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#but only after I SCREAM at the contrast
tender-rosiey · 4 months
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“KEEP THE PRIEST! WEDDING NO.2 STARTS!”
— gojo, sukuna, nanami, geto & toji when you catch the bouquet at a wedding (f!reader)
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a/n: if you don't have a cousin then now you do and thanks for being patient with me everyone! <3
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GOJO SATORU:
 a family member of yours was finally getting married—something you never thought would happen since she was always complaining about all her boyfriends, but hey at least someone finally did it.
anyway, naturally, you took your dear boyfriend as your date.
the wedding was going smoothly, drinks were exchanged, food was distributed, and cakes were eaten—much to your lover’s delight.
another thing that kept happening is people trying to introduce their daughters to satoru.
his instant response was to wrap an arm around your shoulder and pull you close to him, kissing your cheek and chirping a “sorry, but I am happily taken!”
now it was time for the part that a lot of people wait for: the bouquet throw.
your cousin was already crazy, so she has been waiting for it so she can throw the bouquet with all her might. on the other hand ,you and the other ladies were lined up and patiently waited.
one swing, two swings, one faint throw, and finally the bouquet was thrown into the air, heading towards its next owner.
a chorus of ‘its mine! mine!’ filled the room, but relentless, you maneuvered your way into finally catching the bouquet in your hands.
you’ve won the battle.
but wait. it seems like there is a contestant that won’t back down.
“let go of that bouquet, young lady!”
you look behind you and gasps, it is—“satoru?!”
“yes, satoru!” your boyfriend huffs, making his way towards you.
he firmly takes a stance in front of you, contrasting his intimidating position with his infamous pout, “it’s not fair for you to take the bouquet!”
you sway your hip to the side sassily, “does it make a difference? we’re getting married either way!”
your boyfriend shakes his head, “no, babe!” he places his hands on his chest, pushing his theatrics till the top, “I need to be the star!”
he crumbles to the floor and you merely stare at him in silence.
you see your cousin approach you and your boyfriend, “first of all, I am the star, and second, if you don’t stop fighting, I am taking the bouquet back.”
your boyfriend gasps clinging to your legs, “babe, your cousin is super mean!”
you pat his head with a sigh and he happily presses a kiss to your thigh. what a taxing man to be with.
“sweets, I wanna pee.”
taxing child.
RYOMEN SUKUNA:
your boyfriend was—surprisingly—invited to a friend’s wedding, which he hated as he was planning on taking you to a stargazing sight because you’ve been talking about it ever since you saw it multiple times on tiktok.
so, here you are with your boyfriend put into a suit by force.
you’re pretty sure that he is going to rip it any moment, but you would rather he does that when you’re both alone: you don’t necessarily mind a show.
anyway, you are sat with your dear lover who hasn’t stopped frowning since you’ve entered the darn hall.
the only good social thing he has done so far is greeting the groom and the bride. other than that, his hand never left yours and he stuck by you.
it’s cute, though, even if he argues that he is anything but.
you hear them announce that they’re finally throwing the bouquet so you give sukuna a quick peck then run to reserve your space.
now, you get very competitive in certain things, and this is certainly one of them. you will be going home with that bouquet.
and true to your goal, the moment the bouquet is at a height you can reach, you jump at it, holding on for dear life.
your feet reach the ground once again, and you raise your hand in victory, “I did it!”
you don’t see sukuna rolling his eyes fondly and with a proud grin that screams ‘that’s my girl’.
after a bit of applause, you quickly turn to your boyfriend and walk towards his table, radiating with confidence.
you place the bouquet on the table then you lean on your elbows, “I caught the bouquet,” you wink, “what do you think?”
“of course, you would get it,” he hums, “you’re mine, and I don’t settle for less than the best.”
you roll your eyes and lean towards him, swirling the drink that you stole from him, “it’s quite the commitment that we’re getting into,” you then look and lock eyes with him, “think you can handle that?”
“there’s nothing I can’t handle, loser.”
you giggle before cooing, “aww, you love me so much,” he gently shoves you, before his arm is wrapped around your waist, pulling you back towards him.
“I tolerate you.”
“so love!”
“no.”
NANAMI KENTO:
jingling bells, clicking heels, steaming food, and loving couples including you and your dear boyfriend fill today’s wedding hall.
a mutual friend of yours and nanami finally tied the knot with their lover, and you were happily invited.
it was a never ending party of laughter and happy tears—that you efficiently hid by burying your face in your boyfriend’s chest.
things calmed down a bit, leaving you to fangirl about how cute your friend is to nanami.
“but kento, she looked so cute! she is so pretty! he better not hurt her!”
nanami keeps munching on his bread, “I think she is capable of handling that herself.”
you cross your arms with a huff, “what do you mean?”
“she is carrying a shotgun.”
“oh, you right,” you acknowledge, before running towards the dance floor when you see your friend about to throw the bouquet, “f/n, you better not throw that until I tell you!”
“if you don’t get then you just have a major skill issue!”
you gasp, taking a battle stance in the middle of the of the dance floor. you hear your friend giggle, before she finally throws the bouquet into the air.
from then, it’s a cat fight between you and the rest of the people.
however, you come out as victorious then excitedly running towards nanami, “kento! kento! did you see me?”
“mhm, you looked lovely as always,” he chuckles, giving you his full attention.
you giggle, taking a seat beside him. you start talking about your fight(?) to get the bouquet while nanami stealthily takes a plate of your favourite snacks from the buffet and slides it to you.
you gasp, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek, “thank you, love!”
he hums, eyeing the bouquet, “you know,” then he says, fidgeting with his watch a little, “I can get you a better bouquet if you want—with a side of a ring, of course.”
you were about to finally dig in, but your brain quickly short circuits at his comment, “oh.”
slowly, you turn to him, feeling your face get warmer by the second.
he laughs lightly, hand coming to rest on yours, “I am not joking,” he pulls your hand up for a small peck, “I am just waiting for the right time so please be patient with me.”
GETO SUGURU:
the moment the vows were exchanged, music was blasted to the roof, and everyone was partying to the max.
your cousin, the bride, is dancing to the beat with vigor and excitement you’ve never seen before.
you would like to join her, but geto just won’t let you since he knows that you will somehow end up drunk off your mind and dancing on one of the tables.
so you’re sat with him right now, sulking and glaring at him.
“babe, don’t be so sad now, please? I am only doing this so you don’t accidentally hurt yourself.”
you huff and turn your back on him, “I am a full-functioning adult; thank you very much!”
his hand slowly inches towards yours, “the prettiest full-functioning adult,” he smiles, pulling his chair closer to you. “and the smartest too, did you know that?”
you almost give into his advances—his charming smile is far too lethal—but you’ve developed a bit of immunity to his actions.
so instead, you face him with a teasing smile, “I would love if you tell me more—after I successfully steal the bouquet.”
“steal?”
you roll your eyes, “acquire.”
he laughs lightly, and you take it as your cue to run towards the group of women huddled behind your cousin.
you stand proudly, “c/n, throw your bouquet!”
“no!”
“what?!”
“just kidding!”
and so the bouquet flies and ‘accidentally’ lands in your hands—it’s no accident; you’ve been training your entire life for this moment.
people whoop and applaud, and you bow to audience, before scurrying to your darling boyfriend.
you wave the bouquet in your hand, and he nods knowingly, “guess you’re never get rid of me,” you muse, hugging the bouquet to your chest, “what a pity, right?”
he looks at you confused then sighs with a smile, “I never planned to, but okay.”
you beam at him and throw your arms around him, and he laughs, hugging you closer.
you trace shapes on his back and murmur, “you’re way too cute for your own good.”
“I need to charm you one way or another, you know,” he replies, motioning for the waiter to get you two more drinks.
he stays silent for a moment, “you can go get hammered—“
“not!”
“okay, not hammered with your cousin.”
“yay!” you scream joyously and run away.
guess who ended up drunk and dancing on a table.
FUSHIGURO TOJI:
toji and a wedding?
it’s a combination most would not expect, but it isn’t his wedding anyway, so he can’t complain about it being too much commitment right now.
the only thing he can complain about is being put into this ‘suffocating’ suit—a sight you love.
“do we really have to stay till the end?”
you turn towards him, mortified, “this is literally your best friend’s wedding.”
he shrugs, “so?”
with a shake of your head, you drag him further down the hall to your assigned seats. at least, holding your hand is enough to pacify him.
the wedding goes as you would expect, aside from toji almost falling asleep.
you are now just standing beside the clearly expensive and delicious buffet—your true love.
toji is happily indulging in the food laid out in front of him, and you are about to do the same, but you notice that the bouquet throw is about to happen.
so you dash out of your seat just in time to catch that rogue bouquet. you raise your hand, announcing yourself as the now rightful owner of this bouquet.
that’s why you excitedly search for toji to show him your new prize.
you rush towards the table that you left your boyfriend at, “toji, I got it!—toji?”
a look left, a look right, your eyes widen. did the darn guy leave the moment you caught the bouquet? no way his fear of commitment is this intense.
you take note of the groom—toji’s bestie—shaking his head.
feeling embarrassed, you frown and yell for him, “toji fushiguro!”
suddenly, you feel a presence behind your back. you feel the person lean towards your ear a bit, and they whisper a small, “hey.”
you gasp, spinning to smack him square on the shoulder, “I hate you!”
he teases, almost like your hit was never there in the first place, “now now, that isn’t something you say to your future husband,” he grins and you scrunch your face in disgust.
you turn on your heel to walk away from him, “kill yourself.”
“what a foul mouth,” he whistles, following you until you finally give up and are given the chance to punch him in the stomach to make for the scare he gave you.
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copyright © tender-rosiey
do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported
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lynnielovestlou · 1 month
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winner winner (ellabs x reader)
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꩜ synopsis: abby and ellie challenge each other to see who can make you squirt first.
꩜ cw: SQUIRTING!!!! , overstim , threesome , smut with absolutely no plot , dirty talk , pet names , spanking , poosay slapping , dom! abby , dom! ellie , sub! reader , tummy buldge , mention of masturbation , this is kinda short i'm sorry
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.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜
the three of you had been at this for fifteen minutes already. it happened when you mentioned to them that you'd never squirted before. of course, being the two numbskulls that they are, they took that as a challenge.
so now you were laying on your back in bed, abby between your legs and ellie at your side.
ellie was holding your hand, rubbing your knuckles with one hand and rubbing your clit with her other. abby, of course, was wearing her biggest, longest strap she has, and she's pounding into you while she cradled your head.
pathetic little whimpers we're escaping your lips with each thrust, but all you could do was take it.
"shhh... sh sh sh." ellie coos, "come on baby, you can take more."
abby is too focused to speak, hitting that spot inside of you repeatedly. your insides were probably bruised now, and she could feel you clenching around her.
"she's gettin' tight, ellie." abby says. ellie snickers, pressing down and pinching your clit. you moan and your back arches off the bed.
you flail your legs, trying to close them in retaliation, but abby keeps them open. "uh-uh. keep 'em wide and spread for me, sweet girl. you close, huh? yeah, i can feel ya." her words send you over the edge and you're coming for the third time tonight. your entire body convulses with pleasure, and both girls marvel at the way your face contorts.
"no way in hell i'm letting you win." ellie mutters to abby under her breath, shooing her away from you once your high is over.
she gives your cunt a few firm slaps before impaling you with her silicon dick. she bottoms out in one go, the tip of her dick kissing your cervix sloppily. hers is much longer than abby's, making a little bump in your lower tummy.
"s' too big." you whine when ellie's hand meets your stomach, pressing down on the little bump she made.
"you've got it, sweet girl. come on, baby, come on." she whispers in your ear.
abby chuckles as she watches this all unfold. she let ellie go first to get you nice and stimulated, in hopes that she could be the one to make you squirt. but the way that ellie was slamming roughly into you made her believe that that wasn't going to happen.
"hurts." you groan, eyes closing.
"keep your eyes open. watch ellie fuck you." abby commands, so naturally you listen. you open your eyes to watch her slip in and out of you. your thighs were covered in slick, and your next orgasm was coming.
ellie's pants and heavy breaths only turned you on more, and it was getting harder to sit still. ellie had a shit-eating grin on her face, knowing what was about to happen.
"scream my name, honey. come on, let me hear you." she coaxes, and you gush at her words, doing exactly that. you yelled her name, in contrast to the little whimpers and quiet whines you were eliciting earlier. you'd never felt more euphoric in your entire life. sure, you'd come on your own hands, their hands, their straps, and even their mouths several times. but nothing compared to the tingles you felt on every inch of your body.
the sheets were wet.
ellie entire lower half was wet.
you were wet, laying in a puddle of your own substances.
ellie laughs and cheers, "you fucking squirted!"
abby groans in defeat after seeing the utter mess you made. her eyebrows were squeezed together, her bulky hand in a tense fist. she shook her head silently, as if contemplating punching ellie in the jaw.
but ellie was too busy celebrating to notice, "fuck yeah! i did it!" she says, pecking you in every little crease and corner her lips can reach.
you were too fucked-out to comment on her celebrating, or abby's defeat, for that matter.
"how d'you feel, sweet pea?" abby is first to check on you after ellie disappears to go fetch some towels.
"fucking amazing." you mumble, nestling comfortably into the crease between her shoulder and neck, "never knew it could feel like that."
she chuckles, kissing your hairline, "there's plenty more where that came from. next time, i'll be the one to make you squeal like that, hm?"
you laugh quietly at her words, nodding.
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mysicklove · 6 months
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𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐀 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋!
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DAY 18: DRY ORGASM
With: Yuuta Okkotsu
Word Count: 1.9k
Warnings: Sub! Yuuta, gn! reader, multiple orgasm, sorta mentions of cnc? idk, "breeder balls" are used in a silly goofy way, pregnancy mentioned, yuuta cums a total of six times, unrealistic portrayal of dry orgasms.
A/N: i almost named this fic breeder balls just to mess with all you guys. kinktober is driving me crazy
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“It will be fun. C’mon, just trust me!” You tease, pressing kisses along Yuuta’s neck while he sighs. You sit behind him, hands resting on his stomach while you continue to pepper kisses along his neck. One of his weaker points. 
He lets out a shaky breath and then whines gently. “I don’t know…I-It sounds kinda scary.”
“Aw, scary? C’mon, my big, strong, sorcerer boyfriend isn’t afraid of anything,” You quip, teeth grazing his pale skin when you smile into his back.
 Your hands begin to roam up and down his body, and he gulps but doesn’t stop you. He does let out a noise of complaint about your choice of words though. “Yknow that isn’t true,” He mumbles out, pouting slightly. 
You pinch his nipples, and he lets out a high-pitched squeal before turning to you with a half-hearted glare. “Sorry, they are too cute.”
He sighs, slumping against your chest and closing his eyes. “You're the worst.”
“Aw, you don’t mean that. You love me.”
He glances at you before rolling his eyes and nodding softly. Yeah, he did, even with all your teasing.
“Yuutaaaaa,” You purr, getting back to the main point. “Let’s do it.”
He hums, nodding for you to continue to try to convince him. He was still unsure and slightly nervous at the thought.
“You will look so cute. Haven’t you always wanted to cum like a girl? To have every ounce of cum milked out of you,” You bite his ear, earning a whole body shiver from the boy. “Forced out of you. Till you’re shooting blanks.”
That immmediately perks him up, and he cranes his head backward to look up at you with a sheepish grin. He already feels himself growing hard. 
“F-Forced?”
You grin.
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“No more! No more! Please!” He screeches, tears and drool coating his face and falling onto the sheets below him. He was heaving, and he feels like every inch of his body was covered in cum. His thighs and stomach were so sticky, and he was unbelievably sweaty.
Shaky legs try to crawl forward, away from your tortuous hands, but he ultimately fails. You use one arm to grab him by the waist and pull him back. “Where do you think you are going?”
He lets out a pathetic “Noooo!” as his fingers drag along the sheets back toward you. His thighs shake as he tries to hold his body up, and he buries his face into a pillow. 
You hum to yourself, sitting cross-legged and fully clothed, contrasting your lover’s naked body. His knees straddle your legs, giving you a perfect sight of his ass and easier access to pull him back whenever he tries to crawl away.
His thighs, stomach, balls, and even your hand were coated with his cum, and is beginning to dry up from how long its been. But nevertheless, your hands continue to work at his cock, pulling it slightly downward so that it hangs between his open legs. 
Yuuta lets out a choking noise, a mix between a gargle and a yelp, and suddenly he is cumming again. He doesn’t say anything as his orgasm comes crashing upon him again, but you weren’t surprised – he went borderline nonverbal after the third one. 
His chest rises and falls with his rapid breathing, and you watch his whole body tense up. His tears stain the pillow, and his mouth hangs open in a silent scream. The only thing that showed that he was in pleasure was the way his nails dug into the sheets as if he wanted to tear them apart from how intense the sensation was.
You frown through it all, and watch two globs of cum slide down your finger. His legs give out, and he begins to slump on the bed, but you are quick to grab him and hold his waist up with your arm. “Am I–Did I? Are we d-done?” He stutters, his voice raw from his previous screams and cries. You hear him sniffle and watch the way a shaky arm rubs at his nose.
You lightly slap his thigh. “Nope. Almost there, Yuuta! The next one will definitely be dry. Think I got the last couple of drops,” You say, pointing to his cum staining your hand. 
He looks up at you with wide, fearful eyes and starts squirming in your hold. “No! I can’t go anymore. A-And you said that the last couple of times!” He screeches, legs kicking out like a toddler throwing a tantrum, trying desperately to run away from your hold.
Your hands remain on his waist, and you move your body aside so that he doesn’t accidentally kick you with his frantic, panicked movements. His dick was raw at this point, and every muscle was trembling. He couldn’t go again – he was exhausted, completely pushed to his limits.
“Hey, hey, hey. Relax. This time I'm really sure! How many times have you ejaculated?” 
He pauses for a moment, gulping as he thinks back to the previous events. “I think after that…Five times?”
You giggle at him, and the sound makes him tense up. Whenever he is put in these positions, and you laugh, it never is a good sign for him. “Woah, Yuuta, you really have a lot of cum stored up. I’ve heard that most men go dry after their third one…Don’t tell me your pent up?” You babble, passing time to hopefully let his body rest for a moment. Overstimulating him would probably kill the dark-haired boy. 
He sniffles again, and then furrows his eyes and turns back toward you. “Im not, though. Came two days ago, remember?”
You think back to the night and chuckle fondly. “Yeah, I guess your right. Guess my lovely boyfriend just has breeder balls.” You laugh at yourself from the ridiculous word.
His mouth hangs open at your crude words, and he turns a bright shade of pink. Immediately, he tries to scramble out of your hold again, but you just laugh at his flustered noises. “Why would you say something like that? So embarrassing…And no, I don’t,” Your boyfriend complains, shaking his head back and forth to execute his point.
You hum to yourself, content that he has finally calmed down again, at least enough to put up and actively respond to your teasing words. 
“Bet you could get any girl pregnant,” You continue to coax, mind drifting off from your words to return to your original motive. You begin to situate yourself again, hands moving back to the task at hand. 
“Stop it, please! It’s so,” He groans into the pillow, unaware that you have begun to stand up. “I don’t know! Just sto–” Suddenly, his head is being forced into the pillow, and your hand is back onto his cock. Your movements are rough and fast, and his whole body seems to short-circuit.
Yuutas eyes widen as he feels the back of your hand pin his head into the pillow, and he feels your hands wrap around his dick again. He doesn’t even have time to react, except for a surprised yelp. By the time his brain catches up to the sensation, you have already palmed him four times now, and he is so sensitive. “W-Wait!” He begs, tears resurfacing. 
The sound of your hand wrapping around his red cock is lewd. Loud squelching sounds fill the room, and he knows that the wetness is from his previous cum. It makes your head spin, and Yuuta wants to die from embarrassment. 
Your hand finally lets go of his neck, and he pulls away immediately, gasping out for air. His back arches, and he begins his clawing at the bedsheets again. “F-Fuck,” Your lover whimpers, tears free streaming again. 
His cock feels raw by now. Five orgasms in a row was an insane amount to him. The farthest he had gone before this was three, before he was forced to call it quits, or else risking him passing out. Right now, his mind seemed to be melting from the harsh feeling. 
You have to support his body still by hoisting his hips upward. His forehead touches the sheets, and his bangs cover his face as he looks downward. It was almost disappointing that you couldn’t see his pretty expressions, but from what you could see by his sporadic movements, Yuuta was crumbling. 
It hurt. Your hands were too rough. The pace was too intense. He can’t think anymore. His mouth hangs open, and his tongue threatens to loll out. All he can hear is your hands and his cum, and honestly, although he hates to admit it, it was spurring him closer to his orgasm.
Just one more. He can do that. He can cum one more time. Everything in him pleads for it to be dry, because he may seriously die if he has to go a seventh round. 
So, with everything in him, he begins to grind into your hand, trying to coax his orgasm to come quicker. He lets out a silent scream, and he furrows his eyes shut but doesn’t stop fucking back into your hand. 
You watch with amusement at the trembling boy’s movements. He was trying his best, and it was honestly quite cute. Just for him, you pick up the pace of your hand movements. 
The reaction to it is immediate – the muscular body curls over on itself as he heaves. You bring him closer to you, now using both hands to jack him off, hoping he doesn’t collapse just for a couple more seconds.
Yuuta’s eyes roll back, and he can faintly hear your encouragements. “C’mon, love. Just one more. Cum for me one more time.” 
He bites onto the pillow and nods his head, unable to give you a reply. He can feel his orgasm approaching, and frankly, it scared him. It was going to be a strong one, he could tell, and he was unsure if his body was able to take it. He was already shaking at this point, could his muscles really constrict one more time? He could barely hold himself up.
He doesn’t have time to dwell on it, because his orgasm hits him out of the blue. For the first time since his second orgasm, Yuuta screams into the pillow. His thighs come squeezing together, and his fingers dig into anything they can grab. Tears continue to rush down his face, and he tries his best to breathe.
His knees come forward, and accidentally, he raises his hips higher into the air, creating a pretty arch in his back. You watch, mesmerized by the show, and then glance at his cock.
Not a single drop of cum is let out. You grin, and rub his thighs, coaxing him through it all, proud of him.
He slumps against the bed and this time you let him. Then, he very slowly turns to you, eyes cloudy. “I–I?” He tries, brain not catching up with him.
“Yep, good job. Came dry. I’m so proud of you.”
He gives you a lazy, but satisfied grin, nodding slightly. You crawl over to him, sitting down next to his head. He places his near-limp hand on your knee, and you hold onto it. “Guess…Guess I–No breeder balls for me,” He mumbles in full seriousness, as if he is proud of the fact.
You have to cover your mouth to refrain from laughing too loud. You place your head over his eyes, shutting them for him. “Guess not. Sleep, Yuuta.”
“Yeah, yeah. I know.” He falls asleep not even a minute later. You don’t blame him.
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peachedtvs · 2 months
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TIL' DEATH DON’T WE PART ft. Yandere!Alastor
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⃝𖤐 VALENTINES DAY 2024 SPECIAL…
⃝𖤐 SUMMARY: After fleeing from your fiancé, it isn’t long before the two of you reunite, against your will or with it—on Earth or not.
⃝𖤐 CONTENT WARNINGS: afab, fem!reader, yandere!ex-fiancé!alastor x reader, alastor being a serial killer, moderate description of gore, NONCON/DUBCON, fingering, oral (fem receiving), big dick alastor—not great prep, p in v sex, rough sex, biting/marking kink, fear play, predator/prey dynamics, size kink, alastor uses his shadows,
⃝𖤐 WORD COUNT: 3.9k | 2k plot, 1.9k smut
⃝𖤐 STREAM NOTE: SMUT BELOW THE SECOND NSFW BANNER !😋i am IN LOVE WITH THIS MAN GUYS
⃝𖤐 MASTERLIST. Main blog @peachedtv
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Alastor felt you were quite silly, even from when the two of you were small.
So silly, in so many ways.
You were silly in the way you spoke. Expressive, lively, words filled with kindness and rhythm. Words Alastor wanted to lock away for only him to hear. Your voice always melted into his mind like honey. Soothing, calming, just like the radio he’d hum to silently during his auditory carnages. Screams of pain, terror, and torment vastly contrasting a smooth swing of jazz muffled through a radio’s buzz.
Your smile was silly too. Loud, boisterous laughs pairing with it each time as you’d close your eyes tightly, breaths jagged as you’d brace your stomach from the joy. Your smile so mesmerizing Alastor wanted nothing more to lock it away behind a key. To melt away in the melody of your laughter, to spread it across his lips and adorn the smile as sweetly as you do.
He’s adapted that wish somewhat.
What was even sillier was how silly you made him feel. On the surface, the twist in his stomach was sweet. An admiration, an appreciation of something so pure. Although,
Alastor always fell apart.
Even in the room of his own heart.
Every silly thing had something inside of him twist. A strange twist, a bubbling feeling that had his gut wrench around itself—curling around and laying discomfort deep into his heart, where it stood mockingly. Unable to be buried beneath other thoughts, placed behind distractions, or replaced with another. And this bothered him.
Alastor was always in control.
Control of his subordinates, control of his manipulation, his chaos around him. So why couldn’t he control this?
What were you doing to him?
He thought it was uncomfortable at first. But that strange feeling was quite addicting, stacking tenfolds in intensity ever since the first time he felt it with you.
“Are you okay?”
By now, this memory had occurred over a century ago, on the Earth he no longer lived in.
The first day you two had met, Alastor was a clumsy boy. His two feet carrying him slower than the beat of his heart, tumbling him down onto his knee into the unforgiving concrete. It hurt. A sting and burn that tugged the corner of his lips into a frown, holding back tears as other children ran past him without any acknowledgement.
He never wanted mother to worry, and so, he always sucked it up. Tugging his knee into his chest, he blew onto the wound and hugged his leg—his lips wobbling.
And suddenly, there you were.
A small, petite child then. Clumsy and expressive as you stared down to him with empathy, your hand extended to him as the other rested on your knee. Alastor was surprised. Enough so that for a split second, he had forgotten of his wounds, of the pain. Cautiously, he took your hand.
Your hand felt right in his.
Soft, smooth, and warm against his cold skin. Soon, your fingers were almost always intertwined with his. Alastor’s mother would coo at the two of you each time Alastor brought you over to dance, smiling happily as you stumbled over his feet in the living room—his favorite radio buzzing soft melodies in the background. Alastor moved gracefully, having danced with his mother in preparation. You were not the same. You couldn’t help but have your eyes stuck on the floor, eyebrows raised in concentration as you followed his steps.
One step,
two step,
three step,
four.
You weren’t a great dancer. And after a long afternoon of clumsily tapping your feet around, the sun began to retract past the skyline, and Alastor had offered to walk you home. It was bright, really bright. Your eyebrows furrowing at the light from Earth’s warming star, a small hand raised to your forehead to soothe your eyes from the bright light.
“Al, look!” You pointed to the sun. Orange hues trailing red as the two colors bleed together, warm tones mesmerizing your childish heart and sparking wonder into your eyes.
Meanwhile, Alastor was looking at a different star. His star.
“I want to make a deal.” Alastor spoke softly. And slowly, you turned to him, curiousity tilting your head as you met Alastor’s timid expression with a hum of acknowledgment. Alastor raised his pinky finger.
“I want to be with you forever.” Alastor tucked away into his body. For the first time, his eyes looked away from you—the warmth from the sky traveling down to blush his cheeks, a pale red hue over his soft features. To his surprise, your pinky hooked onto his in an instant.
“Forever.”
And there was Alastor’s first deal of souls. A deal that tied your essence to his until the end of time—for a promise between two whom are pure surpasses the strength of any other.
And forever meant forever.
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Years together flew by, and Alastor became your fiancé, set to tie your love together by law in a couple months. You both had your own jobs, despite his insistence for you to stay at home and allow him to care for you. Although, you wanted to work. You wanted to experience the world. But what you didn’t want were the unreasonable hours of overtime your boss had subjected to you. Much to Alastor’s dismay, many late afternoons he would return to an empty home. Full of furniture, light, decoration, but never with the person he truly wished the presence of. Every evening, you would trail home hours after him. Enervated, dragging your feet along the floorboards as you slumped into his open arms.
“I missed you, Cher.”
Your voice was like honey.
“I missed you more, my Dear.” Alastor greeted you softly. There it was again. Something twisted. Alastor looked down to your visage. Dark eyebags staining your soft skin, a pout dragging your lips, your eyebrows furrowed slightly as you sighed from exhaustion. His gut was twisting stranger than usual. A mix of annoyance for those who have exploited you, an annoyance that made his stomach curl inside.
Alastor did not want you to continue working.
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Your boss had gone missing for a couple days now.
The company was in disarry, having strangely lost empolyee after empolyee ever since you were recruited. The once bustling, lively atmosphere became quiet, dull, and empty. And with the new loss of your empolyer, there wasn’t an office cubicle you could return to. For the first time in months, you returned home before Alastor.
Although, something felt off.
With Alastor home, it was always lively. The ambience of radio would hum an electronic swing of jazz, a low vibrato of your home’s ventilation system, and the comfort of your fiancé’s presence. He was such a soothing soul. Without him, the home felt strange. You felt presences of another, many, an overbearing amount. As though invisible strings clumped together to weigh you heavier into the floor boards, creacking the dark oak louder than usual.
Without Alastor, it felt as though something was calling for you—and curiously, you began to explore. Exploring as the home you resided in, as this home empty of your lover didn’t feel like a home anymore. And that lead you to the door that stood at the far end of the first floor. Tucked beside the laundry room, you stood still and seemed confused.
Was there always a lock?
A sturdy lock it was. Heavy metal weighing it flush against the wood, holding the door firmly shut to keep everything in out. There was a strange smell, too. A scent that leaked from beneath the dark oak doorway, filling the air with a musk of cooper and spoiled eggs. Your hand reached for the lock, flinching when built up static pricked your skin. A warning. But you held firm. Giving a cautious, downward tug as the lock went slack. It was open. You pushed the door back slowly, a low creak humming your presence, a flood of a strange meat stinging the view in your eyes.
Firmly, a familiar hand held your shoulder.
The hand of your fiancé.
You were terrified.
“Dear, what are you doing?”
You couldn’t think.
Not with the view of mangled flesh, the smell of copper and iron so strong your head began to haze strangely. No, you couldn’t think. Even moreso with scattered limbs decorating the floor—being the remainder of the morbidly intact heads of your former colleges and empolyer, of your missing boss. Pieces of them did not fit like a puzzle. Limbs, skin, so much of their bodies were missing.
What was that dinner Alastor served these passing evenings?
And it seemed as though fate enjoyed sparking your memory.
This time around, nearly a century later, it was not scatttered corpses, blood, or flies that greeted you. You stood before the door of a new, Hazbin Hotel. Advertised as a place for refemption, a gateway of return to Heaven—the place you swore you should have ended up in. And yet, nostaglia always played its role.
Just as a century ago, nails dug into your shoulder, holding you in place. A voice staticy, strange, and terrifyingly familisr beneath it’s vintaged filter. The grip dug into your flesh this time, keeping you from running—just as you did in 1933. With a door you shouldn’t have opened, and a hand on your shoulder that felt larger than usual.
Your fiancé’s hand.
“I missed you, my Dear.”
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You didn't know what was happening.
You scrambled fruitlessly, trying to shove Alastor's hand off your shoulder when sharp, black tendrils gripped your wrists in an instant. By the next, it seemed you were melting into the floor, the world around you sputtering and glitching as your vision faded out and back in as you fell back onto a large bed.
You couldn't recognize the monster that was before you.
You didn't want to recognize the monster that was before you. Although, a sharp, large hand gripped the lower half of your face, covering your mouth and pinning you down into the plush duvet to muffle horrified screams, forcing you to look deep into a being empty of a soul.
Even back then, you always felt Alastor’s deep eyes lacked light. They seemed dull, strange, and detached from any wonder or interest. All until his gaze would flit upon you. A spark of light dashing his iris, a soft smile spreading his lips. He only looked human when he looked at you.
Alastor still kept that smile. A smile that had morphed after his descent into Hell. Sharp teeth, discolored skin, bloodshot eyes that contrasted against dark red sclera. He looked terrifying. His body was misshapen, large, his face framed with blood-colored hair and root-like antlers protruding from his head. His size dwarfed you, a wolf to rabbit. Predator to prey.
“Al—“
"You recall the time when you'd say it back, don't you, my Dear?" He leaned down by your neck, breathing in shakily as though he couldn't believe you were finally here. With him. All to himself. "When you would say you missed me too." His voice was disfigured. A static like radio and dark undertone to his speech making your head spin and eyes well with tears. Your entire body was trembling, the skin on your back burning as every nerve in your brain set off sirens that resonated throughout your head. You felt too fearful to even choke out a pathetic sob, wanting to blend into the sheets below you.
Meanwhile, Alastor felt himself going crazy. He couldn't help the way his mind ran a mile a minute as he stared down at your dicheviled form. You were always so pretty, absurdly so. Even as the strands of your hair fell misplaced over your face, even as you looked up to him with so much fear, hatred, and terror, his stomach twisted just as it did nearly a century ago. That strange feeling laying addiction down into the lining of his stomach, soothing his body that felt run dry of how you made him feel.
He needed you. Now.
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Alastor brought a hand to his lips, hastily removing his right glove as he bit the fabric covering the tip of his middle finger, tugging his glove off by his teeth. His free hand pinned you pliantly down into the mattress by the lower half of your face, the other sliding beneath your shirt to tear the fabric off your body. You thrashed, muffled sobs and tears running down your cheeks, wetting the palm of his hand.
Your terror only fueled him further.
His hands groped and fondled every inch of your skin that one could imagine, a long tongue pairing with his touch as Alastor licked a long stripe up your neck—sucking deep blotches and bruises of dark blue and purple hues across your neck and chest. Alastor marked you as his, bit your flesh like a meal, and ruined your soft skin for his pleasure.
The mattress beneath you was in shambles. Inch deep tears lay by your head as Alastor held back the urge to squeeze you blue, from ripping into your flesh, the torn mattress a goreish display of holding back the brutal cuteness aggression Alastor got from the sight of you.
His hand slid from your mouth, gripping your neck tightly to restrict precious air from flooding your throat. He wanted you ditzy anyway. Nothing but a lifeless shell of who you were once he was done.
Pilant.
Obidient.
And what better way than halfway choking you out?
Your hands held his wrist desparately, nails scratching into his skin as he only smiled wider in response, stitches appearing on the corners of his mouth to prevent his face from ripping in two from his pure display of euphoria.
You hadn't stopped crying this entire time. Desparate pleas falling on deaf ears as you begged Alastor that this was enough, that you'd listen, that you'd stay. And as convincing as it seemed, Alastor was not giving you another chance to escape him. Not again.
His hand trailed down until it cupped your clothed cunt. Nothing on your body remaining besides your panties. A gift, perhaps—the best for last. Alastor pushed your panties to the side, experimentally swirling the pad of his thumb onto your clit, causing you to wretch out a struggled moan.
"A-Alastor—!" He only smiled in response.
"Quite sensitive, hmm? It seems you haven't changed at all." His thumb pressed harder onto your cunt, rubbing your clit side to side as the palm of his hand pressed firmly down upon your womb. He watched you fall apart with glee, sliding his other hands between your thighs and gently nudging a finger inside of you. You threw your headback into the sheets, grabbing the duvet desperately, your hips trembling as you felt your sanity waste away to the pleasure wracked into your body.
You always fell apart so prettily.
Your hand shakily reached out to Alastor, your lips quivering as a second finger curled into your cunt—the heel of his hand hitting the underside of your puffy clit as he kept toying with the bud. It burned, terribly so. Considering how much larger his stature was to yours, how much larger his finger would be to your own, it was a miracle you weren’t ripped in half yet. Although, it sure felt as though you were.
Alastor stretched you out relentlessly, scissoring inside of you before curling the pads of his fingers plush against your g-spot. You arched your back desperately, crying out as your hips stuttered in response. And Alastor kept prying there. His fingers pounding into your cunt, hitting your g-spot over and over and over until you felt as though you'd die from the overstimulation. As you reached out to Alastor, the black tendrils appeared once more. Grabbing your wrists before tying your hands together and in front of your chest as through you were praying—and perhaps you were. Praying to Alastor to slow down, to be more gentle.
A third finger was nudged deep inside of you, pairing with the speed of his thumb on your clit increasing. His fingers pounded into you feverishly, sounds of your arousal soaking your inner thighs and his forearm—dirtying the sleeve of his pinstriped coat. You couldn't concentrate, no longer resisting against the firm hold his shadows had upon your wrists. No longer holding back your sweet moans.
A burning desire began to pool in your gut.
"Alastor, p-please—"
A hand gripped your throat.
"What was that?"
"A-Al, please— I'm gonna cu—m!" He smiled to you. You always were a quick learner.
"Cum then, dear." His fingers sped up their speed inside your cunt, recklessly pounding and curling into you, brusing your g-spot painfully as you sobbed out, clenching your pussy around his cock as you squirt onto him. Alastor smiled, leaning down to suck your clit and swirl his tongue around the bud as your mouth opened silently. Your hips struggled away, and yet his shoulders spread your knees firmly, the underside of your thighs thrown over them. Alastor continued to bully your pussy past your orgasm, sucking and licking your clit as his fingers continued to curl and pound into you to ride out your high. You were crying endlessly. Begging him to stop, that it was enough. And yet, he didn't pull out his hand until you were merely twitched and whimpering in his bed. Broken.
"Have you lost yourself in the pleasure, Cher?" Alastor was manic. Your pleasure felt like a high he couldn't describe. The way your fingers clencthed around him, he felt as though it was a sign. A sign that all your struggling was only to encourage him to fight against you, a sign that you were only pretending to be scared.
"You wanted this, didn't you?" Your eyes widened open when you felt the tip of his cock slide between your folds, Alastor having removed his clothing now too. You struggled, trying to sit up when his hand once again held your throat warningly, choking you lightly against the mattress—gently enough that you could take slow, shallow breaths.
"Al, it's not gonna fi—!" Your mouth fell open silently as Alastor suddenly shoved the head of his cock inside of you. Your pool of arousal allowing him to slide in with just a minor amount of resistance—minor to his strength at least.
Meanwhile, your eyes blew wide as you whimpered out desperately, struggling against the binds on your wrists as your cunt stretched around him. He was big, painfully so. And you were thankful he decided to slide the remaining of his length in slowly, inch by inch. And yet, even when he was just halfway, you felt as though he was already plush against your cervix.
"Is she resisting, hmm? I guess a little force would be needed in the end." Before you could understand what Alastor meant, he slammed the remaining half of his length deep inside of you as you screamed out, your hands curling tight fists as your nails dug deep crescents into your palms.
Before you knew it, Alastor pulled out to the tip, and slammed right back into you. His pace was unwavering. A hand gripped on your neck, the other pressing you into the mattress by a palm against your womb as he split you on his cock. Alastor pounded into you, skin against skin as you soaked his cock, splashing your arousal onto his pelvis and lower stomach. He was big, too big. Tears streamed down your face, and Alastor only wiped them with his thumb before licking it into his mouth. He wanted to taste your fear.
He wanted to rip you apart.
Your chest heaved as his thumb came down to your clit once more, roughly pressing onto you before swirling it harshly. You arched your back, clawing at the wrist on your throat as you moaned, crying around his cock when the underside of it would press into your g-spot, when the head of it would slam so deep against your cervix you felt he might fuck himself into your womb. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head, a hand gripping the torn sheets below you as you cried out when your pussy clentched around him.
"Please, please, can I c-cum—" You sobbed, looking down to where you and Alastor where connected, seeing your cunt stretched impossibly wide for your ex-fiancé's cock.
"Don't you dare."
"Please, Cher."
Fuck.
You drove him fucking crazy.
Alastor swore he could’ve cum on the spot from hearing you finally call him Cher once more, the name you neglected from him. The only name you should be calling him. Alastor laughed.
"You truly know me so well, my Dear." Alastor's pace increased. His cock pounding into you hard enough to have your tits bouncing and the frame of the bed on the verge of giving out—your cunt clentching onto his fat cock even more.
"You can cum in three seconds." You nodded stupidly, too desparate to think.
Alastor pulled back to the tip, slamming back inside.
"Three," His palm pressed into your womb, feeling the buldge of his dick against his hand, his cock dragging against your velvety walls. You swore you were going to die if you couldn't cum soon, Alastor's counting teasingly slow as he fucked into you like a fleshlight. Like a pet.
"Two." Your pussy fluttered against him, Alastor's shadow taking his place on your clit as it swrled the bud ruthlessly—his now free hand grabbing your face to squish your cheeks.
"One," You whined, sliding your hands to his upper back as you raked down his skin.
"Please, please, please, let me cum." You were going crazy.
"Cum." You threw your head back, near screaming his name like a mantra as you clencthed around him, squirting for the second time that night as his cock continued to pound deep inside of you. Alastor let go of your throat, his hands sliding beneath the underside of your thighs to push your knees into your chest—fucking you meanly in a harsh mating press as he refused to slow down. You felt like your soul was going to fall out your body, your pussy spasming as Alastor continued to pound into you without any concern to your fresh orgasm and painful overstimulation that burned your walls.
"C-Cher, Al—please, I can'—"
And for the first time since 1933, and for the first time together, in the new realm of Hell—Alastor kissed you.
His kiss was soft, gentle, loving. His hips never stilled, continuing to rip orgasm after orgasm out of your poor little pussy. Although, his mouth was soft against yours, eyes closed and hand holding your neck lightly as the tips of his fingers graced your bruised skin. Bruised with the marks of his love, his obsession.
He held your face as kindly, as though you may be gone if he didn't keep you in his arms forever. Alastor's tongue slid into your mouth slowly, and you moaned around him—letting him in. Your body missed him so much.
Maybe you still love him, even after it all.
Alastor's pace became staggered, his hips slowing until he kept his cock deep inside and came directly into your womb. His load gushed out from the sides of your hole that stretched around him, stuffing you full. Alastor allowed your thighs to rest by his hips, laying you back against the mattress as he continued to kiss you. His hands massaged your body, comforting the bites, hickeys, and bruises.
"I love you, my Dear."
Alastor spoke softly, pulling away from you. Admiring your fucked out state.
"So don't leave me ever again."
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© Peached TVs 2024
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sweet-as-an-angel · 5 months
Text
MW2 w/ a Sex Slave
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Warnings: 18+, Implied Initial Dubious Consent, Stomach Swelling, Cum Inflation, Unprotected Sex, Degradation, Slut-Shaming, Victim Blaming, Mean MW2, Rough MW2, Gentle MW2, Sex Slave! Reader, Kidnapping, Dark Fic !!!, Captive/Captor Relationship, Mention of Pregnancy, Implied Contraceptives, Implied Stockholm Syndrome, Kidnapping, Descriptions of Smut, No Pronouns Used For Reader Except 'You'.
MW who saw you shopping alone once and decided they had to have you, following you home and slapping a soaked rag over your mouth and nose before you could scream.
MW whose intentions with you are unclear. Until you notice the bulge in their trousers and the purr in their voices, their provocations, as they watch you writhe against the restraints, watch you helplessly struggle against a fate they’ve already decided for you.
Ghost, König and Soap are the roughest with you, often the ones to just tear your pants off when they’re desperate, filling you not long after.
They’re rarely gentle, instead opting to take you raw and use you for their own ends, slamming their hips into yours as they call you their ‘Cumdump’ until you hear them release a guttural roar, emptying days’ worth of hot semen inside you.
Your first time with Ghost almost left you feeling like you were about to burst with how backed-up he was, his balls bulbous and slapping the skin of your backside red and raw with each thrust, primal in his disposition as all he could do was growl, your body tight around him, driving him over the edge of frenzy.
He’d made sure to leave his mark on you, the prominent bulge in your stomach slowly deflating as he pulled out and his semen leaked out of you, his teeth marks embedded deep into the juncture of your shoulder and throat, bruising you.
And while Soap and Ghost’s loads are somewhat palatable given how frequently they use you, how little time passes between when they last had you and when they’ll take you again, König almost always leaves you feeling like you’re about to rupture.
Given his height, he’s the biggest of all your captors. Not only that, but his cock is thick enough to leave you feeling like you have rocks in your stomach whenever he forces himself into you, his strokes long and pounding, making sure you feel every inch of him.
And just like Soap and Ghost, he’s degrading. Merciless.
“Pretty little whore – only good for being used and fucked,” he pants, a cruel smile hidden beneath his veil as he slams into you, making you yelp. “I bet you wanted us to follow you home – wanted to be used as nothing more than the dumb cockslut you are.”
Price, Gaz and Alejandro are a lot more gentle, understanding that, while you’re there solely for their pleasure, you’re still fragile. Human.
They’re soft and slow with their thrusts, giving you time to adjust to their size before continuing.
Whenever they’re being intimate with you, they try to comfort you as best they can. A stark contrast to Ghost and Soap’s incessant name-calling, degrading and claims that you’re their “Good little slut whose only use is to take what we give you.”
They’ll stroke your hair, press their forehead to your shoulder (only to feel you tense beneath them, anticipating a love bite or harsh suck) — anything to try and make you feel less like you’re a sex slave and more like a friend with benefits.
They’ll ease you onto them, telling you you’re “Doing so well, Love,” as your nails drag down their back, insides spasming as your body tries to accommodate their girth.
Of course, you worried the first few times they had their way with you that their pumping you full of their seed would leave you pregnant.
However, they always provided you with means of preventing that.
But, much to your horror, you felt as if they’d impregnated you with an idea, a feeling.
That being that you enjoyed what they were doing to you, ravaging you, pumping you full of their load until they were satisfied and your stomach was swelling.
And while your sanity tried to reason your way through your acceptance — that you were being held prisoner by literal military-men-turned-kidnappers — your mind, for better or worse, didn’t care.
Not when they were providing for you, bringing you luxury food, clothes, anything your heart desires — things you were certain would be nigh impossible to obtain were you working an ordinary 9-5.
Or, perhaps you were rationalising your willingness to stay here with them, to live as their human sperm bank, reduced to an existence of bending to the will of militant captors whose semen dripped down your thighs, whose hands forced your face into pillows or made you bounce on their cocks while looking at them, giving you a glimpse into their eyes, the monsters they hid behind a veneer of humanity; whose stamina and strength leaves you whining, crying and almost begging for more whenever they finished, more often than not forcing orgasms out of you, making you push back into them, body willing to take every ounce of their cum and inch of their cocks.
Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)
Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist
AO3 Wattpad
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lafleshlumpeater · 4 months
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Hi babe!! I loved your Luke x Aphrodite reader and was wondering if you could do another?? If you alr have an idea go ahead with whatever you want but maybe something with protective Luke 🤭🤭
I’m on a new Luke obsession from the show
Thanks!!!
thanks for requesting<3 i hope you like this!!
warnings: fem!reader, unwanted flirting, protective/possessive behaviour (not in a toxic way though), mentions of drinks (unspecified whether it's alcohol or not), one word that i think can be classified as a swear word?? lmk if i missed any
requests are always open <3
luke castellan masterlist part one
“Hi.”
You jump slightly. “Hey. You scared me,” you breathe a nervous laugh through your nose. What was taking Luke so long?
You and your boyfriend had gone to the fourth of July bonfire- together, obviously- and he had disappeared, mentioning something vague about drinks and the Stoll twins (probably seeking their most recent stock of soda stash, smuggled, of course) when a slightly older camper approached you. You recognised him as an Apollo camper- you had seen him train with a bow and arrow; he was good.
He sits down next to you on the sand, slightly too close for you to be fully comfortable. Your eyes dart around frantically, looking for one of your siblings to save you- but Silena was cosied up with Beckendorf, foreheads pressed together and giggling whilst Lacy was chatting up a newer camper. You curse internally, the rest of your siblings either splashing around in the ocean or helping set up for the firework display. You offer the unfamiliar camper another strained smile in a futile attempt at breaking the awkward silence.
What was his name? Something starting with 'M', maybe?
“What’s a pretty girl like you doing alone?” the mystery boy asks- a bit too directly, in your opinion, for someone you hardly know.
You give a little giggle, hoping it sounds appreciative of the basic compliment. Even after being in this agonising situation on multiple occasions, you had gotten no better at handling them. You sigh wistfully. If only your mother had given you powers to deter unwanted attention as well as attracting it.
“Uh… I’m waiting. For my boyfriend.” You ensure to place extra emphasis on the title. He smirks, unfazed.
“Some shitty boyfriend, huh?” He says in satisfaction, completely misreading the situation to fancy his own whims, accompanied with the fakest sympathetic sigh. It makes you want to scream.
“No, actually-”
“Actually, the ‘shitty’ boyfriend’s right here.”
You can’t help but exhale in relief, muscles loosening at the mere sound of Luke’s voice. You stand up, turning around to face him. “Luke.”
“Hey, doll.” The glare etched in his sculpted features (directed at the obnoxious flirt) contrasts greatly with the gooey sweetness of his greeting. “Who’s your friend?”
You try not to snort. “Uh…”
He doesn’t wait for an answer, wrapping a fierce arm around your shoulders. You melt into him. “There a problem, buddy?”
An amused smirk creeps onto your face, and you have to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing. Luke never calls anyone ‘buddy’.
“N- no, course not, I was just…” the Apollo camper stutters.
Luke raises a blond eyebrow. “Just?”
“Keeping her company!” he blurts out, already beginning to edge away from the conversation. 
Luke looks at the ground, lips curving upwards in a cold smirk. “Well, for next time, don’t worry. I’ll take you with me next time, sweet thing, if you feel lonely, ‘kay?” he simpers, half- joking for your entertainment, half in seriousness in wanting to ward off the unsuspected boy. By this time, he’s already gone and Luke leans down to whisper, hand tightening around your waist slightly as his lips brush the shell of your ear. “My girl,” he mutters.
taglist: @quickslvxrr @bibliophile-dendrophile
READ: this account stands with palestine, and so— i require everyone who interacts to educate themselves, and support/donate. READ THESE; 1 and 2, HELP HERE, BOYCOTT. silence is complicity, do not scroll past this.
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sweetiecutie · 6 months
Text
🖤Fuck or die🖤
Paring: slasher! König x fem! Reader
Warnings: NSFW, mdni, dead dove do not eat, non-con so rape, cuckolding, unwilling cheating, oral, facefuck, dick piercing bc I know y’all like it, unprotected sex, blood, murder, gore in the end. This is only fiction, don’t take any of this too seriously! If you feel triggered by any of these tags - just scroll past!
Word count: 4k, holy fucking shit
A/n: not me writing this in one day, jesus fucking christ😮‍💨 It’s first time I wrote something so violent, but I think I did pretty good! Originally planned to post it on halloween night but I’m too eager to share!! Also, I tried my best to fix all mistakes by proofreading it 4 times, I really did, but I’m pretty sure that I left out some still
It’s been very uneasy in a small town where you lived - series of blatant murders shook up all inhabitants with their brutality. Cruelly butchered corpses gave a hint of culprit’s strength, so cops guessed it was a man. And the most terrifying thing about this whole situation was that this maniac was still on loose - he never left any evidences, not a damn thing - nothing that could give a clue of who he was. The only trace he’s ever left wasn’t an accident or his mistake, but a well-planned thing - after appearing nameless in numerous news reports and articles he finally decided to introduce himself, writing KÖNIG with his victim’s blood on white flooring, said victim’s two bloody teeth serving as umlaut.
And his motives behind picking out victims were just as unclear - there was nothing in common between all these people: he didn’t have any preferences in victim’s sex or age, their profession nor appearance - as long as they lived in one family house, to avoid anyone hearing their screams, you figured. It seemed that he simply loved killing, who that was - didn’t matter.
You can’t say how exactly it all happened. It was another evening that you were spending at your boyfriend’s place - Paul’s parents were out of town for a few days for anniversary of their wedding, leaving a huge house for their only son. You felt uneasy - there weren’t any new murders in over a month, people were scared that maniac will go “haunting” very soon, which meant that no one was safe.
Paul only cooed at you soothingly when you shared your worries with him, promising to “protect you from all weirdos out there”, placing a comforting kiss on your forehead. So to distract yourselves you decided to throw a movie night - stacking up with snacks and beer, Netflix window opened on a large tv-screen, ready to serve its purpose as you made last preparations.
Cuddled up on the comfy couch, your boyfriend’s comforting warmth slowly seeped into your tense muscles, you watched some corny comedy, groaning in tandem at poorly-made jokes. When suddenly a sound of shattered glass jolted you both up, staring tensely at each other.
- I’ll go check it, - Paul said, getting up and heading to the living room from where the noise came. Everything was quiet for a few long minutes, your fingers fiddled with loose string on the corner of fluffy blanket as you heard some crashing and your boyfriend’s angry shouting:
- Y/n, get out of here!
Then everything was as if in a blur; tall figure clad in all black stepped into the living room, white scream mask contrasting starkly, huge knife covered in thin layer of blood was shining in blue tv-light. Your heart dropped to your stomach as you stared at the man in front of you - sticky feeling of fear seemed to fill every muscle in your body with heavy lead, making it impossibly hard to move even an inch. And then something in your head snapped, you threw yourself off the couch and towards the door opposite from killer, but he was way quicker - huge hands gripped you by your shoulders, rising you off your feet easily and dragging you back towards living room, your struggling and screaming did nothing to help.
You were now kneeling in front of this psycho, hands tied up tightly with coarse rope that dug painfully into your soft skin, surely leaving deep indents and dark bruises. Your boyfriend was laying on his side a few meters afar - bound by his wrists and ankles with same rope, crimson blood oozed out of deep stabbing wound in his stomach, nose obviously broken and bleeding - all these a result of his grapple with intruder, which obviously didn’t end in Paul’s favour.
- Please, - you weeped, tears and snot covered all of your face, whole body trembled with fear and adrenaline. - Please, I’ll do anything you want, just don’t kill me, - you managed to choke out, silent cries tore through your chest, their intensity made it hard for you to breathe - you were hysterical.
- Oh, I know you will, sweetheart, - mechanical voice said in mock sympathy. One huge glowed hand came up to cup your chin, causing you to jolt violently upon feeling the contact; murderer tilted your head upwards, your insides churning upon laying your eyes on white plastic of his mask.
His thumb rubbed soft circles on your wet cheek - it was almost ridiculous how gently he touched you. This made you sob even more, but you didn’t dare to turn away, too scared to anger him.
- That would be a shame to kill such a pretty little thing, after all, - maniac said, glove-clad pad of his thumb swiped over your trembling bottom lip, soft cotton absorbing the mixture of your tears and saliva glazing it. - I may have an idea. Wanna hear it?
Silence set in for a few long gut-wrenching seconds which was interrupted only by your quiet sobbing and sounds of your boyfriend struggling against tight ropes. Quiet squeal tore through your chest as huge hand squeezed your cheeks harshly, yanking your face upward, forcing you to look up at König. Your bleary from tears eyes fixed upon two black holes in his mask, where man’s eyes supposedly were.
- I said “wanna hear it”? - slasher gritted out, his tone harsh as he put heavy emphasis on every syllable he uttered, making you shrink even further into yourself. You nodded your head hastily, not wanting to try out your luck any more.
- Y-yes, - you stammered, your voice giving out making your response sound more like a kitten’s squealing rather than human speech. König stared at you for a few long silent seconds, your knees beginning to tremble from both fear and painful exposure to hard flooring, which soon irradiated onto the whole of your body.
- I’ve been watching you guys, you know? For a few weeks now, - he said nonchalantly, his grip on your face loosened, long fingers tracing intricate shapes on your cheeks and temples, tucking a few strands of hair behind your ears, getting it out of your eyes. A wave of hysterical cries threatened to tear through your throat upon hearing his words, but you tried to suppress them as much as you physically could, staying still before him.
- Yes, - his voice sounded delicate - as if one of those passionate lovers who proclaimed their tender feelings. - Seen you guys do stuff… kiss, cuddle, fuck. A pathetic view, to be honest, - as he said so, his fingers came to tangle in your messy hair, massaging your scalp with soft movements. You felt sick. This man with a dagger bigger than your forearm clasped tightly in one hand, was caressing you so tenderly with another one - his unpredictable behaviour was making your guts churn.
He turned toward your boyfriend who was still thrashing harshly, struggling with all his might against secure confines of tight rope. Your gaze shifted towards your lover as well - the sight made your heart ache - his blood - some already caked and some fresh and shiny - covered the whole bottom of Paul’s face, a makeshift gag out of piece of some fabric was tied skilfully around his head - by the looks of it not to be untied by itself. His eyes met murderer’s, you could make out his muffled promises of killing the bastard, threats to not touch you and to get the fuck out of here. Murderer didn’t look impressed at all, staring silently at your man lying at his feet.
- Look at this pathetic scumbag - I tied your hands loosely, hoped for a bit of a fight, - harsh noise came from the speaker behind the mask, which you figured to be a sigh. König then turned back towards you, his head tilting to the side slightly, you could practically feel his intense gaze prickling on your skin. - Why are you even wasting your time on this piece of shit? He can’t even fuck you right, and you expected this piece of shit to actually protect you from danger? Provide for you?
Hot tears rushed down your cheeks at his words, as you stayed silent, not knowing what to say. König sighed again, rolling his shoulders to rid himself of the tension in sore muscles, his neck popping loudly, making you jolt at the sound.
- Now, my plan is - how about I show you what a real man is like? Set the bar high for you, hm? - he said, a cool glimmer of blood-stained blade caught your eye as König twirled his knife skilfully in between thick fingers barely twenty centimetres away from your face. He noticed your attention shifting from him to his little tool, softly nudging your chin up to look back at him. - Oh, don’t worry darling. If you’re being a good girl that thing won’t touch you, deal?
You nodded your head frantically, swallowing a thick lump in your throat. - Anything, - you choked out, voice hoarse and barely audible but it was enough for him to hear.
- I like the eagerness, - murderer chuckled, straightening his back from semi-crouching position to stand to his full height. His hand left your face with a small pinch on your tear-stained cheek, tossing his knife from one hand to another as if he was juggling; finally gripping the handle tight König pointed the tip of sharp blade towards your boyfriend: - I want you to watch. You dare closing your eyes and she’s dead.
Your eyes widened in panic, staring fearfully at Paul, mouthing silent “please” at him. Maniac shifted his attention back to you; he put his knife into its holster which was attached to his thigh with tight leather straps, you noted that he didn’t secure the handle, making it easier to pull the knife out in one move if needed.
You watched as if in slow motion how his hands came to the waistband of his black jeans, undoing the button and tugging zipper down, pulling front pants pieces apart. Your gaze darted up towards his mask-covered face, confusion mixed with terror written on your face - your insides dropped as you finally realised what he actually meant.
- What? Doll, I promised to show you what a real man is like, - one big hand came to rest on the crown of your head, not pushing nor pulling, just staying there securely. - Now I warn you, you dare using your teeth - I’ll pluck every single one of them before gutting you like a fucking pig, you get it?
Your breath stopped upon hearing his words, shoulders started shaking as strong bout of adrenaline rushed through your veins, making your poor heart pound crazily, threatening to break your ribs from the inside. You nodded your head vigorously, all of a sudden extremely aware of the tight rope binding your wrists together, how your fingers prickled from constricted blood flow, how much your shoulders ached from being pulled back for so long.
- Good girl. Now, go on, - König said, lightly pushing your head towards his clothed crotch. You had to crane your head up painfully because of the height difference between you two in order to even reach König’s private parts. You gazed up at him, unsure of what exactly he wanted you to do, but he just stared down at you silently, not offering any instructions nor comments.
You darted your tongue out, licking a noticeable bulge showing through his boxers, soaking black fabric in your spit. You did it again, and again, fear and adrenaline subduing feelings of humiliation and shame, you could hear your boyfriend’s muffled “get your fucking hands off her”, but König didn’t seem to pay slightest attention to the other male. You tilted your head to the side, pressing your opened mouth to the thick shaft that was trapped between man’s v-line and his tight underwear, sucking on it softly. That made slasher heave a deep sigh, hand on your head tangled deeper in your hair, holding you firmly in place, indicating for you to keep going.
- Now pull my boxers down, - psycho ordered a few seconds later; his voice, though contorted by voice changer, now sounded deeper. You looked frightfully up at him, your hands still bound tightly behind your back.
- But… how? - you asked, a spark of hope igniting in your chest as thought of him untying your hands popped up in your head. But it was extinguished just as quickly as it appeared with his next words:
- Well, think about it, - he shrugged his broad shoulders ever so slightly, your mind racing at the speed of light as you tried to figure out the problem.
You opened your mouth, moving as slowly as you could to indicate that you didn’t mean to do anything reckless - baring your teeth and gently hooking the elastic of his boxers, your canines grazing slightly against warm skin of murderer’s lower stomach. Once you secured your hold on elastic you pulled down on it, managing to slide it down slightly. König’s hard cock sprung right out, standing tall and thick against his clothed stomach - tip was concealed by brownish foreskin, and your eyes widened at the sheer size of him. Your attention was caught by two symmetrical rows of shiny silver balls running along mighty shaft, glistening coldly is white light of living room’s chandelier.
- Now, doll, that’s what a real good cock looks like, - man said, his free hand came to wrap around thick shaft, pumping it a few times to reveal pink head, a shiny bead of precum sitting in the middle of it. - Open wide, princess. And mind your teeth.
You let your mouth fall open, sticking your tongue out; his cock was standing too high for you to reach it in your kneeling position so König had to guide his length down to your lips, your mouth managing to only take his tip and a little bit more inside.
With your mouth full of other man’s cock your eyes wandered in the direction of your boyfriend; thrashing around seemed to finally exhaust him, crimson blood oozed out of the wound in his stomach. His chest was heaving in tandem with his wheezing breath, angry tears streamed down his temples as he stared with fierce anger at your abuser, the sight made your throat clench, causing you to gag on killer’s hefty length.
- Aw, poor girl is not used to a decent cock, huh? Tell me, did the even reach down to your throat? Lemme guess - he was cumming a few minutes after shoving his pathetic ten centimetres in this precious mouth, wasn’t he? - König chuckled darkly, suddenly pushing down onto your head, forcing you to take half his length down your tight throat, keeping you in place as you choked around his thickness, metal balls were rubbing painfully against the softness of your tongue, irritating sensitive buds of it.
Murderer’s free hand joined the one resting on your nape, gathering your hair in a makeshift ponytail, fixating your head in one position. Tears of pain and humiliation rushed down your reddened cheeks as man fucked his massive cock into your tight throat; his pace was erratic, without certain rhythm, making it hard for you to synchronise your breathing with his irregular thrusts. Your lungs burned with lack of air, dainty kneecaps ached from standing for so long on hard flooring, surely bruising your tender skin.
He let go of you only when you actually started to choke, your whole face reddening with exertion; thick strings of spit mixed with precum connected your swollen lips to glistening pink tip, fat tears rolled down your cheeks, dripping down your chin onto the floor below. A choked cry tore through your chest as massive hands manhandled you around, forcing your head down so that your wet cheek was pressed against cold hardwood facing your boyfriend, your back arched and ass up high in the air. König kneeled down behind you, backs of your thighs were touching coarse denim sitting snugly around his legs, cold metal rivets of his holster contrasting brutally with warmth of your skin. Broad palms kneaded on soft pudge of your ass, delivering a strong smack to the swell of your buttcheek, impact softened slightly by the fabric of your shorts and his glove.
Your boyfriend started thrashing as hard as ever, grunting and screaming as much as he could as König pulled your shorts along with your underwear down to your knees, huge hands resting on the bottom part of your ass, thumbs spreading your pussy open. Silent tears ran down from your eyes, gathering in a small puddle on the floor; you heard maniac tut behind your back, a pad of thumb swiped up and down your slit, making you jolt from sudden contact.
- What a shame, - he heaved a deep sigh, straightening his shoulders and looking up at your boyfriend. - She’s wet, dude.
A few small sobs left you upon his words. Paul tried talking back, but a horrible bubbling sound came out of his throat - gag in his mouth was completely red with absorbed blood, some of it oozed down the corners of his mouth, adding to the bloody mess on his face. You sobbed at the sight, squeezing your eyes shut to avoid looking at horrible picture.
- Turns out our little slut likes it rough, yeah? - König mocked, leaning over your frail form, one meaty forearm rested next to your head, huge chest pressed tightly against your back, overstimulating your thus on age senses. Terrifying mask was barely a few centimetres afar from your face as man whispered right next to your ear: - Did he ever fuck you rough?
His heavy gaze was fixed expectantly upon you, huge hand that still rested on your ass squeezed your flesh painfully, causing you to cringe. - No, - you mouthed, but that was more than enough for him. Slasher hummed in acknowledgment, straightening back into his kneeling position.
- Don’t worry love, I’ll give this pretty pussy what she needs, - psycho said, fisting his leaking cock a few times before aligning swollen tip against your tight entrance. With slow but persistent push of his hips König forced one third of his length inside your poor cunt, fresh dose of hot tears rushed from your eyes, pain of penetration adding to the ache all over your body.
With a sharp snap of his massive hips man forced as much of his cock as it’d go into you. Loud yelp tore through your throat, scratching it painfully; stretch of his girthy cock was too much for your pussy to take, ladder of piercings adding to unpleasant feeling. Tender walls fought against his thick length, such sudden stretch caused your muscles to reflexively constrict around him more, drawing a throaty groan to tumbling out of killer’s broad chest.
- There there, dearie. Poor pussy so used to pathetic cocks, can’t even take me whole, - König said in fake compassion, you felt his length throb within you, twitching a few times. Strong hands held you in place tightly, preventing you from moving your hips even for a millimetre.
Murderer generously allowed you a minute or so for your poor cunny to accommodate to his size before beginning to move his hips in shallow but quick thrusts. Soon enough König was full on fucking into you on rapid pace, your whole body jolting forward with intensity of his mighty thrusts, strong arms yanking you back in place every so often.
One of his deadly hands slithered around your ridiculously smaller form, index and middle fingers danced across your spread around his dick folds, causing your stomach to tense at sudden contact. Free hand yanked you up by the rope binding your wrists, urging you to raise your torso; your shoulder blades were pressed tightly against his heaving chest, warmth emitted off him like a fucking radiator.
Clothed fingertips rubbed tight relentless circles on your clit, causing thick pleasure to rush up and down your spine and your back arch uncontrollably. Your teeth clenched to suppress all the small sounds threatening to spill out of your lips; you felt König’s massive form shift behind you, cold plastic of horrendous mask pressed against the side of your face - he was whispering right into your ear, soft voice real and unchanged:
- I’m gonna slit your fucking throat if you’re not using it, - that caused a shiver to rush down your spine, arising goosebumps in its wake. You moaned out, doing as the murderer wanted, letting all the small sighs and moans flow freely from your lips, your voice lower than usual from all the crying and throatfucking.
Your breathing became shallow; your head just wasn’t working anymore - emotional shock along with physical abuse drained you out of all strength - you were a mere rug doll in psycho’s tight grip, and he could do whatever he pleased with you, you were too exhausted to fight back anyway.
Consciousness started to slip out of your grasp, vision blurred out with tears, dark spots appearing in the corners; König’s throbbing dick pounded your poor pussy mercilessly, thick cockhead nudged against all the sweet spots inside of you, his piercings stimulating you even further as if in spite of all your attempts to resist pleasure psycho was forcing onto you. A tight coil curled in the pit of your stomach, threatening to explode with every harsh snap of mighty hips against your reddened ass. Soaked with your slick fabric of König’s gloves felt overbearing against your clit, his fingers never once stopping to rub your sensitive nub.
A few moments later something deep within you snapped, like a rubber band stretched to its limit - suddenly the world around you turned white, ringing noise filled your ears as you had the most painful orgasm of your life being wrung out of you; your body quivered and thrashed in serial killer’s strong grip, unintelligible sounds and words poured out of your lips, barely louder than a whisper. And then everything became quiet. Soft velvet of darkness enveloped your bruised and exhausted body; you were drowning in warm waves of sleep, not finding it in yourself to try and fight them off. You gave in happily, trusting yourself in welcoming hands of darkness and quiet, afar from horrible reality, afar from fear and danger.
It felt as if your head was splitting in two - horrible ache settled somewhere deep inside of your brain, pain irradiated from within to the outsides of both hemispheres, causing you to groan in agony quietly in. Your whole body hurt, eyelids felt swollen and heavy even as they were closed; and then suddenly your eyes snapped open.
You were lying on cold hardwood flooring in your boyfriend’s living room, shorts and underwear still pulled down to your knees, but your hands now free from rope. You pulled your bottoms back up, hot tears pooling in your eyes as you let out a choked sob. You felt wretched, disgusting, dirty.
- Paul? - you called out to your boyfriend, the sound of your own voice startling you - hoarse and scratchy, total opposite from your usual octave.
As you turned around your breath got caught up in your chest, bitter ball of bile got stuck in your throat - you felt like you were about to throw up.
Here lay Paul - pale and lifeless, dull eyes staring blankly into nothingness, gag still fixed tightly around his head, now brown with dried out blood. Some of his insides spilled out of the gaping cut across his stomach, lying on the floor in a small heap right next to him, huge puddle of blood spread out on the floor, getting into all small cracks and gapes in wooden flooring.
And on the wall behind, in strange brownish color that looked all too similar to the caked blood on your boyfriend’s face, in sprawling handwriting were words:
SEE YOU SOON ♡
Slasher! König Masterlist
Another a/n: I’m planning on making it a series - let me know what you guys think<3 Likes, reblogs and comments are highly appreciated! Give writes some love - we live off feedback<3
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aceofpatience · 7 months
Text
🩶Sexual Intimacy with Your Soulmate → 18+ messages🩶💦
Hello, dearest oysters🐚
I have come back from the land of the eternal rest to bring you this kinda horny reading. [Warning: some graphic wording ahead🌶️]
I channeled the energy of your soulmate, how they perceive you and your intimacy and spicy times together in general.
Please leave your thoughts in the comments and as always: Shall we SEA??
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PILE 1. → blue rose
Your soulmate's energy: Cancer/Leo/Scorpio. “Who am I today?” Persistent but also a bit impulsive. their emotions are like a storm, an elemental force. They handle conflicts well, maybe because they are used to it. What’s important, they are not afraid of any uneasy, less pleasant feelings, they embrace it both in themselves and others. They are very wealthy, maybe even work in finances, but they are not stingy with their money, they like to share their wealth. There is some family drama going on, I’m sensing some rich but cold uncle vibes contrasted with the loving poorer side of the family. They had to balance between those two sides. They might travel and work a lot. Their awaited position at the top is gonna come and they know it, so they are not in a hurry, and work as much as they do because they actually like what they’re doing. They have a habit of cutting off past engagements if they feel they no longer serve them, it’s kinda ruthless tbh. They might sometimes change their looks but more often their demeanor, how they present themselves to others. It’s the change itself that drives them, not any preconceived goal or aim. They feel good among people, even in the spotlight they’re not shy. For sure they like engaging in discussions or debates - kinda ENTP vibe lol. They like intellectual chaos and challenges - painfully blunt sometimes but it serves them. Very deep inside they hide their romantic nature, one that longs for The One. Waiting for their special person to unlock their inner tenderness. Very all or nothing.
How they view you: Immediately found you attractive when they first saw you (purely physical). They like your boobs (or chest) xd. I’m feeling you might meet during summer vacation, near some body of water (pool, sea, lake, big puddle lol). You’re like chilling and sunbathing and they are like *eyes* *smitten* *wow* *mesmerized* *damn.* “Is this a Goddess?”. They view you as a bit mysterious, maybe even spiritual and kinda closed off. And listen to me, that’s important: BLUE FLOWER (maybe you will be wearing it or sth?). At first they might not see you fully and you might do some casual spicy action BUT this action will serve to you as a confirmation. Love will bloom out of that. You’re kinda a challenge, something sacred and they see how brave you are. They realized that you’re not as delicate as they might have viewed you at first. It not only impresses them, they also see you as someone on par with them. They like fighting with you, arguing (not toxic but just clashing ideals). Pretty quickly they start to see you as someone they want to start a family with.
Your sexual life overall: A lot of flirting. Netflix and chill (except not chill at all lol). Rough and fast sex, but you both can keep at it for a long time. I’m talking about destroying furniture around, that intense. During your first time they see you as a tease (and they love it). [Also your first time with them might be the first time with sex for one of you, but it’s not awkward at all. After it you both grow so attached to each other, you cannot imagine them leaving] For sure, you are both big on dirty talk during and after. You may call them ‘daddy’ or ‘sir’, any BDSM play is very likely. You can be switching between dominant and submissive. Also: public sex, screaming each other's names, mirror sex, period sex (fingering, fisting, pounding), bondage.
Extra messages: Some jealous ex maybe. You may make the first move (physically), but they catch feelings first. They can be a bit jealous of you (they see you as someone many people would want, which is both alluring and upsetting). Maybe there is an age gap. If they are a man they might have slightly longer hair. And again: blue flower, dudes.
PILE 2. → black tulip
Your soulmate's energy: “Way down we go” They are working their ass off. They are chasing their destiny, they have some serious rivals, perhaps family or coworkers or someone in close proximity. They have to fight inner demons as well as external forces, enemies. They are focused on surviving and feel the constant need to prove themselves worthy. They are highly talented and so strong mentally and physically but they underplay those strengths, they cannot comprehend their own greatness. They might be drawing or sculpting or sth else (artistic like an architect I think). They are the silent type but they are not typically grumpy, might be an awkward turtleduck kinda lol around people. They feel like you deserve better than them, even view themselves as a villain. You might see them as this deadpan jerk but later you will understand that they smile only with you coz you make them happy. So cute “I hate everything but you.” Also you may have known each other or even been actually together for a brief moment but all those issues lead to a split. So there might be some animosity between you two at first, some past grievances - kinda vibe of enemies to lovers (It’s giving modern Zutara xd).
How they view you: “Queen of Peace”. They really think they are the devil, poor baby lol. They see you as a soulmate immediately, an equal in every sense. This attraction and emotional bond is very balanced. As a form of reconciliation they might awkwardly give a flower aww. They might seem too shy to make a move but they will surprise you, maybe you make them more bold. They see you as a gift from fate, something too precious for their hands. They are afraid they will drag you under. They see you as this ideal almost magical creature, something too good for them. It’s like they are expecting you to realize this and leave them, but you manage to show them that you love and choose them. They also admire your inner fire and passion and moral code (you always stick to your inner convictions).
Your sexual life overall: A lot of embraces. They love to hold you close and finger you, kiss your neck, and admire you. They just love pleasing you. More than the sex itself, the real intimacy for you is when you’re holding each other. Even when both of you are consumed by this fiery desire, you’re so tender and sensual, you worship each other. They listen to you and know your body so well it surprises you (and they show it in bed and you like it a lot xd). In terms of sex, you might do it a lot standing up or against a wall. You will gradually prove to them you won't leave.
Extra messages: Security and affection. They might have a dog, or some pet. Also I’m seeing some facial hair. They’re like a puppy in love. Also: coffee shop meeting/date; they might come from a rich family, and you might be a celebrity, influencer, internet fame or sth.
PILE 3. → blooming peony
Your soulmate's energy: Family. Tradition and discipline. They seem to be the stereotypical “family man”. Once, they had this positive, kinda childlike light about them that brought people in but I think something traumatic might have happened. I’m sensing death in their close proximity, a family member who passed away and they may have even witnessed it. Their world view kinda shifted. They still care about others but they had to mature faster and their light dimmed. Now they are more closed off and come across as kinda intimidating or detached. They might try to scare people away a bit. But there is strength in them, they can easily attack and take a hit when necessary. They act like the provider and are very protective of their family (but not in a controlling way, they leave others the space to grow). They also might work in real estate or sth?
How they view you: Intense silence from them lol. But they know you’re their soulmates, they see you as this feminine mother, queen. Somebody very nurturing and soothing as well as strict and able to keep up with them every stem of the way. They see you as somebody SO talented. You’re their world, you can speak to their wounded inner child and you both talk about your childhoods a lot, able to open up to each other. They see you as their only choice, somebody they’re gonna marry and there is no doubt in their mind: “This one is a keeper.” They want to provide for you, they see you as perfect, they want to quit their usual routine for you. Make a change for the better.
Your sexual life overall: They love to give oral to you, eat, and drink you out. I see them kneeling before you, worshiping you - from your feet to your head (and the most important parts as well heh). For your first time, you might be dressed up nicely and they might sensually undress you - they are giving this vibe of a chivalrous knight that turns into a passionate barbarian lol. They like to do it from the back, gripping your hips or ass. You might also like to dress up for the sex, not only lingerie but also dresses/suits in general - fancy clothes.
Extra messages: Seahorse. They are very attractive, bulky or muscular (big frame). I feel you’re quite tiny compared to them. They might naturally have a high body heat. For them, meeting you is a fresh new start. Hurt/comfort. You might be more chaotic or energetic than them but you complete each other nicely. Also there might be some pregnancy or kids down the line for you. You will just create a home for each other, a safe space.
PILE 4. → Gladiolus
Your soulmate's energy: Cold and ruthless. Smug ass. Filthy rich. So powerful and controlling but still have this playful, flirtatious side, a hidden inner trickster. [VeRy masculine, devil vibes] They are not above playing dirty to get what they want. They worked their way up on the top, they are like a dragon that keeps hoarding up its goods, content in its victory. They are not the ones to get attached easily but when they do, it’s all or nothing. When they were younger they had this vibe of a cute little prince of darkness lol (they cared about their appearance and reputation - now they don't really have to heh). For sure they are big city people, maybe they live in some high building, high above the ground. Some family tension - they might be forcing help (money maybe) on to their family even when it is rejected, which creates some clash. But overall, they know they’re attractive and intimidating (when they were younger they might have been using it far more, now they kinda don’t care). They have a bit of a silver tongue - a skill they perfected over the years - but I feel even without it they would get by fine. I’m getting that vibe you might be working together or under them lol so at first you both tried to keep things strictly professional, but as you guessed it doesn’t work. They can be very intimidating at the first meeting, but I feel you won’t be as impressed with their attitude as the rest.
How they view you: They cannot stop staring. Everything they have built and gathered over the years suddenly seemed insignificant after meeting you and it might throw them for the loop (caught them off guard). “I have never met someone like you before.” For a long time they wanted to keep their distance from you (again, because of work and their personality lol) but once they saw you in this more sexual light, there was no coming back. They couldn’t throw you out of their mind. Btw, do any of you have slightly red hair? Just curious lol. You are kinda unbothered with them, able to keep a straight face, which ignites their want to pursue. That’s kinda specific BUT there’s a story I see → You work together, maybe on some less than fully legal project and they NEED somebody they can trust on this and you come through. You become partners after this and the bond becomes more founded on mutual respect. So they trust you, your judgment, decision making skills, intellect and see this more delicate, emotional side of you. That starts pulling them towards you and they cannot stop it - they trust you now and they never trust people. Before all of this you might have had some casual hook up. Because the attraction was always there and strong. But then the feelings came. uhuhu (you are allowed to be more in your feminine when you are with them). They might like showering you with gifts, especially jewelry. I’m seeing a black necklace. They will try to make you lose your poker face and show your true emotions, so demanding.
Your sexual life overall: They like to hold you down and see you squirm a bit. I’m seeing them hovering over you. Spending 30 hours getting freaky lol. A lot of missionary, long lasting sessions on the bed. Slowly undressing. Slow and sensual kisses. For sure you both like to take your time. They might even enjoy you being naked, wearing only the jewelry they bought you. You like to kiss during sex. They enjoy watching you play with yourself, maybe even use toys. You like to scratch their back. They like seeing you lose control. (Somebody might be into biting).  Before you got together you might have been looking up each other's pictures online and really enjoying them, if you know what I’m saying. If you actually attempted to keep things casual (fuck buddy situation), when you would be apart, you both would be painfully missing each other which comes as a surprise.
Extra messages: You both start to enjoy simple mundane things in life, something you rarely did before. Marriage is also possible, but for both of you it will be “How did I get to this?” moment lol. They’re such a smarty-marty and you both find each other SO attractive. I guess they are the leader and you are their right hand man (again, some work situation or sth like that). For some of you, you are both working in some law-related profession, or came from Harvard (random I know, but true). It may even be a past life connection (confirmation on you being soulmates). You might be meeting during winter time.
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marvellous1917 · 9 months
Text
Icarus Falling
(Part 2)
Pairing: mob!Bucky x female!tattoo artist!reader
Summary: It’s gonna be a busy day. Giving a tattoo to a mobster that broke into your home was nothing compared to the fact that you can’t stop thing about how fucking hot he is.
Warnings: lots and lots of swearing, mention of crime (duh), fights, broken bones, tattoo needles, threats, think that’s it.
Part one ⬇️:
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A/N: AAHHHH the response to part one was actually insane!!!! I hope this second part is good enough. Love u all <3
———————
Bold is reader’s thoughts.
Italics is Bucky’s thoughts.
The size of the tattoo is in inches.
———————
Walking to the shop, your thoughts were running a mile a minute. Holy fuck, what the fuck, did last night actually happen?, James Barnes is gorgeous and made falling asleep last night really fucking difficult, screw him for making me all hot and bothered. Asshole. But one persistent one came screaming to the front- how the fuck am I supposed to tell Frank?
Unfortunately there was not a lot of time to come up with an answer to that, the shopfront coming into view as you turn the corner. Jigsaw Ink stood proud in the middle of the busy Brooklyn street, the black paint of the walls in stark contrast to the pastel pink of the florists’ to one side and the baby blue of the cafe the other.
The shop was a second home to you, the couch at the front becoming a bed for you sometimes after a night out, or if Caleb was being an ass. Frank was nice enough to let you crash when you needed, trusting you with his business. Frank, and the other two artists at the shop, Billy and Curtis were like family - a weird combination of protective older brothers and best friends who were terribly bad influences on you.
The bell on the door rang when you opened it and there was a yelled “Y/N? That you?” from a deep voice at the back of the room.
“Yeah Frankie, it’s me. I thought Billy was supposed to be here, not you?” You yelled back, moving behind the counter toward your station, dropping your bag and taking off your jacket.
“He was, but he managed to get his ass knocked out last night so he’s taking the day off,” Frank replied laughing, walking out from the back towards you.
“What? Is he ok?” You ask, giving Frank a hug when he got closer.
“Managed to piss somebody off at a bar, not really sure what happened, but he’s fine. Just stupid,” he replied, patting your back as you release him.
“Don’t get me wrong, I love the guy but he is an idiot I swear, you can guarantee it was his fault as well,” you say.
Frank chuckle and nods as a response, “yeah I bet. Hey , you got many appointments today?” He asks.
Shit. How the fuck am I supposed to tell Frank Castle - literally the most protective man on earth - that I had to move all of my appointments to next week because a damn mobster broke into my house and demanded I gave him a tattoo today.
“…uh. No just the one, I had to move the rest,” you answer, praying to whoever was listening that Frank wouldn’t ask any questions.
“Why’s that?”
Fuucckkkk.
“Umm..no reason really..” your mind went completely blank, the only thing running through you head were those goddamn blue eyes.
“Kid, what’s going on?” Franks’ eyes narrowing, seeing straight through your bullshit response.
Ughhh. Change the subject right now. “Y’know you call me kid all the time, you’re not that much older than me Frankie. I mean there’s only-”.
“You’re ramblin’ kid. The fuck is going on?” He says, all sense of humor him from his voice.
Ah, there his is, protective Frankie coming in full force.
“Shit. Ok so here’s what happened-” you tell him the full story, coming home from work to see a dangerous criminal chilling in your apartment, the fear that came with that lovely surprise, Caleb’s debt, the weird philosophical conversation, the tattoo talk. All of it.
Of course, excluding the part where you found yourself extremely attracted to the fucking mobster, his weirdly slightly comforting presence, and the fact that the memory of those blue eyes where all you could see as your hand slipped between your legs before you fell asleep.
To be fair to the man, Frank listened to every word you had to say, not interrupting one. But you could see on his face every single emotion he was feeling, the main one being just straight up confusion.
“Lemme get this straight. The fucking Winter Soldier broke into your house last night and is coming in for a tattoo in..” he checked his watch as he spoke, “..an hour?”
“..yeah.” Hit the nail on the head there Frankie.
“Shit.” He says, rubbing his hand over his face in an act of desperation.
“Yep.” You say, patting his arm to try and reassure him.
“Alright, I’m gonna be here the whole time, don’t you worry about that kid. You’re gonna be fine.” He assures you, obviously worried about you.
“I know that Frankie, and if it’s any consolation, he didn’t seem all that bad.” You answer.
“Not that bad?!” He almost shouts, and incredulous look on his face, “Y/N he’s a fucking gangster. He’s fucking danger-“
“FRANK!” You yell, the only way to cut off his tirade before it starts. “I know that, but last night he didn’t do anything bad,okay, and if he wanted to hurt me, he definitely would have done it by now. I’ll be fine Frank, I’ll just give him the tattoo and that will be it. Now if you’ll excuse me, I gotta set everything up.” You say, moving back to your station, beginning to grab everything you need.
“Holy fuck kid, how are you not freaking the fuck out right now?” He whisper shouts, running one hand up and down his head.
“I’m not sure. I think…I think I trust him not to hurt me. It’s weird, but my gut’s telling me I’ll be fine.” You answer, starting to print some different sized stencils.
“Kid your brain is brok-” Frank starts to say but he’s cut off by his phone ringing. He pulls it from his pocket and says “Shit, it’s my kids’ school, I gotta take it.”
You wave him off, Frank answers the phone with a sigh.
He walks off to the back of the shop, leaving you to finish setting up your station. Frank talks for a minute and wander back towards you.
“My girl got into a fight at school, Maria’s busy at work so I’ve got to go get her,” he says, dragging his hands down his face, in a way only an exasperated father could.
“Oh my god is she ok?” You ask.
“She’s fine, but apparently she broke some little shitheads nose for picking on her friends,”
“Like father, like daughter then,” you respond with a laugh.
“Can the people I care about stop getting themselves in dangerous situations for like five goddamn seconds.” Frank says, throwing a pointed glare your way.
“Frankie, how many times, I’m gonna be fine alright, go get your kid and -I dunno- take her out for ice cream, tell her she did good.” You say, pushing him to the door.
“Only if you’re one hundred percent certain you’ll be fine.” He says, already pulling his jacket from the hook.
“I’m good I swear, now go!”
“Ok ok I’m going, stop pushing me” he says, leaving the shop and letting the door fall closed behind him, the bell ringing as it did.
Only a minute passed before your phone pinged with a text.
James:
Have you already forgotten about me that quickly doll?
Send me the address to the shop
Now… please
Fuck me. Why does just his text give me fucking butterflies. Ugh. How irritating.
You send him the address and his response is cheeky as shit.
James:
See you at 1 doll, you better be wearing something pretty for me.
Little shit.
————
You had the music in the shop bumping, using it to help calm your pounding heart, adrenaline starting to get the best of you. Your favourite song came over the speakers so you turned it up and started to dance a little, knowing that you had at least 10 minutes before Barnes turned up. Unfortunately this action caused you to miss the ringing of the bell on the door.
Holy shit - ink and a show, today is going better than expected already.
Bucky slowly let the door close, trying not to disturb the dancing girl he couldn’t get out of his head. He lent against the wall, just watching and waiting…and staring.
Shaking out your hands to get rid of any nerves, you turn and nearly scream when you see Barnes stood at the door.
“Oh god, sorry I didn’t hear you come in,” you say, subtly looking him up and down and damn he looks good. Ever the powerful mobster, he wore a black suit, his black shirt had no tie and was unbuttoned at the top. His hair was slicked back from his face, opposite to how it was the night before. This was the other side of him, the business man - James Barnes: the face of multiple charities, the man that law enforcement could never seem to put behind bars. Last night you met the threat, the assassin, and you may be one of the first in his history to survive a meeting with the Soldier.
“No problem doll, I was enjoying the show,” he says, pushing off of the wall and stalking towards you.
Oh my god, “oh..ok, well I have everything set up and ready so if you’re ok to start I say let get going,” you respond, turning to the part of the shop where your station was, nerves flooding back, wanting to get this over as soon as possible.
“Damn girl, not even any small talk?” He asks, slowly following you to the table.
“Oh sorry, I would have asked how your day has been so far, but I didn’t want you to think I was prying into your business. I wouldn’t want you to think I was being disrespectful ab-”
“Ramblin’ again doll, thought I told you that you don’t need to be afraid of me,” he said softly, sounding genuine. “I know what people say about me, I understand why you would be nervous, but I just ask you to not believe everything you hear, ok doll? I’m not who they say I am.” His tone was gentle, almost tired but still pleading, hoping you believe him.
“So you’re not a mobster?” You ask, voice low and calm.
“Oh no I am,” he responds with a small laugh, “I am, and I do what gangsters do. But I am not the ruthless animal I’m made out to be, doll I’m just not. I do what needs to be done.”
His voice breaks slightly on the pet name. His tone is so sincere and tired. Oh my..he’s telling the truth. It actually affects him to hear that about himself.
“Ok,” you respond, siting on your stool next to your station and the table, looking up at him with no fear in your eyes, trusting his words.
“Ok? That’s your response?” He asks, moving around the table to sit on it directly in-front of you.
“Yeah. What did you want me to do Barnes, not believe you?” You ask, all fear gone from your voice.
“Of course not,” he says, confusion laced in his voice, his eyebrows furrowed, “but I wasn’t expecting you to believe me immediately, shit you were scared of me like a minute ago.”
“I know but I think I trust you? You haven’t done anything to me, y’know other than breaking into my apartment. I trust you when you say you’re not someone I should be afraid of.” You answer truthfully.
“…good.” He says, at a loss of what to say next.
“Good. So, Barnes, are we doing this or what?” You ask.
“Yeah let’s do it doll, and please, call me Bucky.” He responds, shrugging off his jacket, folding it and placing it on the head of the table. You had to make a conscious effort to not stare at the way his arms filled out his shirt, but damn it was hard. He sat silently waiting for you to talk.
“Ok..Bucky.. tell me about what size and what placement you want for this.” You say, “I printed some sizes out because I wasn’t sure what size you wanted, and I can reprint or adjust it based in what you want.”
“Oh you a real professional, huh? Not gonna lie to you doll, that serious voice is kinda getting me goin’” he says, smirk on his face, leaning back on his arms, lifting his hips and moving slightly on the table.
Fuck me, what is this man doing to me? He doesn’t give you a chance to respond before he’s talking again.
“I want to get it on my forearm, the inside, and I think that size looks good,” he says, pointing to the 10x8 you printed.
“Ok that sounds good, which arm were you thinking?”
Silence. He stares down at you, an unreadable look on his face. You break eye contact and then freeze.
Shit. Shit. You dumbass. Which arm? Which fucking arm? Are you kidding? I can literally see his metal fucking hand. Oh dear god.
The silence between you goes on for entirely too long. You’re not sure whether you should apologise or wait for him to speak first. You weren’t sure if he would be offended, having a reminder of his injury.
He doesn’t move, doesn’t speak, just continues to stare down at you, that blank look on his face. Looking back up at him, you start to apologise but the words get caught in your throat. His eyes. He couldn’t control them the same way he did his face, tons of different emotions flowing through them, none lasting long enough for you to understand before another one took its place.
If only you knew what he was actually thinking. She asked which arm. She knows about my arm, everyone does, but she still asked. She forgot. The arm is all people see, a weapon, an instrument used to inflict nothing but pain. It’s all people see, but she forgot. That’s not what she sees. Maybe…maybe she just sees me.
He’s shuts his racing thoughts down, fully aware of how awkward the silence was becoming. “I’m thinking my right arm might be a little easier for you doll,” he says, an amused look crossing his face, his tongue poking his cheek.
You open your mouth to apologise for your mistake but he holds up his right hand and says, “and please, you don’t have to apologise like I know you’re going to, we’re all good darlin’.”.
He’s gotta stop with the pet names before I melt.
“Ok, uh, are you sure, because I honestly meant no disrespect or anything. I-,” you start, but Bucky cut you off quickly.
“Darlin’, what did I just say?” A stern tone coats his words and goddamn does it send a shiver down your spine. You internally roll your eyes and look away, back to your station, when you feel two warm fingers on your jaw, turning your head back to looks at him. Holy fuck. He places his thumb on the other side of your jaw, forcing you to keep looking at him as he leans in closer. His voice was low when he said, “That wasn’t a rhetorical question, Y/N, what did I just say?”
Jesus fucking wept. Somehow his use of your name made your heart pound, and the fact that his hand was so warm and strong holding onto your face.
“You said we’re all good..” you answer trailing off at the end of your sentence. His eyes don’t move from yours for a second.
“And?” He asks, tilting his head slightly.
Christ alive.
“I don’t have to apologise..” you say, eyes flicking between his and falling to his lips for a second and then back to his eyes.
“That’s right darlin’,” his eyes dropped to your lips, his tongue darting out to wet his lip. “So stop, okay?” He says, lifting your chin to catch your eye.
“Yes sir.” It’s an automatic response but you can’t help but be a little proud of yourself when he lets out a small throaty growl at the name.
“Careful doll.” He responds, letting go and leaning back, “How about we get started before I do something you regret, hmm?”
Like I could regret you.
You turn back to your station to try and clear your head of all the dirty thoughts running wild. “Ok.. Bucky, if you could roll up your sleeve so I can wipe the area, I’ll place the stencil and you can check if it’s where you want it to be.” You say, not used to the name he said to call him by.
“Mhm,” he hums, releasing the cuff link on his right sleeve, his prosthetic catching the glare of the light above, the plates shining. He places the cuff link in the pocket of his jacket and begins rolling up his sleeve and folds it at his elbow.
You clean the area and place the stencil straight on his arm, and peel it off.
“There’s a mirror on the wall over there, you can check if it’s alright.” You say.
“Okie dokie doll,” he responded the furrowed his brows, like he was confused at why he said that, not very gangster of him.
I like him. He says okie dokie.
“Looks good there darlin’, and as much as I hate to say it, we gotta speed this up a little, I’m expecting a call at some point around 2:30 and I’d prefer you not have to hear it.” He says, coming back to the table, sitting down and swinging his legs up onto it.
You take his arm, putting it on the rest in a position easiest for tattooing while saying “Why’s that? Would you have to kill me if I overheard your call?” You ask, enough humor in your voice for him to know you’re joking.
“Probably, depends how much you hear.” He said, completely deadpan. He looks at you and you have the strangest feeling that he actually wouldn’t hurt you either way.
“Shit ok. Is that position comfortable for you?”
“I’m all good darlin’, let’s go,” he says, adjusting his position on the table slightly. His left arm rests across his stomach as he sits on the table, leaning against the backrest, his ankles crossed.
“Ok I’m gonna do a small line so you know how it feels,” you look at him and he nods. You draw a line about 2 centimetres long then stop, “how’s that?” You ask.
“Ain’t nothin’ doll, keep goin’.” He responds.
“Ok here we go.” You say, getting back to it.
————
You’ve been tattooing for about 40 minutes, and there hasn’t been a word spoken between the both of you. His arm kept flexing whenever you moved away, and he kept clenching his jaw, like he was in pain but was refusing to admit it, even to himself.
“Are you ok? We can stop for five if you want a break? I’ve just finished the outline so I’ve got to change needles anyway.” You ask, disrupting the silence between you, moving the machine away from his arm so you can switch to a higher grouping for the blackwork.
“I’m fine Y/N, how much longer do you think it’ll take?” He asks, moving his head to look at the outline that you had completed.
“Oh it’s hard to say, but probably another 30 at least,” you respond, looking at him while he was admiring the tattoo so far.
God he’s pretty.
“Shit.” He says, rubbing his forehead with his other hand.
“Are you worried about your call?” You ask calmly.
“Not worried about the call itself… just having to do it here may cause some issues.” He responds, lowering his hand to his thigh.
“Because I’m here? I can go to a different room if you want?” You say, placing the machine back on your station, and turning to look at him fully.
“It’s ok doll, to be honest with you, nothing that needs to be said will make any sense to you anyway, and I mean that in the least offensive way possible.” He says, looking at you with apologetic face, tilting his head slightly. “But depending on the news I get, I wouldn’t want my reaction to… scare you.”
“Oh.. well I guess we’ll see when your call comes.” You answer, unsure of how to react to that.
————
The sharp ringing of his phone interrupts the sounds of the machine. You move the machine away from him, turning it off so he could speak freely without noise.
“I really am sorry about this darlin’, but it’s important-”
“Answer it then, it’s fine Bucky.” You cut him off, concerned he was going to miss it if he kept talking.
He gave you another apologetic look, and then turned his back to you to get off the table and answer the call.
You sat in silence as he started to speak.
“Rogers, what did ya find?” His voice changes from how he speaks to you, deeper and more serious.
The person on the other line speaks for a moment before Bucky responds, “we already knew that, didn’t we? What new information did you find?”
Silence.
“Of course he is..,” there is anger in his tone now, “get someone to tell the asshole he can threaten what he likes, I’m not sitting down with him.”
A moment goes by and you think that may have been the end of it, until you see his shoulders tense and-
“FUCK NO!” He shouts, making you jump a little.
“No Rumlow Gets Nothing, I don’t give a shit what he’s doing… Then send the commissioner a goddam gift basket Steve, some portraits of his family would be nice, remind him why he pays us the fucking protection fee.” He seethes at the man down the phone.
This should not be turning me on, shit.
“For fucks sake… Walker is nothing Steve, just some fucking Nazi junkie with a rich daddy, trying to get his hands on my shit…get Nat to bring his ass in, I’ll deal with it Steve… I said I’d deal with it.”
His tone on the last sentence sends a shiver down your spine, what the fuck does ‘deal with it’ mean?
“Ah shit is he ok?” Bucky asks, tone soft now, caring even, “Damn, he’s gonna be out for blood now.. good for him.. give Clint the week off, find the guys and give the pricks to him, let him get out some of his pent up craziness out.”
Oh Clint sounds fun.
“Ok, alright I gotta go now man. Yeah I’m at the shop… nah it’s nothing..yeah ya did… ok fuck off now.. later man.”
He hangs up the phone, takes a death breath and pinches the place between his eyebrows, his other hand going to his hip. He stands like that before he turns back to you, with a small awkward smile. That was cute.
“Sorry about that doll, hope I didn’t upset ya,” he says, walking around the table and looking down at you.
“You didn’t. I gotta ask though, is your friend or whoever ok?” You ask, not bringing up the start of the call where the man in-front of you all but admitted to a multitude of crimes - blackmail, extortion, supplying drugs. He sounded different- genuine when he asked if the man was ok. It was sweet.
“Clint? Yeah no he’s fine, got jumped last night so he’s pissed about it, but he’s ok, worst thing he got were some nasty bruises and a broken finger.” Bucky responds, confusion on his face, wondering why you care.
“How did he break a finger?” you ask, moving backwards as he sits back on the table.
“Oh he didn’t go down without a fight, clocked one of them on his way out,” he says with a small chuckle.
“Ah, good for crazy Clint,” you say with a smile.
Bucky let’s out a sharp quick laugh, “that exactly what I thought doll,” he says, leaning back and putting his arm on the rest, “ready when you are.” He adds.
Ok right back to it. Got it boss.
“Ok, should only be about 10 more minutes.” You say.
“Alright doll.” He answers, leaning his head back on the rest, tilting his head so he could watch you.
Ten minutes later you were finished, putting your machine down for the final time.
“Okie dokie, I’m all done. Have a look in the mirror, see what ya think,” you say, hoping he liked it, not much you could do about it if he didn’t.
He moves over to the mirror, checking out his new ink, twisting his arm around to see it fully. He’s silent for a little while before he says, “fuck doll, you’re a damn artist.”
“Does that mean you like it?” You ask, failing to hide the hope in your voice.
“I love it. Couldn’t have asked for a better one for my first piece.” He says, walking forwards to stand in-front of you, letting you wrap the fresh tattoo, handing him a leaflet on aftercare as you talk.
“You’re shitting me,” you say, “was that seriously your first one?”
“Yeah, why are you so surprised darlin?” He responds, tilting his head.
“I don’t know, just sorta thought you’d have them all over.” You answer.
“All over, huh. You been thinking about me naked doll?” He says with a cheeky grin, talking half a step closer to you.
Shit.
“What, n-no of course not, why would I do that. I mean I’m sure you look good - uh fine.. naked but I don’t-” you cut yourself off before you embarrass yourself anymore.
“No, no ramble on Y/N please, I’m really enjoying watching you try to figure your way out of the grave you’re digging right now,” he says, chucking lightly.
“Shut up Bucky, leave me alone” you responds, looking down at your feet.
“Hey,” he grabs your chin, again, and add pressure until you’re looking up at his eyes, “don’t ever try and tell me what to do, darlin, I don’t tend to respond well to it. I won’t ‘shut up’ and I’ll never ‘leave you alone’… I like ya too much for that.” He says, sounding like a mix between a threat and a compliment.
“Uh.. okay.” You answer, not sure how to respond to his words.
He can tell that you don’t know what to say, so he mercifully breaks the silence. “I love the tattoo doll, it’s looks amazing. You’ve got a talent Y/N.” He drops his hand from your chin as he speaks.
“Thank you, Bucky. It means a lot.” You answer sincerely.
“How much do I owe you sweetheart?” He asks, reaching into his jacket for his wallet.
That’s a new one.
“Uh, say $180?” You respond.
“$180? Damn you gotta charge more than that doll,” he says pulling some bills from his wallet.
He hands you the bills and says “now that’s for today and it should cover next time too, take half for now and half for then.”
You’re stunned by the fact that he’s already planning for next time but your jaw actually drops when you look at the bills.
They were hundreds.
“Woah I think you gave me the wrong bills,” you say, trying to push the bills back in his hands.
“No I didn’t, I know what I gave you. $180 for today, say $200 for next time and the rest is tip.” He answers smoothly, folding your hand back over the bills.
You look down to count and start shaking your head, “I can’t accept this, it’s way too much.”
“Consider it a thank you for dealing with the inconvenience of me having to do business in the middle of the appointment.” He says with a smile.
“Bucky this is 2000 dollars.”
“I know.” He puts up his hand again, stopping you from talking, “I’m not taking it back doll, just have it will ya?” He says, rolling his sleeve back down, doing the cuff back up with the cufflink and placing his jacket back on.
“Oh my god, you’re serious aren’t you?” You ask, unbelievable he wanted you to have over fifteen hundred dollars as tip.
“Yes I am.” He answers, straightening his jacket, “it also may be a small bribe.”
There it is.
“A bribe for what?” You ask, expecting his to ask you to keep quiet about his call.
“I want you to be my artist, anytime I want a tattoo, I want you doing it for me.” He says, smiling down at you with a hint of…something him his eye.
“Really?” You ask in shock, not expecting that from him.
“Yeah, like I said earlier, you got talent. I want more of you on me.” Bucky says smirking at the euphemism he made.
Fuck me running.
“Oh..shit.. yeah ok, that sounds..,” you swallow heavily, “sounds like a plan.” You smile up at him, trying to hide the way his words affected you.
He smiles back, stepping closer and closer until his chest is almost touching yours.
“Yes it’s does. You’re mine now doll,” he says, a dark look in his eye. You swallow hard again and your breath stutters at his words, eyes going straight to the floor. He notices your reaction and smirks, “my artist, I mean.” He continued.
“Although, judging by your little reaction there, I’d bet you be ok with that, wouldn’t you doll?” He says, his tone slightly mocking.
You say nothing.
He hums, then places his right hand on your cheek and tilts your head so you’re looking him in the eye again.
“Would you?” He asks softly.
“Maybe,” you whisper, a cocky smile breaking out on his face.
“Maybe, huh? ‘Mkay, guess I’ll just have to convince you then doll.” He says back, leaning closer, eyes going to your lips before he looks back up, giving you a chance to get out of the situation.
“Guess so.” You respond, some confidence back in your voice.
He hums again, and then he’s kissing you. His kiss is forceful but somehow still gentle, like he’s holding back as much as he can.
Fucking finally you can’t help but think as you move your hand to his wrist, the other one going to his left bicep, the feel of the solid metal under your hand was new, but not unwelcome.
His metal hand moves, wrapping around your back and pulling you against him, deepening the kiss when you gasp.
Reluctantly, you break the kiss when you run out of air. He leans back, the pressure on your back relieving a bit.
“Damn doll, what the fuck are you doing to me?” He asks, biting his bottom lip.
“Something good, hopefully.” You respond cheekily.
He groans, leaning his head back. “Yeah hopefully darlin’. I hate to say it sweetheart but I gotta get going.” He says, releasing his hold on you. He moves towards the door and for a second you think he going to leave without another word, until he turns back and says “I’ll talk to you later doll, keep your phone on or I’ll drop by.” He finished his sentence with a wink, and then he’s gone, the bell on the door ringing behind him.
Fuucckk. Maybe I’ll break my phone so he has to come by. Who knew the fucking Winter Soldier was actually a gorgeous softie under it all.
————
A/N: Ta da! Finally complete!! Love everyone of you that read this, mwah 😘
I can’t tag anyone else on this post so I will tag the rest in a separate post.
Tags:
@sleepyghostygirl @starlightaurorab @scrynexxtins @where-the-river-bends @imagines-of-the-fandom @bigenargy @uraverageatiny @squeezyvalkyrie @mylifeispainandiloveit @mrvlxgrl @bopbeepboopbopbeep @yvessaintmuerte @thecubanator2 @flubblubbb @teambarnes72 @ria132love @pingpongfingfong @cashhvi @rivthejellyfish @mybakubaby @blue-chup @goatsmcgee @facinated-lemon @daddylorianisastateofmind @buckybarnesb-tch @yeahimcrying @shifting2places @fand0mskullfa1ry @1-800-bxrnes @amiets2 @aliabhatt19 @leabunny @justmarlen3 @bofadeezs @jehduxi @grey107th @king-of-spades-aroace @sebismyhubby @princezzjasmine @sebastianstanswhore @cluckityduck @shuriri4life @calwitch @goodkittyspost @iateall-yourcookies @miss-i-ship-it @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @anawhitethorn @radiator-hands @tripletstephaniescp
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hhnguyen · 1 year
Text
aren’t you just precious
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Everything medical related was a google search, so those in the medical field please don’t come for me - I was a literature major for a reason 😭
♢ Pairing: Parents!Jake & Neytiri x Oldest daughter!Reader
♢ Word count: 2k 
♢ Genre: suspense, action, angst, slight humor - Warnings: explicit description of injuries, blood, cursing, reader is a lil crazy
⌲ Description: Your iknimaya goes a little south. Aka introducing the ‘demon ikran.’
M A S T E R L I S T
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Jake Sully, a marine veteran at the age of twenty-two had gone through absolute hell on earth before ever setting his disabled ass on Pandora. 
He thought he had seen the worse - comrades shot down right in front of his eyes, the blood covering their skin, blank dead eyes staring into his soul. Sometimes there were those who were actually blown to bits by bombs and grenades, screaming not even five feet away from him as they clutched their missing limbs, begging a nonexistent God for mercy.
Then there was his own injury. The pain he hardly remembered, because he had gotten to the point of delusion when they finally managed to drag him out of the war zone, half dead, and to the VA hospital.  
The incoherent words he had heard after waking up from his surgery despite his hazy vision and buzzing hearing at that time, yet the truth coming out of the doctor’s mouth had still hit him in the face like the largest ‘fuck you and your life’ to exist. 
“...ave severe spinal injury...fixable...expensive, marine.”
A severe spinal injury that was fixable but too expensive for a marine like him to afford. 
For an active man as he had been in the past, the thought of being paralyzed from the waist had been his worst nightmare to the point of being ready to waste away his life. 
Though even after all that shit, Jake Sully felt like he wanted to throw up as he stared at his oldest baby girl at the fresh age of fourteen laying there in front of him; delirious as he had once been in the same position, bleeding and bruised. 
He could only thank Eywa that your heart was still beating and your body intact. 
Well, mostly. 
The almost nauseous angle of your left wrist certainly did not look natural. And their bones were fortified, stronger than anything else to human knowledge. Yet it had managed to snap as easily as that. 
Neytiri - his beautiful, poor mate. She was distraught, one would say more so than him. Sitting only inches away from your fevering form in one of Hell’s Gate treating rooms for avatars, muttering prayers with dried tears upon her face. 
Your injuries had been so severe that not even the abilities of your grandmother, the Tsahik, could heal you solely through the spiritual power of Eywa. These kinds of injuries needed the advanced surgery of human technology. 
His other children were barred from coming inside, having been firmly ordered to remain in their village as he and Neytiri made sure that you would be okay. None of them wanted to keep them away, but neither did they want them to be traumatized by seeing your bloodied and broken form. 
A stark contrast from the smiling and proud sister that they knew. 
And yet, you had still managed to complete your iknimaya. 
Jake watched with a bated breath from the air upon Bob, his own faithful ikran through the years, as he saw the slight encouraging push Neytiri had given you on the edge of the nesting place. Your, oh so small form, looked firm and stubborn as you steadily stalked forward in a crouched form, the band for the beak held in your grasp with determination. 
He watched as one ikran flew away. Then another. And another. A third one. Fourth. Fifth. Sixth. 
He had lost count after the eleventh. 
You were getting frustrated, he could see that. Neytiri was still there, calling out for you to calm down. To be patient as he moved Bob a little bit closer, but not too much to distract you if you were to see him hovering. 
And there he was. 
Jake had seen it before you did. The vicious screech even reached him high up in the clouds and echoed above all the other ikrans. 
He felt his blood run cold as the midnight blue beast, nearly black in color with its yellow and green detailing jumped down from the highest point of the rocks and landed behind you as you whirled around with snarl of your own. 
But then as fleeting as it had been, you had grinned, taking in the magnificent animal despite its bloodthirsty aggressiveness. 
“Aren’t you just precious?” Neytiri had told him of your words in the aftermath. 
His mate hollered in encouragement, and he could hardly stop the prideful tug of his own lips. 
Rather than you leaping on the beast, Jake straightened up as he saw the ikran run at you as well. Both were only inches away from crashing, as you last minute decided to slide beneath its belly - slight enough to fit as you rolled away on the other side and then slung the catcher around its mouth swiftly before throwing yourself on its back. 
His expectations had been hopeful from that moment. Positive. But wrong, oh so wrong. 
Rather than trying to snap at you by turning, he watched in horror as the ikran seemed to have a human mind as it slammed against a stone wall, you hitting it first. 
Neytiri had screamed, already half leaping forward but stopping herself as she saw you still clinging to the beast. 
Both had thought that had been the worst of it until the ikran tried it again. This time deliberately falling backward to land on its back with a rumble, where you were hung on. 
“LET GO MA ‘ITE! LET GO!” Neytiri was yelling. Or begging. He couldn’t be sure in his own fear. 
But both of them underestimate you, as a growl mixed with what Jake had assumed to be a painful yell from yourself erupted. Legs manage to wrap around the animal’s neck despite being crushed underneath its weight. 
He saw belatedly you were only holding on to the banshee catcher with one hand as you pulled at its head hard enough to make the animal let out another vicious muted screech. 
And then you truly proved you were his daughter. 
“C’MON YOU MOTHERFUCKER. GRANDPA BOB WAS BETTER THAN THIS!”
The ikran had gotten angrier, trashing before suddenly rolling like a fucking bowling pin on the stone-covered ground. 
Towards the edge of the cliff. 
Neytiri ran, and Jake dove, both reaching out and screaming your name as you and the ikran fell off the edge. 
As his mate leaned almost desperately over the edge, Jake forced himself to draw Bob back up, only for a few seconds - not to interfere with the rite. But it was in those few seconds he felt like his heart had stopped beating. 
There was that familiar screech again. 
Then you were soaring. 
Up in a straight line, past Neytiri and him. Tsaheylu clearly made as the ikran listened to your orders. 
There was a blinding grin on your face as you soared, clearly looking for him and letting out a whoop. 
The moment your eyes caught his, Jake felt his grin slip. 
Your eyes, open just moments before suddenly rolled back. Your whole body went slack as you fell over the side, your newly bonded ikran screeching at the sudden weightless feeling as the bond broke and your body went straight down. 
Jake hadn’t heard his desperate yell, this time diving down without stopping. 
He thought you were dead when he managed to catch you and flew back up, only to have Neytiri meet him in the air on her own mount, an expression so clearly in distress. Without a word, they both made haste back to the village, your newly bonded ikran following closely behind. 
“How is she?” His voice sounded like it had gone over fifty years of smoking with no water. It felt like his whole body was weighed down with stones. 
“She’s alive,” that’s all that Max could offer with a grim expression. “She will need surgery. The momentum of her slamming repeatedly against stones with the ikran’s weight on top has managed to collapse a lung.”
Jake had never wanted to sob like a newborn baby until now. But he needed to remain calm, or at least sane. For Neytiri’s sake, and your siblings.
“Usually surgeries like these lead to long-term conditions in life, but we’re certain that with the Na’vi biology she will heal just fine without complications. But it’s the healing that will take time.”
He was nodding along, but it felt like he was far away. Only hearing a slight inconsistent sound in his ears as he watched through the see-through glass into the room where you were all connected up to tubes and an oxygen mask. 
It was so human, the whole situation of you being in a hospital bed for avatars - Jake wanted to laugh. Not in humor, but maybe in slight delusion at the situation. 
“Okay, okay…” he swallowed. “Anything else?”
His human friend was taking pity on him, Jake knew. 
Max has been there since the beginning. Seeing Jake growing his own family and now being placed in this position. “Besides the broken wrist and strained ankle, it’s mostly cuts and bruises. So she will have to wear a brace as well as remain seated for the next week or so. And check-ups every three days.“
“Yeah, we can do that,” Jake croaked. “When’s the surgery?”
“As soon as possible.”
Another nod. “Thanks, man.”
“Of course.”
He had to nearly pry Netytiri away from you as she snarled protectively. But he had to explain that she couldn’t join in on the surgery due to contamination concerns. The whole room had to be fixed to match that of a Na’vi body, the surgeons wearing oxygen masks as the space was filled with Pandora’s toxic air for your sake. 
It was an open lung surgery, Jake had been told. A risky procedure even on earth. It had taken four hours. Four hours full of anxiety and fear. 
But you had pulled through, Max said, Norm closely behind with a relieved teary smile himself. The man was like another uncle to the kids despite his avatar form. He had watched their ceremonies, rites and connections to Eywa. So to Norm, this was just like a family member to him. 
You had slept for a full day and a half after the surgery, still confined to the avatar hospital room before your eyes had fluttered open with difficulty. A cough erupted followed by your painful whine at the action.
Netytiri had hushed you gently, crouching down and stroking your hair back. Fresh tears fell at seeing you conscious again after so long, sobs breaking out as you flashed a sleepy smile at her. 
Neytiri had felt like Eywa had pulled the entirety of Pandora away from underneath her feet during the hours of your examination and surgery. Clutching Jake to her and never wanting to let go as her oldest baby was at the mercy of nature and your own will to live through. 
But she knew. 
You were strong. You always had been. And you had fought. 
Neytiri had never imagined a day when one of her biggest nightmares nearly came to pass. 
To lose one of her children. 
She would rather throw herself off the highest point on Ayram alusìng than lose one of her precious babies before their time. She believed in Eywa with her whole heart and soul and knew their beings were only borrowed and one day had to be returned. 
But Eywa would not take her children away from her until Neytiri herself agreed. 
Until that time, she would do anything to protect them. But to have it happen during one of their most treasured rites in life had prevented her from doing many things. 
Interfering for once. Because you had said so before as if knowing how horribly wrong it could go. 
“Do not stop me, mama. I can do this on my own.”
Of course, you could. And you did. 
Despite having to brush the doors to Eywa’s home yourself to succeed. 
And as your parents carefully helped you back home to the village after five days of observation at Hell’s Gate after your surgery, you couldn’t help but snicker despite the stabs of pain.  
Your mom had admonished you gently to not aggravate your wounds. Whereas your dad held back the roll of his eyes with amusement tickling the sides of his mouth. 
“Why are you laughing, flower?”
Your grin was shit-eating as you looked up at him.
“My iknimaya was so much cooler than Toruk Makto’s.”
“You little skxawng.”
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I feel like I lowkey pulled this one out of my ass, but oh well. 
taglist: @nao-cchi @eywas-heir @ssc7514 @spicycloudsalad @calums-betch @httpjiikook @ricecakeslove @fanboyluvr @iwaslikeblah   @the-wandering-pan-ace @avatarloversblog @eternallyvenus @enchantinggoateefox @arianapntn @heydemonsitsme @slyvixen1029​ @promiseofeywa @love13tter @directioner5life @bambisposts-blogs​ @melllinaa​  @sugarmummystuff6​ @lovekeeho​ @hai-kbai​
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kyunzin · 3 months
Note
I’m requesting true form!sukuna to ovetstim fem!reader while using all his hands to play with fem!readers body, if you have time of course-el🦋
I made time for you😘
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𝐆𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐢𝐦
pairing; true form!sukuna x fem!reader
cw; double penetration, manhandling, choking, after care
a/n; I hope you like it, I don’t know what I was thinking when writing this
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everyone knows that sukuna loves toying with you. his favourite little pet, not that he would ever call you that out loud, though if anyone were to ask who he favours the most you would definitely be the first name to come out of his mouth.
I mean could you blame him, your reactions are just so interesting to him, all the sounds he can elicit from you as he uses his hands to manhandle you into all and every position he wants. whether that be oner his lap, on top of his face, sitting you on his cock or just as a light weighted blanket when he is pretending to sleep.
he makes sure all his hands are occupied. one hand in your hair while you suck him of choking on his length the one other holds your throat making your job harder, the third jerking the section of his cock that cant fit in your mouth, he’s working on making be able to take all of it and the fourth collecting the dribble falling from your mouth to wipe it all over your face
your favourite position with him is when he has you riding his cock two of his hands doing all the work by lifting and dropping you on his cock at a relentless pace and with both of his hands squeezing and playing with you tits flicking your nipple and sucking one of them into his mouth. or when he uses his other two hands to either flick and pinch your clit or choke you.
his favourite position would be when he’s fucking you from behind, one hand on your waist while he uses the other to spread your ass cheeks as he watches both of his cocks disappear inside you looking at the ring of cum formed around the base of his cocks. the other hands are occupied with holding you upright and one of his hands stuffed down your throat muffling your moans.
the both of you especially love when he fucks you in missionary one hand holding one leg over his shoulder the other holding the other leg to the side, the third hand holding onto your waist as he fucks you into the sheets mercilessly and his last hand intertwined with yours. he even brings up your joint hands to kiss your hand lovingly in contrast to the way he fucks you like he hates you.
he even sometimes leans down to fold you into a mating press holding both your legs to the side while he pumps you full of his thick heavy load that’s sure to get you pregnant. he uses his other hands to hold himself above you not wanting to crush his pet pet. he enjoys this position a lot because it’s gives you easy access to his back where you scratch and claw leaving deep and heavy marks in his back which he is sure yo show of as he walks around shirtless.
your screams moans can be heard from miles away as he experiments on pleasures you, all the servants know not to disturb the two of you when you are together. or maybe it’s from the known fact that anyone who comes near you will be killed without thought, everybody knows of the servant that had hid head cut of because he felt brave and tried to peak in on the two of you sukuna only lifted one of his hands from your body and rid the servant of his life.
history will call the two of you owner and pet, sukuna likes to call the two of you lovers not that he would ever say that to anyone. it would ruin his reputation as the king of curses but when it’s just the two of you snuggled up togther after a rough session of fucking he’ll gently rub any sores you have with all his hands massaging your flesh and whispering sweet nothings into your ear until you fall asleep in his arms so long as your content he has nothing to worry about.
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𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
@riowmie @tyunixia
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bluejeanstrash · 7 days
Text
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inspired by this and this (sfw)
tags: idol! seungcheol x idol! reader, reader is a certified brat, brat taming, seungcheol and reader are hooking up, use of oppa and hyung, suggestive conversation | wc: 1.4k
⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯
seungcheol swears he’s mistaken when he hears the first paparazzi call your name. but there it is again, and again, and by the time the crowd is screaming hysterically, he’s sure it must be you. he turns around as he’s being escorted into the venue to see you on the red carpet, waving to the cameras, posing with a poise only a professional idol has. you look jaw-droppingly good, and he curses at the fact that he only got to see you for two seconds.
things work out in his favour though. he reaches his table to see a place card with your name on it. idols seated together. not a bad marketing decision.
unlike the vibrant red carpet, the inside of the venue is dim, a velvety purple hue painting the room, and there’s a dj whose set suits seungcheol’s taste. it’s nice being here after months of hiatus, and it would be even nicer if you’d get here quicker. your group and seventeen were contemporaries, and pretty good friends, though in the public eye it seemed like you’d barely interacted. everyone wanted to keep it that way.
finally, after what feels like hours, you walk in, heads turning as you make your way to the table. he checks you out, slowly this time, blown away by just how incredible you look. your dress is sensual yet subtle, and his hands are itching to feel the fabric, and you under it. you’re a few steps away when you pause, spotting him, equally surprised to see him here. you would rarely cross paths during schedules, so this was unusual.
respectful bows are exchanged before you take a seat. a waiter comes by to drop off glasses of champagne, and you take that as an opportunity to check seungcheol out. all black everything with faded auburn hair looks very sexy on him. you make a quick decision about what you want him to do to you in this outfit.
‘i didn’t know you were attending. just you?’ he asks politely, in stark contrast to how impolitely he'd fucked you the last time you met.
‘just me. just you?’
‘and wonwoo. wonwoo!’ seungcheol waves him down as wonwoo makes his way to the table, taking a seat to your other side.
‘hyung, they need you for some solo press’ he informs and seungcheol is escorted away by his manager.
in the 10 to 15 minutes that seungcheol’s gone, you make small talk with wonwoo, touching on agency-approved topics like comebacks, dance challenges, and the like. topics that wouldn’t cause an internet meltdown when someone would inevitably zoom into your lips and try to breakdown every word being said.
what you’d actually been dying to discuss with wonwoo was his latest fling, and why he’d ghosted them, but that’s filed away for another day.
seungcheol returns with a second drink in his hand, and message for wonwoo ‘wonwoo-ya, they’re calling you now. do well’ he encourages like always.
seungcheol takes a seat beside you, close enough to dispel any negative rumours and far enough to not get pulled into dating ones.
‘have you finished press?’
‘what?’ you lean forward, the music too loud to speak at a distance. he does the same, almost placing his hand on your thigh but he catches himself in the last second, closing his palm into a loose fist and resting it on the table. seungcheol repeats his question, and you nod. yes, you’re done with press.
‘there are way too many cameras here’ he recognises a few fans who run his biggest fansites, all “discreetly” pointing huge DSLRs in his direction. he has to be careful not to accidentally touch you. not to do something that makes both your names start trending tonight.
‘are you done with schedule? what are you doing after this?’ he gives your dress a once over, trying to figure out how to undo it. there’s a complicated knot at the back which makes him eager to try.
the corners of your mouth curl into a playful smile before you take a sip of the bubbly. the sparkling gold goes down easy, and your words come out smooth,
‘you’
his eyes widen as the gulp of champagne he’s taking enters the wrong pipe, sending him into a tiny coughing fit. his eyes dart around the room to see if anyone caught that.
he takes another sip to recover, regaining any composure lost. then he leans in, plump cherry lips brushing against your ear ‘don’t say shit like that when we’re in public or i swear to god’
he sits back, adjusting the fall of his suit, and runs his fingers nervously through his thick hair which bounces right back into place.
this time you lean in completely, seungcheol refusing to meet you halfway, your earrings dangling with the motion ‘or what? what’s oppa going to do to me? punish me for being bad?’ you have a dangerous lilt in your tone that makes his dick throb.
‘stop. it.’ he mouths a warning. as if that has ever made a difference.
to seungcheol’s surprise, you had turned out to be quite a handful. you were different from your idol image. same, but different. he’d liked you instantly when you’d met outside work at his manager’s party and one thing led to another till you both had hooked up. he couldn’t believe it. you were two of his favourite things — a brat and a nasty slut combined into one gorgeous woman, and seungcheol wouldn’t have it any other way.
though, right now he could, because at this moment you were a pain in the ass and a throb in his dick, both of which he couldn’t afford. it’s not like he could refuse to engage in conversation with you. how bad would that look? so he stays still, listening to whatever lewd filth you’re whispering into his ear.
‘oppa, you know that thing you said you wanted to try with me? you wanted to put it inside my…while you turned on the vibrator in my other hole? can we try it? please?’ you leave your words vague, his imagination running wild. he’s going to kill you. it can’t get any worse, he thinks, but then the music changes.
an rnb song. no, an rnb song that’s no. 24 on your blended spotify sex playlist. in a biological reaction that would make pavlov proud, his cock starts to stiffen in his pants from the very first note. he catches your eye, looking away instantly. this is bad. this is very bad.
in an attempt to hide the tent that’s pitching in his pants, seungcheol crosses one leg over the other, taking further precautions to cover his crotch with a drape of his arms. it’s clear to you what’s happening, and if it wasn’t obvious enough he starts bouncing his knee, moving it a million times a minute. he’d read somewhere it gets rid of an unwanted erection, but it seems to be doing jack shit.
you lean back, amused, smoothing a flyaway hair, and elegantly throw your sleek locks over your shoulder to reveal a hint of your cleavage. seungcheol has spent a lot of time in there — kissing, licking, sucking…and shooting cum on that strip of skin. you know what you’re doing. he knows what you’re doing. the waiter who just walked past knows what you’re doing. seungcheol makes a mental note to tell his manager not to book you both at the same event ever again.
he tears his gaze away from your chest, focusing on the table in front of him. how many overlapping stitches can he see? he counts.
but you’re not done yet. no, you want him riled up and pissed off. you want that vein in his neck to pop. you wonder if you can run the risk of sliding your foot up his leg. probably not, and yet a second later the point of your heel slides up the inner seam of his pants, making him jump in his chair.
his jaw clenches, his neck tightens ‘that’s enough, you fucking brat’ he spits, forgetting to lean in or hide his mouth.
you grin impishly, taking a congratulatory sip of your champagne. he doesn’t know this but you’re soaking wet, your panties sticking uncomfortably to your cunt. riling him up always made you leak arousal in anticipation for the impending punishment.
unfortunately, before you can get a teaser of what’s to come, wonwoo returns, walking alongside your manager. you’ve done your part, made your appearance, and it’s time to leave, he says. you say your goodbyes, first to wonwoo, and then turn to seungcheol who lets out a small huff of air before standing up. he smiles for the cameras and bows, glaring at you as you lock eyes and whispers,
‘you’re in so much trouble’
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fettuccin-e · 9 months
Note
Hey noodle! Congrats babe, you deserve it ☺️ what are your thots on “just a little more” and our messy boy Steven Grant? 😈
Hi Mona!!! omg thank you sm!!! and thank you for requesting!!! and for steven?? PRECIOUS HUSBAND STEVEN??? how could i refuse ESPECIALLY because i know this boy is filthyyy and fucking needy as all hell okay ilysm thank you again!!
Tags: Steven Grant x Reader, afab!fem!reader, fingerfucking (r!recieving), unprotected piv, riding, uhh squirting pls dont fucking look at me i am ashamed, overstimulation, light degradation, so much praise holy shit (w/c: 1.1K)
Prompt: "Just a little more."
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It’s honestly not that Steven likes to edge himself, or has some kind of fucking superhuman stamina in bed with you.
No, you’ve sucked him off in five minutes flat before, Steven twitching beneath you while he whined, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, fuck it’s so good, you’re so fucking perfect, shit-” while he spilled down your throat. Marc never let him live that one down.
But you swear that sometimes, when he’s got his face or fingers or cock buried deep, so deep inside your cunt, Steven forgets that he has to cum at all.
He gets lost in it, mumbling about how gorgeous you are, how wet you get for him, how good you taste. It doesn’t matter how many times you’ve cum, how you cry and wail with every orgasm he wrenches out of your heaving body, he just wants more and more and more. Ravenous.
“Steven, please, I ca-I can’t, oh please-” your pussy makes noises that are utterly obscene, squishing against his hand as he works his fingers into you, jamming relentlessly against your g-spot. You aren’t even sure what you’re begging for at this point; for him to make you cum again, for him to fuck you like you’ve been begging for, for him to show some mercy.
But even then, it’s like he can’t hear you, eyes focused on the way you spread and leak over his fingers, mesmerized by the way you clench around his fingers. He’s been like this since the first orgasm of the night, maybe the second, but God, he just keeps going. He keeps pressing soft kisses to your trembling thighs, using his free arm to brace over your twitching hips while he plays relentlessly with your aching cunt.
It’s too much, he’s been at this for too fucking long, God, you’re leaking everywhere, the bedsheets damp with it. He just won’t let up, your beautiful, treacherous lover, and your whole body locks again with the force of your orgasm, the squeeze of your pussy nearly forcing his fingers out.
His gaze snaps up to your face in an instant, and you can hear his voice through the rush of blood in your ears, murmuring, “That’s it, darling, my God you’re beautiful, so pretty, this pussy’s so tight for my fingers, imagine how it’ll feel around my cock, yeah? How much I’ll stretch this gorgeous cunt apart, right love?”
And it’s so sweet, so gentle, the way he speaks to you, a complete contrast to how he rips you apart with orgasm after orgasm after orgasm.
“Fuck me,” you whine, high-pitched and needy, absolutely desperate. “You- you said it, that your cock would feel so fucking good, please Steven, need-need you.”
But all Steven does is chuckle darkly, stretching his fingers out inside you again, and you nearly scream. “Just a little more, darling, one more time for me, yeah?” You can only clench your eyes shut and throw your head back into the pillows.
And when you finally wear him down enough to ease his sticky fingers out of you, you immediately roll him onto his back. If he’s going to fuck you, you’re going to be in charge. You’re going to be the one to make him cum.
You ease his cock into you, hot and throbbing in your hand, and you almost want to cry as he stretches your pussy so good, so perfect, just like he said he would. He moans beneath you, the sound ripping its way out of his chest, as if he’s suddenly realized how worked up he’s gotten himself by playing with your pussy for God knows how long.
You work your hips into his, plunging his cock into you just the way you know he likes. He nudges into your sweet spot just perfectly this way too, and the sensitivity from Steven’s earlier ministrations has lighting arcing up your spine with every nudge, every grind of his cock into your sensitive pussy. 
A mewl escapes you, unabashed and louder than you meant it to,  when you slam down on his cock just right, the hair just above the base of his cock pressed against your achy clit. Steven’s hands fly to your hips immediately, holding you there with an iron grip.
That look is in his eyes again, pupils blown wide and brows furrowed as he rakes his gaze over your quaking body. He punches his hips up, making his hair grind against your clit in a way that makes your head spin, his fat cock somehow reaching deeper into your pussy.
“That’s it, love,” he says, “let me make you feel good. Let me take care of you, fuck, you look so pretty like this, writhing on my cock like a desperate little whore.” Your eyes roll to the back of your head with his words, your hips working of their own volition, on pure instinct as you work his cock into you again and again and again. It’s like you can’t get him deep enough, bouncing on his cock just like he told you to. Making yourself feel good.
When you cum, Steven groans, his fingers digging into the fat of your hips hard enough to leave bruises in their wake as you clamp down on his cock. A shaky moan rattles out of your throat at the feeling, your body aching with exhaustion, your pussy too sensitive as you clench and pulse in his hands. You feel like you could shake apart with the force of it, wrung dry under his unrelenting touch.
“Look at that,” he murmurs, and you open your eyes to see his gaze trained on your pussy, and oh shit, his stomach shines with your wetness, the sheets soaked with it. You’ve never done that before, never-
“Fuck, you made me squirt, oh my God, Steven-” your body burns with embarrassment, and you start to pull off his cock in search of a towel, or something, anything to clean up the mess you’ve made of him. But his hands hold you firm in his lap, using an unseen strength that he keeps under his button-downs and jumpers, his biceps flexing in a way that makes saliva pool in your mouth.
“Don’t you dare, darling,” his voice is a rasp, all dark and ripped apart and feral. Fuck, if it weren’t for the accent, you’d think it was Jake. “One more time, sweetheart, just one more for me.”
“Steven,” you start, but he thrusts his hips up into yours, and the movement of his still-hard cock in your sloppy, sticky cunt makes you choke on your spit.
“Just a little more, sweet girl, just-” he thrusts into you, hard and unyielding, “one more for me.”
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crypticminx · 4 months
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Hi! I loved ur telling Felix if pregnant fic so could we get a p2? Maby e Felix helping reader a morning sickness. Just fluffy ❤❤
Hi my angel!!! here you go! Xoxo
Pregnancy with Felix ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡
AN: part two to my headcanons, very fluffy xoxo
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- Felix would grow to be exceedingly close and overbearing of you at all times–all within good reason, of course. You felt incredibly tired? No problem, his usual disorganized bed would be neatly prepped and cozy for you with a cup of tea waiting on his night side table. Morning sickness? He was behind you as you would throw up all of your unpleasant remains from the previous night, holding back your silky hair while he gently circled his palm along your sore arched back in soothing motions
- Felix would favor sleeping in with you even if that foolishly resulted in the ignorant academic missing his first morning class, but you were immensely important to him in comparison to his repetitive lectures. He’d wrap you deeply into his chest, entangling both of your legs and arms to construct some sort of warmth from each of your bare bodies. When you’d finally close your eyes to try and regain your interrupted rest, Felix would slide his hand down to just below your ribs and on your abdomen. Though you were barely showing, he could already feel some sort of connection to what was inside of you and it made him feel affectionately sympathetic. Most of all, it made him cherish you even more and from that moment onward, he was destined to continue to treat you in a way that differentiated him from any other sort of love you had ever received.
- It would be too soon for the two of you to move into Saltburn, a manageable idea Felix came up with on a whim upon the two of you trying to discuss the reality of your soon to be future that included a baby. Felix, who terribly wished he could stay with you to attend to your doting needs at every passing hour of each day, still had his classes to attend. You would carefully decide not to continue any further studies, withdrawing yourself from all your classes. Much to your angry parents dismay as they harshly yelled at you once the whole truth unraveled from your apologetic mouth through the lines of a telephone in an empty hallway. They were far away, convenient enough for you, but hearing their harsh tones of pure disappointment made you mentally feel like you had been hit by a bus; paralyzed with sadness among all your other unwanted hormones. Felix, seeing you shamefully walk back into his room was to the rescue as he tried his best to reassure you. There was nothing more he despised than seeing your pretty little eyes swell with tears that were caused from people who should've been supporting you.
- “Y/n, darling, look at me” he would softly cup your flushed, tear-stained cheeks, “I could pay for your education whenever you'd want me to, y’know?” You only nodded at him, sniffling as you felt yourself trying to keep it together. “In fact,” his dark eyes scanned the room before their full attention was back on you, “what do you say we go get a place together, yeah?”
- Felix was soon to follow in sharing the news with his parents and judging by the huge grin he sported on his gorgeous face after hanging up on the telephone, you knew that their reaction was eons away in contrast to how your folks retaliated. And with everything finally being put into motion, a flat just on the outskirts of where campus was located was hastily granted and approved to you and Felix. “Mum was practically screaming with joy,” Felix admitted as he ran his fingers through his hair, shaking his head in the process while his mind painted the image of his mother beaming with delight at the thought of a Catton grandchild.
- You imagined your flat to be cute, cozy and fitting, but this was Felix Catton we were talking about. Opening the doors after receiving the keys to your shared place, you were stunned at how breathtakingly modern and posh the interior was. A large living room accompanied with what seemed to be an extraordinarily comfortable sofa, marble stained countertops in a kitchen that was larger than your previous dorm room all topped together with 4 exquisite bedrooms. It was a strange feeling, not unsettling, but very downright gracious as you could see everything playing out as if it were a movie. Candles would be lit on the dining table, the mouth watering smell of dinner you just prepared would be flowing in the air, and there would be an eager infant placed on your hip waiting to be fed. As you’re about to feed your young, Felix would walk in, looking exhausted from a tiresome day, but happy to see the two most important people in his life.
- “So?” he would interrupt your thoughts as he could see you relishing the moment. “I love it,” you would breathlessly vow before Felix could only respond by lifting you off of your feet and cautiously twirling you around the hardwood floors of your flat.
- As the months would slowly start to progress and evolve into life with Felix, you felt at ease for once and being able to have time granted to you allowed you to focus on yourself and your pregnancy, making everything less complicated. You could take any given moment to rest and let your body prepare itself for your child. Felix would do everything in his strong willed nature to find the best doctors for you, being in attendance for every appointment with you, and always kept himself in line for having access to all of your desires.
- Changes–lots and lots of changes. Watching your stomach slowly swell outwards was fascinating and you had accompanied a new profound sense of gratefulness for yourself. Most of the girls your age would probably die if they had to say goodbye to their wardrobe of short skirts and tube tops, but that didn't matter to you anymore, what did was your baby. Felix, on the other hand, was constantly in a state of awe whenever he was around you. His protective hands were always placed on your bump, caressing it with the utmost care possible, all while extensively praising you. “So so beautiful seeing you like this, my darling,” he'd gently whisper in your ear as you laid on top of his lean body, enjoying the spell he'd put you under that was his touch. “Carrying my baby,” he hushed, kissing the top of your head, his fingers unable to stop themselves from stroking one of your sensitive breasts. “You're only going to get more beautiful.”
- With all the happiness, there were also many challenges that you faced. Feeling extremely emotional more days than others, it was mainly the rare moments that Felix wasn't home or around to embrace you with his devoted presence that made you feel like you were missing out on a chunk of events that you should've been at. Felix rushing in after a late lecture that took more of his daunting time than it should have, he swung by you, only giving you a quick pat of a kiss on your forehead, before he rummaged his tote bag of schoolwork away on an empty counter. “You're in a rush,” you observed as he changed his button down into something that seemed far more relaxed and calm. “Uh yeah,” he hurriedly spat, focussing more on fixing himself up, “Oliver and I were gonna head to the pub with a few of the guys, celebratory post midterm drinks and all that.'' Oh, you tried your hardest not to sound letdown by the fact that you would probably spend the majority of the night alone on the sofa continuing to read a catalog you had zero interest in. Felix wanted to hurdle himself to the front door, but feeling tension in the air that was so strong he could cut it with a knife, he paused and glanced at your face that was slowly becoming struck with sorrow. In response, he slowly padded his feet towards you. “What's wrong?” His tone was relaxed and not full of distraction. You sighed, feeling guilty for stopping him in his tracks, “I just feel like I've been missing out on everything,” you found your mind speaking out loud, too late in stopping yourself from speaking the truth. “I miss going out with you, being carefree and reckless,” you pouted, feeling like a fussy child. “Oh, sweetheart,” he took a seat beside you, “I can assure you’re not missing anything, in fact, I'd rather be with you all the time.” it was true, Felix didn't care for his past ways, he was more occupied in his life with you and he'd never trade that for any sleazy party. He rested a loving hand on your stomach, “this is far more important to me.”
- Felix’s favorite pastime hobby with you would be picking out names for your little one. Dressed in nothing but cozy knee high socks and an oversized T-shirt, courtesy of Felix, you would lay a journal just above your bump as your attentive ears would listen to all the ideas sprouting from Felix, smiling as his quick mind came up with more suggestions. “Genevieve for a girl?” he gave you a weary smile, not feeling too confident. “It's beautiful, but too posh and old, no? He chuckled, “mum would have a field day with that one,” he exaggerated his expression, raising his pierced eyebrow before rolling his smitten eyes. “So that's a no, I presume,” you giggled as you crossed it out with your pen.
- Your shared moments that were filled with ambience of love were your favorite times. Soaking every ounce of alone time you could get with Felix because before you knew it, the simple times would turn into long sleepless nights—and not the ones you favored the most with him. Felix would run a bath filled with relaxing salts for you to lay in as he would wash your locks and all parts of your body for you, letting his hands do the work as your head would tilt back in ease, letting all your soreness peacefully exit. The moments spent in bed mainly included Felix resting his head on your bump, freely talking to your child as his voice carried you to sleep. “I love you and your mum so much,” he kissed your bare skin with his soft lips, hoping not to stir you out of sleep, “daddy cannot wait to meet you.”
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zelmyna-dragonheart · 10 months
Text
I don't normally scream about other people's rottmnt au on here, but @somerandomdudelmao 's Cass Apocalypse Au is driving me up the wall, and I have words!!
Everyone who is reading the series knows it is currently in the process of Casey Jr. resurrecting his uncle/dad's.
Theory Time!
First off, let's go into why Casey can do this.
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Yes, Cass has confirmed that the memory spell that was used was mixed with a time travel one. Thus, using one's memory's as a gateway to not only traverse time but dimensions.
However, Casey Jr. is able to see spirits when he does this but also remains physically in the present - which leads me to think that he is being astroprojected across time and space as a literal spirit. Hence why he can visit his memories and the past without altering the events on a physical level. As a spirit, Casey Jr. can see and engage with other spirits in existence at that time.
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In the powers of spirit to spirit interaction, he is the only person alive who can literally pull other spirits through dimensions. With his body anchored in one time branch and his memories anchored in the other one, Casey Jr. Is the literal bridge for spirits to cross from one to the other.
No matter the condition of the spirit.
Theory #2
Cass has shown us F.Mikey communing with his ancestors when Donnie originally pasted on. It also was largely suspected the krangg could destroy ninpo and spirits.
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With the Hamatos, spirits and ninpo are consister linked if not one. So, of course, when Casey Jr. travels back to his past in his time branch and is able to intact and unintentionally pull Donnie's disintegrating spirit into and out of time with him; Casey Jr. effectively saved Donnie's ninpo. Immediately after his recuse, Donnie admits that his NINPO is in shambles and that he is doing everything in his power to hold it together.
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With this confirmation in mind, let's have a look at the conditions surrounding the other turtles' ninpos and spirits.
First off, Raph
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Raph's spirit and ninpo were perfectly healed and intact with in the robot body Donnie created for him. The only thing is that Raph's 'body' could be turned activated or shut down. Like a Fullmetal Alchemist parallel, Raph's soul, spirit, and ninpo are housed within a metal container. In episode two or three, when Casey Jr. found the robot, Raph was reactivated after an emergency shutdown that lasted YEARS.
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His ninpo and spirit woke up. Know that, shutting himself down again to allow his generator to be redirected as a power source would not kill Raph but rather put him to sleep. He would never die but remain suspended for all time, trapped in his metal shell until someone reactivated him.
This made Raph not only be the easiest but most accessible spirit for Casey Jr. to rescue. Raphs' spirit would have remained there, in perfect condition, for however long it took for Casey to get to him.
Now, let's look at Mikey.
This old mystic warrior was the most in tune and most powerfully adept with his abilities. Drained he may have been, Mikey said that opening a time gateway would use whatever he had left. His mystic powers and ninpo are linked. Opening the time gateway was a strain on his spirit, his ninpo. He was literally splintering apart as he opened the portal. In Mikey’s moment of death, he pushed the last of his ninpo in the portal. His ninpo burst like a firework.
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At this point of this written theory, Mikey's has not been rescued.
This leads me to speculate the condition and difficulty of said rescue for one Casey Jr. Mikey's soul is untrained by Krangg's chemical warfare, so it is not in danger of disintegrating but nor is his soul bound to a metal shell, his spirit is actually free to reform and rejoin his Hamato clan.
This leaves Casey Jr. vary little time to connect with Mikey's spirit. There is the option that he will witness Mikey's ninpo shattering into a million pieces. However, he may also be witness to Mikey's ninpo, in stark contrast to Donnie rapidly decaying ninpo spirit, pull back together. In glorious younger self. All golden and whole.
All that training and usage of his ninpo would have given his spirit and ninpo the ability to reform faster than one that was infected with a ninpo-distorying illness. This moment, where Mikey spirit lingers before ascending or choosing to join with his ancestors, Casey would have to approach.
Then again... Mikey could also rather stick around and wait for Leo to join him.
Option 2 is that when Mikey explodes, Casey Jr. would have to act fast to catch the ninpo pieces upon explosion. I like option number one a lot better.
Regardless, Mikey could be a time sensitive rescue. Mikey is quite literally a wild card in this realm.
This brings us to Leo.
Can you see where I'm going with this?
It's not a secret that Casey has related to Younger Leo about how his future self was a shield for Mikey's ninpo.
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F.Leo is shown to have sacrificed the use of his ninpo, or lack there of, to draw the Kranggs apparently one-time-use ability to lock or damage ninpo/magic on to himself to free Mikey to mystically blast Kranggs to oblivion. In contrast to Mikey's fully intact Hamato ninpo, Leo's utterly demolished ninpo is in full view for us to see .
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How it got way we can only speculate - but it may have been sacrificed to help Mikey originally and never fully recovered. F.Leo even claimed once, after using his ninja skills of speed to confuse and irritate Krangg into using that ninpo destroying sonic wave they have, that he had no magic or anything for them to destroy.
So here is the thing. If a Hamato spirit and ninpo are one in the same... where does this leave Leo's spirit? His soul? His ninpo? It's all in pieces, broken, destroyed. Claimed to no longer exist. But the pieces remain.
They are pieces in a container. Like how Raph's spirit and ninpo were contained in metal, Leo's broken ones were still collected together within his living body.
So what happens when Leo's body is incinerated by that krangg's beam death? Like his twin, Leo’s spirit has been affected by the krangg and was unable to heal. There is no holding himself together here. He is most likely already like clear glass like pieces on the breeze or scattering in the wake of the after math. Destined to fade from existence.
He's the most likely to join his Hamato ancestors immediately, but without the ability to pull his ninpo together on his own, Leo would take time to reform with the Hamoto Clans help.
If Casey is to save Leo's ninpo and spirit at all, he would have to find away to collect the pieces of Leo's shattered ninpo once the beam hits.
Another problem, if Kraggs technology has the effect of destroying one's spirit, Casey's astroprojected spirit could be in danger if that death beam gets too close. He wouldn't be able to save his sensai and himself if that is in the way and active.
Saving Leonardo's shattered spirit and ninpo would not only be near impossible, but a definite risk to Casey Jr.'s own spirit. Astroprojecting his spirit still puts put's his life in clear physical danger of coming in contact with spirit damaging tech. Saving any remnant of his sensai's spirit and ninpo is going to acquire a plan. Or dumb luck.
That being said... Donnie is our evidence that even in pieces, Leo could be saved. Casey Jr. would have to get dangerously close to the death beam. That or stand among the lingering pieces of Leo's soul as they float for a moment in the aftermath. In any instance, all Casey Jr. would need to do is come in contact with any of these spirit partials, and they would all be sucked up in to him.
Unfortunately, I'm not sure Leo's broken spirit would be overly responsive to any of Casey' Jr. 's concerned shouts, if at all. But Casey would be able to feel him.
On returning to the present, we know from Donnie that krangg effects are left behind. This would result in two ways of Leo being resurrected.
1. On returning to the present, Casey would scramble for the cloning tube and instantly deposit the ninpo fragments. Leo would return with a new body shell for his broken bits. In this case, Leo would probably be comatose for a good long while until his pieces, now cleansed from anything krangg, reform and heal in safty.
2. Leo's ninpo is too weak to transfer into his clone and takes refuge in Casey instead until his cleansed ninpo pieces find a way to pull together. Maybe with help from Mikey?
Also, could Casey house two Hamato souls at once? Since Mikey and Leo practically died at the same time.
Because to wrap horribly long theory thread, I would almost expect a spirit Mikey to tell Casey's to grab Leo first then come back for him as Mikey's spirit is safe in the aftermather of the death beam. If Casey housed two Hamato spirits at once (headache just thinking about it), then Mikey mystic warrior aspect could collect and even help mend Leo's shattered ninpo.
But in conclusion, F. Leo is the most at risk and dangerous Hamato spirit to rescue. Logic states that there would be a possibility that F.Leo may never get rescued and be a lonely turtle spirit with his ancestors after. However, this is Cass's Au and Donnie of all people is defying logic. So I predict that some kind of Dumb Luck option from above will be Leo's saving grace. I just feel Casey Jr. is going to have a few singe marks on his soul to tell about when all this is said and done.
TL:DR - Raph was the easiest turtle to rescue as his spirit was stuck in a tin can. Mikey is a wild card in terms of spirit condition, but saveable on a time limit. Leo is the most riskiest and dangerous to save with a broken ninpo.
Casey Jr. and Donnie have no fear.
Live on future turtles!
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takami-takami · 1 year
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OMGSHHA I LOVE YOUR BLOG UGHHH this has been on my mind for a little while but keigo breeding reader like crazy because baby boy is in a rut and can’t keep his hands of them he just wants to breed them so good he can’t help itt 😣😣❤️
Can't Help Myself.
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includes— hawks x gn!reader. minors dni. smut.
warnings— rut. breeding kink. biting. keigo getting lost in the sauce and trying (failing) to be nice. he can't help himself :(
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Your doting boyfriend has always been quite handsy, but lately Keigo's been... Excessive? Desperate, more like.
"Fuck— 'M sorry," he pants above you, eyes glazed over and bottom lip quivering as the tight vice of your body just won't let him go. His tongue feels too heavy for his cotton-dry mouth, his palms clammy as he paws at your chest, neck, hips— anywhere he can get his greedy hands on.
You both know exactly what he's apologizing for, though you don't think it's necessary. He doesn't want to be too rough with his baby, his sweetheart, his lovely darling; but how can he treat you with the tenderness you deserve when wrecking you feels so good? When every backstroke sucks him in like a vice, as if you're just begging to keep him inside and fill you to the brim? Just the thought of your body responding so earnestly, of it begging and ready to be bred, sends a sharp current down his spine. It's electric.
And it goes straight to his cock.
How would you look when he's filled you, he wonders? He can't stop his attention from drifting, can't stop himself from visualizing the look of your jaw slack, his name dripping from your lips as he pulls out and obscenely fucks his cum back into you.
The sounds it would make... The ring it would form around the base of his cock as he twitches and pumps load after load inside you...
He needs it. He needs it like he needs air to breathe.
It's quite the contrast to his typical giving nature. The thoughtful, attentive Keigo who's gentle fingers would bring you to orgasm at least twice before he even thought about undressing himself is long gone.
Gone is the man who'd whisper sweet nothings in your ear as he rocked careful thrusts to the rhythm of the kisses he'd plant on your collarbone, gone is the man who took his time in breaking you down into fits of pleasure only he could provide.
He wants to be that for you right now. Honest. He is trying, you know.
His restraint doesn't go unnoticed. There's a pause in his thrusts, a pained look in his eyes as he tries so desperately to take it slow. Each time his hips cant forward, a breathy "hah" escapes his lips and his brow furrows just a bit deeper. He can't push his baby too much, no, but fuck this isn't enough. Tears of frustration burn at his eyes as he holds every cell in his body back from what his instincts scream and beckon him to do.
God help him, he just needs to breed you for all you're worth, just needs a couple loads stuffing you to make him normal. He needs to fuck you like rabbits, sweet and slow be damned.
Little does he know, you've caught on to his predicament.
His breath catches in the cutest squeak when you fist the roots of his hair and yank his head to the side to meet your heated gaze.
"You want to be a good boy, don't you?"
Eyes impossibly wide, full of fearful adoration and eager to please, Keigo nods sharply.
"Yeah, I—" he fucking whines, leaning his head into the grip you have on his scalp. "Wanna be good." He blinks away the tears sticking to his dark lashes before looking to you for orders.
Pretty little puppy, you swear to god.
"My pretty boy," you coo. He shudders in response, melting and gooey in your grasp. Pliable. "C'mon, Kei', let go for me?"
He winces, shaking his head to free himself from the places his mind is going. He begins to rock his hips again, feathers trembling with barely concealed restraint. He tries to ground himself by mouthing at your exposed chest. It doesn't work.
You roll your eyes. Of course he'd be stubborn; but you know exactly what will bring him to his knees.
Leaning into the crook of his neck, you let out an unabashed moan directly into his ear. He goes rigid.
"Keigo, breed me?" His eyes open wide, breath stopping completely, as if he doesn't want a single sound blocking his focus from your words. "I need you, please— has to be you. No one else." You run your fingers up the expanse of his back, digging your nails into the tender skin. "Fuck me, breed me, do whatever you want to me—"
He can't take any more. He plants a palm over the headrest with a firm thud and fucks you with the speed and fervor of a man possessed, a man obsessed.
"Whatever I want, huh?" The far-gone way he slurs the words out has you shivering. You grip his shoulders for dear life, high pitched, pretty little moans settling in his bones. With each punishing thrust, they seem to get louder and louder. Music to his fucking ears, he thinks.
You're close. He can feel it in the way you're squeezing the life out of his cock— greedy for it. You're the perfect little outlet for all his rutting frustrations, and he just wants to take.
When it hits you, you feel the air leave your lungs. You hook your trembling legs across the small of his back, back bowing as you wring and milk his cock for all it's worth. "That's it, dove— oh, fuck me," his harsh pace never slows, even as you squirm and hiccup beneath his grasp. The fact that your orgasm is pulling him in, like your body itself knows that he's aching to fill you breaks what little restraint he has left.
"Take it baby, need to breed you— inside, inside," he practically babbles into your shoulder, his hips losing focus. He can feel himself throbbing inside you, pumping his hips as he chases his own climax.
When he finally finishes, he can't stop shivering and snarling into the skin he's latched onto, the very skin he's sunk his teeth into.
He does good on his promise, indulgently toying with the mess he's created inside you. Mesmerized, he doesn't let you waste a drop, pushing it deeper inside.
You let out a sigh of complete satisfaction, prompting a dazed chuckle from above.
"Oh, no. We're not done here, sweetheart. What was it you said? 'Whatever I want', yeah?"
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