#laid my head down and felt another stab of pain but more like pressing on a bruise or a cut

[goosefruit]

healing

vanessa shelly x reader

tw: smut, vanessa’s stab wound, fingering, squirting, bottom!vanessa, basically trying to navigate sex while she’s recovering from an injury

a/n: not my best work but i’ve had this idea in my head for so long so i wrote it

================================================

‘Grateful’ didn’t even begin to describe how you felt when Vanessa was finally discharged from the hospital. 

She was there for roughly a month, half of which she spent in a coma. You stayed by her side the entire time, only leaving to use the bathroom and shower. There were times when you were afraid that she would never wake up again.

But now that she was back home, you took care of her like a princess. You brought her breakfast in bed every day (though she insisted she could walk, you knew it took her a great deal of effort), prepared baths for her, and sang to her when she had trouble sleeping.

Two weeks into this recovery process, you had woken up to her whimpering and writhing in the middle of the night.

Thinking she was having another nightmare about her father, you wrapped your arms around her, carefully avoiding her still-tender scar. However, upon getting a closer look, you realized that she was wide awake.

“Is the pain keeping you up?” You were already reaching towards the nightstand  where a bottle of painkillers was readily available. 

“No, baby,” she choked out. “It’s my pussy. It won’t stop throbbing, and I can’t fall asleep.”

If it weren’t for the agony in her voice, you swore that you would’ve made fun of her for acting like a bunny in heat.

“Have you…orgasmed at all in the past two weeks?” 

“I tried! So many times. But every time I got close, my abs would tense up, and then I’d be too busy worrying about the pain from my wound to finish.”

“Nessa, my love,” you positioned her so that she was sitting up with her back to your chest. One hand drifted down to her inner thigh, rubbing it through her pajama pants. “May I?”

She nodded eagerly as she wiped at a tear that had formed in the corner of her eye. The both of you had missed this so much, but you promised yourself that you would only make love to her again once she had completely recovered. 

Was this breaking that promise? You didn’t want to hurt her, but she seemed like she would be hurting more if you didn't start touching her soon. 

So you allowed your hand to move closer to her center as you captured her lips in a kiss. She gasped into your mouth when you ran a finger down her clothed slit. Her pussy was soaked to the point where you could easily feel the wetness through her pants. 

“Aw, my poor baby,” your middle finger traced the slightly protruding shape of her clit. “I’m going to make you feel so good, okay? You just try to relax every muscle in your pretty body.”

With your help, she slipped out of her pajamas so that she was completely naked, patiently waiting with her legs spread as you took off your own clothes. Since this was the first time you were having sex in a long while, you wanted to do it unclothed and properly.

You were on top of her now, trailing kisses up and down her body. Upon reaching her abdomen, you took the time to press your lips all around the bumpy red patch on her right side. She had been afraid to let you see the scar when she first woke from her coma, thinking it’d gross you out. Now, all you wanted to do was show her how perfect you thought every inch of her was. 

“Fuck, yeah…” she let out a blissful moan as you circled her entrance, dipping your fingers in just far enough to rub against her sweet spot. 

“Breathe, baby, breathe.” You whispered as you slid two fingers all the way in. Vanessa thrusted her hips up out of habit and cried out from the strain on her injury. 

“Shit!”

It ended up taking you several different positions until you found one that she was comfortable in. She laid on her back with her hips propped up on a pillow while your fingers pumped rhythmically in and out of her. 

“You tell me if it’s too much, my love.” Your free hand squeezed her breast, mouth leaving little marks on her neck.

“I’m gonna cum, Y/N. Fuck, it feels so good. I missed you so much.”

The hand that was playing with her nipples reached down to gently rest on her hip, reminding her to relax. At the same time, you went up to kiss her passionately. Her favourite way to cum was with your tongue in her mouth, so that was how you were going to do it tonight.

When you finally felt her walls tighten around your fingers, she whimpered as her muscles spasmed. The relief that she had been seeking all week long was so overwhelming that tears rushed to her eyes. 

“You okay? Did I hurt you?” You checked her face for any sign of pain. 

“No, no, don’t worry. I’m fine,” she panted, eyes closed as a few aftershocks washed over her. “But…I think I squirted.”

The wet patch on the pillow below her confirmed her statement. How cute.

“Give me a second, I’m gonna clean you up.”

You brought a damp washcloth from the washroom to wipe away the stickiness on her thighs. By the time you were done, she had already passed out on the bed.

Spooning her, you whispered sweet nothings in her ear. You told her how strong you thought she was, and how afraid you were of losing her. You must’ve whispered ‘I love you’ a hundred times by the time sleep overtook you.

#fnaf x reader #vanessa afton #vanessa fnaf #vanessa shelly #vanessa shelly x reader #vanessa shelly smut #wlw nsft #wlw smut #vanessa monroe

[werewolves-are-real]

Time Travel Temeraire snippet

At first, Laurence assumes he's dead.

It's a natural conclusion. He remembers dying, after all.

He and Tenzing were at a function hosted by Wellesley. They were mostly there to support the dragons. Temeraire had long abandoned them to quarrel with Perscitia in the courtyard, with half a dozen ferals watching like it were a jousting match. Wellesley had laid out his grounds to allow room for dragons and men to mingle, but a good portion of the guests retreated inside to avoid the raised voices of the dragons.

Laurence wonders how Temeraire felt about that, later. About not seeing.

He was stabbed. He barely remembers it – just a quick pulse of pain in his chest, looking down. Red blooming over his coat.

Then he was on the floor. People screamed. Tenzing appeared, grappling with a tall and finely-dressed man; he used a dinner-knife to punch a hole in the stranger's throat, in a fantastic spray of blood, and dropped the body at once to kneel by Laurence's side.

He remembers Wellesley barking orders – bandages, water, a hot knife. Have to cauterize it, he'd shouted. Keep pressure -

But Tenzing never spoke. Just pressed down on Laurence's chest, over the wound, without particular panic. Laurence still remembers the grim resignation on his face; Tenzing knew what was coming. Laurence was glad to have him there when he died.

Then Laurence woke up.

The world sways in a familiar way, a rhythmic motion that Laurence registers on a soul-deep level. He's on a ship. But why? Where is Tenzing, Temeraire? Why would they put him on a ship?

“I think the fever's breaking,” says a voice. A naval doctor, disheveled and salt-stained, with long scars down his bared arms. “Oh, and awake too!”

“Well thank Christ,” says another man. One Laurence recognizes.

It's Captain Gerry Stuart – but he looks different, younger than the last time Laurence saw him, with smooth skin and dark curly hair.

Gerry died two years ago.

“Well, Lieutenant! You gave us a scare – how are you feeling?” Gerry asks.

“It's Admiral,” Laurence corrects rather than all the other things he does not dare ask. He hates the title foisted upon him; but it's at least more comprehensible than Lieutenant, and he clings to that rather than demand where did you come from.

Stuart throws back his head to cackle, though the concern doesn't leave his face. “Still perhaps a bit feverish, I think!”

“That might be the laudanum,” says the doctor, also amused. “Why don't you sleep a bit more, Lieutenant?”

“But where is Temeraire? Or Tenzing?”

“I can only assume you had some very vivid dreams,” Stuart chuckles. “You were babbling and babbling for Temeraire – isn't that a ship?”

“Perhaps the flagship of his fleet,” suggests the doctor, and Stuart laughs again. “Get some rest, Mr. Laurence. Holler if you need me.”

They both exit the sick-berth. Laurence stares blankly at the door.

What?

Laurence pats his chest. No wound. He looks down, startled by the pale thinness of his fingers, his youth-soft skin.

Well; not soft. Callouses cover his hands. But even these patterns are different – hard skin in places where he would hold a sword, or pulls ropes. His hands should be more wrinkled, yes; but these callouses faded years ago.

“Where am I?” he asks when the doctor returns. “And what is the year?”

“The year? 1793. You don't remember?”

1793. Laurence was 19 in 1793. A lieutenant for two years, on the Shorewise.

The doctor narrows his eyes. “What's my name, lad?”

Laurence swallows. His stomach churns; for the life of him he can't remember.

The doctor rushes off to retrieve the captain.

_____________________________

Laurence is diagnosed with brain fever, and partial amnesia. Gerry is horribly guilty about laughing, earlier; Laurence could not care less. He is given strict orders to stay on bed-rest for another week, in hope his strength will recover – and his mind.

Laurence doesn't think he'll have any issues working – he's forgotten many of the people around him, true, but he may never forget the way to run a ship. He's far more concerned with learning what happened.

From all appearances, it is indeed 1793. France is undergoing riots, and declared war against Britain in February. Temeraire has not hatched. Napoleon is probably a corporal or general himself, at this point. If he exists at all. God knows, perhaps Laurence is only mad.

But he doesn't feel mad. His memories are too vivid to be mere fever-dreams. A man cannot dream up twenty years of life!

But neither can a man go back to his youth, and live it all again.

I have a dragon, he thinks of saying. There is no war, because I captured Napoleon – an unknown man who makes himself emperor.

Mad. It sounds mad even to Laurence himself. But to imagine that Temeraire was a fever-ridden dream... Tenzing and Granby and China, all of it...

Laurence doesn't share his turmoil with anyone – not even with Gerry, who checks on him fretfully. After a week the doctor declares him well enough, physically. He's paired always with another lieutenant for the first few days on duty, and his shipmates watch him carefully for signs of permanent debilitation; but aside from a moment or two of hesitance, Laurence competently resumes his duties. The oversight lessens.

Laurence thinks about writing letters.

He thinks about writing to Tharkay's late father, who ought to still be alive, inquiring after his son. He thinks of writing to Prince Mianning, asking about the health of Lung Tien Qian. He thinks of writing to young Midshipman Granby, his unwed brother, his dead father...

Not all of them would reply. But he could ask questions. Could verify the truth of things. Unless this, instead, is the delusion.

Is he in 1793, imagining the future? Is he in the future, imagining the past? Or maybe he is already dead, and this is the reality of hell. He came here burning with fever, and now he burns with fear. Surely that is it's own form of torture.

Laurence is ironically given the task of tutoring the midshipman and lieutenant-hopefuls more than any other duty as the weeks pass; his crewmates still look askance, and the more eager of the midshipman become protective. Laurence remains perfectly capable of command; it is only that he can't help but be absent-minded, sometimes, staring at all the crewmen that pass him like they are nothing but moving paintings. Images of a world that no longer matters.

One evening the midshipmen drag him away to a meal with the other officers. It's a noisy crowd; Laurence would find the friendly bustle comforting in another life.

One of the senior officers, Lieutenant Moore, waves him down as Laurence enters. Evidently they used to be friends, given his notably concerned behavior of late. Laurence can't remember the man, and has a sneaking suspicion he died too soon to make a lasting impression.Moore jostles him when Laurence sits at the long table. “Will! Did you get any letters with the last batch?”

A patrolling gunboat brought a satchel of letters just this morning. “I did not,” Laurence says. He's grateful for the fact. He'd found a few pieces of correspondence in his quarters that he dutifully sent on; he cannot imagine writing a letter now, in this confused state.

“Then you've had no news! Robespierre has gone mad. Madder than before, I suppose.”

“Robespierre?” asks Laurence blankly.

Lieutenant Moore double-takes, as does everyone else around them. “Good lord, Will, please tell me you remember Robespierre?”

Right... Robespierre's reign was brief, but this is when he led France. Some of the things the papers published...

Well, at least Laurence has a well-worn excuse for his ignorance. He plays up his malady: “Yes. I think I recall he was... French?”

Groans of horror mixed with amusement echo around the table. “...Well you aren't wrong,” says Moore, looking pained. “He has styled himself the 'President' of their Assembly, which is some stupid way of being king; the French are all mad about removing and adding words right now. I don't know how they expect anyone to hold a conversation.”

“We should... probably educate Mr. Laurence about the war at some point,” some midshipman mutters. Laurence doesn't recall his name.

Moore sighs again. “Anyway. Robespierre is a tyrant, of course. But he's elected someone else to rule France! Barely more than a boy, too.”

Laurence frowns; he doesn't remember what Moore's talking about. “Why would he do that? Did they capture one of the Bourbons?” Declaring himself regent of a child-prince would at least make sense.

“Well, at least you remember them. No; it is some nobody, a young soldier. Not even French! I cannot fathom it.”

It feels like Laurence has been dunked in ice.

For a moment he can't respond. “What was his name? The soldier.”

“Napoleon Bonaparte. He has been chosen as head of their new heresy, the 'Cult of the Supreme Being,' they're calling it; and now de facto head of the government, too. Must be a priest? I don't know, nothing the French are doing makes sense. I expect his little group will be as short-lived as everything else about these riots.”

But Laurence doesn't think so. “...Excuse me; I'm feeling a bit poorly,” he says, rising on wavering legs.

“Yes, you look it! Go on, we'll tell you about the war later...”

Laurence flees.

#posting bc i have no idea where this is going or if I'll do anything with it #it's just a funny stupid idea #Laurence travelling in time: I have gone mad. I am plagued by visions. God is punishing me for my Sins. This is purgatory. #Why is this happening? What moral course of action can I take under these circumstances? #Napoleon travelling through time: No idea how this happened. Neat. Time to hijack a cult and rule my country even earlier. #basic concept is Laurence has an ongoing existential crisis about his Place In The Universe #but also he is determined to stop Napoleon #who is delighted and fascinated they BOTH came back and sort of indulgently lets him try #basically resulting in Laurence becoming Napoleon's unwilling advisor frantically trying to do damage control in between bouts #of philosophical dread and despair #“Poor Mr Laurence was loyal before the brain fever we swear” #meanwhile Laurence is in France just trying desperately to make Napoleon Stop #etc etc #Temeraire

[guess-my-next-obsession]

relax

pairing: din djarin x f!reader

warnings: talk of painful menstruation (i’m a pcos girlie and these are my personal symptoms/levels of pain—everyone menstruates differently), din being a worrisome little lad like always

word count: 1.4k

a/n: this is just me living vicariously through reader since i am on my stupid ass cycle and had to fix my leaking air conditioning unit today

You were not one to wait around for a man to do something for you, especially when you were more than capable of doing it yourself.

The cooling system for the Crest had been leaking water for days now, coinciding with the start of this month’s cycle—meaning, you were more than fed up. Din had been out everyday trying to hunt his latest bounty, an illusive one it seemed given Din’s struggle. By the time he got home in the evenings, he was either exhausted, sore, or frustrated—all of which causing him to neglect the leak.

You knew he had his plate full between hunting this bounty, providing for you and the kid, giving the two of you enough attention when he was home, and having to deal with your period symptoms—you may have had a tendency to be a bit snappy with him during your time of the month. So, while Din was out at work, you forced yourself out of bed and onto your feet, your uterus suddenly punishing you for the choice as your lower belly clenched with a pain you could only describe as unbearable.

Still, you were a determined young lady, and you were going to fix this all on your own.

Dragging one of Din’s storage crates over, you slid it right in front of the system, stepping onto it so that you were eye level with the machinery. Your hands used an assortment of Din’s tools to take the face off the cooler, tugging it off and lowering it down to the floor. As you moved to stand up, a contraction-like cramp struck you, causing you to squat down on the crate, your body nearly doubling over and forcing you to the hard durasteel floor of the cargo hold.

“Fuck,” you whined, eyes squeezed shut as your hands held your stomach, hoping the warmth of your palms would soothe the tension.

After a few moments, the pain dwindled back down into just a dull ache, allowing you the ability to finally stand again. Your head spun as you stood up quickly, hands pressing against the wall in front of you, it’s cold steel doing wonders for your overheated flesh.

Gathering your wits, you went back to work with the system, cleaning out the clogged drain until the leak had gone away completely. A proud smile grew on your face as you looked at the results of your handiwork, but it was soon interrupted by another stabbing cramp.

“Oh my god.” You whined again, tears falling down your cheeks as you winced. You lowered yourself into a squat on the crate again, this time struggling to stay upright as the pain kept squeezing and squeezing.

“Finally did it.” Din walked into the ship via the ramp, his bounty handcuffed beside him. When he saw you doubled over on the crate, crying and panting in absolute anguish, he didn’t think twice. He pushed the bounty into the carbonite freezer, not caring much about whether or not the bounty deserved it. He lunged towards you and kneeled by the crate, his hand rubbing your back as the other stroked your sweaty face. “Mesh’la, what happened?”

“Cramps,” you croaked, the cramp finally beginning to fade away as you now laid in the fetal position on the crate, Din’s gloved hand stroking sweat covered locks of hair out of your face. “But at least I fixed the cooler.”

“My sweet angel,” he wanted to chuckle at your sheer determination, knowing well by now just how out of service you become during your time of the month. Then, he suddenly felt terribly guilty as he realized that you were only on your feet doing this because he hadn’t. “I should’ve fixed it three days ago when you mentioned it. You should be in bed, relaxing…not tinkering away on your feet.”

“Well, I knew you had a lot on your shoulders, and I knew how to fix it, so…thought it wouldn’t be too bad.” You finally opened your eyes, looking into the black of his visor, your hand trembling in exhaustion as you reach to touch the cold beskar of his helm with your palm. He leaned into your touch, thumb stroking over your cheekbone. “Can you help me back to bed?”

“Of course,” he stood up, holding his hand out for you as you reached for him, using his body for stability as you climbed off the crate and onto your feet. Din’s arm held your waist as he walked you back to the bunk, Grogu passed out in his sling. “Surprised the kid didn’t wake up to use his powers on you.”

“Why do you think he’s still passed out? He kept doing it all morning. Poor little guy,” you rested your body back against the mattress, tugging your blankets over your form now that the ship was properly beginning to cool.

Din sat at the edge of the cot and took his helmet off, shaking out his half-damp hair before moving to take off his armor, flight suit, and gloves. Before you knew it, he was curling up behind you, his big, warm hands spread out over your lower stomach that was swollen with a painful bloat. He kissed your shoulder and felt you cuddled back against him even further, humming in appreciation for the relief his hands brought.

“You caught the bounty,” you finally spoke after ten minutes of relishing in his soothing presence. Din chuckled against the shell of your ear and nodded, kissing your hairline. “How’d you finally do it?”

“Carefully.” He mumbled before leaving another tickling kiss to your skin. “I hired a lady to flirt with him and get him drunk at the cantina. It’s surprising how easily men get distracted when a woman’s involved.”

“You say it as though it’s a revelation.” You joked, turning a bit so that you were on your back, Din’s body still resting on his side and looking down at you. He smiled at you softly, eyes taking in your every feature. You were completely natural today, not an ounce of makeup on your face, your hair not even brushed. Still, even with your flushed cheeks and sweaty hair, you looked like an angel to him. He leaned in to press a slow, tender kiss to your lips, full of affection and care.

“I know you’re the best mechanic on this ship, but please remember to take it easy. Your body’s working overtime right now. No more tinkering away unless I’m here to catch you when you fall.” He ordered, full of concern and care for your well being. You nodded, grinning at him as you combed your fingers through his messy head of curls. You hadn’t seen him helmetless since the night previous, and although it had only been about a day since, it was too long. “Are you listening to me or checking me out?”

“Both.” He chuckled at your honesty, leaning down and pecking you once more before briefly leaving you. You pouted at the sudden chill at the loss of his hands on your stomach, the pain slowly creeping back to you. Din locked up the ship and the carbonite bounty, making sure everything was secure for the night before coming back to the bunk. He pressed the button to close the door, then flicked off the light, climbing back behind you and hugging you tight once again. “Can you keep your hands on my stomach for a while? It kept the cramps at bay.”

“Of course, mesh’la.” He kissed your shoulder before nuzzling his head against yours, the two of you getting cozy in preparations for a good night’s rest. “You know…there’s a way we could put a stop to this whole ordeal for a while…”

“Din,” you chuckled and shook your head. “Isn’t one baby enough for you?”

“Grogu would love a little pal.” He defended with a smile, his voice turning into mumbles as sleep began to overtake him. You grinned to yourself and allowed sleep to wash over you as well, keeping the fact that the thought of having his child made your heart swell twice it’s size in your chest to yourself for tonight. “Y/N?”

You were almost asleep when you heard him whisper in your ear. “Yeah, baby?”

“I love you. Just realized I haven’t said it today.” A sleep-laced chuckle left your lips, a goofy grin spread across your face.

“I love you, Din. Now, I think it’s my turn to tell you to relax.” He chuckled and nodded. “Let’s get some rest.”

“Goodnight, angel.” He rasped, kissing your head. You nuzzled into the pillow and hummed contently, your hand resting over his on your stomach.

“Goodnight, my love.”

taglist: @joelmillerscoffee @ajeff855 @wildemaven @axshadows @sherala007 @browneyes-issac @tooflef @mariasabana @tae27 @kimm4710 @stxrrylunatic @paulalikestuff @jbh-castaway @mandomover @chxpsi @marvel-sw-lover @jediknight122 @harriedandharassed @star-wars-fan-2005 @alwaysdjarin @trickstersp8 @idkifimaliveanymore @trinkets01 @chloeinpink @alwaysdjarin @tizylish @jessie-skywalker (sorry if your tag isn’t working! and please let me know if you’d like to be added/removed from similar content)

#din djarin fic #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin fluff #din djarin x you #din djarin x reader #din djarin #mando fluff #mandalorian x reader #mandalorian x y/n #the mandalorian fanfiction #pedro pascal fic

[glitterpeachtree]

You were stabbed by Lloyd. You were laying on the ground basically unconscious. Six ran up to you and felt for a pulse. He then listened to make sure your airways were clear. In doing so he lifted your chin up to ease your breathing.

"(Y/N)? (Y/n)? You with me?" You fluttered your eyes going in and out of consciousness. Next he lifted your shirt to see your stab wound. He took his jacket off and wrapped it around your waist, tying it to stop the bleeding. You had already lost a lot of blood. You were white, and shaky. Court pressed on your wound with one hand as he took your pulse again with the other. You winced, making a moaning sound.

"Sorry. Gotta stop the bleeding. Try to stay awake. Look at me." I kept blinking my eyes I was very light headed. A couple of minutes later he lifted me in his arms and put me in a truck. Court leaned my seat all the way back and elevated my legs on the dash. I was in shock. Court zoomed through town.

Finally he lifted me into a small closed clinic. Only one nurse was there, she was a part of Fitzroy's network.

He rushed me inside, "She's lost a lot of blood." Courtland laid me on a bed.

The nurse noticed how pale I was. "She's need a hospital. Im just a nurse." The nurse said.

"That's okay. I know field medicine. Just get two units of O neg, IV tubing, and saline. Also a suture kit, and lidocaine." He said quickly. He gently took off the jacket that was holding your wounds together.

"Hurts." I slurred.

"It's gonna be okay. I'm gonna stitch it up okay? Try to relax." Court brushed the side of my face with his hand. The nurse came back with supplies.

"Can you set up the blood infusion? Hand me the clorahexidine and lidocaine." I could hear Court washing his hands, and putting gloves on. He poured the clorahexidine in my wound. I winced at how cold it felt. Next he inserted the needle. That hurt a bit. I flinched.

"Deep breath. It'll be numb in a second. Just keep breathing." He waited a couple minutes, then I heard a metal clank. He was now suturing my incision. I don't remember much from this. I lost consciousness. But next thing I knew, I had a big bandage across my waist. I also had an IV going in my arm. A blood transfusion. Court placed me in the car, and the nurse put a bunch of medical items in the back. I was so cold, I started shivering. The unamed nurse put a scratchy blanket over me.

"Good luck Mr. Gentry." The nurse said.

"Thanks." Court said.

.....

I slept for most of the ride. I kept feeling Courtland holding my wrist for a couple seconds to make sure I still had a pulse. When I came to, I woke up in a small bedroom, and IV in my arm. It was being held up by a coat rack. I started coughing a little bit.

Courtland came into view, and held a glass of water to my mouth. "Easy. Take it slow." He set the glass down next to me. I was so tired, I could barely keep my eyes open. "The morphine is probably making you drowsy. Just rest." He softly squeezed my hand.

......

The next day I felt a bit more awake. I was awake for couple minutes before Court checked on me.

"Oh. You're awake. How are you feeling? You're due for another dose of morphine." Court said. He crouched so that he was in your field of vision.

"I feel kind of floaty?" My voice came out rough and quiet.

"Probably blood sugar. I got apple juice." Court turned around and offered orange juice. I took a couple of sips with his help, I was still kind of shaky.

"You need morphine?" Court asked.

"No." I simply said.

"You're not in pain?" He questioned.

"I am. Don't want to get addicted." I said as I rested my eyes. My brother had a drug problem and it scared me to death to end up like him.

"You're not gonna get addicted if you need it." He ignored my request and took the syringe, plunging it into the vial and then pulled back on the stopper to the correct dosage. He then injected it into your IV. I was too tired to argue.

"Let's look at the damage." Court gestured to my wound. He then went into the bathroom and washed his hands, and collected chlorhexidine and a new bandage.

He started to peel away the old bandage. "Where am I?" I asked.

"Safe house." He simply said he was inspecting my wound, making sure the stitches were still intact, and that there was no sign of infection.

"What are you, a doctor?" I asked.

He looked up at me and said, "Not exactly. I was taught battlefield medicine." He started pouring and dabbing away with antiseptic.

"Ow." I winced.

"Sorry." He mumbled. He waited a minute for the antiseptic to dry, and then he applied a clean new bandage. I shortly fell asleep from the morphine as Court checked on me every half hour.

#ryan gosling #sierra six #the gray man #courtland gentry #fanfic #fanfiction #ryan gosling imagine #ao3 #sierra six x reader #sierra six x y/n #can you feel the kenergy #im just ken #kenergy #ken #barbie 2023 #margot barbie #the barbie movie #barbie the movie #barbie movie #barbie #barbenheimer #margot robbie #hurt/comfort

[katnissdoesnotfollowback]

the red riding hood au sounds interesting (but also the midnight train sequel)

Hey Anon. The red riding hood AU was actually an efe prompt from 2017 maybe? It's been long enough that I'm not even positive about the date anymore. Anyways, the prompt was for an Everlark AU based around the film In the Company of Wolves, which is super creepy and plays very heavily onto the theme of sexual awakening and assault often interpreted in the original Red Riding Hood story since the phrase "to see the wolf" was often once upon a time used as a metaphor for sexual awakening, losing one's virginity, especially in regards to young girls. My story turned into a hot mess of total disorganization since I had a hard time settling on which aspects of all my fave versions of Red to include, which aspects of the movie to include and how to incorporate a more "happy" ending than the film allowed, which was also part of the initial prompt. In particular, I really liked the way fables and stories were used in the film so that's been one of the trickier aspects to include. There was one chapter posted to the efe site the year it was technically due, but I'm not sure how much of that original chapter is going to still be standing if I ever get around to finish it. Every now and then, I open up the docs for it and take a stab at it, but it's like wading through molasses at this point. Here's a brief snippet of a later chapter, below the cut along with my answer about The Midnight Train sequel:

“Katniss!” The shout of her name faded as she ran further into the trees, tears plowing tracks through the dirt on her cheeks. She veered away from the path, blindly racing through the shadows. Her bright red shawl flapped behind her, a banner and a trap as it snared on bramble bushes. With a squeal, she wriggled free and kept running. Her father was looking for her, and for once, she was not ready yet to be found.

It was only when she stopped to catch her breath that she noticed her surroundings. The eerie bend of the trees with their reaching, grasping branches. So like skeletal fingers. She’d heard stories of monsters that came out of the deepest shadows of the woods and her heart pounded in panic now, her exertion all but forgotten as she looked this way and that and realized...she did not know where she was. Not without her steadfast father leading the way.

“Papa?” she whispered, already knowing there would be no answer. She tried again, slightly louder this time. “Papa?”

A flash and streak of brown startled her and she turned to run from the imagined threat, her booted feet catching on the exposed root of a fallen tree. She tumbled to the ground and rolled away from the root, right into the hollow left by the tree’s demise. As she landed, her ankle turned and she yelped in pain.

For a moment, she lay there, clutching her injured ankle and staring back at the cross hatch of branches overhead and the pale blue of the late winter sky. A brown squirrel scurried up onto the roots and stared down at her. It’s nose twitched and then it vanished in another flash.

Katniss huffed in exasperation at herself. She’d let a harmless squirrel frighten her into this predicament. How foolish of her. As she sat up to think, a movement across the pit caught her attention. Gasping in real fear, she flailed until her back pressed into the roots. A scream lodged itself in her throat.

Then the wolf whimpered.

His sad eyes watched her warily while she panted and tamped down her panic. As they sat there with the wolf not attacking her, Katniss’ fear ebbed until she could breathe normally. She examined him then, noticing a patch of fur on his side and belly, matted red with blood.

“You’re hurt, too,” she said without thinking. The wolf laid his head on his paws and whimpered again.

Perhaps it was her mother’s healing blood within her, but Katniss felt drawn to help the wolf. Against her better judgment, she moved to her knees to approach the creature.

“Katniss!” her father’s voice rang worried through the trees. Still a good distance away, but it was enough to remind her that sometimes, wounded animals are the most dangerous.

Instead of helping the wolf, she turned to yell to her Papa. Once more, the wolf released a plaintive whine. She froze with her back to the wolf and waited, half expecting it to attack her. And yet, it did not.

Slowly, so as to not startle the wolf, she broke off several of the shorter, more tender roots. Her shirt had ripped sometime during her flight, and she continued the destruction, tearing off a few long strips before sitting and fashioning a splint for herself. As she worked, the wolf watched her. Each glance she took in his direction, she wondered about this wolf. It struck her that it was not a normal wolf. Something in its gaze. In the way it seemed to have already given up on its own survival.

With her ankle secured, she crawled towards the wolf. He lifted his head, but otherwise did not move. Their gazes remained joined as she placed a tentative hand on his scruff and rubbed him the way she’d seen the shepherd in town pet his sheep dogs. The wolf allowed the touch.

“I won’t hurt you,” she told him gently. “I want to help. Can you roll onto your side?”

"Katniss! Wake up!" her father's voice intrudes again and her eyes fly open. She flinches back from the body looming over hers and only relaxes when she finds her father's eyes peering down at her.

"Papa," she says and swallows.

"Bad dream?" he asks and she nods. "Then I'm sorry to do this to you, but you need to get up, or we'll be late."

"Late?" Katniss asks and her stomach immediately sinks again as she hears Prim humming a wedding dance, her slippers skipping down the hall. Of course. Late for her wedding day.

****

As for The Midnight Train sequel, that one turned into a massive, and disturbingly dark story. It's basically Peeta's perspective during the events of the original Midnight Train, extending out past the ending of that into what happens after. But... it jumps around chronologically quite a bit, which is an aspect of it that I don't want to change since it fits the narrative of how connected everything is that happens with Peeta but also how difficult it becomes for him to parse out the Real or Not Real without the actual hijacking taking place. Midnight Train Peeta is a victim of CSA but it's kind of a Lolita story? where he's manipulated, taken advantage of, and his own desires are used to put him in situations that are ultimately unhealthy and/or traumatic. I'm not sure I'm ever going to share this beast. It might just be an exercise in my own character development and writing abilities, but here's a snippet that I don't think I've ever shared on here before. It contains some disturbing behavior by an adult character that's insanely creepy and gross as it is a form of grooming and a precursor to pedophilia. Fair warning. Please don't read if this might trigger you:

When he wakes, he’s too late to do anything but ride it out.

“Fuck fuck fuck,” Peeta mutters as he gathers his sheets and glances at the clock again. “Shit.”

He’s going to be late. He hurries from the room and slips down the hall, pressing himself against the wall then rushing down the narrow stairs meant for the servants. He emerges into the kitchens and turns to head to the laundry, his foot slipping on a rug and his soiled shorts falling off the top of the pile and onto the floor as he regains his balance.

“Fuck.”

“Peeta, is that you?”

Shit shit shit shit shit. His face burns as she finds him with a bundle of dirty sheets and a pair of soiled shorts. Her violet hair is still wrapped around curlers and her robe gapes low over her breasts.

“You alright, sweetie?”

“Fine.” His voice cracks and she smiles at him. He clutches the sheets closer and tries to stuff the shorts inside them where she can’t see the proof of his monstrous selfishness as she approaches.

“The avox isn’t forgetting to change your sheets regularly, is she?”

“No!” He insists, not wanting to get Lavinia in trouble for his problems. “No, I just.. get kind of… sweaty… sometimes.”

“Oh. You’re so sweet. They can still take care of that. That’s why we have them. Just ring for them next time,” she approaches and reaches out to touch his hair. He’s burning with humiliation, caught in his lies and then using something so gross and embarrassing like being a sweaty mess as an explanation? Stupid stupid stupid, just like his father says he is. 

Her nose wrinkles and her eyes drop to the sheets. He knows she can smell it, the ejaculate on his sheets and shorts. He’s so embarrassed, so why the hell is his body responding to her cleavage? A nipple peeks out at him, winking from behind the creamy satin of her robe. Teasing and taunting, and the cause is lost. He shifts the bundle so she won’t see him getting hard. Fuck, already? He just came. Didn’t Mr. Tireseas say it’d take time to recover? Why’s it happening so fast? Her violet eyes jump back up to his. 

“You know… this is all perfectly normal for a boy your age.”

“It is?” She bites her lip and smiles sweetly. Does something with her arms that somehow enhances her already ample cleavage. Now he’s definitely gonna be late if he takes care of this in the shower, or he’ll have to carry his books in front of him the whole way to school.

“Yes. It is. You’re becoming a man, Peeta, and it’s nothing to hide or be ashamed of,” she coos and the words land right in his crotch with an almost comical hardening and a twitch as she keeps petting his arm. 

Yep. Books in front of the crotch today. He can’t stop staring at the curve formed by her pressed together breasts and thinks it looks almost like a smile. The pink nipple forms a dimple of forbidden delight. 

“Is um...Davis…?” He licks his lips and tries not to shudder as she strokes his hair back off his forehead again.

“Don’t worry about what Davis is doing. All boys grow at their own pace. I know you must miss your mother terribly and wish she was here for this confusing time, but I'm so glad you’re here. It’s such a joy to watch you grow.”

He closes his eyes as she leans over to kiss his forehead, closes his eyes so he won’t be staring down the front of her gaping robe and wanting to fall right into the cushion of her breasts as her hand trails soothing over his cheek and then down his arm where she squeezes his bicep.

“Some day, you’re going to make a very fine husband for a very lucky woman. So let all of this happen naturally, learn wherever you can, and don’t worry so much. Everything is going to be fine.”

Her lips kiss his cheek and then nuzzle his ear. She hums. “Mmmm, whatever that cologne is you’re wearing, sweet boy, it’s simply divine.” He’s not wearing cologne. He can’t afford it on the allowance his father sends at the start of each month, but he doesn’t get a chance to say that as she tells him to run along and be a good boy at school.

Scratch the books in front of the crotch. It won’t be enough. He’s gonna have to take a shower and jerk off fast today.

The door to the laundry slams behind him, plunging him into the dark.

“So… how does it start?” Spectacles asks quietly when Peeta finishes recounting the scene, and he presses the heels of his palms into his eyes harder. Remembering the dark of the laundry room as he'd locked the door and taken care of it there, on his already soiled sheets. Before turning on the lights and shoving the whole mess into the machine to was it all away. “Why? Why does it start?”

“Are you saying I’m… unattractive?” Peeta snarks and lifts his hands. The world is still fuzzy but at least he feels more in control of the conversation as the doc shifts uncomfortably in his seat.

“You were a child still. The same age as her son. It seems… unnatural for a mother to pursue a sexual relation with someone who might be her child.”

“You need to get out more, doc. Maybe ditch half of your Capitol formed education. Ask yourself this… if the Capitol breeds a superior intellect of being, then how’d you lose the rebellion? How did you support and maintain and live on an economy fed with the blood of district children? And if you can’t wrap your head around that just yet, keep in mind that I’m not from the Capitol. Not really.”

“You’re suggesting she saw you as a kind of tribute?”

#wips wips wips literally everywhere wips #anonymous #look at that ask

[opalesense]

How would the genshin Bois, zhongli, childe, diluc and kaeya react to a fem traveller stuck in a wall after a harsh battle, they'll help her get out right?...right?

a sight to behold

zhongli, childe, diluc, kaeya & f!reader (NSFW-ish)

1.9k words • ~13 min. read

warnings: just a lot of teasing & dirty thoughts

notes: i was practically rubbing my hands together with evil intentions when i saw this request but i’ll spare the graphic details for another time, otherwise this will be extremely long!! also i wrote them separately here BUT i wouldn’t be opposed if someone requested them to be grouped together instead... anyway, i hope you enjoy this!! >:)

THE WIDELY FEARED PRIMO GEOVISHAP was certainly a sight to behold from above. You quickly understood why so many people often avoided interacting with this beast – it was intimidating even while it slept soundly, its loud snores echoing throughout the cavern despite being so far down. As you stood on the platform above its sleeping form, you studied its details, noticing the element it possessed and strategizing your combat plan quickly, thankful that you could manipulate an element that targetted its weakness. Once you made up your mind, you let out a huff as you took a leap of faith down, letting your glider save you at the last second before you could actually make contact with the ground.

 Your companion followed behind swiftly, the two of you moving gently around the walls of the cavern, careful not to wake the beast from its slumber. In a low whisper, you began to describe your strategy to your partner, but alas, the beast suddenly awoke and interrupted your planning with a ear splitting roar.

 Without a second thought, the two of you dashed to the creature, loosely following the details of the plan you had based on what you were able to say before you got interrupted. The battle was fine at first, but you soon realized how out of sync the two of you became as the fight progressed. Your elemental reactions were getting poorly timed, and it was difficult to keep an eye on each other’s movements with the beast constantly thrashing about and blocking communication.

 In normal circumstances, the two of you excelled in combat together without needing any other support. Maybe it was bad luck, or maybe you bit off more than you could chew this time, but you noticed you were getting knocked around easier than usual. Things were obviously not going your way and you had to think of a solution fast.

 But before you knew it, your distraction with your own thoughts got the best of you. One single swipe of the geovishap’s tail sent you flying across the cavern towards the opposite wall then tumbling on the ragged, rocky edges of floor, certainly leaving cuts and bruises for later. To make matters worse, one more aggressive roar from the beast shook the walls of cavern enough to send chunks of rock tumbling down towards your injured body. Unable to form coherent thoughts, you knew you didn’t have the strength to escape the avalanche. Instead, all you could do was lay there, helpless and bracing for impact, praying to the Archons that you can be saved.

zhongli

 Zhongli made quick work of the beast, using his shield to deliver an extremely effective counter attack and finishing it once and for all. The creature wailed in pain in its dying moments before disintegrating into dust. He expected to see your face on the other side but alas, you were nowhere to be seen.

 “[Y/N]?” his face tensed as he tried to think of where you could have disappeared to. As his eyes darted around the cavern, he immediately noticed a tiny speck of color amongst the rocks on the wall that resembled your clothing. He quickly sprinted towards you, lifting some of the boulders off of you effortlessly using his geo manipulation.

 He began to subconsciously slow down once he saw the way you were displayed in front of him. Your legs were propped up slightly from the rocks underneath you that caved in from the impact. The way your hips curved up caused your skirt to fold back onto you, leaving you completely exposed under his gaze.

 Ungodly thoughts began to race across Zhongli’s mind. He couldn’t help but slowly undress you in his mind, thinking about all the things he could do to you in this moment of vulnerability.

You poor thing... If only we were not in such a potential dire circumstance of life or death, what would stop me from keeping these rocks on top of you, grabbing those hips, and pressing myself against you? It would be the perfect opportunity to keep you still while I have my way with you... Perhaps I should check to see if you’re okay first, and maybe I can trap you with these rocks myself instead. Certainly I could even lift you in a better position for a better fit...

“Stay with me, [Y/N],” Zhongli snapped out of his fantasy and continued to lift the boulders off of you, wondering if he should really go through with his urges. “You will be okay...”

childe

 Childe had noticed you fly across the cavern in the corner of his eye, and watching you land on the floor at such a fierce impact only fueled him to keep fighting. In a fit of a rage and frustration, he summoned his dual blades and quickly turned the tides of the battle towards his favor. He didn’t even need to watch the beast die to know it was dead within seconds, and after his final blow he quickly dashed towards where you landed only to find out you had been crushed by more rocks.

 He let out another yell of frustration, grabbing the boulders one by one and pushing them off of you. “[Y/N]? Can you hear me?”

 “I’m fine, just get these off of me!” you managed to call out from underneath the pile. Relieved that you were alive and well, he managed to push most of the boulders off but hesitated once he got a good look at the way you were laid out in front of him.

 With your legs dangling off the edge of the pile, your ass was comedically exposed towards him, the rest of your upper half still trapped within the remains of the avalanche. Funnily enough, the hem of your skirt had even got trapped above your hips that you were completely exposed, causing Childe to grin evilly.

 “Well, well, well,” he slowly walked over to you and placed a gloved hand on your bare cheek, still slightly out of breath from the heavy lifting. He gave a gentle squeeze, eliciting a gasp from you. “Is this my reward for helping you? If so, I’ll gladly take it now...”

 “Did you forget that I’m stuck? What if I’m badly injured?!”

 “In that case, I’m sure I can make all the pain go away and replace it with pleasure instead,” he gave one final squeeze and chuckled before walking away to grab another boulder. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding... But once you’re out, don’t expect all this help to come for free, you know.”

diluc

 Diluc watched you tumble across the floor with panicked eyes, immediately worrying about your safety but not letting that distract him from the task at hand. In the heat of the moment under the influence of rage and anxiety, he summoned his pyro manipulation to set his claymore ablaze and deliver multiple final blows to the creature, smashing its figure into bits. The beast cried in its final moments and when he was sure it was dead, he dropped his sword as he sprinted towards you.

 Pure panic settled in once he saw you had been crushed underneath the pile of rocks. He pushed himself to run faster, feeling tears form in the corners of his eyes but ignoring it. He didn’t want to lose you – not this easily.

 “[Y/N]!” he called out once he reached the site, “Can you hear me?”

 “I’m here, Diluc. I’m fine,” you reassured him. He deeply sighed in relief as he began to push the boulders off of you. Thank Barbatos you were alive and well! He shook the thought of you being fatally injured away from the forefront of his mind to focus on getting you out of this mess, using his strength to his advantage. But after a few rocks were pushed off of you, his eyes widened at the sight of you, a sight he will never forget.

 While your legs and upper body were still trapped underneath the pile, the first thing Diluc revealed was your ass, exposed by your skirt that was coincidentally trapped above your hips. Your thighs were pinned together, rubbing gently as you squirmed in the rubbish, trying to wiggle your way out. Or at least, he wanted to believe you were wiggling for the sole purpose of getting out, and not to tease him.

 With a nervous gulp, he averted his eyes away from you and resumed his work on the boulders. His mind couldn’t help but drift away into sinful corners, though. He envisioned the way he could firmly grab your thighs, pull down your underwear and...

 “Don’t scare me like that again,” he took a more lighthearted tone to cover up his urges, “I thought you were surely dead.”

kaeya

 After briefly witnessing you get thrown across the cavern, Kaeya managed to finally stab the beast in such a precise weakness point, making it wail in pain until it slowly withered away in its dying moments. He took no time at all to rush over to you, sprinting faster once he saw that you had been crushed by an avalanche.

 “[Y/N], talk to me,” he subtly asked for reassurance that you were still alive as he began to analyze the situation and pinpoint exactly where you were in all this rubbish.

 “I’m okay,” you weakly muttered with a grin, glad that he had come to your rescue, “Just a little bruised, that’s all.”

 Following the trail of your voice, he put his mind to work. He started to strategically push certain rocks so that others would naturally fall off of you without him needing to lift too much. After awhile, he began to spot one of your arms, then your other arm, and with each rock tumbling down he soon revealed the full picture.

 Or at least, a fraction of the full picture.

 He was relieved to see that you had wrapped your arms around your head for protection before the crash, avoiding what would have been an extremely dangerous injury. With your entire body from the chest down still trapped, you felt the need to stretch out your arms in the newly freed space and take a deep breath, glad to finally have some fresh air. “Good morning,” you joked on your bed of rocks.

 Even though he certainly felt some relief, he couldn’t fight the urge to tease you as he cooed over the sight of you so helpless underneath him. With an evil smirk, he pulled out one of the rocks that was supporting your neck, leaving your head hanging off the edge and eliciting a gasp from you. Before you could protest, he propped himself up against the wall with one arm, his body hovering over you and his crotch just inches away from your face.

 “Look at that pretty mouth of yours... You tempt me even in the most dire situations, sweetheart,” he let his free hand run slender fingers across your scalp, slowly massaging you. “Now that I think about it, I do deserve a prize for saving you, don’t I?”

 “Quit running your mouth and just help me get out of here,” you scolded him jokingly. He laughed and shook his head dismissively as he walked away to get back to work, fighting that strong urge to use your throat in such a vulnerable state.

 “If you say so, sweetheart. Maybe some other time.”

#zhongli #childe #ajax #tartaglia #diluc #kaeya #zhongli x reader #childe x reader #ajax x reader #tartaglia x reader #diluc x reader #kaeya x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact smut #genshin impact x reader #mine #bang

[slasherwhxre]

Already enjoying this blog! And love how you write the characters! Could we possibly get a continued version of the ‘catching feelings’? I’d kill to see more of that with Ghostface but with the more one-sidedness in there if you ever get the chance please! (Seriously though, asks aside, I’m realllly glad I stumbled upon you! You have no idea! Made my whole damn night!!)

that's so sweet! <3 very funny you'd say that, I had already written a continuation. I think you'll come to agree it's very one-sided lol

Masterlist

DbD Killers' Reaction to: Catching Feelings for You, pt. 2

|| Characters: Danny 'Jed Olsen' Johnson, Michael Myers, Frank Morrison

words: 2k whoops

[pt. 1] | [pt. 2] (here)

Danny 'Jed Olsen' Johnson:

It had been too easy for his liking, let him say that.

Poor bastards didn't even try to fight Ghostface back.

Not that it would've changed anything. When Danny had a plan, he always did, he'd execute it with near perfection.

Where the hell were you, though? He was getting uninterested while her waited on top of the closed hatch. Of course, it had opened thanks to him.

Danny tutted, you were never going to make it alive at this rate. He opened the hatch back up for you and was surprised at the action. God, when had he turned into this nice person?

Almost gagging, he hid behind a wall.

Soon, your exhausted frame walked over.

Finally, he was mad.

"You're terrible at this."

He popped up from his place. You let out a scream that he savored and fell back. A pained yelp escaped your lips when the cut on your lower thigh met the unnatural earth.

It worked. Little weakling.

"Gosh, see," He chuckled without meaning to. "Not only did you fall, but you fell on your injured leg!" He shook his head in mock disapproval. You squirmed, backing up while clammy hands slipped against the dark dirt.

He walked closer, in no hurry. "What do you want?!"

"You."

The unexpected response heightened the terror. "W.. what?" Your eyes pleaded with him, tears welling up. Ah, beautiful. He burned the image inside his mind before crouching down to your level, seeing eye to mask eye. "No need to be so shy."

"Please, don't-" You begged, words getting choked up in your throat.

He tilted his head. Huh?

"Don't take your picture?" He finished your sentence.

"Pic..picture?" Bewildered eyes looked at the hooded figure.

He looked displeased.

"Fine, but you have to see this one I took of you before."

Taking his camera out, he showed the photo. It captured the five seconds before you had first spotted him watching. You stared at the device like a deer in highlights.

"What, you don't like it?" He teased, slight surprise in his tone. "I'm offended, but I'll let it go." You hoped he didn't mean it.

"No, I-"

"What about this one?" He interrupted once more, the object showing another scene. "Now this. It's good. You have to agree." It didn't seem like he was joking.

You forced a nod, agreeing. "I knew it," He chuckled, "Great minds think alike." You did look excellent in that one, he thought, red was really your color.

He moved to the next one.

A horrifying sight stared back.

The corpse of one of your friends laid still while he stood behind it. "Ahh, not that." He scolded the object. "Unless you want to recreate that one with me." Wink. You couldn't see it of course, but it was the thought that counted, right?

"N. No, I don't-" Danny crossed his arms and puffed out air. "You're no fun."

The only enjoyment he had so far was and stalking you and watching you fall on your butt right in front of him. "Let's take a normal one then, for now."

The last part sent chills down your spine, but you knew there was no other choice but to let it happen. "C'mon," he gestured himself. "Get closer, I won't bite." No, he wouldn't, you reckoned, you'll stab me.

Moving your body besides the killer, you felt weak. Tired.

The blood loss was catching up and making your head spin. At the last second, he grabbed the side of your waist, pressing you into him before the flash went off.

You couldn't see but he was smiling from ear to ear under his disguise. The memorabilia was proof you were his, he'd show all the killers once he was back.

Michael Myers:

He knew the consequences and, he ignored them. Michael promised to do extra well in the next trial instead. You wouldn't be there hopefully, because the Entity counted on him.

In the present, had to follow his heart. Did that sounded right?

Stalking came easy, and it was enjoyable, sure, but much to everyone's disbelief, it had its limits. Even for the Boogeyman.

He knew that you knew already, everyone did. Following you around like a puppy got him some pretty weird stares. Not that you even looked back anymore.

Michael felt ignored.

Reaching another broken machine, you began working on it when another teammate emerged.

"He's watching you. Run, I got this," said Steve. You looked down, "I.. know."

"Well, go. Go get cover." His helpfulness insisted, looking out for you. "Otherwise, you'll be the obsession, he will-"

You interrupted him, feeling guilty at the persistence, knowing it'd be for nothing. "No, I think I already am. It's too late." The voyeur hadn't even spared the others as little as a peek the whole match.

Steve felt a chill.

"Well, that's bad news," Michael noted the sad manner he used. "Then listen to me, you have to-"

"No," you dismissed, the worry in his eyes was too much, "I don't think he wants to hurt me."

It didn't show thanks to his cover, but your words had brought an unknown emotion to his psyche. Were you right? Not even knowing himself, it was strange.

"That's because he's going to keep you for last!"

The fellow survivor raised his voice. Michael didn't like that.

"Wha-, why would he do that?" Suddenly, you felt your heartbeat spike up, beating right in your throat. Simultaneously, the alarm went off, indicating the doors to freedom were opening. It was all a lot to take in at once. "We gotta go right now. Follow m-"

His words left hanging in the air like his body. Michael swiftly grabbed the jock's throat and pulled him up above his height. A coarse yowl echoed throughout the Realm as you fell back with shock, instantly shivering. Covering your open mouth with shaking hands, hot tears forced their way down your cheeks. The Shape jagged his rusty knife inside.

It was over for him. It had been your fault. You had stalled him, hadn't taken his advice and in the end, he had taken the fall for you, sacrificing himself.

Michael felt glad that he hadn't lost his edge after all. You got him too close to it, he believed. Too close for comfort.

Throwing the man like a potato sack, he discarded the body.

You were right, Steve, you talked to the dead man internally, he did leave me for last. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry.

The blood of the once-alive 19-year-old dripped down the pointy item in his grasp, your eyes never leaving the traumatic sight until he turned to your frozen and quivering physique. It was delighting to him that you hadn't even gotten up to run.

Now. A head tilt.

You met his cold eyes at last. What'd he do with you?

Frank Morrison:

He let you go that trial. Bet you hadn't expected that. Gentleman much, Frank?

Unfortunately, his infamy had backfired for the very first time.

You hadn't expected the rest of the survivors to come up to you, fascinated by his lack of wrath toward you. That and an acquaintance had asked him why he had taken mercy on the rookie. What are you implying? He had snarled at the unwanted murderer in Legion's headquarters. It irritated the leader that Ghostboy thought he could just barge in and question his motives. He didn't owe him or anyone an answer.

Much to his annoyance though, his friends were interested too.

Too bad. In actuality, he couldn't say why for sure. Could you blame a killer guy for wanting to make a good first impression?

"Do you have a crush or something?" Ghostface held back a giggle as he said the childish word.

"None of your business."

"That wasn't a no."

"It wasn't a yes either when you asked if you could come over."

"Fine," he threw his hands up, accepting defeat. "Point taken,"

Frank relaxed for a moment, relieved the surprise interrogation was finished. "But if you tell me," Stubborn fucker. "I'll leave and ask if I can visit next time I wanna hang out."

Hmm. Frank considered it for a moment.

A pretty good deal, had it been real. He took out a cigarette from his pocket. Julie, who had been listening, handed him his lighter.

"I can tell when you're bullshitting me."

Danny rolled his eyes beneath the mask. "Ugh, okay, yeah, good job. You called me out. So," he pointed his finger up as if to state a good point on his part, "As a reward, you get to be honest." Frank both groaned and snickered at the desperate attempt. "How dumb do you think I am?"

"Is that a rhetorical question?"

He threw his head back in frustration, looking at the abnormal sky above, wondering what he had done to deserve it all.

"Oh come on, I'm your friend! Humor me." The older man continued before he could respond. "Yeah, yeah, I'm not Legion, whatever, I know." Danny crossed his arms, mask tilted. Frank exhaled. "But I don't have to be Legion to tell her you're crushing on her." Frank's head hadn't turned that fast before in his entire life.

"You wouldn't."

"So, you DO have a crush on her."

He didn't answer that. No comments. Susie and Joey looked at each other with amused smiles. "Jules, you lost. Hand over your mask." Joey called out and the woman sighed. "Fine. Just don't tag dumb shit on it or I'll kill you." She wouldn't.

Frank looked off in the distance, being outed felt awkward. "Cat got your tongue?"

Danny furrowed his brows and mocked him. "Or did you finally ran outta snarky remarks?"

"Have you ever considered not everybody is as talkative as you are?" Guess he had been wrong.

"For your information, yes." He nodded at the man. "I have considered everyone is boring before."

"I'm not boring."

"Is that why you just left her?" The peeved man scoffed, still amazed at the former's actions.

"Couldn't have fucked her on the hook or something?" Frank's headache grew a metric ton. He threw away the remains of his cigarette and stomped on it, infuriated.

"Wait, I got it." He doubted that.

"You don't know how to kiss." The ghost gasped. "Oh, you poor thing," The imitated sadness was over the top. "You lead a gang and yet.." He shook his head, gesturing Frank. "Do you need lessons? But I have to say, I charge a lot."

"Listen, dumbass." The younger man grabbed the visitor's collar, nearly taking off his disguise. His friends were nonchalant at the development. "Fine, fine," Danny backed away.

"I'll just tell her you don't like her then."

His eye twitched in anger.

The out-of-place man knew no boundaries.

Despite fuming inside, he let go of his black clothes and moved aside to cross his arms and glare at him.

Danny could talk the talk, there was no win in arguing with a smooth talker.

Coming into the realization of what the now quiet man was doing, Ghostface put a hand over the mouth of his mask. "No," he breathed in. "No, it can't be."

Frank nodded his head as if to say Yes, it is.

"Not the silent treatment. Whatever will I do," He impersonated defeat right before his tone did a complete 180. "Actually, I know what to do, can 100% say you'll try to kick my ass for it. Anyway, already said too much, bye."

He hurried off like his words, stopping for a moment to wave a dark gloved hand back at Susie.

"Come visit again and do the thing you're going to do!"

You know I will, he said to himself as he walked away.

"Susie," Frank said, voice weary, "Stop encouraging him."

"Ghostie is welcome here." She retaliated, pouting. The rest had no input.

Anyhow, it was too late. Frank would kill him.

If he only could, he'd wish.

Too bad he'd find you before Frank. Entity was sure quick to push you into the hands of a psycho.

He wouldn't forget to mention the important detail after downing you. What? You'd say.

"Oh yeah, he's super enamored. I'm talking head over heels." He'd reply right before sending you back to the campfire.

tag list: @prettycutebunny

#dead by daylight #fanfiction #dbd x reader #slashers #dbd #fanfic #ghostface #michael myers #frank morrison #the legion #danny jed olsen johnson #dbd fanfic #michael myers x reader #frank morrison x reader #ghostface x reader #danny johnson x reader #dbd michael myers #dbd frank #dbd legion #dbd ghostface

[yhwhsdaughter]

Eunuch! Bum x Queen! Reader + King! Sangwoo

word count: 4.1k

tw: sangwoo, noncon, abuse of power, misogyny, murder, cheating, degradation, choking, cursing, minors dni

Ongoing…

[Chapter 2] , [Chapter 3]

Upon sliding the doors open, you were welcomed to blood spraying on your face. Droplets kissed your cheeks and if it was a calmer atmosphere, it would give the illusion of a blush. Reality, however, was much horrifying. Shocked by this, you stopped to assess the scene. Everyone was afraid to move a muscle as the king swung his sword, killing the chief state councilor with a stroke. As his body fell, more blood puddled at your feet, staining your slippers. Once the initial horror faded, you sprang forward, hugging Sangwoo’s midriff. “Your Majesty! Please stop this!” It was a brave or perhaps foolish action, interfering with your ruler. Words falling on deaf ears, he pushed you from him. The closest guard caught your form. Despite his absolute authority, killing nobles without reason, especially high ranking officers, was frowned on.

This is madness.

Your king was beauteous and cruel. A month into his ascension to the throne and he was already crumbling the ideals in which this nation was founded. Stray hairs hung around his chiseled face, tiny beads of sweat mixed with blood giving him a sadistic gleam as he grinned. Looking your way for a moment, he lazily waved at guards, “Take the Queen to her room.” Without a choice, the two of them gently nudged you from the scene. “Your Highness, please follow us.” Though their faces remained unmoving, their tone revealed their true feelings on the matter. Palm pressed against your mouth, you threw one last glance at the massacre before you. Blinking any lingering emotions, you walked away.

—

Pants filled the room as Sangwoo thrusted into you relentlessly. He was angry; even though he’d appointed new council members, he wasn’t sure he could trust them. In his mind, everyone was after his crown. You were angry as well, but for an entirely different reason.

You laid bare before your king, the fine robes that adorned your body pushed aside revealed your soft breasts; legs spread showed the path to your royal cunt. It disgusted you, thinking how many women had been in this bed, in your same position. Though the silk sheets were pristine, it could never truly wash away the sin. He grunted, “Stop overthinking. Just focus on—” he was close “—taking my seed, it’s all that matters.” Uncaring about your pleasure, Sangwoo bent you into an uncomfortable position, one that allowed his member to penetrate your walls at a deeper angle.

You allowed it.

The two of you, mostly you, were under incredible pressure to conceive. Not just a child, but a male heir. The fact that you hadn’t produced a son for the king was worrying to your mother. She wrote, often. It’s all she could talk about in her letters nowadays; there was fear in her that you would suffer as she did. Four miscarriages, three stillbirths, and then you. Highly superstitious, your mother believed that her misfortune was the price for the murder of the heirs by concubines in a fit of jealousy.

“Put a baby in me Sangwoo.”

You nearly begged, if only to end this. Making love wasn’t an option, nor your life a fairytale. No. King Sangwoo only fucked, and in the most inconvenient places too. You’ll never forget the embarrassment endured when you had tea with several noblewomen; your gracious king thought it would be appropriate to do it in a room adjacent to theirs. He bent you over a desk, throwing everything else off it, before sheathing himself inside of you. Emerging twenty minutes later, you couldn’t even look the ladies in the eyes. No one said anything, lest they lose their heads, but they knew.

Spurred by your words, Sangwoo thrusted faster and harder. “Fuuuck.” He stayed attached to you, like a dog, making sure your womb swallowed every last bit of his essence before pulling out. “Get pregnant.” Is all he said to you as he dressed again and exited the chambers. Out of breath and without a care, you laid there on the bed.

—

A life of servitude awaited YoonBum the second he was born. His poverty stricken parents sold him to be a household slave. Doomed to this fate, Bum tried his best to follow through and avoid punishments. Unfortunately, his master was a sadist and everyday, he received a beating.

After running errands, Bum stood in line to receive the bags of rice his master had ordered. It was the last thing on his list before readying to go home and continue working. Being close by, he couldn’t help but overhear several gentlemen talking, “Where is that damned village?!”

The village in question, it seems, was Bum’s hometown. Because it was a tiny place full of peasants and criminals, cartographers didn’t bother putting it on a map. Only those that came from there knew the area. Sangwoo caught him staring. Quickly glancing away, Bum only saw the man motioning to his companions from the corner of his eye. In a matter of seconds, he was facing the man. He was dressed in purple robes and a gat, symbolizing his status. “Do you know where this village is?”

Daring not to look him in the eye, Bum was slow to nod. He’d been out long enough; his master was probably marching towards the market to drag him home. “Show me.” As guessed, a heavy man came barreling in their direction. He was red in the face. “Bum!” Master Yoon screamed obscenities. Coming to a stop, he sneered at the men.

“We need your servant.”

Though the statement seemed like a request, Sangwoo’s tone made it clear that it was an order. The balding man huffed, ready to curse him out and refuse when Sangwoo showed his name tag. It was made of a cool stone, Oh Sangwoo engraved with the royal crest. The fact that was once red turned pale in realization. Meek before his ruler, Mister Yoon had no choice but to relent. “We’ll be taking him then.”

Bum felt his humanity slip away as he was given to another man so easily. With his head bowed down, he followed this strange new path forged by the man in purple robes.

—

The Heavens decided to smile on YoonBum when he saved the king’s life.

It was an accident, really. The guards felt no threat to the approaching figure in the form of a frail, old lady who was an assassin in disguise. YoonBum saw the knife before they did, jumping in front of Sangwoo.

Adrenaline in his system, Bum didn’t realize he was stabbed till he felt warmth seeping through his rags. Looking down, red spread around the area. It hurt. Badly. Bum’s legs felt like noodles; the little energy he had left his body as he collapsed onto the dirt. Even breathing was painful. His intervention set things in motion. One of the bodyguards chased down the assassin, two stood by Sangwoo and another leant down to help him. He must’ve asked something important but Bum couldn’t hear him clearly. It’s like he was submerged underwater. The last thing he saw before his vision turned black, was Sangwoo staring at him with interest.

He woke up in the nicest room he’s ever been.

The king didn’t visit him personally but he was sent a letter. Red overtook his face as he was forced to admit he didn’t know how to read. The servant relayed the contents, stating that when he was recovered, he would serve the king closely. From someone of his birth, it was the best he could get. YoonBum suddenly felt immensely grateful; he would no longer sleep in a shed with the pigs but a real mat! The pain on his side reminded him of the price he’d paid for this position, but he was used to being hurt. At least now it served to help him.

As the moment of glee passed, Bum realized he didn’t quite know the etiquette of serving the king. Joy left his body as he wondered how he would figure it out.

Like him, Sangwoo was plagued by this constant state of unhappiness. After the attempt on his life, he would think his subjects would be glad to see him breathing but instead he got murmurs of concern. What if he’d died? Who would’ve taken the throne since there was no heir? It would’ve thrown the palace into chaos.

Their silent pleas did not go unheard. “Maybe I should have them killed. Them and their entire families—” he paused when he saw you in the gardens, smiling at one of your ladies. His heart twisted. Sangwoo couldn’t explain it, but he always got the urge to inflict pain on you. He could say it stemmed from a place of resentment. How hard was it to get pregnant? If you gave him a son, he wouldn’t be pestered by these old fucks. Not to mention, your face contorting in distress was intoxicating—not even the concubines could compete with that.

Beneath his robes, his cock twitched with excitement. Oh, how he was going to enjoy this. Approaching your unsuspecting figure, he threw a dazzling smile to your courtesans. Sangwoo knew how to use his assets advantageously. Despite the suffering he caused, people were rendered speechless by his charm and good-looks.

He was like a snake, slithering towards his prey, waiting to attack. You did not hear him coming till you saw your ladies-in-waiting bowing. Greeting him appropriately, you expressed your relief. “Your Highness, I am glad to see you unharmed.”

It’d been a while since you last saw him; when he arrived, the rumour about the assassin spread like wildfire. “My Queen, you are truly a vision. These flowers have nothing on your beauty. You are proof that absence makes the heart grow fonder.” His honeyed words felt like prodding the bees’ nest. If you weren’t careful, you would be stung.

The only times he was this affectionate was when he wanted something. He played the same lovestruck role with your father to convince him of marrying you. Sending your ladies off, Sangwoo dropped his smile. His expression was replaced with desperation. Pulling on your wrist, the two of you traversed to your quarters since they were closer. “Ah!” Thrown harshly onto the bed, you hardly had time to compose yourself before he was mounting you. “Let’s put your cursed womb to good use.” A gasp escaped your lips as he entered you without warning. Your hands formed to fists, grabbing onto the sheets for dear life. It hurts, it hurts!

“Your Majesty! Please— aaah! Be more gentle..!”

Without seeing his face, you could already picture his cruel smirk. “You were born a disappointment. The least you could do is serve your purpose as my wife and bear me an heir.” His words angered you. Managing to twist away, you tried to escape his iron grip. This only resulted in you being pushed onto your back. Sangwoo pried your legs open and realigned himself.

Slap!

Sangwoo’s eyes widened with disbelief. The stinging in his cheek somehow made his pulse beat faster. Hands wrapping around your throat, he squeezed. “You should treat your king with more reverence. It would be a shame if the nation lost its queen. Especially one who can be easily replaced.” Having been the youngest war general, Sangwoo had strength to spare. Your hands seemed small as they banged on his form, silently begging to release you.

Having your life in his hands gave him the edge he needed to cum. With a low moan, Sangwoo emptied himself inside you. In turn, you couldn’t even focus on anything else other than breathing, choking as you gasped for air that you’d previously been deprived of. Knowing that he was capable of committing the worst, death seemed better than staying by his side.

“Perhaps I am not the problem, Your Majesty.”

Your voice was raspy but it rang clear across his majesty’s mind. Your words struck deep, like a knife embedded in his brain. It created a wound that would eventually fester. “Shut up.”

As if to disprove your point, he visited every concubine, not leaving until none of them were left untouched. He needed a son, one way or another, and if you wouldn’t give it to him, he would seek it elsewhere.

—

YoonBum was mostly healed; if anything, it appeared he’d been forgotten after a week of rest. The medic was currently tending to his wound, “It's healing nicely. A few more days and you should be out of here.”

The two of them turned at the sound of the door sliding open, immediately bowing at Her Highness’ entrance.

“Your Majesty, how can I be of use?” It was a bit surprising to see you there; your medical checkup wasn’t till another month. He wondered if you were feeling ill. Fabric wrapped around your neck; the weather was tepid, even inside the palace. That’s when he noticed the purple marks that peeked from under the material. Aware of his pointed stare, you moved the scarf upwards to conceal it. “I need you to acquire these medicinal herbs for me.” Taking the list, he read it carefully. How odd. Before he could ask what they were for, you added, “Your discretion would be appreciated.”

“Of course.”

Bum sat there silently, head facing the floor when you acknowledged him. “Are you the man that saved my husband?” Snapping upwards, he sputtered before letting out a quick “Yes!” Finally having a chance to gaze at your face, Bum felt himself turning red. Dressed in the finest silks from head to toe, standing with an air of regalness, was you. Unlike the king, there was warmth in you. Being in the presence of such a being felt unreal.

At first glance, the young man seemed no different than the other servants. However, his pink cheeks reminded you of innocence that one so rarely saw in the palace, which was filled with betrayal and resentment. His disposition was kind of endearing. You hoped he would remain like this, untainted by the world. “Then I must thank you.”

At your words, Bum’s figure lowered, forehead touching the wood. “Y-your Highness is too kind!” This position caused him a stab of discomfort, applying pressure to his wound yet he refused to straighten up. Noticing, you motioned at him, “Don’t force yourself.”

With that brief interaction, you were gone.

Entering your chambers, you signaled for the maid. Unwrapping the silk bandages, you stared at the mirror. Your husband’s marks served as a reminder of who held the power in this union. The young woman kneeled before you, taking a round brush and rolling it in powder. Although her ministrations were gentle, you couldn’t help but hiss when it applied pressure to your tender skin. “Forgive this servant, Your Majesty!”

“Don’t mind it. Continue.”

—

The king was anxious.

It was one thing for you to not get pregnant, but he’d been keeping busy and there was still no news of concubines with child. Reminded and bothered by your words, he summoned the royal physician. Sangwoo believed he wasn’t the problem, he just needed confirmation. What did you know? He wanted an expert to say that he was fulfilling his duties as king and it was everybody else that lacked.

“I’m sorry to say this, Your Highness.. but you’re infertile.”

With great effort, Sangwoo stopped himself from strangulating the doctor. It was impossible. A frown etched itself in Sangwoo’s face, his handsome features twisting into something scary. “You’re wrong.” It didn’t make sense; as a healthy male in his prime, Sangwoo shouldn’t have a problem fathering as many children as he could. There were several causes that may have caused his infertility, especially since he was a war general but the fact remained that he could not produce children.

Only an heir of royal blood could be king.

He forced the poor man to do every test available to ensure this. The result was the same. Again. And again. “You must not be doing your job right.” As the guards dragged the pleading man, a piece of paper fell from the medics’ robes during the struggle. Picking it up, Sangwoo recognized your handwriting.

“What’s this?”

There was temporary relief in the man’s face as Sangwoo stopped in front of him. “That.. the Queen requested a few me-medicinal herbs.” It didn’t sit right with Sangwoo. Why on earth would you need this shit? The physician seemed hesitant to answer his question. A rough push finally ushered him to say, “Alone these herbs are fine, but mixed..”

As requested, the herbs were delivered to you by the doctor’s assistant. The timing was perfect too. “Why didn’t your master deliver these himself?” Nervous, the boy stuttered a few excuses before asking for permission to leave. That should’ve raised flags in your head but you wanted the plan to work. You needed it to work.

The king had finally taken time out of his busy schedule to visit you, and not just to copulate. He was kind enough to accept your invitation to have a picnic at the pavilion. It was surrounded by a grand lake and vividly green trees; a true landscape.

Sangwoo arrived with a familiar man at his side. You realized you never asked for his name, though that was easily fixed when Sangwoo made a vague motion towards him. “That’s Bum.” He was dressed in green and Sangwoo in red. In comparison to their bright colors, you wore a soft pastel pink, denoting your sophisticated features.

Sitting down, you signaled the servant to begin pouring the soup. Sangwoo raised a brow, curious, “You’re not going to eat?” Listening to your response, a smile appeared on his face. “I wanted to make a special meal for Your Highness, from the bottom of my heart.” It was unnerving, the way he looked at you. Still, you never lost composure, waiting patiently for him. That is, until he asked Bum to lean down and try it. Obedient, the male did so without question. Eyes widening, you managed to stop Bum from tasting. Your hand held onto his wrist tightly—the spoon hovering centimeters from his lips. A few droplets spilled onto the wooden table. Sangwoo tilted his head to the side, innocent expression in tow. “Something wrong?”

Everything is wrong!

Sangwoo knew. You didn’t know how, but of this, you were sure. Fear is what he wanted and you weren’t going to give it to him. “This meat in this broth was especially prepared for His Royal Highness. It shouldn’t go to waste on someone else.” The tip of Bum’s ears burned from embarrassment. He was under the impression you were a benevolent queen; instead, he was reminded of his lowly status. Of course he couldn’t eat the expensive meat, a peasant like him wouldn’t know how to appreciate the flavor. The hurt on his face was evident but he turned to the king, awaiting further instructions. Sangwoo wasn’t fazed, “Don’t be silly.”

Taking the spoon, Sangwoo offered it to you.

You stared at it, unmoving. Sangwoo poked your lips, “Who else but the Queen would be worthy to try such delicacy?” He was baiting you, daring you to deny or confess. Neither was an option. Grabbing the spoon from him, you slowly opened your mouth and dropped the contents inside. Sangwoo’s eyes narrowed slightly but he said nothing. “Swallow.” Damn him to hell. Before you could do such a thing, a guard interrupted. Apparently there were news concerning Yang Seungbae, a traitor to the crown; he was spotted near a town on the outskirts of the forest.

Sangwoo hated him. More than anyone. That bastard was working hard to rally forces that would conspire against him. While things were peaceful at court, Sangwoo had felt a shift ever since the assassination attempt. His eye twitched in annoyance, though you weren’t entirely positive if it was because of Seungbae or the fact that he’d been interrupted. Sitting completely still, you watched as Sangwoo whispered to Bum before leaving. As soon as he was gone, you grabbed a handkerchief and spit out the soup. This action worries a few servants but you waved them off. “It’s cold.” They couldn’t understand as you ordered them to throw it, seeing as it was perfectly edible. Such a waste, disposing of such good meat.

Bum followed you like a lost puppy. The first night Sangwoo bedded him, YoonBum experienced true love. It wasn’t gentle; the king’s touch harbored no hatred but passion. Bum had never felt like that. It made him feel special; the ruler of the country placed his lips and strong hands on his skinny body. He had a queen, concubines, and still, he went to him. Elated couldn’t begin to describe how Bum felt. His feelings for his king were all-consuming. Since then, he’d made a promise to follow every order Sangwoo asked of him. Bum didn’t have anything against you, truly, but his loyalty laid with his king.

On their way back, they encountered Imperial Concubine Min Jieun. The crowd following her greeted you respectfully, and while she did so too, there was a triumphant smirk on her face. Nodding in acknowledgment, you continued walking, enjoying nature. The sun warmed your skin, making you forget about any worries, if only for a moment. Once the group was out of earshot, you glanced at your companion. “What was that about?” It was no secret how spoiled Min Jieun was; she was a woman of noble birth, groomed to perfection. That’s the facade she chose to wear instead of the power hungry bitch she was. Envy burned in every particle of her body. She wanted you out of the picture—she wanted to be queen and mother of Sangwoo’s children. Still, your position commanded respect. Your lady leaned in, whispering, “There’s rumors that she’s with child.”

“Oh.”

Bum watched your composed reaction with intrigue. He could understand if you held a grudge towards her. He did. You would always be first to the king, so he had to accept that. Bum knew it was the way things ran. However, he couldn’t say the same for the other concubines. They had the chance to bear Sangwoo’s child. Bum only wished he could do so too. Alas, this resentment made him feel guilty because the concubines were amicable women—well, except Min Jieun. He didn’t realize that they were shackled to this restrictive lifestyle; that they had no choice but to make the best of the situation.

“Is there something you want to say?”

Almost jumping at the sudden sound of your voice, Bum gazed around to see who you were talking to. Finding your clear eyes on him, he realized you’d seen through him. “Uh.. n-no, Your Majesty..”

“Say it.”

“How.. how does Your Majesty handle it?”

Though the question itself was vague, you got the gist. “Queens are expected to rise above such earthly emotions.” You had a solemn expression and the grip around your fan tightened, “Jealousy is futile.”

Nodding, Bum felt like he’d swallowed vinegar. This revelation left him in deep thought. Perhaps that was the difference between royals and peasants; possessiveness was quick to overtake him while you had to live with the knowledge that your husband would seek the company of others.

Hm, maybe he was right not to envy you.

—

“The Queen has fallen ill.”

It was so sudden; you were so healthy one day and the next, chills racked your body, fever uncontrollable. The court tried to be positive on the matter but it wasn’t looking good. Sangwoo was advised to refrain from visiting you—if he got sick too, it would affect the entire nation. “I will see my wife as I see fit.”

“Open the door and step aside.”

He was like an angel of death, entering with eerie calmness. Even through the soft curtains he could see your weakened form. You looked thinner, unable to eat. The physicians tried to get you to consume anything but it was just regurgitated in minutes.

The bed dipped under his weight as he sat next to you.

“Did you eat something bad?” He caressed your face, pushing hairs away that stuck due to the sweat. Fingers tightening on the blankets, you managed to open your mouth. “Congratulations.” Lips pale and cracked, you smiled sardonically. Sangwoo wasn’t expecting that reaction. “What are you talking about?”

“I’ve heard news that Concubine Jieun is pregnant.”

A dark look crossed his face. “Is that so?” He stood, “Perhaps I should pay her a visit.” Though his tone was mocking, there was something bothering Sangwoo. Fortunately for the king, you were too woozy to think straight. Leaning down, Sangwoo placed a hand behind your neck, lifting you just a bit, enough to kiss your lips.

“Don’t die.”

#oh sangwoo #sangwoo x yoonbum #sangwoo x reader #sangwoo #yoonbum x you #yoonbum x y/n #yoonbum x reader #killing stalking yoonbum #killing stalking #ks yoonbum #ks sangwoo #yang seungbae #king x reader

[onlyfreds]

Pampered the Fred Weasley Way | F.W.

Title: Pampered the Fred Weasley Way

Requested: Yes/No [x]

Summary: It’s that time of the month and Fred will always be there for you

You wake up to the pain flaring in your stomach, the pain of what felt like thousand of knives stabbing you.

You groaned, curling up into a fetal position in an attempt to minimize the pain.

“That time of the month?” Y/F/N asked.

You didn’t reply but another groan was more than enough to serve as an answer.

“Do you need me to get you something?” She asked.

You shook your head, forcing yourself to get up, “No thanks. I’ll be fine.”

The two of you headed down to the Great Hall to have breakfast.

“You don’t seem to have much of an appetite.” Your brother noted, “It’s red day, isn’t it?”

You forced a smile, biting back a snarky remark.

Your eyes drifted to the Gryffindor table from where you sat with your fellow Hufflepuffs.

Your boyfriend, Fred Weasley, held eye contact as he gave you a smile and a small wave, which you gladly returned.

Your friend nudged you teasingly, “Leave it to Fred Weasley to make your day better.”

You felt a blush rise up to your cheeks, “Shut up.”

After breakfast, your boyfriend immediately found his way towards you in order to walk you to your first class.

“How was your morning princess?” He asked, draping an arm around your waist.

“Better.” You answered nonchalantly, “now that you’re by my side.”

Fred chuckled, pulling you closer to him, “That’s supposed to be my line.”

“Too late, I already stole it from you.” You teased, poking your tongue out at him.

While the two of you were in hysterical fits of laughter, the cramps decided that it wanted to come back and bother you.

“Ah!” You yelped, clutching your stomach as you leaned against your boyfriend.

“What happened? Are you okay?” He asked, a worried tone lacing his voice.

You tried to reassure him as you regained your composure and stood up, “Don’t worry, I’m fine. It’s just some cramps.”

“That time of the month?” He asked.

You nodded as the two of you stopped in front of your classroom, “I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me.”

Fred gave a small smile, pressing a kiss to your temple, “If you say so. But, you know my schedule - so if you need me, just call me.”

You gratefully smiled, “Thank you.”

—

All you wanted to do in your free time was curl up into a fetal position and try to ignore the stabbing loan as much as you could while cursing whoever decided that cramps should be part of a monthly cycle.

Your surroundings turned to black as a pair of hands covered your vision and a familiar voice reached your ears, “Guess who.”

You giggled, trying to pry the hands away from your eyes, “Freddie, how did you get into the Hufflepuff common room?”

Your boyfriend chuckled, “I have my ways darling.”

“What are you doing here?” You asked, playfully rolling your eyes at him.

He pretended to think about it for a moment, “I just wanted to give you something.” He said before pulling out a basket and handing it to you.

You gave him a skeptical look, “Frederick Gideon Weasley, if this thing explodes in my face, I’m going to kill you.”

Fred gave a goofy grin, “Don’t worry princess. It won’t explode in your face and I’m sure that you’ll love it.”

You playfully squinted at him before cautiously lifting the cover of the basket to reveal - a pack of your favorite sweets, a heating pad, a couple of muggle movies and his sweater.

You looked up at Fred and he could swear that there were literal hearts in your eyes.

“Thank you Freddie,” You cooed, pulling him down for a kiss.

Fred wrapped the sweater around you and placed the heating pad on your stomach while he read you your favorite book as you laid your head on his chest.

After a while, you looked up at him and asked, “Freddie, please be honest with me, did I scare you or something today?”

He stopped reading, furrowing his brows, “No. Why?”

“My brother always said that I was scary whenever it was that time of the month. And then you suddenly come here with a care package.” You explained.

“Sweetheart, I have a sister too. So, I know how much pain your in and I want to take care of you.”

𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝:

@lumosandnoxwriting @benny-boukendan @famdomhideout @nova-darling @gaycatlord-stuff @pandaxnienke @daedreamss @catching-the-train-to-hogwarts @lunylovelovegood @thefallengodesse @cupids-crystals @madelineorionswan @holyheadharpies99 (Send a Message/Ask if you want to be added!)

#fredweasley #fredweasleyfanfic #fredweasleyimagines #fred weasley fluff #fred weasley angst #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x y/n #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley x you #fredweasleyoneshots #fred weasley smut

[winter-soldier-vibes]

I have a request for your future work. If you are comfortable writing this topic, I'd love to read it.

I have always had very bad cramps when I'm on my period. I also have PMS so I struggle with pain a week before my period starts. And It makes me think, if I could not let go of this cruel pain until menopause, I'd rather stop living. (Sorry it sounds heavy)

I want Bucky to comfort women who are struggling with serious period cramps ( Dysmenorrhea ) and PMS.

Thank you for reading my request! You can ignore this if you are not feeling right!

I love you so much❤️

Of course!!!

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PMS for Please Make it Stop

Bucky x reader

Summary: Reader suffers from severe cramps and PMS symptoms on and in between her periods. Bucky, her boyfriend, comforts her as much as he can.

Word count: 1666

Warnings: talk of everything that comes with periods, pain and cramps, PMS, fluff

A/N: Thank you for the request, and I am so sorry that it’s so painful for you! I’ve had a lot of experience with “that time of the month” feeling completely unbearable, and I hope that this fic is helpful! I don’t know exactly what you’re going through because each person has different symptoms with different severities and time spans. I truly hope that this helps you! I’m always here to talk as a fellow person with periods and the emotions that come with them!

Tags: @mardema @buckfics @stucky-on-spiderman @buckys2thicc @abitgryffindorky @barnesplums @thatfangirl42 @freigeistundanderes @babyboibucky

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You rolled over in bed, curling in on yourself and using your pillow to suppress a groan. It was early morning, you could tell because the sun was up but Bucky hadn’t left for his run with Steve yet. It was that time of the month again, the one you hated so goddamn much. The one every woman hated so much. But it was never just the few days of blood they had taught you about in sex ed.

You hadn’t been prepared for the cramps, bloating, mood swings, headaches, cravings, and pain…

So. Much. Pain.

You could handle blood, that wasn’t an issue for you. You had seen your share of bloodshed on the battlefield. It was the horrible cramps that felt like something was stabbing you from the inside out constantly for a week preceding the bloodshed that was too much for you. It paralyzed you in a way. It hurt to do anything at all. As much as you hated to admit it, you could deal with any cut, burn, or broken bone. But these cramps had you curled in a ball with tears in your eyes.

You let out another groan and felt Bucky stir next to you. He turned over and rubbed one of his hands up and down your arm and pressed a kiss to your shoulder.

“Sweetheart, why are you awake?” he asked softly, sleep still lacing his voice. There were only 2 reasons that you would be awake. Either you had a nightmare, or...

You let out a small whimper as another wave of pain came over you.

...cramps.

“Hey, it’s okay, come here,” he said before carefully wrapping his arm around your stomach, rubbing small circles over your stomach. He brought his body flush against you so his chest to your back, without squeezing you too tightly. You sighed in relief, his warm body easing your pain slightly. He pressed soft kisses to your temple, whispering reassuring words in your ear.

He had learned a lot rather quickly when it came to helping you with your pain. He hadn’t known much at all at first, growing up in the 40’s where people never talked about it. When he had first walked in on you curled in the fetal position, crying and whimpering, he had been so worried. So when you referred to it as ‘just a period’ and that ‘it’s happened before', he was very confused.

He thought a period was something you ended a sentence with.

You had sent him to Nat and Wanda to explain what was happening. You had synced up with them naturally, but their cramps weren’t as severe as you. Everyone's experiences of periods, their symptoms, and PMS differently, but they felt bad for the severity of yours.

He was very confused as to why he had to ask other people about your pain. When he approached the two wide-eyed and confused, asking why you were in severe pain with no injuries, they had to try not to laugh.

They explained the basics to him, and what was off-limits. No assuming it was happening because of mood swings, no expecting you to keep functioning at peak condition, no mentioning how the emotional mood swings were happening

He was just in awe of it - how women were expected to just act naturally as if they weren’t bleeding at a constant rate while dealing with horrible pain and emotional mood swings. He thought that it was amazing that it was expected that they act naturally.

It took a little bit of trial and error and a lot of patience on both your parts, but he knew how he could help make these days as bearable as he could.

He would spend these days close to you, showing you a lot of affection. He would be gentle and patient with you, reminding you how much he loved you. He would get you anything you needed, be it food or pads or tampons. Once you had sent him to get pads and tampons and he had come back with one of every box with a sheepish look on his face.

“I didn’t know which ones you wanted so I got...all of them.”

You had laughed so hard that it hurt, but it was worth it. He made you promise not to tell Sam.

But eventually, he had learned what you needed. How he could help. The heat helped ease your cramps, so he’d hold you close, but not tightly. Rubbing your stomach helped too, in slow, lazy circles.

While he hated seeing you in pain, he loved taking care of you. Anything he could do to help you he would do.

Another cramp made you shift slightly, trying to find the impossible position that would help relieve the constant pain. You let out a small groan, trying to curl in tighter on yourself. Bucky pressed a small kiss to your temple.

“It’s okay angel, it’s alright.”

“It hurts,” you said, voice cracking.

“I know it does, I know,” he said, using his left hand to brush some hair out of your face.

“I just want it to stop hurting so much,” you said, letting out another pained whimper.

“I can’t imagine,” he said, sincerely. He couldn’t imagine the same pain every month with no relief or solution. He knew just how strong you were, strong as anyone on the team if not stronger. Seeing you in this much pain must have meant it was unbearable.

“I can’t make it go away but I’m here to do whatever I can to help, okay?” he whispered against your skin.

“I’m sorry about this,” you said.

Bucky took a deep breath. “Did you choose to go through this?” he asked softly.

“N-no.”

“Then you have nothing to apologize for.”

You nodded slightly, your heart melting. You tried to take slow and even breaths. After a few moments passed, he asked “Can I help you to the shower? You always say how much the hot water helps.”

You paused for a moment before you nodded, and he pressed another kiss to your temple before standing up and moving to the other side of the bed to help you stand. Moving from your position sounded like the worst idea right now, but you took a deep breath before taking his hands. You sat up slowly, groaning as your hand wrapped around your stomach. You stood up shortly after, bending forward slightly as you made your way to the bathroom with Bucky. He had noticed a bloodstain on the bed, but he didn’t say anything. You didn’t need to know that.

He turned on the water for you, checking the temperature every few moments. Once he deemed that it was hot enough but wasn’t going to burn your skin, he told you and gave you a quick hug before giving you some privacy. You had always enjoyed intimate showers together just...not when you had your period to worry about. When he closed the door, you started to slowly undress to get into the shower. You got into the shower, sighing in relief as it helped soothe your cramps.

Bucky, meanwhile, was working fast. First he texted Steve that he wouldn’t be able to make it to training today, knowing he would understand. He then moved to make the bed with clean sheets, so you wouldn't see the small bloodstain on the current ones. He didn’t want you to worry or feel bad about it. He grabbed a pair of sweatpants and one of his t-shirts that you had always loved. He cracked the bathroom door open and placed them on the counter, careful not to disturb you. He then quickly ran down to the kitchen, still empty for the moment, and grabbed a few of your favorite snacks along with a few water bottles to bring back upstairs.

When he came back to the room, he noticed the water had been turned off. He set the water and snacks on the bedside table as you opened the bathroom door, hair in a messy bun and looking much more refreshed. “Feeling better?”

“A little,” you said quietly before wincing slightly. Bucky gave you a small smile before taking your hand and bringing you over to the bed, him sitting down and leaning against the headboard. He helped you sit down between his legs so you were able to lean your back against his chest. You laid your head back against him and he wrapped his arms around you so his human arm was on your lower stomach, his metal arm resting over it. You let out a small sigh, relaxing back against him. He pressed a small kiss to your temple, rubbing smooth lazy circles on your stomach.

“Try to get some rest, doll.” he whispered. “We can watch your favorite movie when you wake up.”

You turned slightly to look up at him. “But you hate that movie.”

“But you don’t,” he said simply.

You felt tears brim your eyes even though it felt so stupid. “I love you, Bucky.’

“I love you too angel,” he whispered, pressing a last kiss to the side of your head. “Try to get some rest.”

#fanfic #fanfiction #mcu #mcufam #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky fluff #bucky barnes #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #bucky fanfic #marvel #bucky barns x you #bucky barns x reader #bucky barns imagine #bucky barns fanfiction #bucky barns x y/n #soft bucky #bucky barns #marvel fanfiction #request #period mention #period comfort #comfort #fluff

[distracteddegenerate]

Carnation

Yuta x Fem!reader

Warnings: period sex, lots of blood mentions, yandere undertones for Yuuta, TW.Dubcon if you squint I just want to be safe lol, unprotected sex, smut

Got super carried away with this one which is why it’s so long lol. I decided to combine the asks since I have got a lot for Yuta. Second anon if you’re uncomfortable with this fic which is understandable lol just shoot me another ask and I can do something else for you.

You lay curled in your bed, the sheets and pillows a mess around you, a fluffy hot water bottle cradled tightly to your front. The side of your body you laid on was beginning to ache from pressure, and you felt flush from heat, but you dared not move. You dreaded the intensifying of the stabbing pains your own body was wretchedly subjecting you to. Of course today would be the heaviest of your period, the day you had scheduled for a study session with Yuta. He was due to come over in about half an hour, and your pains were yet to ease up at all, despite the painkillers you had recently downed. You could cancel, yet, this was the first ever study session you had set up with your handsome friend, and you were loath to cancel it over something that would clear itself up eventually.

You closed your eyes, and pulled the hot water bottle you gripped like a lifeline closer to the source of your suffering.

~~~

*knock knock*

Fuuuuck. Was it that time already? You groggily sat up, releasing your water bottle and in replacement lightly pressing your hand against the throbbing pain that was starting to surge more strongly in the pit of your belly. You gently placed your feet on the ground off the side of your bed, and rose onto the balls of them just as delicately. You began your gloomy shuffle towards the entrance of your room, fixing your ruffled hair into place.

You pulled the door open on yourself slowly, croaking as Yuta’s tired but docile face materialised into view. 

“Good evening, (Name)-chan.” Yuta had his hands in his pockets and wore a kindly smile, the only thing betraying his pleasant demeanour being those familiar dark circles dusking the underside of his eyes. Dreary though they appeared, you could swear you saw a specular shimmer dance across his irises when he registered your form.

“Ah good evening to you too, Yuta! Come in and make yourself at home, I have some stuff set up on the coffee table.” You tried your best to look as perfectly in humour as you could, to not draw any attention to your current pain stricken condition. Must have been good enough, as Yuta had nodded in response and was now making his way over to nestle himself onto one of the pillows you had placed next to your make-shift study station. 

You yourself was headed to the kitchenette, about to ask what Yuta wanted to drink when a sharp stab erupted from your core. You threw your hand onto a countertop and visibly winced, when you noticed Yuta’s widened eyes had been following you. 

“(Name)! Are you okay?!” Yuta’s expression was alarmed, prepared to pounce up from his seating.

“Uh- I er uh- tripped over! Nothing to worry about!” You were blushing slightly, but righted yourself regardless and tried to stand as straight as you could. Yuta seemed slightly confused, and whilst he opened his mouth to speak you interrupted him with a casual “So what would you like to drink?” 

“Er.. I’m fine actually, I had something before I left home... actually I think you should come sit down, er, carefully.” He still looked a little concerned. You nodded your head and made your way over to his side. Settling yourself down, you could feel more pain pulsating within you, a low rumble threatening another great stab like you had experienced just. You drew your legs to your chest in an attempt to alleviate it slightly, and picked up your copy of “a comprehensive guide to the relation of curses and the law”; holding it open in front of you.

You could feel Yuta’s gaze still trained on you.

~~~

“So, although the police would have to intervene if someone was hurt or killed in the incident, sorcerers still have the right to- er - (Name)?”

Crap. You were too focused on the waves of torture oscillating in your guts to keep your attention on Yuta explaining the info that went over your head in class to you again. And he noticed. You looked up at him softly, and offered a subdued “sorry.” You didn’t really have energy to maintain your act of being fine anymore. His eyes looked concerned. You turned your head to the floor and fiddled with your hands.

“Hey, (Name).” You heard him shift and alter the positioning of his legs. “Is it that time of the month?”

What?! Who asks that like this?! 

You threw your head back up to look at him, your face red and mouth agape. He threw his hands up defensively.

“Sorry, sorry!” He hurriedly turned his gaze into the distance and rubbed the back of his neck. “I just.. I have a little sister, so I’m used to this sort of thing, or at least I know a bit more about it than other guys.” He looked back to you. “It seems like the pains at least are distracting you from your studies, if you need painkillers or something.. I can go get them for you.”

“I er...I already tried that… doesn’t work out that well for me.” Was your meek, barely audible reply. You played with the tassel of the pillow you were sat on. Yuta looked pained on your behalf.

“Y’know… I read online somewhere that there’s always something you can try out failing all else.” He caught your gaze, and held it intently. 

It must be too good to be true, how would Yuta know some hidden method that you (as someone who experienced periods) didn’t know about for dealing with the pains?! Your eager look betrayed itself when a switch flicked in your head and your expression turned into one of astonishment. There’s no way he’s gonna suggest…

“Org*sms.”

You’d known Yuta for awhile now, but you had no idea just how… artless he was. Where was his tact?! Your cheeks burned from embarrassment. You felt like your face was about to explode.

Looking at him though, he was practically unfazed! As if you were going about some matter-of-a-fact order of business. What was this situation!

“I-is.. that a joke Yuta?” Your hands were curling into tight balls. 

“Of course not, (Name). You look like you’re in so much pain. I just want to help alleviate it.”

What the hell did he mean by that? Like you will just hop up right now and go jerk yourself in the bathroom as casually as using the toilet.. Or.. could he have meant..

You felt Yuta’s hand settle on your thigh, as he leant down further towards you. “I can help you out (Name)-chan.”

You couldn’t deny, you’d always found Yuta handsome, but for things to move along this quickly… and of all times! Surely his level of straight-forwardness defied all social conventions, and yet, it was working. The feel of his hand resting on you, his hungry stare, the way he loomed over you, chest rising and falling intently. You could feel a different kind of ache emanating from your lower parts. 

His hand drifted further up your body, coming to stop just below your belly button. “I want to help you… (Name)-chan.” You looked into his dark eyes. They were intense, hungry. You could swear he was salivating. 

“B-but Yuta.. I-I’m.. You know! Isn’t that.. Gross? For you?” He shot you a sheepish grin, hiding his eyes in an evasive fashion. His hand travelled downwards once more, snaking up the inside of your loose-fitting shorts and looping his fingers over the sides of your panties. He toyed with them, rolling the cloth over your skin and lightly pulling at them. “I don’t think any part of you is gross, (Name)-chan.” His eyes flicked open again, drawing you back into his intensity. “I think every part of you is beautiful, even.” You could sense his earnestness, and it made your cheeks burn. You went to throw your hands up to them, but he quickly caught them in his. “So, what’s your answer?” He planted a kiss in your palm. “Do you want my help? (Name)-chan.” 

Fuck.. the way he looked at you. Those ferocious, hooded eyes. Those calloused hands, usually wrapped around a katana, wrapped around yours right now. The burning you felt between your legs. God yes. God, you wanted it.

The alleviation of pain (and studying) was an afterthought.

~~~

Yuta had returned back to your living space with a towel from the bathroom. What? you didn’t want to get the floor messy. You could see an erection straining tightly against his black pants. 

Fuck, you were really gonna do this. He set it down flat on the floor, and invited you to come situate yourself on it.

~~~

After removing his shirt (It was white, after all), Yuta knelt himself down in front of you. He had a certain glint in his eyes, almost conflicting the harmless smile that he also wore, as if he wasn’t about to blissfully pound your bloody c*nt into oblivion. He undid the front buckle of his pants, a bulge emerging, the explicitness of his bare dick concealed by gray underwear. He began palming at the protuberance. You eyed the display curiously, when you had a sudden realisation.

“Y-Yuta, w-what about… protection?” you asked, uneasily. 

“Hm? (Name)-chan, you’re on your period, remember? You won’t get pregnant.”

“B-but..”

He cut you off. “I don’t have anything. Trust me.”

You nodded and grunted in acknowledgement. Yuta was always a trustworthy figure for you. Your strong, reliable friend who you could always depend on. He always took care of you, even during skirmishes with curses, arriving at your side before things even had the chance to get particularly hairy.

You watch Yuta as he tilts his keeling body forward, his hands landing on your ankles before travelling upwards, spreading your legs open in the process. You feel yourself blushing once again, tossing your head to the side. You can feel the front of your damp p*nties being touched, jumping in slight surprise at the abrupt action before Yuta starts rubbing at your cl*t through the fabric. He notices your breathing falter.

“Do you like it, (Name)-chan? Do you like how it feels when I rub you there?”

You mumble a small “yes.”

He’s applying more pressure to his administrations now. “Do you want me to take your p*nties off? So I can touch you properly?”

You answer yes again, this time more hastily. 

With that, he curls his fingers over the sides of your p*nties, dragging your legs into the air as he twists his body appropriately in order to shimmy the restrictive fabric off of you. He casts them to the side, before pulling your trembling limbs back into their previous position. Once he settled them back down, he kept his hands on your thighs as he drank in the glory of your exposed c*nt quivering before him, the string of your tampon peaking out in a taunting manner.

You heard him cooing at you quietly. “Beautiful.”

You cringed, wondering if he’d still be thinking that when he’s stained with blood. Even so, you couldn’t help but melt under the feeling of his fingertips tracing circles into your inner thighs. The way you felt a thumb flick over your n*ked sex.

“Is your stomach still hurting you?” The sudden question snapped you out of your stupor.

Truth be told, you’d almost completely forgotten about your pains you were so caught up in the moment, but something held you back from saying so. As if Yuta would stop touching you if you let him know the “reason” for the two of you doing this was almost completely resolved. And, you were relishing in the tenderness of his comforting too much for it to stop.

“Y-Yes..”

Yuta bent further over you, his head looming over your core. He sunk down, his face leaning into the space of your skin where your tummy and pelvis met. He planted a light kiss there.

“Well, I’m gonna make you feel better.”

His grip on your thighs tightened as his head lifted, his presence shadowing over you once again as he held himself higher. Your heart pounded. He leaned further on your left thigh and removed his hand from the other, as you felt fingers poking at your aching heat again.

Could you feel… pulling?

You felt a horrible, obscene slick escape you suddenly when Yuta yanked out your tampon. He pinched it limply in fingers, observing it slightly before placing it on the towel you shared.

“Yuta?!” You whelped. It was ironic. The two of you were sharing an intimate moment with each other, almost completely exposed. But this? It felt somewhat... invasive.

You could sense Yuta shrugging. “It needed to come out.” Before you even had a chance to respond, you could feel him caressing your folds. He was circling his thumb over them, the peak of the eclipse swiping over your cl*t. “Don’t worry, (Name)-chan you look beautiful.”

You looked to him, but he didn’t return the gaze. His stare was boring into your most private parts, hungrily eating up the view. The calloused hand still wrapped around your leg was gripping on tightly, as you felt Yuta dip a finger into your sopping c*nt.

“Fuck.. it’s so.. wet.”

Well, that was a given you supposed. But you knew a lot of what was down there was also probably your usual feminine slick, with the way he was making you ache. He continued pumping his finger in and out, the motion becoming deeper and rougher, him gaining confidence in what you were willing to take in. You could feel your muscles strain around it.

“That’s three.”

“Wait, w-what?!”

“Three fingers, (Name)-chan. You’re drenched down here.” You felt him remove his digits, Spreading them out across your lips. You then felt him draw a line across your inner thighs that intersected your p*ssy in the middle. Was he… playing in it? You decided not to question, you were too caught up in a wanton haze, hips bucking upwards, begging for his touch to return to your most sensitive parts.

“Y-yuta..”

He looked at you and smiled sincerely. “-just need to make sure you’re nice and loose for me, (Name)-chan.” Before you could react, plunging fingers speared your weeping c*nt, pumping with violent pace. You yelped and crumpled in on yourself when you felt his fingers curl against your velvety walls, yielding against the pressure. You squirmed underneath him even more when he began spreading them, parting your insides. You hummed, laying your hand over the top of his head, entwining yourself in the strands of his hair.

He shifted into your touch. “God, love this. So fucking beautiful.”

He peered at you from beneath those dark lashes. “You think you’re ready?”

“Hm?”

“For my cock.”

At that, you nodded, releasing your grasp on his hair and trailing your hand down his chest as he straightened himself, looping his fingers over the sides of his boxers, staining it with blood. He tugged them down, his painfully erect dick springing out into open air. You found yourself surprised at the length. Yet, He was focused on you. Pointing at your top half he asked you, “Can you take all of this off?”

You nodded and complied hurriedly.

When you were done Yuta was quick, grabbing your knees to hold you in place, leaning over to plant yet another doting kiss on your body, This time in the space between your bare breasts. You felt him begin to push into you. He managed the entirety of his length, before pulling himself almost all the way out again. You noticed how he looked down, admiring the sheen of your blood now coating his member. He quickly snapped his hips back into you again, and began assuming a steady pace of rutting. Your legs found themselves wrapping around him, your ankles cross sectioning across his taught upper back. You wanted to tell him it felt good, but the most you could manage was a weak moan.

That seemed to set something off within him. He lunged over you, enveloping your entire body with his own. He planted one hand on the towel beneath you, firmly beside your head. The other found itself groping a t*t, clawing over it to pinch your hard nipple, surrounding the ar*ola with petals of red. His pace was raw and piercing, but the slight discomfort you felt was laced with a more intense pleasure.

You heard him groan. “-god.. You feel so good. Fucking you like this.. It’s just so.. primal.” He was lightly scraping his nails against you, tracing trails of scarlet down your body. You understood what he meant by that perfectly. The way he was looking down at you, almost slavering at the lips at your vulnerable form, like some wild animal lost in it’s lust.

The feeling of it, the sounds of it. It was also so expl*cit. Yet so gratifying. 

You lost yourself, allowing Yuta to abuse your lower half as he pleased, even matching your hips to his punishing motions. The l*wd squelching noises as he fucked into your excessive wetness, the way he played with your sensitive nipple at the same time, your entire being yearning into his ministrations. 

“I-I’ve always dreamt of this, (Name)-chan” You were too lost in a fucked out haze to really respond, humming lightly as you stroked the arm gripping your breast. His pace got even quicker then, rougher. His form that was already entirely draped over yours weighed down on you with even more pressure, the slap of his bucking hips against your buttox resounding loudly. It’s all too much, your legs weak when you cream his c*ck, a wave of release gushing out of you as your heat throbs wildly.

Your limbs go weak as you reel from the org*sm, your walls spasming around Yuta as he continued his bucking.

Yuta’s gaze rests on your dazed expression, his dark eyes settling over you. “You needed my c*ck didn't you?” He moves the hand that was on your bre*st to caress over your face.  “Desperately. I know you did.” 

You felt Yuta’s pace get rougher, losing it’s steady tempo as he chases closer to his climax. He thrusts into you heartily a final time before his release spills into you, closing his eyes as he rides out his orgasm out slowly and tenderly. He remains inside for sometime after, rubbing your hips with his thumb as he admires the mixture of c*m and blood streaming out of your hole and cascading down his dick. 

“Beautiful.”

He looks to your face now, smiling gently. 

“So, do you feel better now, (Name)?”

#jjk #yuta okkotsu #yuta okkotsu x reader #jujutsu kaisen #okkotsu yuta x reader #reader x jjk #jjk x reader #dark jjk #period sex #okkotsu yuta #okkotsu yuuta #yuuta okkotsu x reader #okkotsu yuuta x reader #tw.yandere #tw.blood #tw.periods #tw.dubcon #smut #jjk smut

[radioduo]

roses and riots: chapter 1

i could count the stars (wait until the dawn

notes: apoc au ^-^ this has been in the works for a while, so hope u guys enjoy! thanks to @b1rdza for the title and the letting me plan things w them :}

tws: blood, injury, violence, talks of death and zombies

Ranboo stared at his phone, slightly cracked and looking worse for wear, reminiscing over the photo on his lock screen. A picture from two months ago of him, Tubbo, and Tommy beaming at the camera. Ranboo returned the smile. Probably a picture Wilbur took on their moving day.

Two months ago, Tommy, Tubbo, and Ranboo began living together. Two months ago was the last time everything was normal.

Ranboo leaned against the wall of the now crumbling apartment and laid his head back against the foggy windows with a sigh. He could hear Tubbo in the other room quietly singing a cheerful tune and fiddling with some new gadget on his own. Tommy still wasn’t home from the scouting trip he had left for hours ago, and as the minutes ticked by, more and more anxiety gnawed at Ranboo's stomach.

Speak of the devil, Ranboo thought to himself as the communicator next to him began to buzz. It was Tommy, unsurprisingly. Ranboo gingerly set the phone down and picked up the other device. “Hello?”

“RANBOO, GET - krzzkr - HERE, THERE’S - skrzzkz - FUCKING HORDE HEADING OUR - krzzssz - HELP-”

Ranboo flinched and held the speaker away from his ear as he sprang to his feet. “Oh god, alright. Hold on, Tommy, I’m getting Tubbo and we’re going. Where are you?” He pulled on his boots and grabbed the musty red rucksack that hung next to the door.

“WEST- kzzszrt - NEAR THE DINER-”

“Just stay calm, Tommy, find a hiding place, you know the drill,” he knocked on Tubbo’s door urgently, but there was no response. "Are you k- whatever," Ranboo threw open the door, muttering to himself. Tubbo yelped in surprise as the door swung open, flinging his arm out and knocking his project onto the carpet. “We’ve gotta go,”

Tubbo took a deep breath and raised an eyebrow. “What’s up, bossman?”

Ranboo began to explain, but Tommy seemed eager to take matters into his own hands.

“TUBBO, THEY’RE FUCKIN’ AFTER - skrzztz - YOUR HELP RIGHT NOW, GET YOUR ASSES DOWN HERE - kryzztz - TO GOD I WON’T FORGIVE YOU IF I DIE,” he yelled through the radio. Tommy was breathing heavily, and Ranboo and Tubbo could hear quick, heavy footsteps pounding against the pavement.

“Oh fuck, okay, we’re coming, Tommy!” Tubbo grabbed his yellow bag from the foot of his mattress, abandoning his gadget and nearly knocking over his trash can full of failed prototypes. “Where is he?” he asked Ranboo, straining as he tugged his shoes over his heels.

“West Elm, near the diner,” Ranboo said as he pulled his mask over his face, leading Tubbo into the kitchen and grabbing his crowbar from the counter. “We’re on our way, just stay hidden and stay put.” Ranboo ended the transmission before Tommy could keep shouting at him and pulled open the door. “Let’s go, Tubbo,”

Tubbo hoisted his bat over his shoulder and tugged his goggles over his eyes. Wordlessly, the duo slunk out from the crumbling apartment building and down the street.

Nothing new, Ranboo noticed as the two speed-walked around the dilapidated city. Broken glass lined the pavement in front of shopping outlets, rotting wooden planks covered doors and windows, and the smell of flesh and blood filled the air around them, pungent and nauseating. The acrid scent slithered through the mask over Ranboo's nose and snaked into his nostrils, and he fought back the urge to heave as he swallowed the bile rising in his throat.

Rapidly rounding a corner, Ranboo tore his eyes away from the city scenery, stifling a gasp of surprise as he and Tubbo found themselves face to face with a gathering of the undead.

With bulging eyes and mouths lined with yellowed, broken teeth, the pack shuffled down the debris-covered road in the opposite direction, still oblivious to Ranboo and Tubbo's appearance. They seemed too busy tracking something out of sight to pay attention to the smell of fresh, unspilled blood nearby. Unfortunately, Ranboo realized with a sinking feeling in his stomach, the thing they must have been searching for was Tommy, and to find him, he and Tubbo would have to make it through the horde of the starving dead.

Tubbo stared ahead at the mob, a sour expression painting his face. "Don't tell me-"

"We have to, Tubbo. Unless you want to leave Tommy to die over there."

"I'm gonna be honest bossman, that sounds pretty fuckin' appealing right now," Tubbo replied dryly.

"I really hope you're joking," Ranboo answered. "C'mon," he urged, gripping the crowbar in his gloved hands, and charged forward like a bull.

The zombies, luckily for Ranboo, moved slowly, giving him time to react between attacks. He swiped nimbly with his left hand, slamming the metal bar into the face of a corpse, taking its head off with a satisfying crunch. Ranboo heard a grunt next to his ear and rolled out of the way right as an undead creature swung at him, nearly grabbing his arm and pulling him back. He brought the crowbar down into the skull of his attacker and looked away as the creature made a strangled sound in the back of its throat. Bobbing and weaving through the sea of the undead, Ranboo slammed the crowbar into every shambling body he could reach, over and over again. He yelped as he suddenly felt something grab his arm, sending a wave of pain up his arm from the iron-like grip. He wrenched his hand away frantically and stabbed the crowbar into the zombie's eyes. Breathing heavily, he scrambled away from the horde and into the clear at last. Ranboo gripped his sore arm and anxiously looked over the sea of corpses. Tubbo hadn't come out of the mob yet, and Ranboo's stomach twisted with fear at the thought of something happening to him.

A loud smack came from somewhere inside the cluster of bodies, and at last, Tubbo appeared, waving his bloodstained baseball bat like a madman and shouting a string of curses at the undead hands grabbing at his clothes. He ran to Ranboo's side, gasping for air. "Don't ever fucking make me do that again, okay?"

Ranboo grinned, relieved that he seemed unharmed. "Alright, alright, whatever," he said, flicking a drop of blood from his face. "We have to keep moving or they'll catch up with us."

----------

Tubbo and Ranboo slid open the diner door silently, stepping over the upturned chairs and tables as they walked into the abandoned building. "Tommy?" Tubbo whispered. "Are you in here?"

"Tubbo?" A voice answered. A head of curly blond hair popped up from behind the counter, and an unmistakable look of relief swept over Tommy's face when he caught sight of the two. "Thank fuck," he muttered, breathing a sigh of relief and dragging himself to his feet, hauling his backpack with him. "I wasn't sure how much longer I'd last." Crawling out from behind the counter, Tommy pulled his green bandana down from over his mouth again and faced the duo. "How'd you get through that giant fuckin' mob back there?"

Ranboo and Tubbo held up their crowbar and bat, respectively. "We managed," Tubbo said with a shrug. "That's beside the point though, why have you been gone so long? You were supposed to be back, like, two hours ago!" The three inched towards the door as Tubbo talked, slipping back into the streets and booking it in the opposite direction they came from.

Tommy huffed, trying to keep up with his friends. "Other than those dickheads back there keeping me away, I stopped by Phil's place for a bit to get us some food," he explained through deep breaths. "We haven't been able to get out much, thought it'd help." He held up his lumpy bag, obviously full of cans and boxes.

"Tommy, you know carrying food long distances is dangerous," Ranboo huffed, pulling ahead of the group as they rounded a corner. "Those things can smell just about everything, what made you think that was even slightly a good idea?"

Tommy made an indignant scoffing noise in the back of his throat. "Well, ex-CUSE me, Boob Boy, for wanting to help out you and Tubbo. That's my bad," he said, placing unnecessary emphasis on the last two words.

Ranboo rolled his eyes with faux annoyance as the three of them kept walking. "How many times have I told you to stop calling me that?"

"Not enough clearly," Tubbo answered, amusement obvious in his tone.

"Oh my god-" A hand flew over his mouth as Tommy suddenly took a sharp turn and flattened him against the bricks of a rundown building. Ranboo bit back a pained grunt as his aching arm hit the bricks. "I can hear those fuckers nearby," he removed his palm from Ranboo's masked mouth, and the three of them pressed their backs against the crumbling wall. "Is there another way we can take?"

He pressed his lips into a thin line, eyes darting back and forth as he strained his ears to listen for the familiar groans of the undead. "There are only a few that won't take us, like, two hours," he whispered. "Most roads loop around the city, and-"

"-and there's no way in hell that we'd make it back alive if we travel in the dark," Tubbo finished bleakly. He stared at the ground, lost in thought as though he were hoping the answer would write itself on the sidewalk. "So what now? Just stay here and wait until the morning? Surely not," he looked up at the other two. "I mean, that's a death wish right there,"

Ranboo and Tommy nodded silently. "I guess there's always Phil's place, but that's a couple dozen blocks down the road," Ranboo suggested, glancing up at the sky. It was only marginally darker than when they'd left, but Ranboo knew the light wouldn't last for much longer - especially not with the luck they'd been having. He absently rubbed his sore arm, careful to keep something from hitting it again. "We'd have to leave now to be there before dark,"

"Don't tell me we have to fuckin' walk even more," Tommy griped loudly. "I just got back from his place, are you sure there isn't a faster way home?"

"We can leave you here with the horde, if that's what you prefer," Tubbo retorted. Slinging his yellow bag over one arm and hoisting his worn baseball bat over the other, he dashed down the street, calling to Tommy over his shoulder, "Hurry up, dickhead!"

"Tubbo, wait-!" Tommy shouted back as he and Ranboo followed suit, jogging down the sidewalk behind Tubbo to the safety of their friend's home.

It was nearly dark by the time the three came to the pale blue house. It sat on the city outskirts, barely safer than the houses on the inside but at least ten times cozier. Tommy rapped on the door raucously, and Ranboo and Tubbo cringed as the sound echoed, definitely alerting the nearby zombies to their presence.

They didn't have time to worry about that, thankfully, as Phil greeted them at the door, looking relieved. "You guys scared the shit out of me," he breathed as he ushered the three teens inside. "You can't just be out wandering and knocking on strangers' doors,"

"Phil, if you were a stranger, this would be very awkward right now," Ranboo said, kicking his boots off and shoving them in the corner.

"I'm- oh my god, you know what I mean," he replied exasperatedly. "Be careful out there, is all. I don't know what I'd do if you guys got hurt."

Silence fell over the group as they heard the subtext of Phil's words. 'If you guys got hurt again.' Ranboo peered over at Tubbo, whose hand had subconsciously drifted up to trace the burn scars that outlined his face. Ranboo's own hand had floated up to touch his bruised arm carefully. He wouldn't tell Phil about it. Not yet.

Coughing, Ranboo broke the silence as he drew his hand away from his injury and undid the clasp on his cloak. "Welp, uh, I'm gonna sit down if anyone else wants to come," he invited, plopping the heavy fabric in a pile with the rest of his things and wandering into the living room.

The fireplace was burning, and Wilbur laid next to the orange flames, half-lidded eyes staring sleepily at the ceiling. He blinked and sat up as Ranboo entered the room, still alone as Tubbo and Tommy followed Phil into the kitchen, discussing something Ranboo couldn't quite hear. "Hey, Rhombus," Wilbur smiled, holding back a yawn. "How goes it?" His eyes darted briefly to the yellow sweater Ranboo wore.

Ranboo shrugged, removing his mask and catching the brief smile that flickered across Wilbur's face. "Could be better, I suppose," he replied.

"I think you said that last time," Wilbur noted.

"Yeah, well, it's been hard to be great recently," Ranboo said, barely audible.

Wilbur nodded sagely nonetheless, shuffling away from the fire to sit on the carpet in front of the couch. "You're not wrong," he agreed. There was a moment of silence as Wilbur looked up at Ranboo, who sat stiffly on the sofa, clutching his arm lightly and staring blankly into the fire. "You all good?"

"Y-yeah, I'm fine," Ranboo answered, blinking himself out of his stupor and brushing a strand of hair from his eyes. "Just- pain is all. Nothing a little sleep can't fix," he insisted. Ranboo could see the doubt in Wilbur's eyes, and it made his stomach churn. He wasn't sure why. "I'm alright, seriously," he repeated. "I'd let you know if I wasn't, you know that."

"Right." Disbelief laced Wilbur's words, but he didn't pry, nor did Ranboo want to offer an explanation.

Wilbur opened his mouth to say something else, but he didn't get the chance as Tubbo peeped his head into the room. "Dinner's ready big man, if you're interested," he said, jabbing a thumb behind him towards the kitchen, the comforting smell of potato soup wafting through the house. "You too, Wilbur, I guess," he snickered.

Ignoring the lighthearted banter between the other two, Ranboo inhaled deeply, savoring the scent. It smelt like home, he thought, a small smile painting his face. Wordlessly, Ranboo padded through the doorway into the kitchen, where Techno, Tommy, and Phil sat around the table waiting.

"There you are," Techno greeted him, reaching for the soup spoon. "We were starvin' to death in here, c'mon man," he joked.

Ranboo huffed a laugh through his nose. "Sorry about that," he apologized, running a hand through his hair. "Been a long day." He caught Tubbo's eye, who agreed with a slight head nod.

"It's alright, mate," Phil assured him. He held the bowls as Techno ladled soup into them carefully. "We get it." Phil handed him a bowl, steaming and cozy, and Ranboo gratefully accepted. "Just hang out for a while, alright?"

The six of them sat around the small kitchen table, eating together and listening to the radio as songs old and new alike filled the air. Tubbo and Wilbur sang duets, and Techno and Tommy made increasingly strange parodies as Phil and Ranboo watched with amusement.

Tommy and Techno were mid-song about Phil when the music suddenly stopped, harsh static cutting through the joyful atmosphere like a knife.

"WE INTERRUPT YOUR PROGRAM FOR AN EMERGENCY ANNOUNCEMENT," the prerecorded sample recited. "ATTENTION, ALL CITIZENS OF NEW LENSLING COUNTY: A MANDATORY EVACUATION IS BEGINNING TOMORROW AT 11 AM. ALL PERSONS LIVING IN THE CITY MUST RELOCATE BEFORE THE END OF THE WEEK."

The once bright mood at the dinner table quickly sank, dread and icy cold fear replacing the warm feeling of family and safety.

"What the fuck?" Tommy murmured, turning the radio volume up to the max.

"COUNTY OFFICIALS WILL BE INSPECTING HOMES TO ENSURE THAT EVERYONE HAS EVACUATED. SAFE CITIES ARE AS FOLLOWS: ATTSTONE, WORWICKE, LANGSTEDSHIRE, SHANTOWSEA, AND SOUTH BIRBED. FURTHER QUESTIONS WILL BE ANSWERED AT-"

Wilbur turned off the radio with a harsh slam. "Great," he growled. "What the fuck do we do now? Surely they don't expect us to just be happy with this!"

"All our shit is still at home!" Tubbo added, agitated. "There's no way we have time to grab it tonight, and it'll take ages to get back to the apartment in the morning!" He grumbled. "This is bullshit!"

"Calm down, you two," Phil cut in, trying to curb the anger bubbling in the air. "We'll figure something out, okay?"

Tubbo and Wilbur had the same disgruntled look in their eyes, jaws set and eyes shadowed. "Fine," Tubbo muttered, standing up to look at Phil. "Tell us then, what's the plan? Do you even know what's going to happen to us?"

"Tubbo," Ranboo warned. "Calm down. We're all figuring it out as a group."

Tubbo folded his arms and sat heavily in his chair, still irritated.

Techno was already rifling through his things for a map of the county. "The safe zones were all cities nearby," he said, seemingly to himself. He rolled a thin map out over the table, careful to avoid the drops of soup. "Attstone, Worwicke, et cetera. The closest one to us would be-"

"South Birbed, innit?" Tommy finished, shoving his now-empty soup bowl out of the way to lean over the table. "It's 'bout a week-long trip on foot," he explained. "We could be there in no time if all of us leave first thing in the morning,"

"Hold on, Tommy," Techno stopped him as Tommy took a breath to say something else. "One of us needs to stay behind and let someone know where we're goin', right Phil?"

"They need to send a message to all the safe zones to tell 'em how many people to prepare for," Phil confirmed. "I'll stay behind, tell whoever may stop by that the six of us are heading south, yeah?"

Ranboo and the other four shared a look of hesitance, none of them quite sure how to respond. "I don't want to leave you behind, Phil," Ranboo admitted. "Are you 100 percent sure you'll be alright on your own?"

Phil waved a hand dismissively. "You don't have to worry about me, mate. I'll catch up with you all in no time."

Phil's promise sent a wave of relief around the room. Wilbur and Tubbo looked more at ease, and Ranboo, Techno, and Tommy all breathed a sigh. "We should probably pack up our shit, I guess." Tommy rose to his feet, stretching and yawning. "Early start tomorrow, aye?"

They all stood, some more hesitant than others, and dispersed to their respective sleeping quarters. Tommy, Tubbo, and Ranboo trekked upstairs single file, carrying their bags, weapons, and everything in between into the large bedroom silently. It wasn't like they hadn't done this same thing before, but something about knowing it might be the last time for a while made the mood feel more somber than usual.

Tommy flopped onto the large, pillowy mattress with a sigh. "I can't believe we're being fuckin' kicked out," he muttered crossly, a change in mood from the upbeat leader persona he'd put on downstairs (probably to prove himself to the adults). "And to South Birbed of all places!"

Ranboo snorted, his eyes crinkling up with laughter. "What did South Birbed ever do to you?" He asked, watching as Tubbo crawled onto the bed next to Tommy.

"I dunno, it just seems like a shit city," Tommy shrugged.

Tubbo smacked him with a pillow, and Tommy yelped in protest, shouting a string of curse words at his assailer. "Mercy, mercy!" Tommy begged as he and Tubbo began a pillow fight.

Ranboo looked on with mild intrigue but didn't join the party. Instead, he slipped away from the other two into the bathroom and shut the door.

He pried his gloves off his hands and rinsed his face, desperate to clean the dirt and grime from his forehead and fingers. Ranboo stared at himself in the mirror, watching beads of water run down his face. He looked like a mess, he thought briefly, before drying the water with a towel. He winced, feeling a shock of pain flow up his arm as he blotted the water with the scratchy cloth. Deftly, he rolled up his sweater sleeve to examine his arm.

A little bit of broken skin, Ranboo noticed. He caught sight of a few small indents, which he assumed were from fingernails digging into his arm when the zombie had grabbed him. He made a mental note to keep checking the wound before it got infected and rolled his sleeve down again.

With a newly clear head, he reentered the bedroom quietly. Tommy and Tubbo had already claimed the bed, he noted, as the two laid on either half of the mattress, Tommy's head and Tubbo's feet on one end and the other way around at the foot of the bed. Ranboo sighed as he realized he'd have to sleep on the floor. Swiftly, he snagged a pillow from the bed, careful not to wake the already-snoring Tubbo, and dragged a throw blanket from a basket to sleep beneath. Begrudgingly, he laid on his makeshift bed, staring at the ceiling.

He had never noticed it before, but shining overhead was a galaxy of artificial stars, blinking and twinkling. The question of "why" briefly crossed Ranboo's mind as he stared at the bright little shapes above him. It made sense, he supposed, since the room belonged to Wilbur years before he, Tommy, or Tubbo ever stayed there. Still, he thought, it was surprising that Phil had kept them up there after all this time. Maybe he wanted to keep a little piece of the good times with him.

Ranboo felt a pit form in his stomach as he thought about the future (or possible lack thereof). The uncertainty made his stomach churn as he yawned, eyelids drooping. Thoughts of traveling and an image of the artificial galaxy were fresh in his mind as he rolled over that night, shutting his eyes and letting the darkness of sleep wash over him at last.

#ranboo #tubbo #tommyinnit #philza #wilbur soot #technoblade #dream smp #dsmp #mcyt #blood tw #injury tw #violence tw #zombies cw #my writing

[heyitsjay03]

I saw request we’re open for RE8. Could I please have a fem! reader who tries to get rid of Ethan Winters because he keeps causing distress to her wife, Alcina? Please and thank you.

yes. yes you most certainly can have this.

i have been DYING to write about some alcina x fem!reader for the sole reason being that i have NEVER questioned my sexuality so hard since this damn game came out so yeah.

ps: wrote this in first person hope that's okay!

pps: there is some major plot deviation because.... i felt like it. idk. it fit??

DISCLAIMER: I do not claim to own Resident Evil or its characters or plot. CAPCOM please don't come for me.

here you go love >:)

word count: 1.57k

"Girls!" I call, closing the door behind me. "My darlings, I'm home!" Shifting the grip on the parcel of items from the village, I look around.

Usually one of the girls would've answered by now. Bela is usually here to greet me.

She's probably with her mother.

I shrug off my fur coat, handing it to one of the maids. She takes it and lays it over the back of a chair. I can tell by the large, gnarled scar on her forearm who she is "Marienna," I mumble, staring up the stairway. "...where're the girls?"

Marienna's face pales as she stares back at me. Her mouth opens and closes like a trout. "Well?" I snap, "D'you know where they are or-?!"

A crash resounds down the hallway. Alcina's voice tears from her bedroom, followed by a shuddering sob.

I'm hurrying up the stairs in seconds, abandoning the parcel. My body collides with the door- forcing it open.

Our bedroom is destroyed- the vanity broken to pieces. Alcina's soft hands cling to the golden wood, thumb rubbing against the varnish. Slowly, her eyes trail up to me. A smile nearly as broken as the vanity crosses her painted lips. "...I loved this damned mirror," she mumbles, eyes turning down to the broken pieces again.

"What happened, darling?" I coo, stepping over the pieces to stand beside her. My hand on her shoulder, I turn her face gently towards mine. Tears are streaming down her face- leaving jagged streaks of mascara. "Are you alright? What happen-"

Alcina's body tenses under my touch. Trembling, her grip tightens on the wood. It cracks before being wrenching in twain in her hands. "It was that stupid manthing!" She hisses, standing back up to her full height.

"...what 'manthing'?" I ask, "Your brother?"

Alcina ignores me, leaning back down to pluck one of the larger fragments before throwing it across the room. "He laid his filthy paws on our daughters!"

My mind races as it struggles to understand what the hell is happening.

Manthing.

It's not Heisenberg. He'd never lay a finger on the girls.

Some brutish village slug- that's got to be it.

But why? Why on earth would they...?

It doesn't matter.

As Alcina leans down to grab another bit, I grab her hand. "...are... are the girls okay? Where are they?"

A shuddering sigh passes her lips. "...they're all together," she whispers, wiping tears from her face hastily. "Bela... she was... that disgusting beast, he nearly killed her!"

"What?" I mutter, eyebrows drawing together as I step back. "...what... well is she okay? What happened? Is she going to be alright?!"

Alcina sighs again. "...she'll be alright," her hand wraps around mine gently. "Her sisters found her. Brought her to me."

"Where is she now?," I ask, tightening my grip around her finger. "My baby girl... where...?"

Alcina smiles warmly, getting down onto one knee. Her fingers brush back the hair from my eyes. Tears fall quickly down my face as I realize what could've happened if Cassandra and Daniela weren't nearby. "She's with her sisters," she answers gently. "Resting... waiting for her mother to get back with the flowers and silk from the village."

A cold laugh passes my lips before I sniffle. "...her mother should've been there. Should've never left."

Alcina's face tightens. "You can't blame yourself, darling," she mumbles, turning my chin up so I can face her. "No one knew this... Ethan Winters... would be so hideously vindictive."

I nod slowly, wiping the tears from my face. "...can I see her?"

"Of course, my love," she says, leaning in to press her lips to my cheek. "Of course."

The two of us walk down the halls to the center of the house. 'Safest place for her' Alcina had told me.

She had spoken to me the entire way over here, trying to get me out of my own head.

Bless my beloved wife for trying.

But that name. It just keeps buzzing around my mind.

Images of my hands, covered in thick blood, gripping the handle of a sickle play through my head. The blade going through the jugular of this 'Ethan Winters' and popping out the other side. Him desperate for air, choking on his own hot blood, as he watches me loom over him.

His last words will be for mercy.

His last view will be my blade.

My breath is bated as I watch him stalk through the darkness of the courtyard. In the moonlight, I can see is head is down, eyes wary as he keeps a fair grip on his pistol. The cool air lets me see him regulating his breathing- keeping him steady, keeping his pistol steady.

He's experienced.

My grip on my own weapon tightens as he stops in the gazebo. His eyes narrow as he turns around, his pistol raised. I watch in mild amusement as he whirls around, looking for something to shoot.

He's experienced, yes, but still not experienced enough.

I tug the fabric around my face higher along the bridge of my nose. Gripping my sickle, I balance on the balls of my feet.

Ethan finally relaxes, dropping his arms with his back to me.

A small smile creeps along my lips under the mask. A foolish move made by an even more foolish man.

My body slides underneath the stone railings for the stairs leading into the center of the courtyard. Untucking one of the smaller knives from my belt, I pinch it between two fingers and flick my wrist forward.

The knife goes flying- landing right between Ethan's shoulder blades. A guttural yell comes from him as he spins around to face me. In a blink, I'm up in front of him, nose brushing against his.

I can see the fear in his eyes.

I can't help my smile growing beneath the dark fabric.

Ethan raises his hand, pistol in his palm. With a tut of my lips, I shake my head and stab his hand through with my sickle. "...no, no," I mumble as he continues to scream and thrash against my hold. "There'll be none of that, I'm afraid, Mister Winters."

His teeth gritted, he hisses as my sickle is pulled from the inner part of his wrist. A bitter laugh bubbles up from my gut as he stumbles back onto the floor of the gazebo, now holding the pistol in his shaky left hand. "You can't be serious!" I giggle as Ethan pulls the trigger.

A wet squelch hits my ears as the bullet tears into my stomach. I sigh dramatically, looking down at the gushing hole in my dress. "You didn't think I was human- did you?" I ask, twirling the sickle in my hand.

"Wh- what?" Ethan mutters, eyes fixated on the bullet wound in my torso.

"I'm not," I continue, stepping closer to him as he tries to back away. Another gunshot echoes through the courtyard- the bullet landing in my left shoulder. "Not entirely, anyways."

"What the hell are you?!" Ethan yells, firing three more shots. One in the crook of my neck, one just barely grazing my temple, one lodging itself in my hip.

My jaw tightens as I hurry forward, grabbing him by the collar and throwing him back into the center of the gazebo. "I!" I snap, grabbing him again and gripping his wrist. "I... am the mother of the girl you almost killed!"

I pull another knife out of my belt. Trailing it down his lips, I smile. "And the wife... to a woman scorned." With a single swing, the knife digs into the flesh of his palm and nails it to the gazebo.

Ethan yells in pain. As I step back, his other fist cracks across my face. I stumble back. Grabbing at my cheek, I chuckle darkly. "Oh, Ethan," I coo coyly, grabbing my sickle. "You really shouldn't have done that."

I swing and watch with what could only be described as 'glee' as the blade pierces his throat. Covered in blood, the blade glistens crimson in the pale moonlight. Ethan's choked pleas are drowned out by my laughter.

"Why?" is the only word able to leave his lips without being smothered in a gush of blood.

"Because, Mister Winters," I hum, my nose brushing against his as I watch the life in his eyes flicker. "You should never have touched my family."

BONUS ENDING:

"What is that delicious smell?"

I turn around to see Alcina bending down to peek outside. A smile crosses my lips as I gesture to the mutilated corpse with the end of my sickle. "Dinner, my love," I hum, wiping off the blade with the fabric I had used for a mask. "Sorry it's not the cleanest."

Alcina scoffs and waves me off. "It's fine, _________. I'll just go let the girls know their mother brought dinner...," she pauses, eyes flicking over the gushing body. "...who was that? He smells... familiar."

"Just Ethan Winters," I answer nonchalantly.

"...y-you..." Alcina stammers, eyebrows weaving together and lips pursing. "You... when did you-?"

"He must've been tired," I continue with a small smile. "He was not nearly as difficult a kill as I thought he'd be."

"...I'll... I'll be going now."

"Okay, love," I chirp, "I'll drag him in in a second. Love you!"

Alcina's eyes are still wide, mouth slightly agape as she steps away from the doorway. "...love you too... darling."

can you tell i had a lot of fun with this?

yeah. because i did.

i hope you enjoyed! writing lady d is so much freaking fun i kid you not.

big vampy lady make brain go brr

#lady dimitrescu x reader #lady dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu x fem!reader #bela dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu #anon ask #anon #resident evil village fanfiction #resident evil village #resident evil 8 #ethan winters #manthing (derogatory) #had way too much fun with this #it was supposed to be like 500 words tops #it ended up being over 3 times that

[thefanbasewhore]

I feel like Din would be so protective over his pregnant girl 🥰🥰

Clan leader Din coming at you 😁😁🥰

Content/Warning: Clan Leader Din is just a little protective over his pregnant riduur. Mentions of sex, and all that. I got carried away lol, it went a little off topic. Not edited.

Din/female reader.

It wasn't necessary planned, the pregnancy. After Din had finally convinced you to marry him after months of asking. While you weren't against the idea from the beginning it was the reasoning behind it, the elders of the clan pushed for it and even offered Din an alternative spouse to further to clan.

They would prefer it actually, combining the clan with another mandalorian. That was the problem, you weren't mandalorian. The moment you arrived with Din you could tell you were unwelcomed.

The elderly would only address Din, the men of the claim wouldn't even look in your direction, and the females all wanted to be you.

It wasn't always like this, you and Din first met when he was just a bounty hunter, but after the destruction of the Razor Crest and getting rid of Moff Gideon the mandalorian race had finally resurfaced and the the leader of those people was chosen by the armour; the backbone of the people.

That marriage was a celebration, the clan was whole and the elders were happy. The night was filled with dancing, gifts, layers and layers of beads laid against their chests.

Din was happy, the silver beskar was painted with while lines, smudged from the elders, swirls of symbol that connected their souls forever. Eyes drift to his riduur, laughing and smiling as the children gather around you.

Grogu was happy as well, and safe, that's all the mattered. That night he made love to you only in the beads, a giant bed filled with pellets and pellets of furs, finally able to take his helmet off. It was a surreal moment, never had you pressured him, tried to rip the creed away but instead watched nervously as shaky fingers slowly lift the helmet.

You barely have a minute to register those brown eyes, soft curve of his nose, the square jaw as lips meet yours with a rough, wanting speed.

It was only a few weeks later when he started to notice a small difference, you were tired more, felt sick throughout the day, certain foods made you nauseous.

"Are you okay baby?" Din's voice was just above a whisper, cool basker against your ear. The head of the table was only occupied by you and him but that chattering of the dinning hall was loud, at least a hundred voices.

He couldn't help but notice you haven't touched your food, while he could not eat in front of the others he still ate with his clan, so did the other mandalorians who took the same creed as him. Your fork just moved the food around the plate, you haven't had an appetite in weeks and when you did eat, minutes later it was coming back up.

"Mmm," you agree, "Just not hungry."

Din's fingers firmly press against your eblow, concerned. "You haven't eaten dinner in a week."

"I-I don't know, I just feel sick."

Din takes the fork from your hand, stabbing the hunk of meat that hasn't been touched. "I don't like you not eating."

The fork is brought to her lips, a way of making sure his riduur is fed. Din doesn't like the look on your face, side eyeing with a hint of disgust. The smell brought an instant phase of nausea, being so close to your lips doesn't help.

Din nudges it further. "Eat."

"I can't."

"Eat now." His tone was not one to argue with, sharp and without a second thought your lips wrap around the fork. The moment the chunk of meat hits your tongue, bile starts to rise.

Trying not to make a scene you raise from the table, stumbling away from the dinning hall, no longer in site as the contents of your stomach empty into the grass.

"Cyar'ika." Soft hands find your lower back, his other leather gloves gathering the loose strands of hair. "What's wrong?"

He rubs soft circles against your back, "Tell me, you're scaring me."

Your hand rest against his chest for stability, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. Eyes meet his visor with a sigh. "I'm pregnant Din."

Ever since that day Din had been stuck at your side, the promise of a child was all it took. Family was important, it was held above all on the creed.

It had started early, at meetings, at dinner times he would have you close, sometimes even sitting on his lap, hands playing with the ends of your hair.

Any kind of physical activity was out of the question, small walks were allowed but only if himself or a clan member was present. Which of course none of them minded, protecting the future of the clan.

A child born into the clan was everything, a gift, foundlings were the future but born children a gift especially of a clan leader.

The moment you started showing he couldn't keep his hands to himself, always had to have his hand pressed against it, kiss the round bump when alone.

"Go sit down." His soft hands nudge you towards the direction of the table, "I'll get your plate for you sweet girl."

"I can get it, you don't-"

Din shakes his head, "Go, I'll be right there."

"Don't forget the -"

"Strawberries." He answers for you, "I know sweetheart, I'll get extra."

"Oh and -"

"Cake, I know Cyar'ika. Go sit down, be careful of the children." By children he meant the small children who would run circles around you, press small hands against your belly with happiness. All their parents telling them about the baby, a special baby that helped saved the future of the clan.

Towards the middle of your pregnancy, you started the nursery. With that came lots of bickering, he didn't want you high to paint the walls on the chair, he didn't want you too low roll out the area rug, he didn't want you breathing in the paint, getting into the tub alone, or just being alone.

It was suffocating, but you understood why. After Grogu was taken, Din thought he'd never see his son again. He couldn't take the heart break, the pain, and promised he would never let either of his children out of his sight again.

"What are you doing?" Din's voice was low and hoarse, tiredly wrapping his arms around you from the back, resting against your belly.

Towards the end of your pregnancy Din was more laid back, that exact reason being you being on bed rest for the next few weeks. "I hear Grogu."

"I'll get him, go back to sleep."

You decide to ignore him despite his protest. The small groan followed by, "Sweetheart."

Din followed behind, watching you waddle across the hall to the dark room. "What's wrong my love?"

It was for Grogu, concerned why he isn't sleeping already. When the light flickers on Grogu's arms reaching for his mother. The small child presses his small hands against your cheeks with a small wail.

His eyes meet his father's behind him, smiling sweetly. Din presses a kiss against your shoulder, hand rubbing the petal ears. "Why aren't you sleeping buddy?"

The child's hand run lower until he's whining, trying to reach for the swell of your belly. It was something he often did. It was no secret the child was special, he knew things, felt things. He would often bring you flowers when he played outside, placing them right on your belly. From that you gathered he was trying to tell you something, he would have a sister.

Din's head rest against your neck as you rock the small child against your chest. Din's heart has never been so full. All of you safe, together and happy. As he rest his hands against the swell, his future daughter he lets a sigh out. "Thank you."

"for what?"

"Giving me everything I wanted, being everything I ever wanted."

#din djarin imagine #din djarin x reader #the mandolorian x reader #the mandolorian imagine

[imtooscaredforthis]

Basketcase

Chapter 21- Cheater

Mentions of: Cheating, Guilt, Slight NSFWish themes, hickeys, etc.

Tags: @prettycutebunny @gloomyladyy @froegis

You awoke to a familiar stabbing pain in your head, inhaling sharply. Groaning, you rubbed your temples, shifting around slightly, muttering under your breath. “Shit.”

“Bad dream?” Frank greeted you, running his fingers up and down your arm, as he held you, tracing little designs. You smiled at him, sighing softly.

Here you two laid, on his mattress, in his room in Ormond. Ever since Glendale, you two have been hooking up whenever you see each other. Sometimes it could be a trial, when he leaves you to be the last one, other times it could be when no one’s left at Ormond, and he comes over to the campfire to pick you up.

You two never spoke much about what you’ve been doing, even though both of you knew it was wrong. Both of you had someone else, yet you two went to each other, sneaking around. There was something so wrong about it, something that felt so right.

“I have to go. Entity’s calling me for another trial.” You explained, despite your reluctance to leave him.

Frank took a breath, letting you go from his embrace, and leaving you cold. You sat up, grabbing a cracked mirror on the nightstand, examining the hickeys on your neck. “Ugh, Frank you have to quit doing this shit to my neck. What am I supposed to tell Quentin?”

“I don’t know, just say you got attacked by a killer or something.” Frank shrugged, watching as you ran your fingers over the marks before you went to grab your clothes.

“By what killer? A fucking killer octopus?” You scoffed with a small chuckle, before putting on your shirt, buttoning it up. You tugged at the collar, doing what you could to hide the marks.

He shouldn’t notice. Hopefully.

“Well, I think you should show them off. They look good on you.” Frank said, crawling over to you, stopping when he was right behind you. His hands snaked around his waist, and you looked over your shoulder at him, smirking at him and kissing him.

His hands moved up and down your waist, before moving down to slip into your underwear, but you grabbed his hand, stopping him and breaking the kiss. “What do you think you’re doing? I have to go.”

“You’re no fun.” He groaned, letting go of you and laying back on the mattress. You stretched your legs out, pulling the rest of your stockings up. “I know, but I’ve had enough fun for now. We can have some more next time.”

You knew there was going to be the next time. There always was, despite how you fought with Frank, how you fought with yourself, saying “We can’t do this again” yet finding yourself crawling back to him.

It was intoxicating, addicting. Frank was like a drug you couldn’t get enough of. No matter how much you tried to get away, you always ended up coming back to him, just like he did to you.

You got to your feet with a sigh, stretching and walking over to the door, grabbing the knob and opening it slightly, before turning back to Frank. “See you lat-”

Suddenly, he pulled you back, pressing a kiss to your lips and interrupting you. You kissed him back, before pulling away with a grin. “You’re lucky I like you.”

“Yeah, I am.” He replied, making you roll your eyes and press a kiss to his cheek. “Bye.”

--

You had just got out of a trial when you found Queintin, sitting alone yet again, in that same spot you both met at. Smiling to yourself, you walked over to him and sat beside him. “Hey.”

“Hey.” He grinned back at you tiredly. You could tell he wanted to sleep, badly. But never have you actually seen him do it, besides the occasional dozing off.

“Long trial?” You asked simply, fiddling with the hem of your skirt, before gazing up at him again.

“Yeah, it’s nice to have a break though. And nice to see you again.” He admitted with a sigh. You smiled at him, resting your head on your shoulder.

“Missed you too.” You muttered. Even though you knew it was a lie.

“So where have you been?” He questioned, changing the subject.

You shrugged, eyeing your skirt, messing with a loose thread hanging off of it and wrapping your finger around it. “In trials, same as you.”

You felt horrible, lying to him like this, but how could you not? You couldn’t break his heart, not yet anyways, but still, you knew what you wanted. And it wasn’t him. Sure, he was a great friend, but, after going deeper into your feelings, you realized that was all he would ever be to you.

It wasn’t until recently that you realized your feelings, and by then it was too late, because you and Quinten had already become a thing. You would tell him eventually, this just wasn’t the right time. But you knew there never would be a right time for something like this.

Fuck, you had already messed up so much. How much more could you screw up with him?

Guilt began to twist in your stomach, and you tugged at the grass, sighing softly. God, what are you going to do?

--

Frank walked downstairs, zipping up the jacket. Making his way over to the kitchen, he hummed softly, going to grab something, but not before noticing something in the corner of eye.

It was Susie, sitting on the couch, her arms folded. She was silent, her mask on her face so Frank couldn’t see her expression.

Shit, how long has she been sitting here?

“Oh, Susie. I didn’t know you were here.” Frank said, playing it cool. But deep down he knew something was wrong. She normally wasn’t this quiet.

“What were you doing up in your room?” Is all she replied with, making Frank panic even more.

He managed to remain calm, shrugging and going to grab his mask off the table. “Just listening to some music.”

“Really, because I didn’t hear anything.” The younger girl pushed further. “Well I had headphones on.”

“Okay, enough of this crap.” She took off her mask, standing up and walking over to Frank. She had an angry, solemn expression on her face, and that was when Frank knew he really messed up.

“I saw (y/n) leaving your room. I saw you kiss her. You say that we’re supposed to be a family. But then you just lie to me! To everyone! You do this and you- you cheat on Julie! Why?” She snapped.

“Keep your voice down.” Frank told her, feeling the shame and guilt swell up inside.

“No! I want answers. I deserve them, and so does the rest of The Legion. And if you don’t tell Julie about this- then- then I will!”

#dead by deadlight #dbd #dbd killer #dbd x reader #dbd legion #legion frank #frank morrison #legion dbd #frank morrison x reader #dbd frank #frank legion #legion susie #legion julie #killer x you #killer x reader #dbd survivor #dbd fanfic

[johnsamericano]

𝓓𝓪𝔂 3:

ѕυн נσнииу

23 days of NCT masterlist.

warnings: tooth-rotting shit, Johnny is a dick at the beggining, inexperienced reader, fem masturbation, it's kinda bad but I hope you enjoy.

taglist: @notbeforelong @curieouscapt @whathamelon @unknown5tar

“I’m going out with my friends tonight, don’t wait up for me.” He commented while slipping his black, leather shoes on.

“Drive carefully .” You answered as you popped a cup of instant ramen inside the microwave.

“Yeah.” You took a deep breath after the door closed behind him. Freedom finally.

You turned on the Tv, setting the volume louder than usual. Johnny didn’t like noise, to be honest, he probably didn’t even like you. He had so many house rules, you couldn’t even breathe without getting scolded by him. Not even three months had passed since your wedding and you already felt like you were in some sort of military camp.

“God, it smells so nice.” You murmured, pulling out the hot cup from the microwave and dumping the content in a bowl.

You ate on the sofa, another thing that Johnny hated, while watching your favorite series, enjoying your time alone. If it wasn’t for your parents, you would’ve never agreed to marry him, but they sounded so excited with the idea that you couldn’t refuse them, it wasn’t like you had a line of men waiting for you anyways.

You decided to have a little dessert, a mug cake, to be specific. You decided to make one for Johnny as well, the memories of you as kids eating all sorts of candies coming back to you as to mixed all the ingredients together. What happened to him during high school? All you knew was that he studied abroad and came back like a completely different man. He wasn’t your Johnny anymore. Of course, you were sad at first, but your sadness soon turned into anger as his attitude towards you got worse.

“Get lost.” Or “You’re so annoying.” Were some of the things you’d often hear.

You stopped trying after a semester, and it was quite healing to be honest. But then your parents had to bring him back to your life, and in the worst way possible. Nevertheless, they seemed happy, knowing that someone nice was living with you. Of course, they didn’t know the new Johnny.

After eating up all your food, you washed the dishes and laid down on the couch, your eyelids slowly closing as you drifted away. It wasn’t until a couple of hours later when a pair of arms woke you.

“Huh?” You opened your eyes a bit disoriented.

Johnny held you between his arms, carrying you towards your shared bedroom, which he almost never used.

“Go back to sleep, I got you.” He tucked you in with delicate movements. You could sense alcohol in his breath, but he wasn’t acting drunk at all. “Close your eyes.” He murmured as he felt your gaze over him.

“If alcohol was all it took for you to be nice, I would’ve poured some whiskey on your morning coffee every day.” He couldn’t help but chuckle at your remarks.

“I’ve been a bit rude to you, haven’t I?” He kneeled down in front of the bed, his thumb tracing the shape of your eyebrow. Now you were certain he was drunk. “I’m sorry, I still don’t know how to act around you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Ever since you rejected me-”

“I’m sorry, what?” You frowned.

“You know, the letter I sent you when I was abroad...” He tried helping you remember, things getting clearer for him at your lack of response. “You didn’t get it, did you?” You shook your head. “Shit.”

“So you’ve been an ass to me for a letter I didn’t even get? Way to go, Suh.” Anger started boiling at the bottom of your stomach, sleepiness abandoning your system. “God, I wanna hit you so bad right now.”

“Please, do so.” He felt like a piece of garbage, having treated the girl he loved like his worst enemy for a misunderstanding. “But, hypothetically, if you had gotten that letter...what would’ve been your answer?” He fidgeted with the bedsheets, feeling your legs shift under them.

“I don’t know, what did it say?”

“I’m not gonna tell you what a lame 14 year old wrote to his crush.” He scoffed. “It was just a love confession, quite cheesy if you ask me.”

“If I had gotten that letter...” You cupped his soft cheeks, they were burning, probably because of the drinks he’d had, or maybe because of your touch. “I would’ve begged my parents to let me take a flight to see you, so I could answer to your confession in person.” His heart stopped, the answer he’d longed for so many years was finally about to slip from your mouth. “I did like you, John. But then you abruptly changed, and you hurt me so much during this past years.” Your words sounded unforgiving, and yet, you had the softest look on your moonlit face. “But I’m willing to let that go if you tell me what you’re feeling right now.”

He didn’t hesitate to pull your face closer to his, your noses slightly touching.

“I’m so glad you agreed to marry me, that way I get to spend the rest of my life with the woman I’ve loved for so many years. Only if you want that too, of course.”

“Will rude Johnny be back tomorrow morning?” You asked, your eyebrows knitted together.

“Rude Johnny’s dead.” His sweet smile encouraged you to finally shorten the distance between your lips. It was your very first real kiss as a couple.

Your lips fitted perfectly together, like two puzzle pieces. He was the first to make a move, placing his hand on the back of your neck to pull you closer as he climbed on top of your body. The kiss started getting heated, his tongue freely exploring your mouth as his hands got playful, softly kneading your breast.

The palms of your hands touched his well built pecs, a small gasp escaping your mouth as you realized how strong he really was. He was definitely not the skinny teenager you were in love with.

“What is it, baby?” He smiled, his cheeks turning slightly pink, your wide eyes looking attentively at him.

“Did you eat teenage Johnny or something?” He laughed, the prettiest and most genuine laugh you’d ever heard from him.

“No, but there’s someone else I’m surely gonna eat out tonight.” You smack his chest, a high pitched whine coming out from his mouth. “What was that for?”

“Don’t talk like that...it’s my first time.” He’d already guessed it by the fact that you’d never had a boyfriend or a proper date, but it was still shocking to hear it from your own mouth.

“Then I guess I’ll have to be gentle.” His long fingers started undoing the buttons of his dress shirt right in front of your inexperienced eyes, cockily smirking at the way you’d unconsciously bite your lower lip. “Can I ask something?” You nodded, eyes still glued to his half naked chest. “The day of our wedding...was that your first kiss?” You remembered the lame peck you received as soon as the officiant declared you husband and wife.

“Sadly.” He felt as if a hundred needles were stabbing his lovesick heart.

“I’m sorry.” He apologized, kissing your soft lips over and over again. “I stole your first kiss.”

“Then make up for it.” You raised your hips, your sensitive core meeting with his bulge and stealing a gasp from both of you.

His hungry lips attached to your neck, sucking several purple marks on it as your hands quickly worked through the remaining buttons of his shirt, helping him slide it down his arms. Even with the lack of light in your room, you could see his torso perfectly, the way his biceps would twitch as his hands slipped inside your shirt, thumbs caressing the soft skin of your tummy.

“Johnny.” You moaned, his hands moving upwards to play with your hard nipples.

“Turn on the light on the nightstand, I want to see you.” He murmured beside your ear, kissing the shell of it as you extended your arm to do as he said.

You blinked repeatedly, trying to adjust to the new illumination. Johnny looked even more ethereal under the dim, yellow light.

“Why have you got to be so damn perfect?” Your fingers traced his well-defined abs, mesmerized by the shape of them. While you were distracted drooling over his body, he took the chance to lift your shirt just above your round boobs, moaning at the sight of the two, beautiful mounds. Reality stroke you as you felt your nipples harden from the cold air. “Don’t look at me like that.” You avoided his eyes, your body growing hotter under his intense gaze.

“How do you expect me to look at the woman I love?” You turned to your side, shirt still lifted.

“Stop it.” Johnny loved how shy you’d always been around him, specially whenever he complimented you.

“No.” He pecked your cheek, hands going down to remove your shorts, stopping right before lowering the waistband. “Are you really okay with this?” You nodded, still refusing to look at him.

“Are you?”

“What a silly question, of course I am.” Without any further delay, he pulled both of the pieces covering your lower half down. You pressed your legs together, trying to hide your wet center. “Why are you hiding yourself from me, baby?” He mocked, hands caressing your round ass.

“I’ve never been naked in front of anyone.” He was quick to dispose his remaining clothes, wanting to make you feel more comfortable.

“Look at me.” His big hand was holding the side of your head as you turned back to him, trying your best not to look down at his manhood. “Open your legs for me.” As he was the experienced one, you decided to let him take the lead, slowly revealing yourself to him. “Good girl.” His praises only sent electric shocks right into your core.

“Are you gonna put it inside now?” Adorable, Johnny thought, using his finger pads to tease your inner thighs.

“No, I need to prepare you first. Otherwise, it might hurt.” He’d done it thousands of times, but it somehow felt different with you, as if he had to be extra careful to make sure you had the most pleasurable experience, even if it meant having to endure the stinging pain between his legs for a while longer.

He first used his middle finger to run it up and down your slit, satisfied at how wet you were for him. He talked you through every single one of his movements, making sure you were comfortable with everything he was doing.

“Johnny.” You whined, three fingers pumping in and out of your entrance. It was definitely different than when you did it by yourself, his digits reached deeper, delivering a new kind of pleasure. “I need you.”

He hummed, pulling out his fingers to grab the base of his dick. He ran the tip over your slit, your hips slightly bucking at the contact.

“Tell me when it stops hurting.” He was only halfway in when you asked him for a break, already feeling overwhelmingly full. “Don’t worry, take your time.” He said despite feeling the urgent need to move.

It took you a few minutes to recover, letting him bottom out. The pain was bearable after that first break, so you almost immediately asked him to move. Johnny started off slowly, both of his hands beside your head as he rolled his hips against yours.

“Does it feel good?” He didn’t even need a verbal answer, your facial expressions were more than enough to let him know just how good he was making you feel. “I’m not gonna last long.”

“Me neither.” You held onto his biceps, the knot on your tummy becoming tighter as he picked up the pace.

He lowered his face to connect your lips, both of you moaning into each other’s mouth as you reached your high, bare chests touching each other while you tried to slow your heartbeat.

“I wish this would’ve been out wedding night.” He kissed your collarbone, pulling out to plop down beside you. “Again, I’m really sorry.”

“Let it go already, John.” You hugged his naked body against yours, letting his hand play with your hair. “As long as you’re like this from now on, we’ll be alright.”

You didn’t even notice when your eyes started closing again, falling asleep beside your now loving husband. The next morning you panicked as he wasn’t by your side anymore. Had it been a dream?

“Good morning, sunshine.” Johnny suddenly came through the door, a tray with food between his hands. “You must be hungry after last night.” He left it on top of your legs, smiling naturally as if this was your everyday routine.

It was definitely gonna take time to adjust to this Johnny.

“Heart shaped sandwiches? That’s so corny, Suh.” You laughed, staring at your food with sparkly eyes.

“Hey! That took me two hours to make.” He went to the bathroom and returned with a hairbrush. “Your hair’s a mess, let me fix it while you eat.” He sat down behind you, slowly going through your hair as you stuffed your face with food.

“Does this mean I’m not gonna have to add whiskey to your morning coffee?” He chuckled behind you, pressing his lips to the back of your neck.

“That won’t be necessary.” He tied your hair up in a not-so-messy bun, lacing his arms and legs around your waist once he was done. “You look cute on my shirt.” You hadn’t even noticed. Probably he’d cleaned you up and dressed you right after you fell asleep.

“I look cute in everything.”

“Yes you do.” More kisses. “Now hurry up, we’re going out today.”

“Where to?”

“I’m taking you out on our very first date.”

#nct smut #nct angst #nct fluff #nct au #nct imagines #nct ot21 #nct x reader #nct #nct 127 #nct scenarios