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annabelle--cane · 7 months

Note

I guess the thing that makes me not so fond of Jon's addiction allegory is that it's only coherent to a certain extent? Like I think people sometimes forget that he's actively violating these people

anon, through no fault of your own you have accidentally hit upon my sleeper agent trigger phrase. I have layers of answers to this.

so first off, yeah, it's not a 1:1 direct metaphor, it's a soupy dream logic fantasy plot device with flavors of a lot of different things. there's quite a lot of addiction in there, there's some abuse of power, there's some cyclical nature of trauma, there's a dash of disability, there's a few notes of gendered violence, there's a good bit of just. violence violence and being kind of a motherfucker because goddammit it feels good to be an active agent about something in your life, even if it's just choosing to be a worse version of yourself than you strictly need to be. a lot of tma's worldbuilding is very allegorical, but apart from aspects of individual statements nothing really matches up quite 1:1 with a real world counterpart, and if more things did then it probably wouldn't be a fantasy show anymore.

secondly. okay to contextualize this answer a little bit I have a kind of hypothetical video essay project about vampirism and addiction that I like to spend a few hours thinking about every so often but am almost certainly never going to make because the full research burden required is a lot higher than I actually have the time to properly do. but because of that I've spent a lot of time sorting through why framing vampires as addicts really works for me in a way that it doesn't seem to for everyone, and I think a lot of my thoughts on that also apply to jon. there's going to be a bit of a detour here before we get back to talking about tma, but we'll get there, I prommy.

I've seen a lot of people take issue with various paranormal addiction allegories because, a lot of the time, the act that is meant to metaphorically represent the act of use itself is something that is directly and inherently harmful to others, e.g. drinking human blood, handing over power to your hedonistic Evil alter ego, holding the cursed amulet and going crazy going stupid, slurping trauma out of the head of some guy you ran into on a boat to norway, etc., and yeah, I do get that. substance use is not inherently harmful like that to anyone except sometimes the user themself, and addicts are not inherently fucked up and destructive people; those are dangerous stereotypes that often lead to the demonizing of a whole group of sick people.

here's the thing for me, though: those are definitely truths I want explored and represented when it comes to portrayals of non-allegorical actual addicts, but fantasy fiction isn't for showing the world as it is, it's for showing a subjective fun house mirror version of reality where certain aspects are minimized and magnified depending on how it feels to live through it. and yes, absolutely in real life drug use is not an inherently evil act and it does not make you an inherently evil person, but... doesn't it kind of feel like that? sort of? absolutely no one is living their best life nor on their best behavior while experiencing any kind of major mental illness episode, and when it comes to addiction you've got a very clear tangible symbol of when The Episode is happening that it feels like you have much more control over than when it comes to other illnesses. it's also a thing where people are a lot more likely to be openly angry and distrustful of you if they find out it's happening. so you mix together the ideas of "I know I get worse as a result of doing this one specific thing" + "I act less like myself when I'm using, it rearranges my priorities and I care less about hurting people because that's what happens when you're experiencing The Horrors" + "society at large/people directly around me are pretty quick to say that doing this is evil," and you get the subjective emotional result of "I hurt people by using and it makes me monstrous." I tend to respond to those kinds of paranormal allegories like they're just cutting out the middle man of those subjective fears. "using makes me monstrous" -> "using is monstrous."

anyway. jon archivist.

don't get me wrong, I totally understand if this aspect of metaphor doesn't gel for some people and they only like taking it exactly as far as the text explicitly makes them, but I really get a lot out of reading jon's connection to the fears as addiction precisely because he does genuinely awful things to people as a result of it. he's a person in a very bad physical and mental place with little to no support who is constantly being told by both allies and enemies that he's already a monster just by being alive, and he copes with that by secretly falling further and further into an compulsive act of consumption that skews his priorities and makes him care less about hurting people because at least sometimes getting to be the cause of pain makes him feel a little bit less powerless when he has to be the subject of pain the rest of the time. then he's found out and is made to stop, and he has to grapple not just with the physical toll of withdrawal but with knowing there is a not insignificant part of him that will excuse any act of malice if he knows he'll feel better afterwards.

the end of tma is very explicit in the fact that the rules of its world are shaped by the subjective worst fears of those who live in it, it's "an exercise in unreliably reality" as jonny sims put it once, and I think that principle extends backwards in some ways to apply to the rest of the show. I don't think the fact that there are only entities of fear and not hope or love is meant to be a full commentary on the total nature of the real world, it's a reflection of what fear and suffering can make the world feel like. eric and melanie both go to really harsh extremes to extricate themselves from the fears and live peaceful lives, and in both cases something happens that foils their plans (getting murdered + the apocalypse, respectively), but I don't think the intended message is to say that is definitively how real life works, they are metaphors for the limits of individual agency in larger systems and represent two types of worst-case-scenarios. similarly, I don't think reading jon as an addict implies that addiction inherently involves violence or that the reactions of those around him were completely unjustified, it's just a subjective exploration of the kinds of fears that can come with addiction dialed up to 100.

#also to be clear after the first paragraph I'm using 'you' in a general sense not directly to You The Anon Who Sent This #I'm not trying to insinuate anything about whether You The Anon Who Sent This does or doesn't have any experience w substance use #tma #answered #anons

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2smolbeans · 6 months

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"Nearly breaking down as you saw Marco softly smile at you. A smile you haven't seen ever since he found his 'darling'."

Part 2 Part 2.5 character info

Love Me, Love Me Not

Yandere Best Friend x Obstacle Reader

*unedited

Tags: kidnapping, complicit murder, guilt, suggestive tones, mixed signals, eventual smut, oneshot, reader is going through mixed feelings, one sided crush, yandere is in love with someone else, imprisonment, will they won't they vibes.

Disclaimer: This is just a scenario I thought of with an Oc! So nothing is really 'official' or canon-

_____________________________

One too many times, you should've called the police. Why didn't you though? Now you sit there on the shower floor, hot water burning your back as you try to warm up the chill that goes down your spine. Their eyes, oh god they were open and staring at you dead in fear. Why did you cover for him?

You felt the sob trapped in your throat rip out of you as you remembered all the horrible things you were complicit in. There was nothing you could do now but accept the reality. You wouldn't get caught. The two of you burned all the evidence, and sadly, the victims were easy to dispose of. Did anyone look for them? Was anyone curious about them going missing?

The guilt was heavy, and it didn't help that the person you did it for- couldn't give two shits about you.

Marco, your happy go lucky best friend. You remembered that night when he called you, in a panic, begging you to rush to where he was. Of course you went, you were so worried for him. Upon arrival, you saw the large bag and tools. The look on his face warning you to do as he says before he decides to have another matching body bag beside him.

"You trust me don't you? I just need help with this, and then we can be over with it!"

You should've ran, screamed, called for help. But instead, you just grabbed the lower half of the bag, feeling the dreadful sensation of its limbs. You heard a shocked hum across you before the bag lifted off the ground.

"This is why you're always my number one go to. I apperciate this, I mean it. I won't ever forget this. Now follow me 'kay?"

What a joke. It was all a lie, wasn't it? All of that just for some sick obsession. Just for his "girlfriend" to focus on him and him only. If Marco just pursued her normally like a decent fucking human being, nobody would've been hurt, lies wouldn't have been told, your friendship would've been intact..

He could've just told those once alive victims that he wanted to ask her out. If Marco just smiled at her like he used to smile towards you- you're damn sure she would've fallen for him.

It worked for you afterall..

Maybe you should've let go when you had the chance. Cause now here you are, fending for your life as the killer you once called a friend claims you're the very obstacle of their relationship.

What? But you helped him?

You're staring at her in the wrong way.

Are you fucking kidding me? Does he know how many times you cried. The nights you spent mourning for the dead and the friendship that once was?

He still cares about you. But you forced him to get rid of you.

That's funny since you're currently showering at his apartment. You can't leave, though. He's locked the doors and windows. He even went as far as locking the knife cabniet and potential weapons. Still with the shower running, you didn't flinch at the sound of the bathroom door opening.

Curled up in a ball as you sat in the shower, you finally saw the eyes staring down at your naked form. You couldn't read his face, understand his expression, or even tell what he was thinking. It was foreign, new.

"Hey. Are you done? You're taking up the water bill y'know?"

Oh right, how long were you there for? Awkardly, you tried standing up while covering yourself with what little your hands could hide. You hoped he would at least save you some dignity, but he just kept staring with a blank expression.

"Here's a towel. Dry up and come to the kitchen. I made us something to eat"

You thanked Marco as you were quick to wrap your body with the towel. Looking again at Marco, you saw a hint of dissapointnent splay upon his eyes.

"Okay..Well just-Just..do whatever. Don't take too long or else I'll drag you out myself."

Rolling your eyes, you pushed Marco out of the bathroom as you closed the door. Locking - Oh right, he removed all the locks to each room..Drying off your body, you put on the clothes he left for you. Eventually, you made it to the kitchen, sitting down on the chair as you watched him cook.

He looked so calm, so soft as he focused on flipping the meat. You almost smiled when you heard him mutter about how he spilled some oil on his shirt.

Eventually sitting down to join you, Marco gave you your food as he offered you a drink. You declined of course, not feeling thirsty and paranoid of whatever poison he might spike it with. Smelling the aroma of the food, you felt your mouth water. He was always a good cook, hell you remembered the first time you visited his place.

How he made you a nice cooked lamb with mash potatoes. You recalled it being the first time you've ever seen Marco so particular about a certain thing - even though he's always been a speradic and chaotic individual. Though, the quick realization of your perdicment made the food cold and unappetizing.

Biting your lip, you turn your head away as you felt your eyes burn.

Don't cry, don't cry.

You sucked it up. Inhaled the air that surrounded you and forced a bite into your mouth. The food was good, you couldn't deny it. But it didn't taste as good as it did before. It's good, you say. Nearly breaking down as you saw Marco softly smile at you. A smile you haven't seen ever since he found his 'darling'. You want to run away and cry, to start fresh and new.

"I'm actually glad you moved in with me, it feels nice talking to someone who's helped me"

With the murders?

"Hey, we finally reached one of our bucket lists! To be roomates! Huh, well isn't that kind of funny? And we didn't even plan it out- kinda just happened huh!"

He was just rubbing the salt in the wound at this point. Forcing a smile, you just continued eating, chewing your food as a distraction as he kept on staring at you. Where's his girlfriend? Why didn’t he just make her move into his apartment if you're in the way?

"Oh her? She's at work, don't worry about it"

You stop eating, finishing your plate as you push it towards Marco.

"All done? I'm glad you enjoyed it! Just sit right there while I put everything away"

Is there any way for you to escape? There has to be a way, right? What are you doing here? How long is Marco planning on keeping you alive?

"Hey, your not thinking of doing anything weird right?"

You nod your head no profusely, trying to get his suspicion off of you. Patting your shoulder, Marco motions you to the couch. Sitting down before you as he drags you along with him. Placing you on his lap, he turns on the TV- switching through channels while you freeze on the spot.

"Is there anything you want to tell me?"

Out of nowhere, his hands slowly begin to play with your shirt. His fingers rubbing up and down your sides, his crouch nearly pressing against you. Confused, you just sit there, your hands on your knees as you glued your eyes to the screen.

"You're not lying to me, are you?"

His voice is so sweet, so much closer than you anticapted. You nearly buck against his touch just as his palm brushes a certain spot ever so subtly. Why was he doing this? You had a slight speculation why - or at least a hopeful stupid thought that would fufill your old wishes.

"...If you say so"

You find yourself now sitting beside him, pushed off of his lap. Feeling the weight shift on the couch, Marco stood up and walked away for what seemed like forever.

"I just remembered I have to quickly run by to get some things. I'll be back.."

If like nothing happened, you were alone. Confused, you wave your hands around as you scrunch up your face. Talking to yourself as you pace around the room. Calming down, you walk towards the door. Examining it as you realised that Marco had left one of the security laches loose. Should you risk it? You could grab the butterknife he gave you for the meal to loosen the door..

Oh fuck.

You could perhaps finally leave.

____________________________

Part 2 coming up soon!

____________________________

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mitsies · 1 year

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reactions to you getting hurt ; jjk

how they react when you get hurt!

suguru geto, yuji itadori, megumi fushiguro, kento nanami, satoru gojo

; suguru geto -

‣ im gonna be real... geto wouldn't care too much!

‣ he helps you up if you fell, dusts off your coat, cracks a joke about you being clumsy and moves on!

‣ you need a band-aid or something? your leg isn't broken, you can grab one yourself

‣ in the case of a serious, life-threatening injury, though- he doesn't leave your side

‣ he's playing nurse, keeping you company and cooking your favorite dishes- whether you're able to appreciate it or not

‣ simultaneously encourages you to try everything yourself, is somehow convinced that independence = health

‣ he refuses to leave your side, he's seen too much death to risk it- he doesn't know what he would do with himself if you left him, too

; yuji itadori -

‣ yuji is, to say the least, dramatic

‣ you fell on the pavement? you are NOT allowed to walk

‣ treats it like you got hit by a truck and bounced off of a cement wall to land into the ground

‣ insists on carrying you everywhere he can, even if you hate it

‣ god forbid you have a cut that's bleeding just a little, because if you do you are getting rushed to the ER

‣ on the other hand- if it was a serious injury, yuji would blame himself, even if he had nothing to do with it

‣ he thinks he could've done more to protect you, and that he brought this upon you- as a result, he distances himself from you as best he can

; megumi fushiguro -

‣ megumi is concerned but acts like he doesn't care

‣ when you fall and cut your knee, he helps you up, and inspects your wound

‣ you insist it's nothing major but he insists right back that it should be cleaned up

‣ takes u to the nearest bathroom to do that & checks in on you every now and then <3

‣ if you got seriously injured, tho?

‣ he can't look at you. he can't stand to be around you. he throws himself into his work to try and forget because it just hurts so bad

‣ he doesn't know what would happen if he were to lose you, you mean the world to him

; kento nanami -

‣ nanami is the most normal out of all of them

‣ if you fall, he helps you up, asks if you're fine

‣ if you are, you keep on movin! if you're not, he helps further

‣ he trusts your capabilities as a human being, he knows you know how to take care of yourself

‣ should you get gravely wounded, nanami also diligently takes care of you

‣ you're his #1 priority always, and he waits on you. doesn't let you do difficult things, keeps you in bed if you're too tired, makes sure you sleep- he does it all

‣ i feel like he's less shattered than geto, though- he's hopeful you'll be better, he's gonna make sure of it

; satoru gojo -

‣ piece of shit.

‣ if you fall? he's got his phone on you, recording you for his stupid little social media

‣ "say a funny catchphrase so it goes viral!"

‣ if it's more severe, he helps u up, and if needed he takes you to the hospital

‣ (secretly very caring and concerned but hates feelings so he covers it with jokes and laughter)

‣ let's say you broke an arm or something: while you're getting treated, he's photoshopping a thumbnail for the video

‣ eventually releases a monstrosity titled ‘SECRET NINJA TRAINING GONE WRONG (3 AM) (HAUNTED????’

‣ the thumbnail is him gasping w hands on his cheeks and… u lying on the ground

‣ funny part is he photoshopped ur ass to look extra fuckinh fat. like

‣ it’s SWOLLEN like a dead whale. botched bbl era

‣ he says it was for the views. in reality, he was trying to get ur mind off the injury and make u laugh <3

‣ in the comments when someone asked ‘why did u photoshop their ass’ he says ‘??? i didnt’

‣ 'idk what photoshop is'

‣ 'is that greek???'

‣ 'omg wait i love ppl who can speak other languages'

‣ i hate u gojo satoru.

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kairiscorner · 9 months

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miguel and grumpy! reader having a makeout sesh in the control room but then miles & gwen catches them—so they’re rly shocked bc they thought miguel and the grumpy! reader hated each other 😭😭

yes. yes. YES. thank you for the idea anon >:)) OK I HOPE THIS IS AS GOOD AS THE FIRST TWO LMAO......

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

(part 1) (part 2)

summary: you had a little outburst in the control room, it kinda ended with a liability on your part, but it was nothing you couldn't fix. you just hadn't anticipated that miguel would come to visit you, see how you were doing, and... maybe feel your lips up a little with his own?

word count: 1,061

"well, this is unexpected." went a husky voice that you knew quite well. you didn't turn around, you knew exactly who it was–and as willing as you'd be to hug him since now was the perfect opportunity, you were not in the mood for it right now. you didn't ask him what he meant by 'this' being unexpected, you merely focused on the repairs that had to be done in the control room.

miguel placed his hands on his hips as he watched you fix up the panels you took apart from the control room. he sighed as he approached you and ended up a few inches away from you. "now i'm not even gonna ask anymore if this was the result of a freak accident or an outburst, but seeing as how margo didn't wanna elaborate on what happened... i can only assume what happened here." he said as he placed a hand on your shoulder, and he felt you were extremely tense.

you sighed as you put down your tools and looked at him. you had a look of fury in your face, but when miguel looked back at you with concern and sympathy for you... your gaze softened a little, and became one of disappointment. "...i broke it, but i'm gonna fix it myself." you said as you looked back at the practically demolished control panel. you rubbed your eyes as you shook your head. "i'm sorry, it's just, everyone kept bothering me today, and i... i just wanna hit something. it feels right, but when it's all said and done, i just... i feel like i was being more of a bitch than i meant to be, y'know?" you explained with a soft voice, laced with regret and shame.

you had so much pent up anger and frustration, and the worst part of it all was that they were all directed at such small, meaningless things–or small, meaningless things in the eyes of others, others who would never understand how small mistakes can be so irksome when you try your hardest to seem so put together and knowledgeable about everything because you're in charge.

miguel put a finger under your chin and shushed you gently. "i get it. i get it, you... you sometimes come off stronger than you intend to. and you know what, that's fine. we're heroes, but... people tend to forget we're human, too. hell, we even forget ourselves we're human." he said as he cracked a small smile up at you as you still frowned a little to yourself, at the shame you felt over your outburst. "again... don't get mad for wanting to do what feels right, not when you had no intention of hurting anyone and, like you are now, more than willing to fix your mistake." he said as he held your hand in his own. you slowly smile a little and chuckled slightly at his comforting words. "got it, o'hara." you said as miguel grinned at you.

after a while, he was helping you the best he could at fixing up the control panel–helping you replace and patch up whatever was salvageable. miguel admitted to you, though, he wasn't the most specialized in the field of technology, but he was here if you ever needed anything. he did as you directed him, and in a few hours, you two were mostly done. all you needed help with was for miguel to hold something down as you were screwing it down, and he did so, but... he did it from behind you, now it's like he's caging you in his embrace.

"alright, the control panel's fixed." you said as you turned to face miguel, whose face was now centimeters away from your face. he didn't look like he had any desire nor intention to move out of the way, even when you repeated to him he didn't have to lean against you anymore. "i know," he said with a sly smirk as your lips instinctively parted for him as he moved himself closer and closer to your lips. "why... you really know how to make the best out of a crappy situation." you said, to which he responded with a chuckle. "i always do when it comes to you, so of course, mi vida." he said as he wrapped his arms around you, evoking slight gasps to leave your lips as miguel locked his lips with your own.

you two had each other's tongues mingle with one another, exploring the depths of each other's mouths for quite a while–with no plan of letting go of each other, what with you clinging on to miguel by wrapping your arms around his neck, and his grasp on your waist tightening. he sang praises to you in between kisses, intensifying each and every one after he pulled away ever so often.

you two wanted that moment to last forever... but it ended as quickly as it began, when you two heard slipping from outside the control room's slightly ajar door. whispering came from the hallway adjacent to the room, and you two let go of each other immediately.

"holy–was that... was that seriously them? and–"

"i thought he had no emotions..."

"did we enter the wrong earth, or are we seriously seeing the two most horrifying spiders of the world make out right here right now after... oh i think i'm gonna puke."

"why were they–and you–why are we–don't they rip each other's throats out...?"

"what are you guys whispering about?"

"peter!"

you sighed silently as you grinned up at miguel. "i don't feel like telling stacy, morales, or parker off today, and besides... we need the day off, right?" you asked miguel as you rubbed at the back of waist, eliciting small groans of agreement from him. he chuckled lowly as he placed his hands on your hips and stared deeply into your eyes with a smile.

"definitely." he responded to you as he planted his lips gently against yours again, feeling the smoothness and softness that were your lips; the heavenly feeling of your lips upon his was one he wanted to feel all the time. he didn't particularly care if anyone saw you two, though it did embarrass him a little... he figured it's finally time to come out with what this little arrangement you two have got going on.

tags !! @thecoolerdor @miguelswifey04 @binibinileonara @luvstarrstruck

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara fluff #atsv #spiderman across the spiderverse #atsv fluff #atsv x reader #atsv x you #atsv x y/n #spiderman 2099 #spiderman across the spiderverse fluff

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yurinaa-world · 4 months

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Hi! I love your works!! Could you please write something about Blade, Dang Heng and Jing Yuan (separately) with a significant other who is like Kiana Kaslana?

Characters: Blade, Jing Yuan, and Dan Heng x Female Reader

Synopsis: s/o that's like Kiana Kaslana

Warnings: Fluff and spelling mistakes,

𝐵𝓁𝒶𝒹𝑒

Complete opposites of each other you see the world in high regard, protecting everyone needs to be protected while he, on the other hand, is the one causing the damage, he’s basically gasoline thrown into a forest fire, and that never ends well. you’re a saint and he’s a sinner nothing can change that since good and evil are always to be equals.

He is fine with how you think since it’s not like you'll change your mind and you won’t change him, but what does that have to do with your relationship? Your reckless thoughts call yourself, invincible all you want but did you forget you are a human? A human that's such an idiot, rushing into situations with a second thought, some people...

You jump onto him wherever you finish a fight while yelling his name so loudly (which hurts his ears a little) he can hear you normally so just stop yelling so loudly, and you not grabbing onto him right, have a tighter grip, or else you’ll fall off and then whine about it later.

𝒥𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒴𝓊𝒶𝓃

You show up at his office half of the time and just stay there waiting for him to finish his work, then drag him away to some new restaurant you want to try but also want to have him with you as well.

For how long he’s been alive for the longest time, you make him feel young, reminding him of how the first you met each other, back when you were kids and you were rivals fighting to chance to become better than each other (not like that still doesn’t happen at family game night: jing yuan, you, and yanqing all playing together).

You're still bratty and cheeky, that's the one thing that doesn’t change no matter how old you both get. you age like fine wine though, and look better and better getting older and older with your fashion changes but always making you look very beautiful.

𝒟𝒶𝓃 𝐻𝑒𝓃𝑔

You two are always so close with each other and want to stay with him all the time, he even tells you to go and not waste your time here boring yourself to death: like go have fun with everyone else but NO you going to stay here! because...it‘s boring without him.

You cheer for him when he wins a fight, “Whoa you amazing, you went like this and that” Imitating his punches and kicks, ah he can’t help but get a little embarrassed you didn’t have to imitate it! You look better when you’re the one fighting anyway so you shouldn’t be the one cheering for him. He compliments you on your fighting it improved since the last you fought, seeing your eyes light up with joy, if it makes you that happy then he’ll do it more, if he doesn’t get flustered before that.

He worries for you a lot since you’re all bark and bite, yelling and doing the riskiest things without a care in the world (not true since you always know the consequences of your action but still do it anyway) and has to get one of those backpacks with leashes yeah he’s getting that, he doesn’t want you to wind up in prison again for 50th time.

You guys

if you liked this, consider tipping me on ko-fi! it'd mean a lot!

#✧*:･ﾟ✧:･ Yurinna's Writing :･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧#honkai star rail x you #honkai star rail x reader #star rail #star rail x reader #star rail x you #blade x reader #blade x you #hsr x reader #dan heng x reader #jing yuan #jing yuan x you #hsr jing yuan #jing yuan x reader #hsr x you #hsr x y/n #dan heng x you #honkai blade x you

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darkbluekies · 11 months

Text

Hunted

Female!yandere!mafia OC x reader

Summary: you know that Jerry is insane ... so why did you ever try to escape her?

Warnings: unhealthy relationships, guns, killing animals and humans, bullet wounds

Word count: 3.1k

Jerry could realize her mistake of not locking the door to your room any minute and by then you want to be gone. With legs full of electricity, you hurry out of the room and sneak through the corridors, silently hoping that you won’t meet anyone on the way. Thankfully, the most trusted ones are still at dinner and the rest … wasted. You can tell someone lying blacked out on a couch with an empty liquor bottle in his hands. Quickly, you run past him.

The front doors have an alarm system that will go off once you open the door. You hover your trembling hand over the handle, preparing yourself mentally. The second those sirens go off, you have to run and not look back. You breathe out heavily. It’ll be easier said than done. You know for sure that the second the loud beeping starts, you’ll be so mortified that you’ll forget every single movement you’ve learned.

Finally, you do it. You rip the door open and the signals go off as planned. Without looking back, you run as if you’ve never run before.

The ground beneath you is unsteady, telling you that it’s most likely a forest Jerry’s been keeping you captive in. Your heart is pounding in your ears, legs burning. You can’t hear if someone is following you and frankly … you’re not stopping to find out.

You run until the sun rises and by then your legs are non existent. You can’t feel anything. Tired, you slump down with your back against a tree. With heavy breaths, you try to collect yourself and think of what you’ve done. Just two hours ago, Jerry took you to the bedroom of the secluded base. You had been forced to spend the entire evening with the most trusted mafia members, dining with them and joining in on a dangerous game of poker. You have never seen Jerry as focused as you did then. In the end, you had asked Jerry to leave, because of a ‘headache’. She had followed you to the bedroom and then left you … without locking the door.

“What do I do?” you pant for yourself while looking around. “Where do I go?”

No one will answer you, no one will help you. But hearing your own voice in this silent forest gives you some comfort.

You know you shouldn’t stay in one place too long. It wouldn’t surprise you if Jerry has put a GPS tracker in your body. You’ve always known that Jerry is insane. Ever since that day she decided that you would be hers. But you could never have anticipated how crazy she really was. If you ever met the devil, it would be her. Jerry’s ignorant, selfish and overbearing.

You sigh and pull the checkered cardigan closer to hide the scratch marks Jerry's acrylic nails have left on your body. They're a sign of dominance and ownership. Wherever you go, everyone around — including you — knows that you belong to Jerry. It wouldn't surprise you in the slightest if she put a GPS tracker in your body.

A loud bang echoes. Gun shots. You gasp and press yourself closer to the tree. Something falls in front of your feet. Quickly, you shut your eyes. When you dare to take a peak, you see a dead crow in front of you. It's bleeding from its chest and the black eyes stare right at you.

"Hah, got it!" you hear an eccentric voice shout.

You turn your head to see four men in their early sixties hurry in your direction. They hold hunting gear in their hands.

"Oh?" one of them says upon noticing you. "We're sorry miss/sir, we didn't see you. You're not hurt, are you?"

"No", you breathe out.

"What are you doing so far out in the woods at this time of day? The sun just exposed herself."

"What are you doing?" you return the question rather passively. "You could hurt someone …"

One of the men smiles and picks up the bird by its feet. You feel sorry for the little creature.

"We're hunters", he smiles. "Part time."

"We have to get away from our nagging wives one way or another", another chuckles.

The chuckle is warm and genuine, reminding you of your dad. You think that these men must have their own children and suddenly pity your father. Why did his child have to become the pet of a criminal? He doesn't know if you're alive or not. And you intend to keep it that way. The less your family knows about your whereabouts, the better for them and for you.

"You should consider yourself pretty lucky that we didn't notice you earlier", one of the men says and holds out his hand to you. "We would have thought that you were a deer."

You take his hand and he drags you up on your feet. You wobble and fall back against the tree, leaning onto the bark.

"What's wrong?" one of the men asks.

"Nothing, just … tired", you say. "I've been on my feet a long time."

"Get up on my back, I'll carry you."

You hesitate. "Are you sure?"

"I've carried two bear cubs over one shoulder, I can take you."

You climb up on his back and follow the four hunters back to their wooden cabin.

"Do you live here?" you ask.

"No, hunters can borrow it when they're out here", the man who first noticed you says. "As long as you clean up after yourself."

They let you rest in one of the beds and give you some of the meat they've caught. While you're eating, they tell you how they became friends in school during the 70's and stayed together until now. They tell you about their families, their jobs and pets.

"We're going home tomorrow afternoon", Phil — the man who took the crow — says. "If you'd like, you can join us."

You hesitate. Frankly, you haven't decided on where you should go or what you should do. Going back out into civilization could get you recognized, but staying out in the forest could mean life or death. You're safer in the city.

"Thank you, I'd like that", you say.

The morning after, the hunters leave the cabin for one last hunt. You lay still in bed and breathe in the silence. Finally, you’re left alone without feeling like there’s someone breathing down your neck … although you can’t let yourself fully relax yet. Somewhere out there, Jerry is looking for you and you know that she won’t stop until she finds you. It’s a scary feeling. You’re just waiting for the moment she has you trapped, like a mouse in a trap. But here, Jerry isn’t the brown little mouse … she’s the big, gray cat.

Your thinking is interrupted by four loud gun shots.

Your thinking is interrupted by small sounds outside the cabin. Sounds of footsteps.

“Is there anyone in there?” a man says.

“It’s a hunters cabin, probably hunters”, another voice answers.

“Shouldn’t we check? Y/N could hide in there anyway.”

You freeze upon hearing your name. Quickly, you get out of bed and sneak towards the window. Carefully, you look outside to get a glimpse of how many people have surrounded you. There’s five. From what you can see, Jerry isn’t with them. You decide to wait for a while before moving. Maybe they’ll leave. Maybe you’ll be okay.

“No, I think we should check it”, a new voice says. “I don’t trust that little shit one bit.”

Jerry!

You stumble backwards and look around for somewhere to hide. You crawl into a shelf under the counter and manage to close the little door just in time. You can hear Jerry’s shoes hitting the wooden floor as she walks around in the little house. Your heart is pounding in your chest, it’s almost as if you’re dizzy. And then … the footsteps stop. The front door shuts. You know that you can’t stay here. The hunters will expose you and you will put their lives at risk.

Right then, the door swings open. You’re about to scream when you see the same hunter who carried you yesterday. He’s bloody and the look in his eyes scream of horror.

“W-What happened?!” you gasp and hurry over.

“There were people shooting at us!” he moans and waves at her to come closer. “I’ll take you on my back. I’m scared they’ll find you too if you stay here. There are only the two of us left.”

Too shocked to think, too scared to disobey, you climb up on the old mans back. He runs out the house and you hang onto for dear life.

"Oh, you fucker!" you hear Jerry shout behind you. "I fucking knew it!"

They were still there? If you'd have known you wouldn't have left the cabin. Too late to turn back.

“Please hurry!” you plead the man. “Run faster, please! Oh, please!”

Jerry stops abruptly.

"What's the matter?" one of the men says in confusion. "Aren't you going to chase after? Are you going to let them go?"

"I'm not making a fool out of myself", Jerry replies shortly and picks up a gun from her pocket. "I'm not in the mood for a game of 'Cat & Mouse'."

"Are you going to kill Y/N?" another asks, horrified. "I thought you liked them!"

"I'm not going to kill Y/N", Jerry replies and directs the gun towards you, closing one eye to get a better view. "I'm going to kill that old man and take out my little shit my way."

She hits the man in the leg. He falls over and you drop before rolling over the roots in the ground. The air gets knocked out of your lungs. You hit your head and dark spots starts swirling around your vision. You lay on your back, trying to regain consciousness. Quickly, you grasp the situation. You have to get up, you have to run. If you run … you might actually have a chance of getting away. It’s better than to give up.

You get up from the ground, out into the crossfire. Jerry scoffs with a wicked smile. You’re tougher than she thought. She keeps her eye locked on you, gun directed towards your feet. One bullet should be enough to get you to stop. She pulls the trigger and watches how you fall over with a painful scream. Satisfied, she puts her gun back in her pocket and starts to walk over to you. You're trying to crawl by dragging your arms forward. Jerry snickers at the sight. She walks over and grabs a fistful of your hair, lifting your chin up from the ground.

"Don't try to crawl now, little mouse", she smirks. "I've got you in my trap. Look at the man beside you. Look at him. Do you fell happy that you put his life on the line?"

One of her men shoots the man to death while she forces you to watch. Jerry pulls your head back even more. You glare at her with tears in your eyes.

“Leave me alone!” you scream at her and moan in pain.

Jerry glances down at your feet and hums. Your left foot is leaking red. She lets go of your hair and signals for two of her men to pick you up. They grab your arms, lifting you swiftly.

"You're not a very good partner, Y/N", she says jokingly and squeezes your cheeks with one hand. "Running around from me and hanging out with older men. Dear God. If you'd just have gone to bed like a good pet, neither of us would be here now."

You don't answer. If you do, you'll have to pay for it.

The men carry you to Jerry's black van and throw you in the back. Jerry jumps in and holds you in her arms as the van drives off. Your head rests in her lap. You can feel her nails digging into your body as she holds you still when the van bumps. Your head is spinning from the injury, you're not sure how much blood you've lost.

Jerry watches how your eyes flutter shut.

"Y/N?" she asks and shakes you when you don't respond. "Y/N!"

She looks down at your foot and hisses. Quickly, she removes her black zip-up hoodie and ties it tightly around your ankle where the bullet wound is. She holds your face in her hands, caressing it softly.

"Don't be so dramatic", she whispers. "It's just … i-it's just a bullet wound. In the foot, not anywhere brutal. You've survived worse."

She leans down and places a peck on your forehead. In the corner of her eyes, she can tell that one of the drivers is glancing at her in the rear view mirror.

"Keep your fucking eyes on the road before I pluck them put with tweezers", she spits. "You have no business looking at what I'm doing here."

She can feel her cheeks burning as she looks back at you. If those men ever talk about this she's going to decapitate them with a butter knife.

She takes out the bullet herself once you return to the base. Two men lie you down on a table and Jerry gets to work. You’re still unconscious, which she thinks is only for the best. You’ll not have to witness the bloody scene that unfolds … or feel it, for that matter. Jerry works fast to remove the bullet and cover your ankle and foot in clean, white bandage.

"Carry them to the bedroom", she orders one of the men.

A man picks you up in his arms and carries you through the corridors to the same room you escaped from just a day earlier. Jerry places you straight on your back with your foot on a pillow. She tucks you in, making sure that all limbs are covered by blankets.

“Do you want to stay here?” the man asks. “I can tell the boss that you’re in need of solitude.”

“If you say that, you’ll make me sound like a fair maiden”, Jerry mutters. “Don’t tell him that. Tell him I need to punish my filthy, little runaway.”

“Whatever you want, Jerry.”

With that said, he leaves. Jerry sits down on the side of your bed and takes one of your hands in hers. She examines your knuckles, silently wanting them on her. Your touch is the only thing that can tame her. Without you, she’s wild. Carefully, she lifts your hand to her lips, kissing it.

“Jerry?” your voice says quietly.

“Hm?” she asks and lowers your hand.

“W-What … what did you do to me? Did … d-did you shoot me?! It hurts …”

Your eyes are full of tears. Jerry frowns, squeezing your hands tighter.

“I had to”, she answers. “You disobeyed me. You ran away from me. I had to make sure you wouldn’t do it again. You belong to me. I fucking need you.”

“But did you have to shoot me?” you whimper.

“Your little legs have a life of their own and they don’t care about your well being. If I’d let your legs keep running, you’d be dead. Now, you need to keep your leg straight, don’t sleep on your side or your stomach. You should stay in bed for a while with your foot on this pillow.” She smiles slightly, thinking. “As long as you’re bedridden I can keep an easy eye on you.”

You grimace. “I hate you and everything you do to me.”

Jerry chuckles. “You and your foul mouth, baby. I’m going to go get something for you to eat and when I come back, you better apologize. If you know what’s good for you.”

Jerry stands up and leaves, closing the door behind her. You sigh out annoyed. Jerry will be the death of you — figuratively and literally. You glance towards the (not locked) door. You can’t get in more trouble than you already am. Quickly, you get out of the bed and jump on one foot to the door. You only have time to open it and limp out into the corridor before Jerry’s back, holding a microwaved pan pizza on a plate in her hands. You expect her to frown, to make any type of angry face … but she smirks.

“Oh, you are so fucked, Y/N”, she says. “Get back in bed. Now. Before I shoot your other foot too.”

You gulp and glare before you turn around and limp back to the bed. Jerry closes the door behind her.

“Now, what do you say?” she says tauntingly. “Are you going to apologize for saying that you hate me … and for trying to run away a second time?”

“Not a chance.”

The sweet smell of melted cheese and pepperoni and the stinging pain of a bullet wound clashes. You haven’t eaten all day.

“Hating me won’t get you what you want”, Jerry reminds you.

“Even if I apologize, I won’t get what I want … you hurt me, you killed the men helping me … they were innocent”, you say quietly.

“You should be happy that I didn’t do more for what you did, Y/N. I give you everything I have, I do my best to give you the love I have … and it’s a fucked up type of love, I know, but at least I don’t pretend to be better than I am. You always know where you have me.”

You don’t answer. Jerry sighs heavily and lifts the pizza in her hand.

“Fine, don’t apologize then”, she says and holds the plate to you. “Take it. I’m not eating a cold pizza and it’s cooling down so … eat it.”

You take a bite and almost burn your tongue on the pizza slice and glance up at Jerry’s eyes. She doesn’t meet yours.

“Jerry … the pizza is burning hot”, you whisper, frowning.

“Well … now you’ve started eating it … just eat the rest”, she mutters and shrugs.

“O-Oh, I see … thank you, Jerry.”

“Mhm.” She stands up. “Sleep now. I’ll be back later to make sure you’re still here. If you’re not, I’ll raise Hell. Trust me.” She walks to the door and stops. “I’m only nice to you because you’re hurt. Don’t get used to it.”

With that said, she walks out and locks the door. And so, you’re back on square one, with less than you had before … and lives on your consciousness. You gulp. Oh, how you hate Jerry for what she’s done. And oh, how much you hate that she’s the only one that forgives and forgets the troubles you put yourself in — the only one who stays by your side no matter what.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere drabbles #yandere fics #yandere oc x you #yandere mafia #yandere stories #female yandere #yandere oc x reader #yandere x yn #yandere x y/n #yandere x darling

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becauseicantthinkwritings · 6 months

Text

Nightfall (3)

Vampire! Billy Russo x Female Reader

Part 1 // Part 2

Warnings: Bickering, spanking, biting, consumption of blood, oral (M receiving), implication of dark themes (such as the buying/selling of humans for blood), reader goes undercover as Billy's 'pet'.

A/N: Overall, the themes are a little darker than I tend to write. I'll try my best to be as honest as possible with the warnings.

You shove him back, hand wrapping around his throat as if you could ever conceive of doing any real damage to him. His expression is blank, eyes pinned calmly on you.

"You filthy fucking bloodsucker." You hiss out through your teeth, contemplating the actions it would take to bury a stake into his heart.

"Keep talking. Makes me hard." He sneers.

You almost consider spitting in his face. He'd had the nerve to describe exactly how he'd buried his hand into Ethan's chest not a minute after you'd driven away from him last night.

"He was my friend." You grit out, hand tightening on the column of his throat, you reach for the dull knife on the coffee table beside you, bringing it up to his neck.

"Planning to tickle me with that?" He taunts as you shove him further back, until your full weight is propped onto the hand pressed around his neck, your thigh pressed right between his, forcing you to straddle his leg.

Unbelievably, you feel his hand grip your hips, holding you securely in place as if he wants you as close to him as possible.

"I can do some real damage with this." You warn, voice low and enraged, trailing the knife slowly down the column of his throat, "Don't you know dull knives hurt more?"

His lips part, his chest drops a little as if the breath in his lungs has escaped him.

"The only thing hurting me," he whispers, "Is that you're not naked."

You take the time to press the tip of the dull knife into his skin. It would take a lot more force to puncture his neck, but doing so meant you could shred his throat easily. You wonder if that would even slow him down.

Your mouth curls in disgust, pulling away from him and sliding off his body quickly. You ignore the little wet spot your cunt has left behind on his pants, still being dressed in just his shirt.

There’s a tense moment of silence, the smell of delicious chinese food in the air- he’d ordered it for you while you were asleep so that there would be food available for you not long after waking. You’d only been a few bites in when you’d asked about the last time he’d fed, and he’d revealed to you what you’d already known was true, that he’d left Ethan’s body in a dumpster, missing a heart.

“You’re sick.” You whisper, facing away from him. Ethan had been trained alongside you, saved your life just as much as you’d saved his, and Billy had killed him because he’d dared to touch you.

You feel Billy behind you now, not worrying to think about how fast he’d just moved.

You huff when you feel his hands glide over either side of your hips, fingers twitching as he holds you firm.

You try your hardest to hate it, to feel disgusted by his cold hands on you, but all you feel is flutters, in your chest, your stomach, and somewhere lower.

“From the minute I put my hands on you, I knew you were mine.” He says. You squeeze your eyes shut, mentally rejecting the words.

“I know you can feel it, the way I do when I’m not near you,” he continues, drawing closer till his voice is just in your ear, “Like there’s no air in the room, unless you’re here.”

“You’re deranged.” You gasp out, feeling his hands tighten on your hips.

“You call that boy your friend, but you forget that I saw the whole thing. You didn’t want him touching you, and he did anyway. Is that not a good enough reason to tear his heart out of his chest?”

“He touched me. Not you. It was my situation to handle.” You retort.

He’s silent for a long moment.

“You’re right. I let my anger get the best of me.”

“Thank you.”

He pulls you back suddenly, till you’re pressed against his front securely, his nose running gently against your neck, one of his hands rise to tug your shirt collar down, till his face is pressed to the scar of his bite on your shoulder.

“Don’t mishear me. I’m not saying I’m sorry. Believe it or not, but I’ve been in that position, and I guarantee you, that if it’s not you, it’s someone else.”

You feel him kiss your scar, tingles spreading over your body. You’re deep in your own thoughts, thinking about his words.

“You’ve been in that position?” You echo his words, mind fuzzy with his attention.

“Mhm,” He hums, open mouthed kisses roaming your neck, “Wasn’t as strong as you either. It’s why I’ll always stand up for those who can’t stand up for themselves.”

You suck in a deep breath.

“But you’re a vampire.”

He spins you around, arms gripping your shoulder, eyebrows pulled together.

“You’re still thinking like that?” He utters in disbelief.

“Well, you haven’t really given me anything else to work with.”

He huffs, taking your hands in his and pulling you back to the couch.

“Okay, come, let me explain.”

You follow easily, and when you try to sit beside him, he eagerly pulls you into his lap. You huff, rolling your eyes as you try not to grind your wet centre against his thigh. He watches you, as if he can hear every thought.

“Believe it or not, vampires are very much like people. There are good, and there are bad.”

When you open your mouth to voice your opinion, he grabs the back of your head quickly, pulling you into him to lay a scalding kiss against your lips. His body might be cool to the touch, but he makes you sizzle anyway.

Heavens, he kisses like sin, plump lips owning whatever parts of yourself were still unclaimed, now his fully.

“Why don’t you let me finish, and then you can ask your questions.” He suggests, forehead pressed to yours.

A smarter side of you would argue, protesting his need to feed you what was most likely a lie.

You swallow, nodding your head hesitantly, feeling your body heat up with the memory of the things he'd done to you last night.

You look away from him, trying to get your thoughts together.

"We don't have to, I can always just lay you back right here and lick you to my heart's content."

You groan, clenching around nothing, acutely aware that being this close to him is making your head spin.

"Shut up and talk, Billy." You say with a pained hint in your voice.

He raises his eyebrows, his lips pulling into a slow grin. Thankfully he doesn't comment on your contrasting words.

"Okay, so as I was saying, from a moral perspective, vampires aren't that much different compared to humans. Realistically, if we killed someone every time we fed, more people would know about us."

"That's still a parasitic existence."

"The next time you interrupt I'm going to spank you."

You groan, clenching around nothing for a second time.

He explains it to you like you're a child, carefully arguing that the creatures of the night weren't all monsters, that they were a still budding society trying to figure out the logistics of existing.

"You sound like children." You interject.

Billy doesn't hesitate to draw his hand back and slap your thigh, watching you hiss in pain, that then quietly bleeds into pleasure, to your embarrassment.

"For most of human history, the number of vampires have only been in the hundreds. Now, we might have hit only a couple of thousand. The number of people that humans have killed vastly outweighs the number of vampires that exist and you still want to accuse us? Can't you see that the way you've been taught to think about us is flawed?"

You huff.

"Why is it so important that I believe what you say?" You ask, and it earns you another loud smack to the curve of your ass. You shut your eyes for a moment to fight the urge to rut your hips on his thigh.

"I'm trying to show you who the real monsters are. The ones that hide in the shadows and pull the strings, the ones that sell their own kind to the highest bidder of ours. These are people you should be hunting, little girl, not the fledglings that want to dance in clubs and feed from unsuspecting humans."

You open your eyes, blinking at him.

"You're saying there's something bigger at play?"

His hand comes down on your other asscheek. He grins when you glare at him.

"Yes. Your organisation trained you to kill the first vampire you see, making us all out to be monsters, but it's just not that simple. I can show the real monsters if you want, and let you-"

He cuts off, and after a second, he grins at you.

You look at him quizzically.

"You're so wet, I can feel it soaking through my jeans."

A low groan of annoyance leaves you, and you raise your hips, in an attempt to get off of him.

He’s not having it, gripping your hips firmly and pulling you back onto his thigh. When you struggle, his arms wrap around you, bringing you even closer, one hand settling low on your back, and then tugging your shirt up to grip your ass tightly. He holds you in place till you find that you are unable to even move an inch.

You study him intently as heat flushes through your system, eyes tracing the scars that line his face.

His eyes are dark, decisive, your eyes flit down to his lips, the sweet curve of them making your tongue feel heavy in your mouth. The shape of his beard urging you to rub yourself against him, the memory of his mouth between your thighs coming to mind.

You let out a slow breath.

“As I was saying, I can show you the real monsters,” He says softly, the air growing charged between you, “And let you decide what you want for yourself.”

You could barely remember why you were even fighting him, the magnetism of his form was too strong for you to resist.

“I’ll think about it.” You whisper, tilting your head to the side, and leaning into him slowly.

At the very last moment before your lips touch, you pause.

“Wait.” You whisper, pulling back.

You feel his hands tighten around you.

“What?” He bites out, lips parted so you can see just the smallest hint of his fangs.

You try to ignore his snippy attitude, and resist rolling your eyes lest it get you into more trouble.

“The thing you said… about choosing mates? What’s that about?”

You watch his lips part, to take a slow breath in.

“It’s something vampires do. Sort of, like an imprint- a voluntary imprint.”

You blink at him, horror washing through your body.

“You- imprinted on me… willingly?” You try to draw away from him, and he resists your movement, hand tightening on your bare ass subtly.

It brings you back to where you are, half naked on his lap.

“Yes.” He grits out, “When I first tasted you, I claimed you as mine.”

You fight him harder now, pushing against his chest.

“Claimed me? Don’t I get a choice?”

Billy huffs.

“You came up to me in that club- or don’t you remember?” He says, and you can see the clear anger in his features.

“You didn’t even know me!” You protest, finally getting enough leverage to wiggle out of his lap and to a stand on shaky legs.

He grits his teeth, tilting his head and watching you move away from him.

“The imprint might be voluntary, but it doesn’t work unless we’re compatible.”

“You’re sick.” You respond quickly, not even thinking.

He closes his eyes slowly, rolls his neck. You worry for a moment that his need for you has just expired.

Would he kill you? If he didn’t get what he wanted from you?

You swallow, eyeing him steadily.

He stands, walking past you without a second glance.

“Eat. I’ll take you hunting tonight.”

“Wh- what if I want to leave?” You ask softly.

He stops at the doorway, looks down before turning his head to the side. You study the scar on his cheek.

“They’ll kill you if they catch you, just to get to me. And if they hurt you, I’ll scatter their body parts across the state.”

You gulp at the imagery.

It was more irritating to you that he was giving you space.

He’d gone from keeping you in his arms, to not touching you at all and it made you seethe with all the hatred you had for him.

You hadn’t left- because you knew your organisation, and you knew Billy was right. They’d try to kill you the second they found you, if only to prove a point. Especially now that you knew for sure that Ethan was dead.

You pause while applying your mascara, sucking in a deep breath. Someone had dropped off a small duffel bag of supplies for you at the door, and Billy had slid it into your hands, telling you to get ready, you’d be going out in an hour.

He’s checking his watch when you emerge from the bathroom, dressed in jeans that fit you surprisingly well and a baby pink crop top.

His eyes scour your frame, face stoic as he makes his assessment.

“Ready?” He asks.

You only nod.

The heat of the club was familiar to you, an abundance of bodies so close together in one small space, moving under the soft neon lights.

You’re following his large frame, trying to keep an eye on the olive shirt wrapped around his shoulders, fighting each dirty thought about him that crosses your mind.

He’d looked good, to your annoyance, and you were wondering how long it would take for him to touch you again.

The answer was not very long at all, because when the crowd gets too dense, he reaches behind, extending a hand for you to take.

His hand is rough in yours, cool to the touch, undead and owning it and you feel your heartbeat kick up at the casual way his hand grips yours.

You didn’t like him, definitely not.

You weren’t too distracted by him to notice some of the other vampires in the club. You catch them in your peripheral vision, eyeing you both up, no doubt your scent packing a metaphorical punch to anyone with an advanced sense of smell.

"Easy baby," Billy whispers into your ear, fully knowing that anyone could be listening in on your conversation, his hand smoothing over your shoulder and down to the small of your back.

"We'll have our fun soon enough." He continues, his voice in your ear sending sharp waves of want down your spine.

If he notices your response to him, he doesn't show it, simply guiding you to an open seat at a secluded booth in the club.

He'd briefed you in the car on the way here, explaining that the objective was to be invited into the back rooms where the questionable conversations happened. All he’d been hoping for, was an idea of where the location for the next big meeting might be.

“The real shady conversations don’t happen in nightclubs, they happen in the back rooms of libraries or secluded five star restaurants that cater to our specific… diet.” Billy had explained.

That had made your stomach twist into knots at the idea that there really was something worse at play, made you want to do anything possible to put a dent in it.

He sits at the booth, and like you’d discussed in the car, you sit quietly beside him, body stirring with thoughts of what he’d said he’d do next.

“I’ll put you on my lap, I need them to think you’re my pretty pet. They’ll do anything to try to convince me to share you.”

When he pats his thigh, you do what you know he wants you to. You move slowly, crawling into his lap, straddling his hips.

It brings you face to face with him, and there’s something of a silent conversation going on between you.

Though his hands are on you, gripping your body tightly, and very inappropriately for anyone to see, there’s a distance to the expression on his face that stings.

You study his scars, his eyes closing when your noses brush.

You think about the imprint he’d confessed to. You wonder what it really meant, that maybe you weren’t at his mercy as much as you’d initially thought.

After a moment, you roll your hips against his, body igniting when you manage to feel hints of his thick erection through your layers of clothing.

He pins you with his red eyes.

It sends ripples of pleasure through you.

You didn’t know what you wanted, not even sure if it was him, with his sharp jawline and thick hair, and the scars that sit on his face, someone’s attempt at making him less beautiful gone awry.

All you knew, that in this moment, you were searching for a higher purpose, a reason for being in your current position that wasn’t just because of him. Because what kind of person would that make you? If you genuinely enjoyed being with him after the things he’s done?

After a long moment of looking into each other’s eyes, he takes a deep breath, gripping the back of your neck to bring you closer so that his lips brush your ear.

“I can smell how wet you are. Is that all for me?”

He’d know if you were lying anyway.

“Yes,” you whisper, “I need you.”

He hums, the sound goes down, all the way to your aching clit.

“If only you’d worn a skirt,” Billy continues, “I could have had my cock inside you from the minute we sat down.”

You don’t suppress your reaction, sighing in need, clenching hard around nothing.

Although this was just a performance, you realise it’s not so hard to actually act.

You pull back a little, so you can look down at his mouth. You clench again at the memory of sitting on his face.

His fingers tighten on the back of your neck, warning you that someone is approaching, your debauched act finally prompting someone to come near.

“Pardon me,” The feminine voice says- a vampire you realise- and you resist looking over at her, “but I couldn’t help but overhear your problem, and would like to extend an invitation to our basement lounge to you.”

Billy pauses, seeming to ponder her words, you attempt to ‘encourage’ him by leaning in to place kisses on the smooth column of his neck.

You feel his hand tighten on the back of your own neck imperceptibly.

“Private rooms?” He asks.

You both already know the answer before she says it.

“Not completely, but more private than this.” She says, no doubt pointing out the wide open area of the dancefloor where anyone could see the both of you.

“I’m not sure if I’m interested.” Billy responds, making sure he doesn’t look too eager to follow her.

You keep kissing his neck, running your tongue up to his earlobe before continuing your kisses, feeling the vibration as the woman slides in beside Billy.

You pause for a second, looking over at the woman, makeup done perfectly, brunette hair falling gracefully as she moves, before Billy turns your head away, a silent urge that as his pet, his conversation was none of your business.

He’d warned you about it before, that people would speak about you like you weren’t there and playing along was necessary. You could do that, you’d played hundreds of roles before when hunting, this was just another character.

The character you were playing right now, was an empty, aching little hole. Someone eager and willing to go along with anything her partner says as long as it made him happy and got her ache satiated at the end of the night. You’d pulled inspiration from your own life for this role.

“She smells so sweet.” The woman says, to Billy in a soft voice, “Surely you don’t want to enjoy her here out in the open where you can get interrupted.”

“And I’m sure that following you is going to have a price of its own.” Billy murmurs, and you squirm on his lap a little to give off an air of impatience.

Despite your aversion to him, you’re forced to admit to yourself that you enjoy sitting in his lap. This role of needy girl coming naturally to you, because you wanted, and you wanted and you wanted him to give.

“Honestly, I’d love a little taste.” The woman confesses.

“Hear that, pet?” Billy hums, fingers sliding into your hair to pull your head back so that your eyes meet his, “This one wants a taste. What do you think?”

You think she’d look nice with a stake buried in her chest.

You flutter your eyes, giving him the look of eager obedience.

“Whatever you want, sir.” You mumble.

Billy’s dark eyes give nothing away.

“Perhaps I can share a mouthful with you, but on my terms.” He says, and you smile as he continues to look into your eyes.

He’d also warned you that he might have to bite you at some point. He promised he wouldn’t let anyone else.

You trusted him. You could see it in his eyes, that maybe the idea of letting someone else touch you had been out of the question from the very start.

“We have a deal.” The woman says, standing easily, and waiting for Billy to follow.

You’re wobbly on your legs, too drunk on your own lust for him, the way he holds your hand, silently pulling you along.

You almost forget the real reason you were here, lost in wondering how he would take care of you later tonight if you’d let him.

On the way down, the woman introduces herself as Petra, Billy gives his name, and no one even mentions you. It makes you a little irritated, that you were being treated as that much of an object, but it didn’t really surprise you. They were vampires after all.

You don’t ask where you’re going, following easily, memorising every hallway and door, making a mental map in your head.

She guides you down a flight of stairs, so narrow that Billy’s shoulders brush the sides of either wall. At the bottom, is a short hallway that stops at an iron door.

Three sharp knocks, and the door cracks open.

You can feel the pulse of the music, emphasised by the lighting in the room, it’s like a dull thrumming, echoing the need inside of you, much slower and more erotic than whatever is playing in the club upstairs.

Inside is like a large cavern, the walls give off an impression of being somewhere underground, with rough rock walls and lighting fixtures jutting out.

The room is filled with secluded booths, sheer drapes to hide the bodies within, the low light accentuating the writhing figures of people dancing inside, no doubt putting on a show for their partners.

“Nice place.” Billy says, he doesn’t scan the area like you do, using senses beyond your comprehension to make his observations. He gives six squeezes to your hand- one per vampire in the room.

Six, if you had to fight your way out, things would be a little complicated.

Billy slides into the booth easily, his fingers still laced with yours, guiding you. When he sits, you settle beside him. Almost instantly, his hands are on your hips, pulling you onto his lap, making you straddle him.

You look down, feeling a little vulnerable in this position, arousal settling warmly in the spot between your legs.

“She smells divine,” Petra hums, interrupting your debauched thoughts, sitting in the booth at a respectful distance away, “You promised me a taste.” She reminds him.

“Of course.” Billy says, but when she inches toward you, he raises his hand to stop her from moving any closer.

His hand smooths over the top of your head, your eyelids fluttering at his attempt to calm you, he grips your chin gently, tilting your head to the side.

You close your eyes, your neck tingles, your mind preparing itself for the pain of it.

There’s no fear, just acceptance. You’re almost eager, from the last time he promised he’d bite you.

He takes a deep breath at the crook of your neck, hands wandering to your backside to keep you still.

You try to relax your body as much as possible, knowing that resistance made it hurt more.

His tongue glides over your neck, and then his fangs press against your skin.

Billy somehow manages to find a way to be gentle about it, he presses in fast, keeping steady as his fangs penetrate your neck.

Delight floods your system for a moment, sparking through your body from where his mouth is latched to your neck. You can’t help the small hum of surprise that leaves your throat. Surely, bites weren’t supposed to feel this good?

It pinches next, and then it stings. You close your eyes and breathe through it, experiencing the pain, letting it move through every cell of your body.

Then, the throbbing begins.

Your neck pulses, as if your body’s suddenly noticed that it’s been breached, and is trying to process the intrusion.

You whimper in pain when he raises his head, freeing his teeth from your skin, the most painful part in your opinion.

His mouth remains latched to your neck, you feel him take one big mouthful of your blood, and swallows. His grip tightens on your ass and you can only imagine what you taste like to him. He only pulls away after he takes a second mouthful.

You watch, peeking through your closed eyelids, as he beckons Petra closer, his fingers under her chin as he seals his mouth to hers.

Something ugly rears its head inside of you. An anger that wasn’t there before, burning as you watch their lips lock, as he shares your blood with her.

She moans into his mouth, pressing forward, and you watch, with blood trickling from your open wound, as she glides her tongue into his mouth.

All you can feel is hate. When he finally pulls away after what felt like hours of watching them kiss, she chases his mouth, but he braces one arm on her shoulder to stop her.

You couldn’t figure out why you were so upset, it wasn’t like… like you wanted him. Right?

“I need more.” She says, leaning in, now red eyes flitting to you, and to the blood dripping slowly from your neck.

Billy keeps her at bay, glancing at you for a moment.

“Pet,” he says easily, moving his hand off your ass and fishing in his pocket for a hankerchief to present to you, “Why don’t you put some pressure on that for me.” He inclines his head at your wound.

You nod, taking the soft white material, and pressing down to stop the bleeding.

“Please,” Petra begs again, “She’s delicious, you need to bring her to an auction we’re having next week. You have no idea how much she’s worth.”

His eyes are dark when he glances at you, seemingly deep in thought.

“I really could use some more blood, I can’t feed from her all the time.”

She jumps at Billy’s admittance.

“Exactly, you could get ten bodies with the amount of cash you’d get for her.”

When she leans in further, Billy’s hand drifts to wrap itself around her throat.

You can see that she’s too taken with your blood to focus properly, her eyes are glued to your neck despite the hold Billy has her in.

“Where is this auction?” Billy hums, with a tilt of his head. When she doesn’t immediately respond, trying to fight to keep the secret for as long as possible, you entice her by pulling the piece of fabric off your wound.

You’ve long since stopped bleeding, but the cloth has enough of your blood on it to loosen her lips easily.

She speaks the time and place in a very soft breath, that not even you can hear, all you can see from the corner of your eyes are her lips moving, and after a moment, Billy nods in understanding.

“I’ll think about it. Now leave. You promised me privacy and you’ve already had your taste.” He pushes her away, releasing the grip on her throat.

She catches herself as she falls back, and with a sour look, she backs off, leaving you alone with each other.

Did you have to kiss her? You immediately want to ask, but with the knowledge that anyone can hear your conversation, you can only roll your eyes at him, and lean away.

You know that technically, you’re supposed to be locked into an intimate embrace with him, but you can’t bear the thought of kissing him after watching him kiss someone else.

You needed to find a way to make this believable on your own terms, and you also didn’t want to actually fuck him either. You’d had enough of being vulnerable for the night.

Without thinking too much about it, you reach for the button on his jeans.

His hands reach to stop you, a silent exchange passing between you. He raises his eyebrows in a 'What are you doing?' type of way.

You both knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt that you couldn’t very well just leave after getting the information you wanted, it would look too suspicious. Something had to be done, and this is what you’d decided on.

You bite down on your bottom lip, deep in thought, watching his eyes drift down to your mouth, and when you reach to undo his pants again, he doesn’t stop you.

You shuffle back, tugging at his jeans and working his boxers down until his cock is exposed to you.

He's almost at full mast, and his indecent exposure and the implications of that succeeds in bringing him to full hardness.

You feel something twist inside of you, a pleasure racing through your body at just the sight of him.

You wanted to do this, for yourself as much as for him.

Shuffling back, you keep your eyes on his, slipping easily onto your knees between his parted legs.

When your knees hit the ground, you watch his eyes flash red momentarily.

There’s nothing to be said between you. You can’t convey to him that you’re only doing this because any of the alternatives mean opening up to him, and that’s the last thing you feel like doing right now.

Right now, all you want to do is take from him.

So instead, you lean forward, and wrap your lips around the head of his cock.

His cock is so fucking good you have to fight the moans that rise so easily within you.

Your eyes flutter shut, leaning forward even more, tongue roaming over his tip.

You hear a sharp intake of breath, and you reward the sound by taking him deeper.

It feels so right to have him in your mouth, heavy against your tongue, the head of his cock is smooth, and you're intrigued by the sensation.

You reach for his hand, the one that's got a death grip on the soft cushion beside your head. He releases the couch on your insistence, and you encourage his hand to grip the back of your head.

He grunts out what you think is an expletive, and you pause, raising your head to look at him.

His eyes are dark, the scars on his face look downright devilish in the low light, and you want him to use you for his pleasure, so that you don’t have to feel bad about wanting.

You can tell he’s hesitant, for the very first time you see him pause in his pursuit of you, dark eyes unsure, that is, until you begin to lick gently at his tip.

Teasing him with small touches of your tongue, you watch the darkness grow and grow in his eyes, until he finally takes control- gripping the back of your head harshly.

Your mouth falls open at the sensation, obedient to whatever he wills. You move easily as he pulls your mouth back onto his cock.

He takes it slow at first, guiding the movement of your head up and down on his cock, pushing you down a little deeper each time.

You suck a little- because for all the control he has- you’re in charge here.

“That’s a good girl.” He hums lowly, guiding your head. You hum in response.

It feels good to give him this, feel him filling your mouth so rhythmically, your cunt weeping for the attention he gives your mouth.

You push farther than his hands guide, taking him to the back of your throat. Your body isn’t prepared for the intrusion, and resists, forcing you to pull away with a gasp.

Tears in your eyes, you look up at him in apology.

His lips are parted, licking at his bottom lip, he grips your hair harshly, and pulls your head up.

You grunt, scalp tingling for a moment as he pulls your body taut between his legs, leaning down until his lips are pressed to your ear.

“You have no fucking idea what I want to do to you, little girl.” He whispers in your ear.

You swallow, cunt squeezing around nothing.

You wanted to hate him.

You wanted him to use you however he wanted.

You don’t say anything, and when he pulls back to look at you, you make sure he can see the fire in your eyes.

All he does is smirk, and pull your head back down to his cock.

This time, he’s rougher with his motions, guiding your head faster, till your jaw begins to ache but you refuse to give up, wanting to taste his cum, the way he tasted your blood, to have a part of him, just like he had a part of you.

His hands tighten in your hair, a warning, you suck rhythmically, using your tongue to stroke the underside of his cock.

You hear his breath catch, before he’s pushing you down on his cock. You squeeze your eyes shut as he fills your mouth with salty cum, his cock pulsing against your tongue, and you do your best to take everything he has to give.

You don’t swallow immediately, pulling your head off of his cock, you look up at him, parting your lips and sticking your tongue out to show him the evidence of his release.

His eyes flash red as he watches you swallow his cum, appreciating the salty taste of him, before opening your mouth again to show him that it’s all gone.

You breathe deeply, gazing at each other for a long moment. His hand slips from the back of your head, cups your cheek gently.

“I can smell how wet you are. Let’s go home. The things I want to do to you I can’t do here.” Billy says softly, and you nod, getting out of his way so that he can stand and tuck his cock back into his pants.

When he’s done, he extends a hand to you, which you take easily, rising to a stand.

When he leans in to kiss you, you turn your head to the side to avoid his lips, still upset at seeing him kiss another.

He pulls away, a stony expression on his face as he guides you out of the secluded booth.

You grab the handkerchief with your blood on it, tucking it into your back pocket, making sure there’s no evidence of your blood left behind.

Billy nods at Petra on his way out of the room, and you keep your eyes fixed to the floor like the pet you’re supposed to be.

#dark!billy russo #vampire billy #billy russo #vampire!billy russo #billy russo x reader #billy russo x female reader #my writings #billy russo smut #monster!billy russo #monster!billy

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princessbrunette · 10 months

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i love your drabbles! what do you think of anakin's need to have his S/O scratch his back during sex? I imagine he'd cheekily be like "... get long stilleto nails ;) ;) ;)" when you're at the salon and later that night ask you to rake your nails down his back.

and then he's ask for you to do it HARDER.

and you'd complain like, "oh, ani, ani - i can't, i think my nail might actually break if i do it any harder..."

and he just moans that he'll buy you a new set if it does.

anakins not a bad listener.

but sometimes, he’s so distracted with his own thoughts about a mission, or drama around the temple that when you begin to ramble about your plans for the day… his mind kind of slips elsewhere. often staring off into the distance until you cup his cheek and refocus him. you don’t really mind most of the time though, you’re usually speaking your plans out loud just to use anakin as a human diary so that you don’t forget anything. however, at the mention of you going to the salon to get your nails done he perks up a little, looking you over with intrigue.

“can you get the sharp ones?” he interjects, making you trail off whatever you were saying to look at him in surprise. he didn’t know any of the terms of course, unable to differ from coffin shaped to almond if you asked him, but he knew what he did like, and why he liked them. when you don’t say anything, caught a little off guard he clarifies. “you know, the long ones? i like those ones a lot.”

you nod, a soft smile gracing your features as he stands from your couch, patting down his pockets in search of where he kept his credits. he didn’t have much money, the jedi being paid in pretty much dirt — but he liked to pay for things like your nails, which you figured was more for his self esteem, often muttering some kind of ‘what kind of man would i be if —’ line whenever you’d try and refuse him.

so you get stiletto nails from the salon upon his request, or as you like to refer to them, claws. you hadn’t gotten them done in this shape for a while, mainly because they were a bit of a nuisance — waking up having scratched yourself in the night or accidentally nicking yourself with them just trying to get dressed. they’d dull out and become more manageable after a week, but the first few days of having them they were at their sharpest.

you feel like a happy housewife running to show anakin your new nails funded by him when he arrives back through your door later that day, and he smirks in the most charming way as he takes your smaller hand, holding it up so he can get a good look. “very nice.” he praises, continuing on, but little did you know he liked it more than he was playing off, because he knew what they could do.

like clockwork, you end up on your back that evening, your own whines bouncing off the walls and exiting through the billowing curtains to your balcony. he looks like some kind of god, towering over you, ripped and smooth and it’s impossible to keep your hands off him as he grinds his dick up against your cervix making you howl.

“th’salright— you can scratch me.” he groans after you fumble out an apology for slicing his muscled back with your new nails. you’re reluctant, but figure he likes it from the way he moans when you do. his following “thats it.” spurs you on to continue, painting vibrant pink streaks down his skin that you’re sure will be visible the next morning when you wake up to him dozing in the early sun.

“ani, don’t wanna hurt you!” you whimper, clenching around him purely from the animalistic sounds he’s making, going to slide your hands away from his back. at the threat of removing your hands he all but wrestles them back into position desperately, burying his mouth into the crook of your neck so he can instruct you right in your ear. “baby please, c’mon, draw blood for me, why’d you think i like those nails so much, ‘uh?”

so you do, and he bleeds, and suddenly he’s having to slow his thrusts as to not bust right there and then before he’s given you the chance to get off. luckily for him, it doesn’t take long, because the way he moans for you, cursing and half slurring promises to pay for your next set if they break, you’re twitching around his length and mewling out through your orgasm.

#anon #anakin skywalker drabble #anakin skywalker prompt #anakin skywalker smut #star wars smut #anakin smut

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grlazul · 1 year

Text

yuu transfers to rsa

yuu gets a letter from ambrose, asking if they would like to transfer to rsa. tired of crowley using them and not wanting to deal with overblot after overblot, they agree. how do their friends react? (first years ver)

small note: literally SUCKK at writing for sebek i apologize

ACE is totally chill with it, he definitely understands! (he is literally punching the wall crying thinking he maybe did something to upset one of his only friends). he'll definitely try to talk you out of going, but once he realizes you're not going to change your mind he'll quit it. he really wants to stay in contact with you, but he'll play it off as "not wanting you to feel lonely" while you're at rsa. the 20+ messages he'll spam you with each hour of the day will surely help! but seriously, please don't ever forget him prefect... his heart would not be able to take it!

DEUCE understands why you decided to do this, but it doesn't make him any less distraught. he won't try to guilt you into staying, purposefully at least, the way he mopes around upon hearing the news is sure to make you feel at least a bit bad. he promises he will always check in on you and will run all the way across sage island should you ever need him. he won't spam you like ace would but expect at least a few messages here and there, he wants to stay connected with you.

JACK also gets it. he's seen how hard crowley works you and it's no secret you're always there whenever someone overblots, working to solve yet another mess. he won't visibly show it, but he's going to miss you, a lot. you're one of the few people dearest to him, and it does hurt to see you go. but he understands that you've been pushed to this point, and it isn't something he can fix. he's not going to text you too much, instead he'll offer to go on outings with you during weekends or breaks so you can connect face to face. but this doesn't mean you shouldn't expect a couple 'Good morning' or 'Have you eaten yet?' messages every once in a while.

EPEL tries to be like jack. he doesn't want to show how much he's going to miss you, he dislikes that vulnerability. but his heart aches when he realizes he won't be near you as often as he wants to be. he wouldn't outwardly try to talk you into staying, but will find subtle ways to try and show you that nrc isn't always awful. he knows you know that though, he knows you're tired. he knows you don't deserve to be worked to death in a world you were thrown in by the cruel hand of fate. he knows it'll be better for you at rsa. he accepts that truth, but most definitely tries to talk you into staying with him and his family during breaks. if he can't see you during the school year, at least let him see you during your time off :(

SEBEK laughs at first. very funny human, you do know how to make him laugh! only, you aren't joking. oh. he panics. how could you leave him?? how could you leave nrc?? the very school that his beloved malleus attends?? when you explain your reasoning he looks at you with a deep sadness in his eyes. for once, he is quiet. he wants to say something, he wants to beg you to stay, but he knows it would be of no use. he spends more time with you before you leave, if you give him anything during your last moments at nrc he will cherish it forever. it could be anything, genuinely. whether it be a photograph of the two of you or a marble you found on the floor he will keep it forever... lowkey acts like you are dying of a terminal illness until you tell him you can still communicate through texting or letters. perhaps he will invest in some human technology just for you...

#twisted wonderland #twst #ace trappola #ace trapolla x reader #deuce spade #deuce spade x reader #jack howl #sebek zigvolt #epel felmier #twisted wonderland x reader #grlazul

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murder-cookie-dust393 · 27 days

Note

Seal anon here!

Just thought of a very funny y/n for the cookie world...a y/n who is oblivious to all the cookies trying go flirt and stuff with them! Also easily distracted like one second they simply think a cookie is being really nice to them and then the next they get distracted by a butterfly. Basically in the 'I want y/n' wars, they gotta keep y/n's attention on them and basically be something like 'and that is why I should be the one to date y/n-y/n, sweetheart, no. Don't wander off. Here, have a sweet treat and stay riiiight there. Ok? Ok. Anyway what makes you think you're worthy of y/n?' Or two cookies could be fighting over y/n while THINKING y/n is still close by but then they pause and realize 'wait where did y/n go?' And have to go chase em down lol!

Like have to keep y/n distracted and close to them or else they will wander off and do their own thing lmao! A very oblivious y/n!

What better duo with this than Milk and Yam?

Tw: SHITPOSTING, brief mentions of manipulation

Milk is sweet and worries a lot. He tends to panic when MC wanders off without him nearby. That's why he tends to hug them or hold their hand so they don't leave without him noticing. Once he finds them he's cooing and basically babying them a little too much.

Meanwhile, Yam is the equivalent of a Chihuahua. He's screaming and yelling, which is his way of calling for MC. Once he finds them, he just puts them over his shoulder so they can't get away. He does enjoy the feeling of them being helpless without him.

If the two are in the same space, it's literally an old married couple + MC.

Milk will try to lure MC in with his nurturing nature while also trying to passive-aggressively shove Purple Yam out of the way. If they're out adventuring he likes to just randomly put his shield up and be like, "You can't forget your shield MC! You might get hurt without me right by you!"

Yam gets so pissed at Milk because he knows Milk is trying to push him out of the way. The only way Yam tries to get MC's attention is through his language. I can see him swearing and being mad about things constantly; that MC finds it funny. In battle, he'll just swing around his mace to protect the group. But especially MC. "HRAGH! GET OUT OF THE FUCKING WAY MILK I WANNA TALK TO THEM!"

I can see Milk and Yam arguing in whisper-yelling (we'll ignore that Yam can't be quiet right now) while MC is asleep. Like when they're camping for the night and MC is sleeping in between the two.

"You need to stop being so mean and aggressive with them! They do nothing wrong! I can't believe you would do such a thing to a poor little thing like them..." Milk pets your hair, pulling you closer to him.

"Look who's talking! You're the one manipulating them with your fucking 'Prince Charming' act! If anything, I'm just like any other cookie who has anger issues!"

"Me? I would never! I just want my precious one safe...and sound." Milk stares at your face with too much of a loving look. His smile practically glued onto his face.

"Yeah right! I'm the one beating up bad guys here!" Yam reaches an arm to tug you closer but hesitates.

"Go to sleep!"

"No! You go to sleep!"

"Guys I think I might be controlled by a human entity that has a really large finger." Suddenly, you whisper, absolutely clueless to the conversation.

"What? Say again?"

"HUh?"

"Finger..." You fall back asleep.

——————————————————

I was in the mood for some shitposting. No, I will never be sorry for it.

I was thinking Gumball and Darwin at the very end lol

- Celina

#cookie run #yandere cookie run #cookie run x reader #yandere x reader #yandere #crk #cookie run kingdom #crk x reader #milk cookie #purple yam cookie #cookie run ovenbreak #crob #crob x reader #yandere crob #yandere crk #yandere cookie run kingdom #yandere cookie run ovenbreak

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ivorryskies · 1 month

Text

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷Prompt: Think I'll miss you forever, Like the stars miss the sun in the morning sky, Later's better than never, Even if you're gone I'm gonna drive -Lana Del Rey

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ Felix's Note: guess who's back 😭 I'm so sorry for my absence but I'm back! Delivering another fic for y'all! Enjoyyy <3

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷Pairings: Dazai x fem!reader

Summertime Sadness

Tears fell from your face on the floor as it felt as if your eyes were weighing you down. Your arms were locked around the man in front of you, your lips never leaving his as if it were the last time you'd kiss him. Who knew, it may be true?

That thought haunted you every night. It was the night before the plan would commence, to stop fyodor, and it required having dazai captured in meursault. You knew he was smart enough to not die, he was smart enough to know what he's doing...right? You didn't want to think about it. And that's how you were caught up in the situation right now, him whispering reassuring words to you soothing you hair, his heart also unsure of the outcome.

You sat in a red dress that Dazai loved so much in the comfort of your own home, the tv was on but you couldn't get yourself to focus on it, you dialed Dazais number knowing he wouldn't pick up, his phone was confiscated after all, but it wouldn't hurt sending him voicemails on how good or bad your day has been. His absence affects you more then you anticipated. You just wanted him back, back at the agency slacking off work like he used to, getting scolded by Kunnikida only to spend time with you, you just wanted him back with you.

It hadn't even been a day since he left and you were already feeling the summertime sadness. You remembered the way he held you in his arms before leaving. His seat reassurances nothing but sugar coating the bitterpill. What if he never came back? What if Fyodor manages to outsmart him? Will you ever get the same comfort you did in his arms? Will you ever get to see the same laugh again the way he did? Will you get to stare at his once lifeless eyes, that were now filled with hope? Will you ever see him again?

While he watched the race in front of him awaiting his arrest, all he could think of was you. The way you held him, the way you gave him hope, the way you proved to him someone could love a person like him, the way you taught him that he is worthy of love too. He waited and waited until it was showtime, he was cuffed, he bid you farewell one last time in his thoughts and focused on the disaster in front of him now. But oh so he did miss the warmth of your embrace when he would rest, he missed the daily scoldings by you, he missed the way you showed him he was a human. Being far away from it made him come to reality again, that he is who he was.

3 days passed that neither you or Dazai spent time not thinking about each other. He was more caught up in the task before him, so he felt upset he couldn't think about you, while you wished you would stop thinking about him. You distracted yourself by many things, you cleared your head, but nothing could fill that feeling in your heart that something is missing. You think you'll miss him forever... Just like the stars miss the sun in the morning sky. Even in his absence you continued on with your life, it was the only way to distract yourself from him and your constant over thinking.

One afternoon, you got a call from Atsushi while you were lying in your bed. You wished that call was about Dazais safe arrival and picked it up. You greeted him in a soft voice before a familiar tone from behind the phone started speaking. "Open the door love". You didn't waste a second, you recognized that voice, you could never forget it, you could recognize this voice from miles away, you rushed out of your room to the front door and stood in front of it for a few seconds before swinging it open. There he was, the same man who you spent days worrying about standing before you. He had more bandaged than usual if that was even possible, and he was still in his prison uniform but your Dazai non the less. He gave you a tired smile and opened his arms.

Immediately you ran into them and took him in a warm hug. It was a hug you didn't want to let go of. This time again your eyes weighed you down but not because of worry or sadness but happiness and relief. You slowly and reluctantly pulled away from him and looked at him, you looked at his eyes again the same ones that you missed. As your own eyes trailed to his lips and took him in a kiss again. He wrapped his arms around your back pulling you close afraid of letting you go again. He rest burried his head in the crook of your neck before breathing in your scent and sighed. Both of you sharing this moment in silence and connected with the same happiness and relief .

#dazai imagine #bsd imagine #bsd #bsd scenarios #bungo stray dogs #dazai x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #dazai osamu #bsd dazai #bungou stray dogs dazai #bsd imagines #bsd x reader #bsd x you #bsd x female reader #dazai x you #dazai x fem reader

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prettynice8 · 5 months

Text

Kinkmas Day 14: Authority Kink

Pairing: Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez x male reader

This guy

Summary: So, this is kind of a part 2 to my day 9 Aizen fic, where reader after smashing Aizen goes back to their room, and a surprise.

Warnings: Kissing, smashing, creampie, cheating? fluff? spanking, authority kink DUH

Word count: 1509

Kinkmas Day 9:

You awake in Aizen's arms, and to his perfect face smiling down at you. You are still naked, though a blanket is covering you.

"Morning sleepy head." He greeted me.

'How long was I out?" You asked, still dazed from just waking up.

"About 9 hours," he answered, "you were smiling the whole time you were asleep."

"Oh my god, I'm sorry for wasting your time for so long." You apologized, trying to get up and out of his chair.

"Don't be, I'm glad you were here." He said, reeling you back on to his lap, laying your head on his chest. "But now that you are up, I need you to go back to your room." Your face drops slightly at the order, for you want to be with him as long as possible. He notices this and says,

"Don't frown, after last night, we will absolutely meet again." He comforted, a smile returning to your face, which he cups in between his hands. "In fact, we shall have dinner tonight." Your face lights up at what he said.

"A date?" You questioned. His brows knit together, almost as if he is in deep thought.

"I suppose you could call it that. Yes, a date." He stated. You almost jump out of your chair, but not before he places a kiss on your cheek. You make it to the door; your hand reaches for the handle, but you look back and smile at him.

"A date." He confirmed before you try to open the door, forgetting that it was near impossible for a normal human like you to do. You struggle for a while until it automatically opens for you. You jump back at the surprise, but quickly calm down when you see Grimmjow as the one who opened the door for you, offering a kind smile, though you do notice a tint of frustration by the way his eye twitches when he looks at you, and then at Aizen, then back to you.

"I'm taking you to your room." He stated simply, the smile gone right when he closed the door behind you, the loud noise causing you to jump again, Grimmjow's intimidating presence not helping. "Now come on." He then grips onto your arm, practically dragging you towards your living quarters.

You don't know why, but when he told you to come along, you felt a weird feeling in your stomach, the same feeling that you felt when you met Aizen last night when you walked towards his throne.

After that there is a long gap of silence, making the long journey to your room feel like an eternity, the air thick with Grimmjow's anger makes the time go by even slower, you're practically shaking, the only thing concealing you being Aizen's very own robe, and Grimmjow unusual quiet and snippy attitude adds to the eeriness of this entire situation.

"His stench is all over you." Grimmjow randomly exclaimed, catching you off guard. He then starts to grip your arm even harder, causing you to let out a yelp of discomfort.

"Grimmjow stop, you're hurting me." You pleaded, his bruising grip on your arm too much to bear. From this he shoves you into the wall, causing you to let out another shriek of pain.

"Shut up." He demanded, caging you to the wall with his arms, tired of this whole situation that Aizen and you have put him in. "Do you think I want this, having to be around you after what he did?" You look utterly confused by what he said.

"Fucking idiot, you have no idea what it's like." He exclaimed.

"Grimmjow I-"

"I said shut the fuck up, and don't you dare say my name like that." He demanded once again. You open your mouth, about to say something but the hateful look in his eyes deters you from doing so.

"Take that fucking robe off. Now." He ordered, "I can't stand the smell anymore."

"But I don't have anything on un-"

"SHUT THE FUCK UP ALREADY!" He screamed, cutting you off once again. "Haven't I told you that enough." After not taking the robe off, Grimmjow takes matters in his own hands, ribbing it off himself.

The cold air hits you immediately, though after all of this, you still can't shake the feeling whenever he orders you to do something.

"Why?" You asked, your voice barely audible.

"What?" Grimmjow questioned, practically screaming at you, causing your voice to shake more.

"Why are you doing this?" You asked, it becomes harder to speak due to the tears welling up in your eyes. "Why are you acting so mean, what did I do to you? Whatever it is, I'm so sorry, just tell me and I'll make it up to you." You said, straight up crying near the end.

You start to become a bawling mess, completely shocked by Grimmjow's sudden crude actions. He softens up, slowly becoming aware of how he's hurting you, though he's still giving you an enraged glare, just died down.

His answer to this breakdown is a kiss that completely shocks you, luckily no one else is around to see a Grimmjow kissing Aizen's prize. He holds this for a while, while also holding you in his arms as your hands rest in his arms, not pushing him away, just lying there.

"I told you to stop talking." He said, his voice still having a bitter punch to it, contradictory to his actions. It's silent for a while as you look dumbfounded into Grimmjow's face. He ends this silence, demanding things from you again.

"Kiss me." He demanded; the similar feeling develops in you when he says it. You still do as he asks, going up on your tippy toes to reach his surprisingly soft lips.

For someone who's only been human for a few months, he's surprisingly good at this, his lips moving perfectly in sync with your own. You break a way for air though, only getting in a quick breath before he goes back down to embrace you again.

"Open your mouth." He ordered, you obeyed, doing exactly as he said. He then slips his tongue into your mouth, surprising but you still go along with it. His tongue dances along with yours, dominating the entire situation, not that you're complaining.

His hands start to rub at your already erect nipples, pinching them between his hands. He puts them between his index fingers and thumbs, squeezing and rubbing them sensually, causing you to moan into the kiss. Then, you feel something hard poke at you, surprising you once again. Grimmjow notices this and states,

"That's what you did, and you're gonna fix it." Before taking into your room, which you two have been in front of this whole time. He picks you up bridal style, making you giggle, the noise music to his ears. He then sets you down on the bed, taking his clothes off before getting in with you.

"Spread your legs." He commanded, which you obeyed instantly. He then sets his dick in front of your hole, and by God is it huge. It's both girthy and long, with a bit of light blue pubes.

"I'm going in." He warned, doing as he said. At first, it's awfully painful, well for a while it is, taking a while to fit all the way in. He kisses you deeply, relaxing you enough to where he can finally be balls deep inside.

He stays there for a while, staring into your eyes with a smile, not a speck of anger or frustration in his face, just adoration.

Finally, he starts to move, at first painfully slow, not wanting to hurt you too much, but not much later, when he decides that you are ready for it, he starts to increase his speed.

His hips begin to clash into yours, your shrieks quickly transform into moans of pleasure.

"Louder." He ordered, which you once again obeyed, your moans crescendo into practically the only other sounds in the room, apart from the skin slapping together.

Thank God the walls aren't thin because even now if anyone was in a 20-meter radius they could hear the passionate embrace you two are sharing right now.

Grimmjow puts your legs over his shoulders, hitting somehow even deeper than before, causing your screams of pleasure to be even louder, even Grimmjow lets out a moan or two here and there, not being able to keep up the cool guy act forever.

Only a few more thrusts and deep kisses from Grimmjow, his tongue going in your mouth once again, practically exploring it, is enough for you to climax. He lasts a little longer, using you as his own personal object of release. After a few final, slow but strong thrusts, he combusts inside you.

You two lay there, his dick still in your ass as you drift to sleep in his arms. He doesn't do so as quickly, wanting to stare at your peaceful slumber for a little while longer.

THE END

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