you back into him, tucking your head under his chin.

“It went well for the most part. Although I think something fell on one of the fences in the big back pasture on the edge of the property. I had put the sheep out there a few days ago and Mr. Watson showed up a few hours later with Michelle, his little herding dog and a few of our sheep. He said he found them standing outside his fences by his sheep.”

“Well. first thing in the morning we’ll go out and check the fence line, i’m sure this storm is probably going to do some damage,” He mumbles, as the wind howls against the old farm house. The glass panes on the windows rattle as the wind whips around. Leaves and rain swirling across the ground as it pours down.

After a few moments of listening to the rain and wind, you pull away from John. Reluctantly stepping out of his warm embrace, you pull your wet jumper off, leaving you in nothing but a thin t-shirt. The ends of your hair leave small water droplets on the thin fabric. “I didn't make anything for dinner..” you mutter as you glance around the kitchen, trying to mentally take inventory of what you can throw together for him.

“Don't worry about it, Sweetheart, I’m honestly not that hungry,” John says softly, as he takes his boonie hat off. He tosses it onto the table and runs a hand through his hair, it's slightly longer than the last time you saw him. A little on the wild side much like his beard.

“Are you sure?” You ask, brows furrowing. He was thinner than the last time you saw him, of course he was still a force to be reckoned with. To most people they wouldn't be able to tell that he had probably spent the last few weeks in the field, surviving off MRE’s, but you could. You knew John's body better than anyone. You had a habit of studying him while he was home, constantly trying to burn the memory of him into your brain, in case he didn't come home.

“I’m just exhausted, Sweetheart, I was kind of hoping we could head to bed early.. I just.. I just want to hold you,” he scrubs a hand across his beard, blue eyes burning into you. There was something he wasn't telling you about his last mission, but you knew not to pry. He would tell you when he was ready, and if what he needed right now was to hold you then that's what you would give him. Without a moment of hesitation you lock the back door and grab his hand, pulling him towards the stairs.

Even in the dark you could navigate the house with ease, you knew this house better than anyone. Maybe even better than John, with the sheer amount of time you spent cleaning and taking care of the old house while he was away. You did everything in your power to make the house as warm and inviting as possible for when he came back. As you reach the top of the stairs John's hands wrap around your waist. The warmth of his fingers seeping through the fabric of your shirt. He gently guides you towards your room, the door open revealing the spacious bedroom.

It was bigger than the other 2 bedrooms on the second floor, but it was still cozy. The four post bed against the back wall, the bay window on the left that was adorned with soft pillows and fuzzy blankets. A few stacks of books left on the floor, from the last time you sat there and read. The fireplace was stocked with wood and newspaper all ready to be lit. The glass doors open slightly to allow easy access for whoever was to light it. The soft gray duvet laid on the bed, slightly rumpled from where your elderly cat had napped on it during the day. The grumpy old barn cat had decided a few years ago he was going to be an indoor cat.

He had run in one morning and refused to go back out, so now during the day when the sun was out you would often find him lounging on your bed. Basking in the sunlight, until someone came into the room. When night time came around he was often sleeping downstairs on his lavish cat tower you had ordered for him. Soaking up the warmth from the fireplace you usually had lit.

As you walk into the bedroom John quickly releases your waist, crouching down next to the fireplace where he lights the newspaper. After a moment the wood catches and he closes the glass doors, the fire light flickering across his face as he stares into the flames.

“John?” You whisper, coming to stand behind the tall man. Your arms wrap around his waist as you lay your cheek in the space between his shoulder blades.

“Hmm?” John hums quietly, his hands coming to rest over yours.

“I know.. I know you don't like to talk about it..” you pause a moment, “but if you do want to talk about it.. I’m here.”

“I know.. Im..” John fumbles over his words, “I..” his voice cracks.

Your heart breaks as his voice breaks, his shoulders pulling tight as he struggles to contain his emotions. This massive mountain of a man was hurting, and there wasn't anything you could do to help. Your arms tighten around his waist as his breathing grows ragged, his large shoulders shaking slightly as he cries. You don't move, your head resting against his shaking form as you hold him. “Shh… it’s okay… it’s okay…” You whisper, as your own eyes burn with tears.

John has always been calm, cool and collected on the outside. That's what made him a great leader. He was able to compartmentalize in the worst situations. He would never let the members of his team or even his enemies know that something had bothered him. He was ruthless on missions, and straight to the point. He was every bit the hardened soldier he needed to be on the battlefield.

But at home, where he didn't have to be the grumpy superior of his team, he was softer around the edges. He was a man who cared deeply for those close to him. He wasn't a stone wall of impasse, it was here tucked away in the quiet of the countryside that he allowed his walls to come down. He allowed himself to feel the things he locked away while deployed. It was in the soft light of the fire that he showed you the parts of him that enemies would use against him.

John Price was just as much a human as anyone else.

You wanted nothing more than to be able to erase the horrors that plagued him. To chase away all the horrible things he witnessed in the field.t. You stand there for a long while, continuing to whisper soft reassurances to him, your hands pressed flat against his chest as he struggles to pull air into his lungs between sobs. It takes him several minutes to be able to calm down enough to speak again.

“There was a woman… She.. got caught in the crossfire.. She was killed.. Her 6 year old daughter watched. We tried to help her but the girl was just too far gone after everything that happened, when we went back to the small village to look for anything that could give us a clue to where the man we are after went.. I found her.. She was just hanging there…” His voice cracks. “ A 6 year old little girl hung herself after watching her mother die.. And I just keep seeing her hanging there.. So small and lifeless..” He whispers, his voice hoarse as he relives the horrors of finding her.

There's nothing you can say to make him feel better about what happened. There were no magic words that could take it away. There was no way of bringing the little girl back or making the scene erase from his memory. So you just guided him to the bed, having him sit on the edge. Gently pushing his shoulder so he laid on the soft fabric duvet. You climbed over him, curling up into his side, your head resting on his chest as you laid there. Allowing him to hold you against him. His arms wrapped around you, pressing the entire length of your much smaller body against him. The warmth from your body grounding him. John closed his eyes, focusing on the feel of you in his arms.

“I’m sorry, I try not to bring this stuff home.. But I just couldn't stop thinking that maybe I was faster.. If I had gotten there just a moment earlier I could've saved her mom.. And in turn saved her. But I wasn't there in time. I wasn't able to help her..” He whispers.

“It's not your fault.. You didn't pull the trigger, you didn't know she would take her own life.. She was 6.. Not many 6 year olds would do that.. But the kids in those places. In the face of constant war and death… they’re sometimes already too far gone. It's not your fault.” You whisper, pressing a kiss to his chest.

“I know.. I just need some time.”

“Take all the time you need, okay? I’m not going anywhere.”

Next: Part 2

Taglist: @a-small-writer-in-a-big-world

#call of duty modern warfare 3 #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare 2 #call of duty #captain john price #john price #captain price #john price x reader #john x reader #price x reader #Captain price x reader #call of duty x reader #Farmer!Price X reader #Farmer!Price

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lunaflowers · 8 months

Text

love scene

pairing: byun baekhyun x reader word count: 1.7k genre: fluff, smut warnings: piv, doggy style, impreg kink, slightly dom!baekhyun, lots of sweetness and fluff synopsis: your husband byun baekhyun always has sweet surprises for you

author’s note: this fic is based on the songs un village and love scene by byun baekhyun

You stepped off the bus at the stop that was right in front of your apartment. As it was a rainy night, you opened up your pale pink umbrella to protect yourself from the downpour. The streets were mostly dark and empty, with the streetlights illuminating glistening puddles. Usually you loved the rain, but you were officially tired of it. It had been raining for almost two weeks straight and you missed being able to get home dry.

As you crossed the street, you looked up at the building you lived in and the window of your apartment. He was standing there in the window looking at you like you knew he would be. Baekhyun always made sure to watch you getting off the bus if he was home first. He knew the schedule and was always waiting there for you to make your appearance. He said it was because he couldn’t wait to see you, even a few more minutes.

You looked up at him and waved, although you knew he could barely see you doing so under the umbrella that he had bought for you. You expected him to wait until you got to the apartment entrance, but you saw him turn around and walk away from the window. That was odd. You shrugged it off and made your way to the sliding entrance door to your building when you saw your husband standing right inside wearing a raincoat, a grin on his handsome face. He opened the door and came outside before you could go in and he grabbed your hand, pulling the two of you away from the building.

“Baby, I have something to show you,” Baekhyun said sweetly, giving you a kiss on the lips. “I missed you, by the way.”

“I missed you too, Baek, but what is it? I’m tired and cold and wet. I just want to get inside and take a warm shower.”

“You’ll see when we get there,” he replied, smirking a little. You really couldn’t ever say no to that face, as exhausted as you were. The two of you were huddled under the umbrella now, still holding hands. He insisted on holding the umbrella too, which you had no qualms with.

“Is it far?”

“No, we’re almost there. Trust me, Y/N, you’ll like it.”

The two of you walked in comfortable silence for a few more minutes before finally arriving at a small hill. Baekhyun led you up to the top of it, and pointed up at the night sky, moving the umbrella slightly. “It’s a supermoon.”

You looked up from under the umbrella at the full moon above you, looking larger than you’d ever seen it. It was a breathtaking sight, glowing like a pearl in the sky.

“Wow, it’s so pretty. I’ve never seen the moon look so big before,” you said, taking it in.

“I thought it would be nice for us to look at it together alone like this. I knew no one would be around because of the rain.”

“I love it,” you replied, giving your husband a kiss on the lips. He was always so sweet and thoughtful and romantic, and you knew how lucky you were that he thought of things like this. The two of you sat down on a nearby bench. Thankfully your raincoats were long enough that you didn’t need to worry about the seat of your clothes getting wet. You and Baekhyun sat together looking at the moon and chatting. Your husband was cracking his usual jokes and making you giggle as he always did.

The two of you sitting together under the moonlight alone was the perfect end to a stressful week at work. You leaned your head on his shoulder and sighed, closing your eyes and savoring the moment. He put his arm around your shoulders.

“What are you thinking?”

“I just hope we can always be like this. That we can have sweet moments like this. And that our relationship doesn’t devolve into us taking each other for granted and getting bored and annoyed with each other.”

Baekhyun smiled to himself and squeezed your hand gently. “I’ll try my best to make sure that that never happens.” You smiled, knowing that that was the best he could give you.

“Let’s go home,” he said, giving you a slight nudge.

The pair of you stood up and began the short walk home, hand in hand. It was raining less now, but still enough that you had to keep the umbrella up. You could feel your want for each other becoming stronger and stronger. You couldn’t wait to get home so that you could devour each other. All you could think about was when you were going to be able to get into your apartment so that you could finally be with him truly alone.

As soon as Baekhyun closed the door to your apartment, he pushed you against it and kissed you deeply, his wet hands in your hair. You grabbed him by the lapel of his coat and pulled him into you, wanting to absorb him completely. He began pulling at your clothes while still attached to your mouth, pulling up your skirt so that it was now bunching around your waist. He pulled your panties down and you stepped out of them, kicking them aside.

“Are you really going to fuck me against the door? What if someone’s in the hallway?”

“Let them hear,” Baekhyun replied dismissively, his lust for you too palpable to manage. “Turn around.”

You did so, putting your hands on the door and pushing your ass out. You heard Baekhyun unzip his pants and push his hard cock into you. You were already wet and ready for him and you moaned as he thrust himself all the way in.

“Baekhyun…” you breathed, arching your back. He began fucking you quickly, as though he’d wanted you forever and couldn’t hold himself back.

“You’re so fucking pretty. Were you always so pretty or is it just for me?” he said, putting his hand in your hair while the other one was pressed against the door. He was hungry for you, starved, his ravenous lips attaching themselves to your damp neck, sucking and biting, his teeth grazing your skin just enough to leave goosebumps all over your body.

“Don’t leave any marks,” you managed to say, even though your head was spinning with desire. He just felt so good inside you and you moaned out as he moved his hand over your body and onto your breast, squeezing it in annoyance.

“Why not?” He was irritated, slowing down a little, but you knew he’d never go against your wishes.

“I suck at covering up hickies,” you reminded him. “And I can’t go to work like that. You know this.”

He grumbled but didn’t argue. The two of you remembered the last time Baekhyun had covered your neck in hickies and the way you had desperately tried and failed to conceal them with makeup the next morning and instead ended up wearing scarves and turtlenecks to work for the subsequent two weeks in the middle of the a heatwave.

Baekhyun grabbed your hips and pushed into you even harder and deeper. You could feel his cock so so close to hitting your cervix.

“Fuck Baekhyun,” you moaned, “It feels good.”

“Yeah?” He said, building up a rhythm again. “I bet it fucking does.” He was thrusting in and out of you, his hips finding a perfect tempo to match yours. The moans escaping your mouth were getting louder and louder and you knew that if someone was standing in the hallway, they would definitely be able to hear you. “God I’ve wanted you so bad. I’ve been thinking about fucking you all day.”

“Me too. I’ve been at work so desperate for your cock. I’ve been making mistakes because I can barely think of anything else.”

That seemed to excite Baekhyun as he sped up his pace. “Yeah? Good. I like you like that. Being my desperate little cock slut.”

“You’re gonna make me cum, Baek,” you said, letting out another moan. You were close, your body filling up with that familiar heat that it always did when you were on the edge.

“Fuck… Me too,” Baekhyun let out a low growl, “I’m so close to cumming inside this pussy… And getting you pregnant.”

You paused for a second, surprised by his words. Baekhyun had never said anything even remotely close to that before. It wasn’t his usual flavor of dirty talk but you certainly didn’t dislike it. You had an IUD implanted so you weren’t scared of actually getting pregnant but the thought of it was thrilling.

“Yes, Baekhyunnie, fill me up, please. I want it.”

“You want it? You want my baby? You want me to fuck this pussy full of my cum?” He said, his breath hot on your neck. “I’ll fill you up so much that you’ll get pregnant for sure.”

“Please, yes… Yes…” you could feel yourself tipping over the edge and plunging into your orgasm, going weak in the knees as Baekhyun continued pounding your cunt. He gripped your hips hard enough that you were sure there would be finger marks there in the morning and he released himself deep inside of you.

The two of you collapsed onto the floor in a messy pile of limbs intertwined in each other. You giggled as you nuzzled into Baekhyun’s neck.

“So that was new. You have something you wanna share with me?”

Baekhyun shrugged and smiled that mischievous smile that you knew so well. He wrapped his arm around you tighter, placing a kiss on your forehead. “It’s just something I think about sometimes.”

“Having a baby?”

“Yeah. What do you think about that? We’re married. Why not?” Baekhyun asked, the earnestness in his tone endearing him to you even more, if that was even possible.

“Hmm,” you said. You couldn’t help but tease him a little.

“Come on. Someone needs to get the Korean birth rate up anyway. We’d be doing it for the good of the country,” he joked.

You laughed. “Someday, definitely. Soon,” you replied. Truthfully, you hadn’t thought about it much but thinking now of having a little mini amalgamation of you and Baekhyun running around was too adorable to resist.

Baekhyun smiled, seemingly relieved. “Good. Now let’s get in the shower and get you cleaned up, baby.”

#baekhyun #baekhyun x reader #baekhyun smut #exo smut #byun baekhyun #exo fanfic #baekhyun fluff #kpop smut #exo imagines #exo baekhyun

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tiannasfanfic · 1 year

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Eddie’s Secret Stash

Eddie Munson x Reader (Smut)

| Eddie & Steddie Masterlist | AO3 Link |

Summary: When your laptop goes on the fritz, using your boyfriend's computer leads you to finding his porn collection in an unexpected way.

Rating: Explicit 18+

Author Note: Afab Reader, they/them pronouns (if any). Modern AU. Smutty but not full smut.

CW: Porn watching; description of porn video (ffm threesome, oral [f and m recieving], p n v sex).

Word Count: 1,628

It all started out with an innocent text to your boyfriend.

Hey babe, my laptop crashed again and I really want to get this story finished. Can I hop on your computer really quick?

Even though Eddie was at work, it didn’t take long for him to text you back.

You don’t ever need to ask me that, sweetheart, feel free to hop on whenever you need to.

Sweet! Thanks baby!

You went to his desk, sat down, and woke up his computer.

After it booted up, you had to text him again.

I kinda need the pin code to unlock it.

Every time you had used his computer before, he was home and it was already unlocked, so you just jumped on and did what you needed to do. Up until now, you didn’t even know he had a pin code on it.

Oh shit! Sorry sweetheart, I forgot. It’s the month and day of your birthday.

That made you melt into a puddle right there at the desk.

Aww, trying to score some brownie points with me?

Maybe…Is it working?

You’ll just have to wait until you get home to find out. ;)

Score!!!

Despite the fact you had been together for a while now, Eddie always acted like a horny teenager whenever you made allusions to having sex with him. And you were just as bad when he did it, even blushing a bit now at his eagerness, so you couldn’t really tease him about it.

You set your phone aside and typed the PIN number into his computer.

As a little turning wheel appeared on the center of the screen to show it was thinking about signing in, you got three texts from Eddie in rapid succession. He only did that when something was urgent or he was excited about something, so you looked at your phone Lock Screen to see what he said.

Wait!

Don’t sign onto my computer yet!

I need to get home first!

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the computer screen change as it finally signed you in and you glanced up from your phone to it.

And then you took a much longer glance.

On the monitor in front of you, paused in mid scene, was the fairly zoomed in image of a hard cock disappearing into the mouth of a woman wearing dark lipstick.

You blinked a few times and stared at the screen for a moment.

As a frequent purveyor of porn yourself, you weren’t upset by what you saw on your boyfriend’s screen. But surprise porn was like surprise alcohol in a drink when you were expecting soda or surprise weed when you were expecting a hand rolled cigarette. It’s always a bit shocking and it takes a moment to recover from. When you did, the corners of your mouth to curve upward in a playful grin.

Now with your original train of thought gone, you were in a playful mood. Your story could wait awhile. The deadline for it wasn’t until two weeks away anyway, you had just wanted to get the first draft done.

Settling back in Eddie’s computer chair, you clicked the space bar to unpause the video.

In this time period, two more texts came in from Eddie. You glanced at your Lock Screen again without opening them.

Sweetheart?

Y/N? Baby??

Eddie seemed uncharacteristically worried, which was a little bit confusing. The two of you had talked about watching porn before, so he should know it wouldn’t bother you. You shrugged and set your phone down, distracted by what was going on in the video.

It was a well-done amateur recording of a two girl, one guy threesome. As the one girl was blowing the guy, she was sitting on the other girls face. The scene stayed like this for just long enough to let you take everything in before the guy was pulling his cock from the girls mouth and then pushing her down so the two girls were in a sixty-nine.

You bit your lip, watching with rapt attention as the guy hopped down from where he had been standing on the bed to position himself behind the girl on top. He then grasped the base of his shaft with one hand, angling it so the girl on the bottom could start sucking on the head. It was a messy angle, soon her lips and cheeks were glistening with saliva from his thrusts into her mouth.

A small warmth began pooling between your legs as you watched the guy pull his cock out of her mouth, angle himself upwards and then sink deep into the cunt of the girl on top.

You had to give it to your boyfriend. He had good taste.

Since you had been striking out lately with your usual porn sites, you began to get curious where Eddie usually found his. You paused the video and minimized the window to find out.

Rather than a website, you were greeted by the file browser on the computer system itself, opened to a folder that was filled with porn. And it was by no means a small collection, it looked like he’d been working on this for years. There were dozens of sub folders and sub sub folders dedicated to specific acts and specific porn stars. Most of the videos were unsorted though, the majority of the files just dumped directly into this main porn folder.

Eddie had sent a few more texts by now, which you had ignored in favor of opening a different video that caught your eye. When it was clear those hadn’t gotten your attention, he was soon calling you instead.

“Edward James Munson!” you said when you answered your phone, making your voice sound stern.

“Sweetheart, I promise, it’s not what it looks like!”

“Really?” you said. “Because what it looks like is that you’ve been holding out on me!”

“I honestly wasn- wait, what?” he said, going from pleading to confused in two seconds.

“Seriously!” you said, exaggerating the tone so it was clearly playful. “You have an impressive collection like this and you don’t even think to share?” You clicked your tongue at him in an admonishing way. “I’m hurt. Truly, I’m hurt.”

There was a long pause from Eddie’s end of the phone.

“I’m…sorry?” he said slowly, nerves and hesitation in his voice, like this was an entirely new situation he found himself. “I…didn’t realize…you’d be interested in…it.”

“Seriously?” you dropped the playful act, now confused yourself. “We’ve talked about our favorite porn stars before, in depth discussions even, and you didn’t think I’d be interested?”

“Hey!” Eddie protested. “In my defense, do you know how many people will say they are fine with porn then freak out if they catch you watching it?”

Now that you thought about it, he had a point. Even you had that issue a few times in the past, either because you watched porn in general or because of what kind you watched.

“All right, fair point,” you said, then switched back to that playfully stern voice. “But that still doesn’t make it okay, mister.”

Now that Eddie knew how you really felt about the whole thing, his tone changed to a playfully apologetic one.

“I know, and I’m sorry,” he said, then his tone dropped lower. “Let me make it up to you, sweetheart.”

His voice sent pleasurable tingles down your spine.

“And how do you propose you’ll do that?” you said.

While you weren’t really paying too close of attention to the video you selected, focusing on the timber change of your man’s voice instead, what you did pay attention to had you rubbing your thighs together slightly. This one was definitely right up your ally.

“In any way you want me too, sweetheart,” he said, his voice a soft growl that was nearly a purr. “Anything you want me to do to you, I’ll do it with pleasure.”

Being a metal singer, and a damn good one at that, Eddie could do things with his voice outside of music that you previously wouldn’t have thought possible. While you were already getting quite worked up easily enough on your own, he knew just the right inflection to use on each word to make you clench around nothing.

And it also made all rational thought fly from your brain.

You swiveled your gaze up to the ceiling, distracting yourself just enough to pull your brain back from the haze Eddie’s voice was making your brain slip into.

“Gosh, I just don’t know,” you said, tapping your chin with one finger even though Eddie couldn’t see it. “Oh! I know! I could browse through these videos I found and see if those give me any ideas!”

From the other end of the phone, you heard Eddie clear his throat a couple of times. Clearly the idea of you watching porn on his computer derailed his brain a little bit.

“T-That is a good idea,” he said, and you could tell by his voice that you just made him blush, among other things.

“You’re off in about an hour, right?” you asked, and when he made a sound of confirmation, you continued. “I’m sure I will have something fun in mind by then.”

Since it was clear his brain wouldn’t get back on track if the phone call continued, you quickly let him go so he could finish out his workday.

As you settled back into his chair, watching the video, an evil grin came to your face.

If you knew Eddie as well as you were sure you did, this next hour was going to be the longest hour of his life.

Eddie Munson Taglist: @eddie-swhore @bmunson86 @tayhar811

#eddie munson #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson one shot

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