#shudder pulps | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

glystenangel · 10 months

Note

Hi! I would love to request a Sukuna x Sorcerer Reader oneshot where the reader gets called in to help to fight against Sukuna. When the reader arrives to fight, Sukuna took a liking towards her and flirts with her while fighting. Also, this would be enemies to lovers, smut and romance, a spicy vibe to it, and I'm okay with you posting this oneshot publicly ^^ - ☀️💖👑

In the Heat of Battle

Sukuna x Sorceror&Afab!Reader

tags/warnings: 18+ MDNI, everything in the ask but also i did this in a historical au bc...i like them, sitting in a hot spring with sukuna, SEX, cunnilingus, degradation/praise, edging😇, dirty talk, cussing, ridin', bratty reader, cumeating, sukunas got his 4 arms, half smut half fluff, i get a bit philosophical in the middle sorry, mentions of murder, injuries, and blood, etc.

~ 10k i got a lil too excited mayhaps bc this is not oneshot length but whatever

thanks for requesting, i hope you like<3

_________________

Fighting a curse like Sukuna meant you were lucky to be alive for this long.

Of course, you never had much need for luck.

“Ooh, so close.” Sukuna laughs into an effortless dodge, so agile that you can feel the air gliding underneath your palm for an irritatingly brief moment.

His voice is deep and so closely threaded with power the entire town practically shudders with the sound.

“I’ll get you next time.” You spit, gritting your teeth and preparing yourself for the next series of attacks.

Sukuna opens his hands wide, “You can have me anytime you want.”

Ever since you got called into battle, your opponent took it upon himself to flirt with you more than he fought with you. Even as you beat him to a pulp, he would persist. It was nothing short of maddening.

You glare at him, cursed energy coursing through you as you ready yourself once more, “Shut up already!”

“Hm,” He licks the ivory tip on one of his canines with a rough stroke of his tongue, as if savoring the threat, “Happy to have a pretty girl like you shut me up too.”

“I’ll shut you up for good, and you won’t like how I do it. Trust me.”

“Come on, sweetheart. You’re good, but good enough to beat me? Be honest with yourself-”

Before he can finish, the cursed spirit’s neck is in your hands and you’re relishing the way his pupils shrink in alarm at your successful grab. Despite his shock, Sukuna manages to minimize any possible damage by dragging you with him as his body is forced backwards from the impact of your ambush. The instinctive maneuver is enough to pull you into the wall with him.

Rubble from the area you and Sukuna crash into cascades around your fallen figures. The fear of injury stings through your body, and you only register it when you instinctively push out your arms to get yourself back on your feet.

“Not so fast.” Sukuna’s arms entangle you again, and you belatedly realize he had landed beside you.

He also rises to his feet more quickly than you can, pinning you to the chalky remains of the wall and sneering at your frantic clawing along the tops of his knuckles.

You hazily hear the gravelly reverberation of Sukuna’s laughter, and return to the rest of your senses, “Get the fuck off me!”

“Watch your temper.”

He keeps you in his grip with his four arms, and you continue to struggle in their collective grasp. The veins of his arms are tense and pronounced from the rest of his olive skin.

“...And your modesty.” He pinches the hem of your collar between a few fingers, the tease emphasized by the slide of fabric across your skin.

The heat that follows the motion enrages you.

Sukuna looks down at you with continued bemusement, and you follow his line of sight to find your shirt ripped open.

There’s a slight wrinkle in his nose that indents into the small black slash across it, and it’s caused by the smug expression on Sukuna’s face. His grin seems to have a cunning bite to it, and the corners perfectly complement the shape of his jaw.

As much as you hate to admit it, he has a nice smile. Nice enough to make your heart skip a beat.

Too bad you had to get rid of it.

Wrestling him to the ground, the impact leaves you breathless and a loud ringing enters your ears subsequent to you rolling yourself onto your back. You must have slammed your head, because you can feel the back of your scalp becoming sore.

Out of the corner of your eye, you notice your fellow sorcerers retreating and collecting the wounded. After your requested arrival, you had been exchanging violent maneuvers with Sukuna for what felt like hours.

In reality, you know that it probably hadn’t been any more than 10 minutes since you tackled the curse and began delivering blows with your curse abilities.

Everything is on fire.

You have to finish the job.

“Looks like you hurt yourself pretty good.” You hear through your blurring vision, “Can you keep going?”

What?

Part of you strains to hear, and the other half retains enough instinct to push away Sukuna’s broad shoulders as he approaches.

You’re still trying to land attacks as your consciousness fades and he catches each one, making you resist even more and inadvertently expend your remaining energy.

“Stop. You’re cute for trying but don't.” He snarls.

A nice, square blow to his cheek grants you some satisfaction as you finally lose consciousness.

_________________

When you wake up, dozens of local sorcerers and townspeople are flocked to your side and hurriedly checking your vitals from where you lay on the ground.

“How long was I out?”

“About a minute.” A villager answers, dusting the debris off of your clothes.

“It’s fine, I’m fine.” You brush them off, the pounding in your head matching the one in your chest.

Although dazed, you scan beyond the crowd for any trace of Sukuna.

“He’s gone, don’t worry.” Someone says.

Even so, you contine to look for him.

Though you’re not sure why.

_________________

In spite of your bewilderment, you continue to search for Sukuna throughout the days succeeding the fight.

However, he seems to be searching for you too.

As luck would have it, he finds you first.

_________________

You dunk your wounds in the warm water, trying to relax into the hot spring and let the steam clear your mind.

Thanks to a healing sorcerer named Shoko, most of your wounds were able to be skillfully closed up, but they seem to still ache as though they were fresh.

So, you had ventured into the woods to the secret hot spring you had found years ago. The countryside was littered with them, and this one was your favorite due to the privacy brought by the trees and the soothing temperature. You were convinced that it had some sort of healing properties due to the mineral content that clouded the water, but you didn’t expend too much thought on that theory.

No one else seems to know about it either, so you trust the serenity of your secret hiding place enough to rest your head on the rocks and drift off.

As sleep begins to kiss your eyelids, a nearby rustle has them snapping back. You freeze, not wanting any splashing to alert the possible intruder.

Breathing slowly, you scrutinize the area that appears to be the source of the noise. You feel your battle worn joints scream in protest, but your gut instinct tells you that you may have to prepare to defend yourself.

The shadows of the trees drag over a tall figure, and your eyes widen at the familiar outline.

“Oh shit.”

Your thoughts mirror the words delivered by that unmistakable voice ingrained in your recent memory.

It’s Sukuna.

He has a bruise trailing along his jawline, and you recognize the blooms of purple as your handiwork among the other scrapes and scars dotting his person. It seems most of them have healed less neatly than yours have. Sukuna takes a step forward, and you note that he has a limp in his gait. The robes he wears are clean however, ivory and slate gray in color, seemingly too pure for someone as malicious as him. He rotates his neck and shoulders, the movement of those broad muscles prompting the stretch and pull of his pecs. His eyes stay trained on yours, the color of autumn leaves burning into your wary hues. Even with his obvious injuries, his presence brings chills to your body. He still looks strong.

The sudden appearance has you ducking lower into the misty water with a not so subtle splash.

“Don’t look!”

You internally wince at your unplanned plea, expecting him to laugh or roll his eyes, but it only makes him pause.

The struggling rise and fall of your chest becomes ignored as you make out his face through the steam, which lacks emotion or mercy of any sort.

Then, he covers his eyes with a large hand draped over the bridge of his nose.

“Okay.” Sukuna says, the agreement is accommodating yet inflected with a nonchalance that forces you to blink hard.

Another silence falls over you both, and you place a hand on one of the stones bordering the pool. Tufts of grass poke between the coarse gray, and you can feel a few get caught under your knuckle white grip.

You can’t fight him like this, so you have half a mind to run.

The thought is interrupted when the curse speaks again, “Can I come in?”

The ask jolts you back into that perilous place between fight or flight, “No fucking way!”

“I’ll keep my eyes to myself, promise.”

No irony laces his speech, and true to his word, his eyes remain covered.

Before you can retort, he says again, “Besides, I don’t think either of us are in any condition to fight…you more so than me. Don’t you agree?”

His lips move beneath the curve of his hand, and you follow the shape of them with little interest. They’re split with a line of scabbed blood, and his hand has green bruising patched over the back of it.

He somehow looks worse than you do.

“I don’t think you’re in any condition to insult me either.”

“You’re right, I’m sorry.”

The water continues to rush over your body, and you feel it easing the tension within. Nature eroding every facet of pain into smooth relief.

It would be a first for you to share such consolation.

“Fine. But, don’t come near me. Or look.” You acquiesce, though just in case you assume a stance that resembles offense somewhat.

Honestly, you feel ridiculous.

Sukuna smiles widely, and then he continues walking until he senses the edge of the water by the heat on the bottoms of his feet. You briefly shield your own eyes when he disrobes, and he slips into the opposite side of the spring so gracefully you wonder if he’s secretly peeking through his fingers. His sheer mass displaces some of the liquid, and it hits your shoulders as he settles in.

Once he’s waist deep, and to your surprise, he turns away to rest his chin over crossed arms. His other two arms swim through the spring, feeling what little current there was running across his palms.

Feeling awkward, you do the same, but periodically look back to see if he wasn’t going to rip your heart out from behind.

His back is lined with deep grooves of strength and the dark marks tattooed onto his skin, water puddling over the dips and then spreading thin into glossy sheens as it evaporates.

Your throat wets with saliva at the magnificent view.

Every part of Sukuna seems perfectly sculpted to fight and conquer. A sadistic culmination of poetry in motion.

You examine your own figure wrought with power and evidence of your training. The same water decorating him was lapping at you too.

An even match, you think.

“You’re being awfully quiet, getting dirty thoughts about me already?”

The croon shifts your focus, and you whip around to flick water between his shoulder blades. The shot hits its target, though he hardly seems to register the miniscule shot.

What an annoying guy.

“Hey. Don’t make me come over there.”

“I’d like to see you try.” You roll your eyes and return your sights to the treeline when you sense movement behind you.

As soon as your peripheral picks up on Sukuna rushing towards you, you manage to lift your hands in time to catch Sukuna’s.

Large globs of water hang off of the thick elbows he hoists into the air, the liquid trickling down to his ribs and then rippling the surrounding water. His height is nothing short of monstrous as you glower at the smirking curse.

Moisture is also loosely braided into his petal hued hair, which glistens in the sunlight before fading into a dark, cropped shadow around his ears and above his neck. He looks…different up close and without the rigid aura of battle.

Your fingers interlock tightly together, no words easing the moment. Speaking seems impossible, and the prolonged clasp has you swallowing hard.

The stare Sukuna uses to capture your eyes is unreadable. Every secret you’ve ever held seems to be pulled nearer, threads sinking into the garnet depths like those fabled red strings of fate. However after scanning down your neck and then back up to your face, a satisfied glint emerges.

“That’s what I thought.” He tuts, as if disappointed, “You humans have no conviction. Pathetic little creatures.”

With that, he lets out a wolfish chuckle and releases you. The amusement fades in the air as he goes back to his previous seat, the broad shape of his back facing away from you once more.

The silence holds for a while, just the gurgle of water and occasional slosh from you or Sukuna cupping water over yourselves.

Only the damned curse behind you seems to like taking the lead in breaking each quiet stretch of time.

“So, you really gonna kill me?”

You sigh, running a hand over your cheek, “I hope so.”

“Don’t you want to get it over with? I’m right here.”

You chance another glance at him from over your shoulder, resting your temple on a fist.

Sukuna doesn’t move. You can’t see his face or imagine what kind of expression is laid across it.

All you see are the slashes you inflicted upon him, and the slightly pink scars beneath from past sorcerers who died in their attempts to rid the world of Sukuna’s terror once and for all.

As if he can feel where you’re gawking, he scratches the spot with a long black nail and lets out a discontent mumble.

Oddly enough, you find him both pitiful and loathsome. He won’t live for much longer, and surviving that final brawl certainly won’t leave you untouched. Once you take his life, you highly doubt that you’ll be able to keep yours for much longer after that.

There is an intimacy in knowing that you’ll die with someone. That you will be the last person each one will feel under each other’s hands and see as you draw the same, last breath.

Because of that, you find that you can’t look at him anymore.

“I don’t want it to be like this.” You finally admit, cutting the disdain from your voice and tapping the top of a stone.

The smile on his countenance is something you swear you can hear now, “We’ll keep this a secret then, yeah?”

“What secret?”

“This place, stupid.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Well, you’re acting like it. Now me? If I were you, I would’ve reached over and snapped my neck. Injuries be damned. I get it though, must be that so-called honor you humans adore indulging in. Can’t say it hasn’t infected me unfortunately, I didn’t really feel like finishing you off after you hit your head either. It would’ve been an empty victory. Pretty lame way to get out of it if I’m being honest.”

You tilt your head with a squint, searching for his eyes again and finding them as he drops his head back to send you a cheeky simper.

“Just saying.”

You tear away from him, sinking into the water before rising again to rearrange the soaked strands of your hair.

“I won’t kill you, yet.”

“Well then,” Sukuna preens, derision oozing into his cadence, “I’m looking forward to your next attempt.”

_________________

You and Sukuna begin to meet there consistently.

Just until you heal, you promise yourself.

It isn’t even as though every meeting is on purpose, he just so happens to be in the area when you are.

A wordless, regular cadence where you bathe and Sukuna does the same, except you stay back to back.

At first, you don’t break apart the silences by bringing up sorcerers or most other related circumstances, it just comes off much too taboo.

You also didn’t want to give him any advantages for future fights.

So, you talk about everything else.

What the clouds are shaped like, his philosophies on the world, your hometown.

Sukuna knew quite a lot, you suppose due to his years spent roaming the country.

It makes you more and more curious about how he came to be what he is. You try to not address it, but it gnaws at you. Dancing at the tip of your tongue.

He seems to feel the same way, being quite frank and open with his own questions and replies.

Despite your efforts, one day Sukuna offhandedly mentions that he was once a sorcerer.

Just like you.

_________________

“All you sorcerers are the same. You lie to yourselves and everyone around you.” He rolls a pebble between his fingers and occasionally tosses it in the air.

You can see it arc over the top of his head, plummet down and start again. Sukuna had begun this cycle as soon as you had said something he disagreed with, likely something banal and harmless like how helping the weak is what sorcerers do.

“You make so many baseless assumptions, do you ever get tired of jumping to conclusions so often?”

“Baseless?” The pebble falls and he swipes it into his hand, “Not at all. I used to be a sorcerer, so I can make all the fucking assumptions I would like.”

That piques your full interest.

You openly stare at him now, ignoring the pounding in your ears from such an arbitrary, shared confession.

“So why do you do it?”

“What?”

“Everything.”

He shrugs, and it’s all loose heaves of muscle in that small gesture.

“I want power.”

“For what?”

“Same reason anyone probably does. Isn’t that why you’re a sorcerer? For power to do with what you want?”

He crosses his arms behind his head, leaning to look at you as he rests back on the woven appendages.

The insinuation makes you press your lips together before speaking.

“Yes, but not like you. You kill innocent people, sorcerers and nonsorcerers alike, and you show complete disregard for them. It’s hateful.”

“I don’t hate them,” Sukuna meets your eyes, and you dutifully ignore the burning scarlet held within them, “They’re just in my way. Plus, innocence is subjective. Don’t act like sorcerers or humans you know haven’t thought the same. Done even worse.”

“Well, not on the mass scale you have.”

“Not that you know of.” He scoffs.

“Do you know? Since you used to be a sorcerer and seem to know every goddamn thing about it-”

“I know because I killed those sons of bitches years ago.” His hands fall back into the water, “Look, I’m no saint, we’ve established that. But is having strength so evil? Sorcerers and curses know what that answer is, we’re just waiting to see who will get out of the way first. After that, who knows what will happen. Whoever wins will decide what is considered right, and that’ll be it.”

Sukuna hums in thought, and then rolls his shoulders back with a grumble.

“Whether that includes heart or morals, who fucking cares. The definitions keep changing anyway.”

You scowl at his aloof attitude, “I like the kinder definitions.”

The rebuttal has Sukuna’s nose scrunching with revulsion, “No offense, but there’s hundreds completely different from it. Doesn’t matter.”

“It matters to me.”

The argument comes out like your heart bared between your teeth.

Sukuna is firm as he looks down his nose at you, “You aren’t the world.”

As if you expected him to say otherwise.

Even so, the snide point hits its mark, “I never said I was. I’m no saint either, but I like to think the world can be much more than you described.”

“It’s not. This is all we got.” He opens his hands wide, and the sun weaves through his fingers.

Flashes of verdant trees and distant villages scattered below snow capped mountain tops dance across the edges of his arms.

Unspeakable beauty that you swore to protect.

“It’s all you’ve got.”

You raise your chin, absorbing the outlines of the villages before whipping your head back to the grimacing curse.

“You’re right, we’re going to constantly be keeping the balance between sorcerers, humans, and curses. It’s precarious and annoying as all hell, but these are people’s lives. You may think they’re weak, but to know the world is terrible and yet choose to live among all of the curse related incidents and regular bullshit anyway is power. And what are you doing? Sure, what are some sorcerers doing? Preying on that bravery while hiding behind some preconceived notion of what power really is and what it should give them. You may try to twist your logic into justifying that humans are in the way or useless to the overall battle between stronger forces outside of their control, but my god is that not fucking exhausting and pointless as well? That’s great for you if you don’t mind it, but I do. Kill, don’t kill. If it truly doesn’t matter- If it’s all the same, why do any of it? Why choose to intentionally perpetuate more suffering if it’s going to happen without your help? You’re just- It’s fucking despicable, you know that?”

Anger burns the back of your throat and flushes your forehead with thin perspiration.

“Maybe,” You finally say, “Yes, we are the same. I’ve done awful, irreversible things. Killed when it wasn’t necessary, but I still try. I want to keep trying to be better for the people who deserve it. Like this village. Can you understand that?”

The water stills with a silence so palpable you can feel it pressing on your chest. The spray of steam relieves little tension with its hushed puffs into the solemn, thickened air.

You don’t say anything more, and eventually Sukuna leaves the hot spring.

_________________

He doesn’t return for days.

You don’t mind it.

In fact, you hope it stays that way.

You entertain the thought with a smile, ruffling the ends of your hair to shake the water out.

The amusement follows you as you walk through the forest back home, but then you hear a noise in the trees.

“Sukuna?”

As soon as you say the name, you cover your mouth as if you’ve just accidentally uttered a secret meant only for the dead to hear. Your shoulders tense up by your ears, and you stop in the middle of the forest floor. You wait, doing your best to listen past the chirp of birds and the overbearing rhythm in your chest.

The wind is the only answer you get, however, so you manage to relax until you hear a twig snap.

You jerk your head around, and that’s when the air rushes out of your chest.

Of course, it’s him.

It’s always him.

You’re beginning to toy with the idea that this forest is haunted by an emptiness, save for you two.

“Hi.”

Sukuna waves in a casual manner more adjacent to two friends who had unexpectedly run into each other at the market rather than a curse and the sorcerer tasked with hunting him.

“What?” You glare, crossing your arms over your chest.

“It’s very nice to see you too.”

That cheeky comment makes you roll your eyes, “Move or speak, I don’t care which one you choose.”

“You’re so scary, you know that?” He leans in close, showing all of his teeth and mimicking curling his fingers into claws around his jaw.

Another glare.

“Fine, fine.” Sukuna throws his hands up in exasperation, and then scratches the top of his head.

“Yes?”

The curse rolls his shoulders back, shifting his weight between his feet.

He seems…nervous. But that can’t be right.

The uncertain revelation is startled out of your mind by his next few words, “I was thinking about what you said. You were right.”

The words rush out in jilted succession, like he forced them to escape before he held them in for the rest of his days.

You can only stare at him, and his eyes seem stuck on yours. Like he’s searching for something akin to approval.

“A child was lost in the woods here yesterday. I came across it and…it asked if I was a bear.” He laughs at the memory, and the sound of it without any sort of mirth or irony was unnervingly pleasant and normal.

“Such a feisty little thing, calling me a rude beast and demanding a piggyback ride home to their mother. Since, according to the kid, she would be sad that they got eaten by an ugly bear. It reminded me of what you said. Humans do everything they can to live despite unfathomable conditions. It’s a power many curses lack-”

“What did you do with the child?”

You know of one local boy that matched that description, Megumi Fushigurou, all sass and adorable chubby cheeks with a penchant for berry picking in the forest until sundown and his mother feared he was lost.

“I carried it back to the village, the damn thing complained the whole way but we made it safe and sound.” Sukuna rubs the back of his neck with disdain hissing out from his canines, “Did I mention it’s a pretty convincing power?”

You swallow in epiphany, he wasn’t lying.

You had seen the little boy with his mother earlier in the day. The village hadn’t had any cases of missing residents or violent crimes for a while either.

You don’t know how Sukuna manages to read your face, but he steps forward close enough to make your breath hitch.

“I’m apologizing, if you couldn’t tell.” He rests a hand on top of your head, a heavy warmth that matches the sudden softness of his tone.

“I’m…trying. Just like you.”

The touch is brief due to Sukuna retracting it as soon as you register the weight of his palm. Your vision startles to the curse above you, and it becomes instantly captivated.

Every inhale is noticeable, the taut expanse of his chest rising and falling more delicately than you would have guessed for a murderer like him.

Sukuna’s lashes almost brush the structured perch of his cheeks when he looks at you, and you turn on your heel as soon as the sight breaches your field of vision.

Something about how unexpectedly pretty Sukuna is always causes your stomach to churn.

“Denial goes a long way.” You shrug, and the robe you donned earlier slips off one of your shoulders, “But, you’re welcome.”

You can feel Sukuna following the fall of fabric with his eyes, “Yes, thank you.”

“Thank you too…for listening, even though I was kind of mean.”

“You’re welcome, I needed to hear it.”

Before you can help it, you peer at him from over your exposed shoulder and fail to tug the corners of your lips down to neutralize your expression.

“Does this mean you’ll stop being a murdering, pillaging asshole?”

“Maybe.” He grins and opens his arms wide, “Will you?”

You’re punching him in a heartbeat, and he guffaws so loud and openly that your resolve drops in your stomach.

It’s uncertain whether it was only for a moment then, or completely.

_________________

Sorcerers are crowded around a table, pounding its surface and causing the paper maps strewn across to crinkle and fly.

The meeting had started almost two hours ago, and both you and the elder sitting at the head of the conference looked exhausted by the possibility of being there for another second.

“He’s been too quiet.” One says, staring at the inked out rivers and mountains surrounding the town.

“Thank her for that.” Another juts his thumb at you, and you lean forward to feign biting it off before he flinches his hand back into his lap.

“We haven’t gotten any attacks since you fought him.” He mumbles, and you sit up at that fact.

“Really?”

“Yeah, we have nothing to go on. Because you didn’t finish the job, he probably fucking left.”

You blankly stare at him, and he shies away in embarrassment after the elder speaks up.

“That’s not true. The surrounding villages haven’t had any incidents. He must still be here. Laying low.”

You process the statements and theories, your mind spinning.

Right. Laying low.

Nodding along to the shouts and conversations, you pretend to agree while imagining Sukuna’s laugh.

His eyes shut in contentment while his head is thrown back and his hands clutching at his stomach or chest, the sun filtering through his hair and skirting over the immaculate planes of his face.

You can picture it so well you could practically reach out and touch him. Memorizing his features had been part of your mission while hunting for him, but lately your mind was beginning to conjure so many more different images of him than before.

Not just how he looks, but how he smells and feels. The way water and the forest laps at the tattoos on his skin.

A calming, yet incredibly distinct combination of senses.

One you hope sparks more spite the next time the curse crosses your mind.

The knowledge that Sukuna’s death is your duty simmers your temper as the sorcerers around you bicker.

You don’t grasp any desire within you to have anyone else involved.

“Calm yourselves,” You shake your head, “He’s laying low, but no one can hide forever. I’m already tracking him.”

_________________

Time only continues to pass in that perfect, little bubble you and Sukuna have created for yourselves.

The entire experience is bringing you a puzzling agony you grow less and less tolerant of.

Physically, you heal quicker than expected, and Sukuna only continues to become bolder and bolder following his own healing.

“You seem upset today.”

“Not.” The answer leaves you as forcefully as the clumps of grass you’ve been pulling out of the ground while sitting on the edge of the hot spring.

Your feet agitatedly swirl in the water, and you flick another handful of blades off to the side.

“So you are.” He wades over to you, and you place a protective hand on the hem of your robe resting across your thigh.

The act only makes him grin, so you return your focus to the decimated plants under your other palm. However, you soon yelp in surprise when Sukuna dives head first into the water and then suddenly resurfaces between your knees.

He wraps his fingers around the curve of your thigh, “Need some relief? You being more of a brat than usual is really getting on my nerves.”

“I’m not mad. Just thinking.” You huff, sounding immensely angry.

Sukuna only seems to register the fact that you’re staying under his touch, and he sinks in his nails a bit. Not enough to draw blood, just to test the bounce of your skin and how the water transfers from his touch.

The warm water glosses over the plush of your legs, and to your horror, Sukuna bends down to observe the shifting luster more closely, the swell of his bottom lip drawing heat as it hovers near your core.

It suddenly feels too hot.

The hunger in his eyes isn’t lost on you when he tilts his head up. You didn’t know rose petals could bloom away from the earth, but the crimson of Sukuna’s eyes begs you to reconsider. Once he seems to have his fill of your shaky gaze, he ducks his head back to your lap.

“Normally, it’s kind of cute when you’re upset.” His thumbs rub circles all the way beneath your clothing and up to your hips.

The motion only ignites more fire in you, “But I’m getting concerned. The forest won’t survive if you keep tearing it up like that.”

A chuckle is imprinted in the kiss he presses to the top of your thigh, and you let out a gasp so close to a whispery soft whimper that you pray to the gods Sukuna didn’t hear it.

“I can help you feel better.” Rumbles of dark desire coat the purr of his throat as his lips tread inward, “You sound like you want to. Am I wrong?”

He heard.

Then, in one swift motion, he hoists your calves over his shoulders, and water is streaming off of his body and down the lines of his chin as his eyes meet yours.

Every drop racing down his figure incites petty jealousy in you. You want to touch him. Not in any familiar, destructive way you have previously. Gently and sinfully, with languid licks to the crevices of muscle gathering water. You want to feel his body twitch and contract, and how he groans at the rugged texture of your tongue. Your throat hollows in response to that epiphany, and then it becomes saturated with ill controlled saliva.

At that, you swing your legs off of him, and he catches you in the crook of one of his arms as you attempt to scramble to your feet.

“Get away from me!”

The hissed out words indicate otherwise, as neither of you escape from your holds on each other.

Sukuna’s hand is bracing your forearm, and he has others wrapped around one of your ankles, on the small of your back.

Every point of contact absolutely burns.

“You hate me, don’t you?”

The word hate seems to have a poison specifically sharpened for your conscience.

But the answer doesn’t come to mind.

You should know the answer.

It should be easy, laughably so, rather than something bitter choking your throat.

Where did it go? Where did it leave you?

“You still do.”

It’s not an accusation from him this time, more of a wounded statement.

Murky silence is the only companion to his words, and you offer no other to join them.

Once Sukuna’s grip loosens, you manage to steady yourself and leave.

_________________

The forest clearing greets you with the chirps of crickets and birds the next time you manage to drag yourself back.

Even the bubbling of the hot spring is lively, the steam coating the air and any bare skin you have exposed.

You wait beside it in your everyday attire, needing some semblance of a barrier between you and Sukuna if he ever chose to make his appearance. The loose fitting fabric was thicker than your bathing robes, but less rigid and formal than your sorcerer uniform.

You had spent some time over the passing days to toil over your last conversation with the curse. Sukuna’s question concerning the hatred you held for him being the major thought occupying your mind.

The answer was actually quite obvious, but you couldn’t bring yourself to say it any louder than the soft echo in your head yet.

Practicing it seems pathetic, but when you open your mouth to try Sukuna is striding towards you.

He has no humor in his face, all harsh corners and lines, but that entire demeanor vanishes upon seeing you stand and give him a hesitant wave in greeting.

“What’s this?” Sukuna approaches close enough to pinch the fine cloth gathered at your elbow, “You know I like what I see, you don’t have to cover up.”

The contact makes you flinch away, and a tortured look knits Sukuna’s eyebrows together.

He backs up, holding up his hands and covering up his expression with a half hearted smile.

You never thought your chest would ache at any hint of him being unhappy.

“Okay, okay. Tell you what. Kill me if you’d like.” He bargains, running a hand through his hair, “I know you hate me.”

That word again.

So much bite and emotion to it that it floods your chest with the fresh sting of tears.

“I can’t hate you!”

The outburst forces Sukuna back, and the impact seems to force his eyes wide open.

You swallow your next few words, rethink them, swallow again.

Finally, they crawl out of your chest, “At least, not anymore.”

Truthfully you had always been better with your fists than your words, and you had never wished for the opposite until now.

Sukuna seems to register your claim, but remains silent.

You think he’s going to say something, bracing yourself for it by sweeping your eyes to the tree tops and then to the pebbles speckling the ground.

Still, Sukuna is silent.

The air becomes colder, blades of grass and your shoulders trembling. A desperation deep seated within you blooms in one last attempt to escape this mortifying mess.

“Why aren’t you saying anything?”

A passive stretch of time is the only response you get.

Motherfucker.

As if your own shame and embarrassment wasn’t enough.

Lunging at him, your hands encase his neck with a strangled sound of utter frustration.

You have your full strength now.

You could kill him now.

Then, Sukuna places his hands over yours.

Instead of tensing, you relax completely.

He runs his thumbs over your knuckles, tempering the rage encased inside.

The sentiment in his eyes is far too soft for the murderous narrowing of your own.

It’s as infuriating as it is endearing.

You catch yourself wondering why you hold the power here, but it feels hopelessly lost when Sukuna holds you like this.

One of his hands travels across your arm, finding home in the cup of your cheek.

There it is again, his thumb stroking your skin like the shining facet of a jewel he can’t quite yet catch in the light. A breeze follows the placating touch, and you can’t tell which causes you to shiver.

He sighs, so defeated and low that you feel it mirrored in the tightness of your chest.

“If I say something…We’ll do something.”

The words ghost across his lips in the sweetest mumble you’ve ever heard.

You blink distractedly at the movement of his mouth, pink flesh moving over white teeth, “Do what?”

Saliva pools under your tongue, and you bite down on the swell of your bottom lip to suppress the gnawing appetite rising in your stomach.

His stare falters, his lashes fluttering down with peeks of ardent vermillion between, and then falls to the ground wordlessly.

You feel the comforting weight of it dissipate, and suddenly you’re weaker than before.

“Can you-” Your hands falter, lowering to grab at the collar of his clothing, the fabric clumping in your wobbly hands, “Just show me?”

Sukuna deftly reaches back, placing his hands along your hips and pulling you close.

You can sense fire pulsing under your skin as he continues in deliberate, measured fragments. His eyes never leave yours, all dilated pupils and honeyed warmth. He cups your lower back, the fabric beneath his palms shifting.

Gradually, he starts inching them up the sides of your waist. Squeezing and gripping portions of your curves with airy hums of thought.

You can’t breathe.

This silence is more purposeful than the last.

You both know what it implies, though Sukuna seems intent on making that knowledge undeniably transparent.

The kiss arrives as your eyes flutter shut, and Sukuna’s lips on yours taste like mutual devastation.

He tilts his head, the kiss deepening and unfurling butterflies in your stomach.

You lightly bite down on his bottom lip before swiping your tongue across the achingly soft surface, and he immediately grants you access with a low groan.

You don’t want to fight anymore. You want to surrender.

Curious hands roam along your body as the kiss deepens, stroking your cheek, the back of your neck and encircling your torso.

For someone so feared and strong, he possesses an astonishing gentleness that any prior replication of affection you’ve ever received now seems poor and revolting.

The tips of his fingertips skirt the hems of your clothing, and then they’re against bare skin. Soft tugs have your robes sliding down, and you gasp as the frigid temperature of air raises goosebumps over your skin. Chills kiss at your shoulder blades and up to the back of your neck.

Sukuna draws back, hooking his fingers into the fabric slung across his shoulder as he drags it over his head and reveals the familiar lines of muscle carved into his sides. The latter disappears into his pants, which reveals the tented mound between his legs. Despite the brief interruption, he presses you close to his chest the instant his top half is free from the restrictive material.

And he kisses you.

Kiss after kiss after kiss.

You occasionally flit your eyes open between locks of tongue and curse words stuck to the roof of your mouth, only to squeeze your eyes shut from enduring Sukuna firmly grabbing fistfuls of your hair.

His nails lightly graze your scalp, and he alternates between rough tugs and careful consolations down the back of your neck.

“I’ve never desired anyone or anything more than you.” He pants, and you wince at the desperate rasp of the declaration.

Your pussy is sapped with want, and your hips sway when he rests his hands past them.

“Fuck.” Sukuna sighs, fondling the soft mounds of your ass in his palms.

He spreads them apart, and a jolt of adrenaline shoots up your spine.

“You flinched.” He chuckles, biting your ear lobe.

The electricity in the point of his canine nicking your skin has you throwing your arms around his neck, and you hide in the nape of his neck with a whimper.

Sukuna acknowledges the sound by carefully holding up your wrists one by one and then rolling your sleeves up to your forearms to undress you. The abandoned robes petal around your ankles onto the forest floor, and Sukuna returns your arms to crossing behind his neck.

He tilts his head, his eyes simmering as they rake over your bare skin,” Well, look at you.”

Your elbows lock as your knees buckle, a sequence of motion vastly contrasting the vexed way you had gripped his neck only moments ago.

Sukuna catches you instinctively, hoisting your legs around his waist and clasping you to his front.

Your pussy drools at the flush of rigid heat pressed in the middle of your thighs, and you can hear Sukuna licking his lips as his hips support your weight, “Can you take it? I’m sure you can.”

The curve of his neck hides your face, but you know he can feel the warmth blooming on your cheeks when you stare down the scars of his back to see him tucking a thumb into his waistband.

The empty pocket between his skin and his pants only becomes more revealing, and you swallow as his entire frame soon becomes bare.

Sukuna keeps you settled close against his body, even when the cotton threads you sopped with your arousal get tugged away from you.

Then, you’re skin to skin.

You can sense his hardness before you even get a glimpse.

“F…fuck.”

The word is breathy and pained in your ear, and your own mouth falls open in a soundless gasp.

Every touch is scorching and placating at the same time, like every nerve in your body is perked and alert. So sensitive and ready that no point of contact goes unrecognized.

You want more. Need more. You can feel the ask escape your lips even as the thought fogs your mind.

The tops of your thighs are molded together by Sukuna’s heavy grip around them, and you use that to leverage your hips forward and back.

The bottom of your slit kisses the base of his cock as the length of it throbs against your stomach, and you slot your tongue into Sukuna’s mouth with reckless abandon.

“You-” Sukuna begins, swiping his tongue across your bottom lip, “Are so cute like this. All desperate and needy.”

“Shut up.” You reply simply, sucking at the corner of his mouth with continued fervor.

The meaningless command has him chuckling, but then the back of your neck is wrapped in his palm.

“Sure, I’ll shut you up.”

He deepens the kiss the next time his cupid’s bow meets your own, and your mind is so fuzzy you hardly register that Sukuna has carried you into the hot spring.

The humid heat of it rises along your waist, and Sukuna trails a few affectionate kisses along your jawline and down behind your ear before swiveling your hips to have you face away from him.

Droplets of water cascade down the slope of your back, and a wanton cry escapes your throat when Sukuna stripes them up to your shoulder blades with the point of his tongue.

You buck your hips back at the touch, whining when you feel his length behind you.

This seems to encourage him to explore your back with consideration, eventually lifting your hips and hissing out a strained sound of gratification when the tip of his cock prods at your entrance.

Strings of water and precum adorn the crown of his swollen cockhead, and you slightly wriggle your hips to get more of it inside.

“Put it in.” You demand softly, biting your lip as you attempt to peek over your shoulder and down your back.

Sukuna automatically brings your hips lower, and your eyelashes flutter as he gradually guides you onto his girth.

“Mhm- Yeah, put it in. More.” Your tongue unfurls, and Sukuna swears from the excitement in your voice.

“Oh fuck yes.” He lets out a gasp so full of primal wonder that it comes out as more of a growl, his eyelids flitting over his rolled up eyes.

The whites of his gaze belatedly return to those scarlet irises you adore, his mouth remaining slacked with a strained moan when he draws his hips back.

“Feels good?” You manage to pant, digging your nails into the back of his wrists.

“I love it. Thank you, the sweetest girl for me.”

The sting of his cock stretching open your walls is so addictive that the languid slides into your slick heat are audible.

“Thank you-mm. Fuck, thank you.”

Sukuna crouches to lick at the shell of your ear with a lengthy curl of his tongue, “Best pussy I’ve ever fucking felt.”

You spend some time drinking in each other’s moans, how your bodies fit together and the symphony of movement driving your shared pleasure.

Little time is spared by you for further speaking, and Sukuna quickly learns how to read your every flinch and wail.

He finds the perfect pace to bounce you up and down his cock, the aching preference you have for his tongue twisting around yours as you ride out your orgasms along the thick spine of his girth.

“Is this good?” He asks, full well knowing the answer, “Is this spot good?”

“You’re doing it wrong.” You huff, sarcasm punctuating the lie.

An immediate pause.

“Am I?” Sukuna grinds lazily against your sticky walls, “This isn’t the right way?”

Your mouth falls open, and you spread your legs wider as your insides wind snugly around his cock.

He plunges inside more slowly, nudging at your cheek with his nose, “Tell me how wrong it is.”

Utterly stuffed, no other argument escapes you.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” The curse smirks, but even the upturned corner of his mouth in your peripheral wobbles.

It’s incredibly adorable, but you have little time to dwell on it when Sukuna begins to slam into you faster.

You can sense him everywhere now, gripping your arms, his lips sucking soft spots onto your neck, and his hips grinding into yours until your mind is foggy and your screams turn coarse.

“God, your pussy just melts on my cock. Such a bratty cunt, but fuck - Think I like spoling you. Giving you what you need even when you can't ask for it.”

He draws out the curse, gunning into your cunt recklessly. You can feel the plush of your ass rippling against the constant pistoning of his hips.

“You feel that too? You feeling my dick? Good. Good.”

Every compliment hangs off of his tongue like he doesn’t want it to leave before he can get another quick and purposeful thrust in. Threads of thick saliva and precum knit your mutual bliss together, and you can feel his unruly cockhead rubbing creamy circles into the ceiling of your pussy.

“So wet.” Sukuna’s tongue clicks beside your ear while he continues fucking you up and down his lap in buzzing pulses.

He has an uncanny sense of when you’re close to the edge, as he’ll reel his hips back and only resume motion after your tightness minimally subsides.

The lack of release has you feeling entirely helpless, even though every time Sukuna is back to ramming your insides to near completion, you become so stupidly out of touch you forget the consequences and take it.

Every. Fucking. Time.

Not talking was a choice before, but now it’s an impossibility, only your cries punctuating the air with shamelessness.

Your pussy is runny and sloppy from the overflow of desperation. The loud squish of it is echoed by the excited hums of approval Sukuna allows to coat the back of your neck.

“Hey, I love you. You know that right?”

Sukuna bends your throat up higher, kissing and tonguing at the spots of it that he can access between his fingers.

“I love you. You’re mine.”

“You love me?” The question comes out garbled and pathetic, but it makes Sukuna kiss behind your earlobe with a tenderness you never thought could exist.

“I do. I love you. Just look at you.” He strains, one of his hands pressing down on your stomach.

“Oh God,” You observe the brutal penetration beneath you with awe, “What do I do?”

You don’t know why you’re asking, you just feel as though you have to ask him.

“What - do I -” The question is barely comprehensible with cries and ecstatic moans, but Sukuna answers you anyway.

“Take it. Take it all.”

The simple suggestion has your muscles clenching before you fully relax.

“That’s it. T-That’s it. Just like you’ve been doing-shit. Right there, yeah? I got it.” Sukuna pants, and when you crane your cheek back you catch a glimpse of the wild carnage in his glossy, dilated pupils.

It feeds your ego much more than it should.

“You’ve done it. You’re killing me.” He shudders, shoving you onto his cock with so much need that you can hardly tell one thrust from the next.

You gasp out as you clutch at the back of Sukuna’s neck, staring at him with widely blown out pupils and shaky breaths.

“Then, die for me.”

His lips are on yours before you can even finish the sentiment, as if he was eager to accept the total mercy of death as long as it was under your hand.

Sukuna’s hips continue gunning upwards into your flooded cunt, his tongue slotting into your mouth with whiny urgency and his arms tightening around your convulsing figure.

You feel like you’re bursting at the seams, cloudy and dumb with nothing but the heat of Sukuna’s body in your head.

You can feel yourself all over the fat, greedy rushes of his cock.

A warm and gushy mess saturated with praise and pleasure.

“Sukuna!”

The name leaves your mouth with an eruption of paradise springing from your sex, and Sukuna holds you as your body seizes with quivers.

He keeps you upright, doing those slow pumps that drove you crazy back when you were desperate to cum.

Now, they are soothing and filling. Sensual.

Sukuna lets you ride out your high until you’re loose and hoarse in his hold.

Feeling totally spent, you let him rearrange you against his frame and he gives the crown of your head a soft kiss once your cheek is leaning against his collarbone.

“Can I see?” He taps your lower back, voice rough and entreating.

You raise your head, and then provide him with a sleepy nod.

Sukuna pecks your forehead with a grin, and then effortlessly picks you up to rest your thighs over his shoulders.

“Oh wow.” He says, as if witnessing something so wondrous and rare that he can’t tear his gaze away from the sight.

The low exclamation makes you involuntarily squeeze and drip, creamy traces of Sukuna’s fluids oozing out with your own.

You can almost see the want spark in his eyes, deep maroon and curious.

He interlocks two of his hands behind your spine, using another hand to spread your lips apart and swallowing hard when your pussy seeps out more of your shared arousal.

The last of his hands reaches out to rub at your clit with the pad of a finger, and Sukuna licks his lips when you wind your hips down to meet his finger faster.

He looks up at you, a wordless ask, and you answer by tugging his head toward your core.

Sukuna reacts with a muffled grunt, lolling out his tongue and loudly lapping up your juices the second his tongue gets a taste of you.

You squirm in his hold, “Oh god, Sukuna!”

He pinches your slippery nub between his fingers, poking his tongue into the bottom of your leaking slit and then scooping his tongue upwards through the seams.

His taste buds sweep against the grip of your walls, and harsh breaths line your throat as he selfishly explores every inch of your pussy that he already laid to waste with his cock.

“Finish one more time for me.” He rapidly murmurs, his nails digging into your thighs.

“I d-don’t think I can!” You squeak, afraid that the knot in your stomach will snap much more intensely than the first time.

Sukuna seems to take that as a challenge.

He’s undeniable, scorching your flesh with determination and ardent gulps. The tip and flat of his tongue aggressively writhe inside and squelch along your wetness. It’s nearly unbelievable how turned on you are from seeing one of the most powerful curses in the world buried in your cunt.

Your center only becomes more and more taut, which forces Sukuna to act even more starved. The point of Sukuna’s nose bumps against your engorged nub, and he spends such a dedicated amount of time outlining your most sensitive spots with his tongue that your eyes roll into black.

He latches his mouth around your sore bud, flicking and swirling his tongue around it until you mewl his name over and over again.

Liquid bliss coats his tongue, and you can vaguely feel the tired smirk when he makes you cum in his mouth one last time.

Exhaustion sets in hard for you as well, and Sukuna catches you in his arms to return you to his lap.

Once you’re settled again, Sukuna grants you another passionate kiss on the lips. Tasting yourself on his tongue has you wanting more of him, but the heavy drag of your eyelids dissuades you from asking for more.

Although you know now that he would do anything for you.

“I was always looking for you.” You breathe, the authenticity of your admission lighting up Sukuna’s visage.

He is so beautiful like that, eyes glistening with obvious affection and a weary beam. The blossom shade of his hair is damp and raked back, and the olive of his skin is covered with streams of water from the hot spring. A light sheen of sweat also adorns the nape of his neck and biceps, and you can start to see the extensive sanguine marks you raked over his toned body. One traverses from the dark, buzzed undercut behind his ear to the top of the black design on his shoulder.

You weakly raise a hand to relieve the broken skin there, but Sukuna catches your hand in his.

He moves stray strands of hair from around your eyes, pressing his lips wherever he can under your eyes and across your cheeks.

“Thank you for always letting me find you.”

Sleep comes to you remarkably easy after that.

_________________

Morning sun skims the dips of your face once you wake up.

You squint your eyes, wondering why you no longer smell the earthiness of the forest.

“Good morning.”

The drowsy greeting catches your attention instantly, and you sit up to find yourself in your own bed.

“How-?”

You turn and nearly collide your nose with his chest.

“Easy.” He encircles your shoulders, comfortingly enveloping you in a warm embrace, “First, say good morning back.”

You relax, tentatively reaching up to return the hug, “Good morning.”

Somehow, you can sense the charmed smile spreading across his face, even as he rests his chin atop your head.

He deeply inhales, his large hands moving along your back as you breathe alongside him.

“Better?” Sukuna prompts after a brief passage of time.

“So much better.”

His smile widens, “Good.”

“How did we get here?” You yawn, peering over his shoulder at the scattered sunlight in your bedroom.

“I carried you.”

You reel back to gape at him with a dubious raise of your brow, “You know where I live?”

“I followed you home once.” He states matter-of-factly.

Clear offense sprawls across your facial features, “No, you didn’t. I would have sensed you.”

“Not when you were all pouty and angry with me. It was cute seeing you stomp into your house.”

“Uh huh.” You somewhat acquiesce.

Sukuna’s solid frame shakes with a hearty laugh before he addresses you with a more remorseful tone, “I just had to make sure you got home safely. You’re perfectly capable alone, but you didn’t seem to be in your right mind...I’m sorry, I swear I left as soon as you went in.”

He runs his fingers through your hair as you listen, but all you can think about is how difficult it is to have any lasting anger towards him.

Forgiveness punctuates your subsequent sigh, a drawn out and desolate sound, “I don’t know what to do now. With all the hatred I had for you.”

“For me it’s the same passion, only the direction has changed.” Sukuna softens your shoulder with a delicate kiss.

You reach up to cradle his jaw in the heel of your palm, lightly scratching his hair with your other hand, “What are we going to do?”

“What would you like for us to do?”

“I want to kill you.” You admit honestly, but with no malice.

Sukuna shrugs with a smitten beam, “You’re the only one who could.”

You smack his bicep, “Sukuna I’m serious! What are we going to do?”

The curse shrugs again, cracking his neck to one side, “We can stage our deaths and run away I suppose. Build a home in the mountains and live there until we’re old and gray. Or, we can live from place to place, see everything there is to see. You’re smarter than me, so whatever you decide. I just don’t want to fight anymore, now that I have you to take care of.”

He twirls a piece of your hair around his finger, watching the light shift in your eyes as you take in the candid suggestions.

“What do you think of that, sweetheart?”

Appreciation floods your chest, “I like those ideas, actually.”

The corners of his eyes crescent with amusement, and then he lets out a thoughtful hum as he draws random shapes into your cheek.

“There will be time for all of that later though. For now, what do you want to do?”

You pause to think over his question, and then resolve to snuggle back into his embrace.

“I want to stay right here. Just like this.”

Sukuna lightly strokes the back of your scalp and then kisses your temple with a content sigh, his lips moving reverently over the skin there.

“How did I get so lucky?”

_________________

End Notes:

hahahaha. i liked this. it just kept getting longer and longer so i just gave in😩😩 it's p much a multichapter fic lowkey LOL but thanks again for requesting! really enjoyed writing this one :)💖💞

ps. i'd like to talk about this one a bit more so if anyone wants to comment or send an ask about it i will reply in-depth!!💝 tyyy<3

2K notes · View notes

ghouljams · 2 months

Note

In honor of the holiday dearest to tumblr, the ides of March, can King! König get another attempt on his life? Poor guy is probably bored

Oh my god of course, how silly of me to neglect him like this. Have a couple assassination attempts.

You wake up before König does, a light sleeper by practice not by nature. You yank yourself out of his firm gasp to sit up at the first odd noise, and you think that's what rouses him more than anything else. More than the knife poised over him, or the shadow clad assassin that hovers beside the bed. You stare at them as your king blearily pushes himself into wakefulness. Just enough to grab the assassin's wrist and jerk it to the side with a sickening snap.

The knife falls with a pained whimper, grabbed tight by König and flipped clumsily in his tired hand to be forced into the side of the assassin's neck. König yanks the knife free of its ghastly lodgings and blood spurts over his hand. The assassin pitifully grasping at the wound as he collapses back, crimson painting every direction he turns. König tosses the knife into his chest, it sticks with a solid thunk, as the man writhes.

You're gathered back into your king's arms with a tired grumble, and dragged down to the mattress. König is wet with blood, the drip of it smearing the pillow as you shudder at the slick gurgling coming from the side of the bed. König seems unbothered, his breathing even and regular, his hands gripping you with the same possessive tightness he had before your sleep was interrupted. Your heart hammers in your chest. You don't sleep.

König pauses what he was saying, staring down at his cup with rapt attention. You sip your own wine with a raised brow. His eyes grow darker, hungrier, the longer he stares. Redder, you think, he gets this glow to his eyes, murderous and blood tinged, when he's particularly excited. You glance at the servants in the room, all of them standing at rigid attention. He's already standing when your eyes grace him again. You settle your cup on the table and blink at the discolored metal. Ah.

You fish through your pockets for your charcoal, and eye the unfortunate soul still holding the wine pitcher. Actually as far as poisons go, you're finding this one rather mild. You lick the last drops of wine off your lips and decide on another sip. It can't do any more damage than it's already doing, and focusing on this is easier than focusing on the awful crunch of bone against bone.

Your stomach turns, you're unsure if it's the arsenic or the knowledge that König has no sword on him, and yet you can still hear the visceral squelch of blood. You hazard a peak in his direction and catch the raise of his fist, blood dripping from his knuckles into the concave remains of the wine-bearer's face. König, for all his frenzied glee, has a stillness about him that unnerves you. His body poised to put all its power into every beat of his fist against the bloodied pulp he's already reduced the would-be assassin to.

You raise a hand for König's aid and he's beside you without fanfare. You swallow and settle your cup on the table, breaking off charcoal from the stick you carry. "Would you find out who else touched the wine?" You ask, polite and collected to hide the way your bones are starting to shake, "and order some vervain in hot water." The man bows and disappears as quickly as he'd shown himself.

You chew your dose of charcoal, force yourself to swallow the sludge before you turn your attention to the king. His heaving shoulders and blood splattered clothes prickle like ice over your skin, exciting and terrifying in the same breath. You wonder sometimes if these attempts on his life aren't without good reason.

You don't know why the fuck you're here, except that König asked you to be and you didn't have an excuse quick enough. The kingdom is airing their grievances, mostly the general populace complaining about uneven roads, crops dying, taxes still being too high. There's always too much that König would have no hope of solving, but through divine right has to listen to. You're only here to ask about moving your perennials to a different bed. You didn't think you'd have to go through such a demeaning process just to do something you were going to do anyway.

You think König gets a kick out of seeing you bow in front of other people.

Not that you get a chance to. The relatively tedious and boring display interrupted by the flash of knives and the death grunts of several guards. The instant panic that the collapse of the king's protectors sends through the crowd leads to a stampede towards the chamber doors. It's the sort of atmosphere you know König relishes, pulling a sword from the guard nearest him and thrusting it through the nearest assassin's middle. He rips the sword skyward, stopped only by the man's sternum. Though you suspect even that wouldn't have stopped König if another hadn't lunged for him.

You're pushed by the crowd, but you hardly feel it, too focused on the draw of König's sword through the air, the way it slices through a man's neck and turns to pierce his chest. There is a madness to the way König moves, nothing short of joy spreading through him as he turns and brings the sword down hard between another man's eyes. Three lives ripped away without a scratch on him.

He holds his sword as his side, rolls his shoulders as he eyes the last assassin, baiting the man into action. You watch, with your breath held, as the man darts forward and plunges his knife into the meat of König's stomach. Your heart hammers against your ribs, anxiety twisting your stomach as König drops his sword.

Two big hands fix themselves on either side of the man's head, and twist sharply to one side. You may be the only person in the room to head the snap of it, to see the jolt of death's motion through the body before it goes limp, held aloft only by the king's hands. Your breath catches in your throat as König tosses him to the side and tugs the knife from his stomach.

It's hard to tell which red is from the blood, and which is from his usual clothes. You don't try to identify either one, frozen where you stand as König turns and walks out of the room. People file past you, still pushing and shoving in a panic. A servant grips your arm, your eyes still fixed on the throne.

"The king is asking for you," they tell you.

"Right-" You mutter, before you can shake yourself awake, "right, yes, of course." You swallow, pull your wits about you, and offer them a smile. "Lead the way."

There are many reasons you cannot be queen, a lack of affection for the king isn't one of them.

#cod x reader #x reader #x oc #cod x oc #könig x reader #könig cod #könig mw2 #könig call of duty #call of duty #konig x reader #oc: liebling #king!König #medieval au #tw violence #tw murder #let the man be an animal

272 notes · View notes

justblades · 11 months

Text

⌕ LUSTFUL REQUIEM, 18+

⟢ yandere! blade x afab! reader wc : 1.7k

⟢ cw : fxck buddy! blade, dubcon, cervix kissing, degradation, toxic themes, filming, choking, somnophilia

❝ you're merely a canvas, and his longings are stains— to etch on your skin that you are none other than blade's. ❞

blade is not one to typically fall for eye candies as if it was a part of his everyday routines, no one piques his attention nor does the male has his eyes set on a person. it was not until long once he gets a taste of flavors of lust: commixing together, making a concoction he would never forget, that one day, he decided to yearn for more.

every beginnings are sweet nothings that eventually become bitterly endings - one could draw that conclusion as scenes continue to unfold, blade's grasp on your wrists tightening as he bucks his hips upwards, thrusting into your slit with little to no difficulties.

adorned by your melting features are the weak sighs you let out everytime he slips his cock into you, sweat and drool racing down your dewed skin. "louder." his voice was flat and stern, an intonation that pierces through your wary self. you part your lips wider so more natural moans come out just as the male orders you to, a smirk of satisfaction following suit once his wish is finally fulfilled.

"were you moaning this loud for that asshole earlier?" another question rises from blade's dry throat, dehumanizing queries coming out one by one the longer the session prolonged. you shook your head vigorously and shut your eyes, but blade bucks his hips with more force now, his cock's tip eventually meeting with your cervix. "don't give me that nodding and shaking your head, i only take words for an answer."

his brows tightly knit, frustration seethes out of his gritted teeth. "answer!"

uncertainty fills your heart to the brim as you slowly take a trip down the memory lane, recollecting the events that unraveled earlier that lead to this now-present, once future.

crimson hues seep out of the man's wounds, several of his teeth had fallen out already - his body failed to keep himself stable and the navy haired across him doesn't falter. he only continues. "i can do this all night." blade says with utmost confidence lacing his words, the bandages of his hand come undone, revealing such deep wounds that seemed to have never recover.

ah. you understand a part of blade's destructive behavior now. the reason he's like this was because you slept with another man behind him— "fucking slut. how could you do that to me?" he lets go of your wrists for a short moment, only for them to land back on the silhouette of your waist, cupping the margins to make your body shudder the deeper he pushes in- "come on. rock your hips like how you did as you fucked that loser."

it was only a connection solely established to cope with ephemeral temptations. shortlived feelings yet the hardest to resist is what describes lust best, especially for two beings who feed on nothing but these urges. it was a mutual bond, a shared understanding to not be cuffed by the confinements of this relationship, but blade crossed that fine line like it was a a puny boundary for him.

you should've known from the beginning. you should've been able to discern from the way his glassy eyes scrutinize your appearance everytime he realizes you just got back from the hands of another man. you should've been able to know from the way the words roll out of his tongue when he speaks out of frustration, no rational thoughts behind those lashed out actions.

amidst of all of that - it feels good to be filled to the brim by your fuck buddy's dick. regardless of how he beat the guy you were with into a pulp with no hopes of recovering, here you are, basking in the pleasures intercourse with blade had to offer. it felt gratifying, but it's also heavily contradicting.

the same hands he use to inflict wounds on people who got close to you are the same hands now gradually becoming tender in his touches as he pounds into your velvet walls - blade picks up this little detail, a sneering smile replaces his scowl in an instant. "are you feeling good now?" he leans to your face, the tall bridge of his nose few inches away from yours.

your eyes burn in crystalline reflections, perfectly reflecting blade's image as he presses his lips onto yours, tongues next in action, twisting and twirling altogether— fighting for dominance. "h. . hmm." you hum as a response, much to blade's delight. he quickly breaks it off however, a hoarse chuckle slips out next.

"i've become so whipped for you," blade muses, catching you off guard. he bats his long lashes as he trails your facial features up and down. "i can't bear the thought of anyone else fucking you like this." his dominant hand at present cups your cheek, the thumb finger drawing viscules on the dampened skin. blood rushes into your cheeks as you mewl at how his grip once more tenses, "at last, i can call you mine now." his smile felt rather eerie that you could only return a mere "huh?"

he shifts his gaze elsewhere, a coy smile replaces the eerie one in a blink. "i can't believe my fantasies are finally coming to real life." a crease between your brows forms but the male has your body flipped in 20 machs speed, your back now lays flat on the matress while his cock is nestled in between your lower lips, he rocks his hips forward to make friction, another string of mewl escaping past your mouth.

"but . . but didn't we agree there's no strings attached in this?" the atmosphere grows suffocating, blade's looming presence tripled, leaving no room for you to breathe. a click of tongue then chimes into your ears, "those agreements hold no meaning any longer. i've fallen for you . . and you have too. right?" the airway from your throat proceeds to become scuffed as his two hands wrap around the part, "b-blade i can't b—!"

he reinserts his cock back into your entrance and your cunt gladly accepts his intrusion, clamping around his shape as he continually molds your insides. "say you're mine. say only i have the privilege of relishing you like this."

'blade has gone insane', is what you thought upon hearing those bizarre words of choice. you're starting to fear for your life underneath the contrasting touches of your sexual partner, you had no choice but to fall prey to his temptations. his navy dipped scarlet strands tumble on his shoulders in every thrusts he does, he sports a look you've never seen before: a predatory gaze as he watches your lust ridden body, "i-i'm yours. . i'm all y-yours!" you yelp.

you could only hope he gives you a slack, even just a minute would be nice to indulge without him bombarding you with insults and offensive questions. "finally." he rejoices with another arrogant smile, solferino irises turning inwards at the halfhearted sentence that rang to his ears like sweet tones.

"ride me again." for the nth time, he commands you once more. you could feel all the fatigue gnawing at your bones, unable to register how much energy the mental state can drain oneself. blade sees you struggle and he helps you get into position with the help of his fists on your feet, "no, turn the other way around."

your back faces him while your hands are propped on his sculpted, bandaged thighs. this position out of the dozen ones you've already tried with blade strikes you as the most embarrassing one. your legs continue to tremble as you try to keep yourself up, but only now a late realization dawns in your mind as you get a clear sight of what's placed in front of the cabinet across the bed: a cellphone camera accurately leveled to catch both your bodies in one frame.

"hah, you just saw that now?" he pants as he reinserts his dick back into your entrance, your pussy spasms from being ravaged by his cock. "it'll be for our eyes only. i can never share such intimate moment with others, they're simply undeserving."

you wished that reassurance could've ceased your worries, but it didn't.

"this video will be our proof of love and my proof of property of you. this day marks my ownership of you." he murmurs, his deep voice meshes with the squelching sounds emitted from his cock kissing your pussy, and the jagged breathy mewls. "i'm so delighted all of my hardwork paid off, mmh. . ." low moans continue to bubble from his throat, his fingers sinking deep to your body.

"i don't want to share you anymore."

"those days are long over."

"hmph, are you listening?"

blade ascends from his position only to see your passed out state - he cracks a hoarse chuckle afterwards, seeing your frail figure right in the solace of his arms.

"this is fine. i can still worship your body regardless of your consciousness." he murmurs to himself, readjusting your position laid back again in the soft cushions. he coils his hands around his dick, tightening his grip to merit himself waves of pleasure. "ah, haah, i feel so good." blade's guttural moans bounce off the room's four walls, the male then swiftly rubs his tip on your entrance, and with little force, it slips back in. "i'm happy. i . . i know you are too."

all blade is a filth of sorrow, regrets and sadness. growing up, he never understood the charm of owning something. he'd always watch by the windowsill, a blank expression carved on his face, seeing children around his age gleefully claim what's theirs. perhaps . . his upbringing was molded that way for today. for today, he finally owns something now. something that fills the cup of his heart to the point that it's overflowing - something that could satisfy his perpetual yearning.

it is no doubt he'll never let go of you now— at present, you're nothing but a bird inside of a rotten cage. you're merely a canvas, and his longings are stains— to etch on your skin that you are none other than blade's.

that you're merely a timeless fodder for his everlasting hunger: a hunger to own and a hunger to love. at long last, he finally has one.

"i really love you."

A/N : the upbringing part is just my own and obviously not canon, it's more to expound on how he became a yandere for reader ^^ my masterlist !

#blade x reader #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail blade #blade x reader smut #hsr x reader smut #honkai star rail smut #honkai star rail x reader smut #hsr blade

945 notes · View notes

holylulusworld · 28 days

Text

April Fools' Day

Summary: Steve and Bucky ask you to join their prank.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader x Steve Rogers

Warnings: language, pranks, tricks, fluff, implied smut

“Doll, wait!” Bucky runs after you; he grasps your wrist to stop you from leaving the Avengers Tower. “Wait. Steve and I need your help.”

“Bucky, I’m about to get some coffee. I don’t have time for your pranks,” you give him a stern look. Every year on April Fool’s Day Steve and Bucky turn into annoying little shits. They love to prank the team and everyone crossing their path. “If you try to mess with me again, I’ll cut your hair off and dye Steve’s hair green.”

“We won’t prank you,” Bucky smirks, remembering how you ran out of your room at the tower. Your skin and hair were covered in green goo. “I swear.” He crosses his heart. “Please, for me.”

“Fine,” you size Bucky up. “Just you know — super-soldier or not. If you mess with me today, I’ll beat you into a pulp and make it look like an accident. After you pranked all of our friends for years, no one will ask questions.”

“No pranks, doll,” he takes your hand and presses a soft kiss on your knuckles. “Please help us here.”

“Okay, spill it, Rogers,” you huff and cross your arms over your chest. Steve grins like the devil when he reveals his plan for this year’s April Fools’ Day. “I don’t have all day. Bucky already ruined my break.”

“You will love it,” Steve smirks and steps closer to you. He places both hands on your shoulders, making you shudder. They don’t know what effect they have on you. “Bucky and I decided to tell the team that we will ask you out on a date.”

“What? I—what?” You wrinkle your forehead. “How’s that a prank? We had lunch and dinner together more than I can count. We even have movie nights at your place or Bucky's. Though, Bucky has better snacks.”

“Hah, I knew it,” Bucky grins.

“Doll, we will tell them that we are dating,” Steve snickers. “You know how often they teased us for being inseparable, and that we do more than watch movies together. Bucky and I decided to trick the team and tell them they were right the whole time.”

“Steve, that’s a stupid prank. Maybe you can just put itching powder in their pants or something,” you try not to be part of their prank. “And how do you want to pretend that we are dating?”

“We will take you out for dinner, doll,” Bucky explains. He points at the suits lying on Steve’s couch. “We got the suits, and you can wear a dress. Steve booked a table at that little Italian restaurant you like so much. We will go back to the tower and pretend we are having sex.”

“Uh-Bucky got some porn on his phone,” Steve admits cheeks shades of pink. “We will pump up the volume and everyone passing my room will believe we are…”

“Nailing our best friend,” Bucky ends his friend’s line. He grins and claps his hands. “That’s a good plan. Right?”

You don’t know what to say. “Guys, that’s…”

“The best prank ever!” Steve exclaims.

“The next morning, when everyone tries to hide they heard us,” Bucky smirks. “Bam, we reveal nothing happened and call them pervs!”

They grin like cocky boys, not the super-soldiers saving the world all the time. You sigh. This is the worst idea ever and you’d love to tell them the truth. But a free meal is a free meal.

“Sounds good to me. You’ll pay.” You point your index finger at Steve. “No excuses. And I want dessert too.”

“Doll—wow!” Bucky and Steve swallow thickly when you step out of your room. You’re wearing a stunning dress and heels. Usually, you’re in your tactical suit or comfortable clothes. They never saw you wearing anything like the dress before.

“You look dashing too,” you wink at them. “Ready?”

“Yeah…uh…sure…” Steve offers his arm to you, earning an angry look from Bucky. “We are ready to go, Y/N.”

“What Steve said,” Bucky places his hand on the small of your back. “You look beautiful tonight, doll.”

Natasha smirks as both men fight over you. Before you go you tell them to stop fighting and find an agreement. You end up with Steve holding your right hand while Bucky holds your left hand.

“I guess she set her plan into motion,” Sam grins at Natasha. “Damn, she was right about their prank.”

“Poor super-soldiers,” Natasha snickers. “They have no clue what they got themselves into. Y/N knew about their plans and turned the tables. She finally got them to ask her on a date.”

“Do you think they will finally admit their feelings?”

“Sam, did you see the dress? Y/N got them wrapped around her pinky by the end of the night and I’m fairly sure, we will need noise-reducing headphones from now on…”

Natasha was right. The moment you came back from dinner and entered Steve’s room, they were all over you. Bucky didn’t need his phone. You made the most erotic noises they ever heard…

Tags in reblog.

#steve rogers #bucky barnes #April Fools' Day #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #steve x reader x bucky #steve rogers x you #bucky barnes x you

249 notes · View notes

lirational · 17 days

Text

Bait

Eldritch AU Path to Nowhere inspired by this image.

Monster!Shalom x Reader

Warnings: Dark content, dubious consent, general monsterfuckery, implied breeding, questionable anatomy, questionable science ethics or honestly ethics in general. DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT

SMUT UNDER THE CUT, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

—

“It seems that they take a particular enjoyment to observing both of us.”

A statement, not a question. You were used to observing beings that are not of this world, captured by unknown means and now kept here to minimize their danger to the world at large. Monsters. You hesitate to call them that, as the term implies they were driven by familiar, animalistic instincts much like creatures of this world, while they seem to operate less on instinct and more on an unfathomable logic that you, and most human beings, lack the capacity to comprehend, a phenomenon which you and everyone here would witness whenever any of them deigned to entertain themselves with your reactions.

Perhaps, you should count yourself lucky that even after the higher ups captured them and shoved them in this facility designed as a cage, most of them were willing to adapt to parameters acceptable to humans. You’ve seen the ease of which some of them ruin lives when agitated, remembering that hapless scientist who tried to debate S-087 about the true nature of the universe and ended up being a little less, ah, comprehensible after she witnessed a glimpse of something not meant to be seen. You shudder, lost in the thought of the fate of your colleague after that ordeal instead of entertaining the monster in front of you with a response—

A cold feeling interrupted your thoughts, slender fingers wrapping on your wrist as the monster directed your hand to touch her cheek. She was now only centimeters away from your face, her fingers playing with your hand as she asked, “Your thoughts seem to be wandering away. What is it in your expression, ah, penny for your thoughts?”

She paused, letting her words sink in. In that brief moment, the triangular symbol in her eye seemed to flicker and flash.

“I cannot say I like being treated as if I’m not present.”

“S-017, I only wanted to record more information about that World of Mania you mentioned. Your thoughts about the research procedure is irrelevant,” you answer, the fake detachment all too evident to you. A part of you dislike treating her in such a cold manner, but this was one of the most basic things they drilled in your training manual. They are not people, there is no need to treat them as such, and don’t show your fear to them, for they might - and on occassions, have - take advantage of it.

“It’s Shalom,” she responded, her smile unfading, face close enough you could feel the warmth of her breathing. You have been warned about this, read the case files about how Sha— S-017 presents a veneer of perfection in each of her movements, and only when you pay very close attention you can see traces of her inhumanity. Every single part of her seems to be sculpted without flaw, from her porcelain skin to her doctored expressions, down to the vivid shade of maroon hair that faded into white as they tickled your skin and pooled on your lap from your proximity. Some of your colleagues have theorized that her perfection was meant to lull, to decrease one’s wariness towards her and lure people’s eyes from her less human traits. About the only part of her that gives away her true nature was the triangle in her right eye, but you suspect that if she didn’t want to show that part of her, you won’t even know it was there. “Perhaps it is irrelevant to the scheduled questioning we’re having right now, but I’m sure you are familiar with scientific curiosity.”

In that moment, your senses tinged a little as cold, vivid blue invaded the edges of your vision. A warning? Even if Shalom didn’t mean it as that, you’d rather not push it into a situation where being smashed into bloody pulp is the least undesirable fate. Many of your colleagues have theorized that the creatures held here merely stayed because the facility provided a measure of entertainment or possess something they want, and if any of them has a shred of determination to escape, the facility would be gone without a trace in the time it took for you to blink.

“I’m sorry, Shalom, may I ask you to elaborate about the World of Mania you mentioned in our last session?” You indulged her.

“Mhm, that’s more like it,” she hummed, clearly pleased. “Sure, I don’t mind, maybe I’ll tell you later.”

In your overstuffed armchair, you could feel something slither onto you, her stare anchoring you in place as the foreign tendril slides up your leg. More joined to trace your arms, and you glance at the camera stationed nearby, wordlessly pleading for the scientist watching the whole thing to get up and get help. It didn’t take long for Shalom to use another of her tendrils as a lithe finger to tilt your chin back to her, drowning you into her unmoving stare, “I will tell you, but in exchange…” she let her words sink in for a moment, “Won’t you entertain me?”

There was no need to be a, well, rocket scientist to understand what she was getting at. Her words carried a certain cadence to it, and you squirm in response, your head turning to look at the camera to scream for help, the monster’s feelings be damned. However, she was faster, one tendril rubbing circles on your clothed clit, the other teasing your lips, before holding down your tongue to render your plea ineffective. For a moment, blue flooded your vision, and when it subsided, the space around you has been warped, the door out of this room buried behind layers and layers of walls as the space itself warped to form a dark, foreboding maze. Did they not see what happened to you? Did they decide to dispose of you as punishment for something you weren’t aware of—?

“Again, what is bothering you? Ah, let me guess, are you bothered by the eyes trained on us?”

“S-017, I’m not here to, in your words, entertain you. You’re crossing and breaking several— ah, facility rules we are both bound with,” your voice was shaking, the authority and distance you tried to imbue into it fading as you gulp at the feeling of another tendril slipping past the band of your undergarments to play at your shamefully wet core. Your back was pressed to the stuffed chair, your movements limited as the tendrils around your limbs started to tighten, not enough to hurt, but enough to disallow you from moving even an inch without her permission.

From your files, S-017 seemed to be the rational sort, and you hoped the appeal to her rationality would allow you to escape this horrifying predicament. Even as your body started to ache and quiver with need from Shalom’s teasing touches, you still have enough of a mind to remember that both of you are being watched and recorded. At least, you would buy another few precious seconds for the security squad to come barging in, hopefully distracting her—

“Frankly, your rules hold no relevance to me,” Shalom answered, mismatched eyes glancing at the direction of what seemed to be a wall she erected herself by warping the space. “I’m sure you are familiar with the concept of bartering, hm? You get information, and I get a little bit of entertainment while I’m cooped in here. It’s a win-win for both of us, hm?”

Each word from her lips seem to infuse the air itself, thickening each breath you take in and eroding your reason to stoke your desire. Shalom stood up, taking a step back while she snapped her fingers, engulfing the chair you sat on with a gelatinous substance before the object disappeared into the darkness. Now, you were only held up by her tendrils, helplessly hung in the air as she drank in your appearance. Four more tentacles, two sliding out from somewhere on her back and the others from behind her legs, move towards you and made quick work on your clothes, the articles left to drop in a haphazard pile on the floor.

“I’m not here for you, or anyone else to have sex with. I will forward the request for approval to the facility if you want something of that nature, but—“

In that moment, the symbol on her right eye seems to bore right into your soul, then she stroked your cheek, voice soothing, tickling the air and making you gulp. Was it fear or anticipation? You could no longer be sure. “What got you so frightened? You will not share the fate of your colleagues, or come back as anything else but a normal, living person. Does it count as killing you a little if you come back out perhaps a bit exhausted?” She mused, practiced amusement sliding into her tone. “Don’t worry, I’ll make it pleasurable for you, too.”

Another couple of tendrils engulfed her clothes, and you were left with the sight of her naked body. Just how many did she hide behind that human appearance of hers? Regardless, like what you had always seen, every part of her was sculpted to perfection, any blemish and flaw hidden, or perhaps, she never allowed any to mar her. A few of your colleagues had theorized she made her own body, or perhaps, stole one from an unsuspecting person before she came to be imprisoned in the facility, but regardless, S-017 - Shalom’s perfectionism was well-known among your fellow researchers, to an unsettling degree.

“Does this body appeal to you?” The question snapped you out of your own reverie, not helped as she emphasizes her words with a rough pinch on your nipples. She sounded amused, sitting on thin air propped with her own alien limbs. This was the first time you had ever gotten a proper look of them, the tendrils starting with a vivid maroon of her hair, before fading to white and glowing in a bright, luminescent blue at the tips.

“Answer me,” she demanded, tendrils forcing you to look at her eyes. A lulling blue glow flooded your vision for a moment, and when it fades, your mind felt hazy, cloudy, your inhibition loosening as approval tumbled down from your lips. It felt good, it felt good as she smiled, and at least, even if the facility won’t send anyone, you can take comfort in the fact that the monster before you seem to be fond enough of you. The limbs propping you up shifted and made you lean forward, ass up in the air, another tentacle invading your puckered hole, only leaving your mouth free.

“Service me, and I’ll see that you’re returned, more or less unharmed.”

Accompanied with a flash of blue in your vision, her order seeped into your mind in a more direct way compared to a verbal command, an easy pleasure invading your body as you leaned as close as she allowed you, to the dripping slit between her legs. Hesitation screamed at the edge of your thoughts, yet, you could no longer process it, your tongue lapping at her with the fervor rivalling one induced by addiction. Your reward came in the form of pleasure as the tendrils nestled inside you start to move in tune with your movements, brushing that spongy spot while unnatural glee washed all over your body. It was as if each of the monster’s words carry a hidden reward, one that would be released as flashes of happiness as you obeyed her.

As your climb ever closer to your peak, Shalom released two more tendrils from her back, covering your eyes until all you could feel, could hear, could taste, was her, her moans of pleasure that sends happiness jolting straight into your quivering body, and the feeling of her tendrils invading deep, deep into you as if to prevent you from knowing, perceiving anything else. In the darkness, your senses felt sharper, each brush becoming tenfold in its intensity as you felt yourself thrown and engulfed in the throes of pleasure.

Everything was heightened, sharper. As you reached that sweet release, you tasted her release right at the same time, only for it to be snatched in an instant as you taste the monster’s lips on yours. You were far too distracted, unaware as foreign objects settled deep in your body, only feeling the oddity for a moment before you were dragged back to feel the full force of pleasure. She swallowed your screams, leaving you dripping, out of breath, and hung suspended in the air as the tentacles covering your eyes start to shift away, allowing you your sight again, to see Shalom looking especially pleased with herself. In contrast to the mess you were in, she had already dressed herself, no proof of the pleasure you had shared could be seen on her.

A contrast to your messed-up state.

While propping you up, she lowered you and let you stand, and in a flash of blue in your vision, you were already dressed.

“That completes the deal, as for my end—“

A tentacle probed into your head, not at all painful, yet there was a strangeness to it that you couldn’t put your finger on. As it reached a part of your mind, you saw images, information engraved directly into your memories. It felt like an eternity before she released her hold on you, and when she did, the room has returned to its prior state, no trace of the maze in sight.

“Huh…?” You mumble, dumbfounded. “Did no one see that, or was that just a—“

“Dream? Of course not, they have been pretty busy, I might add, but they can’t reach both of us in the corner of an ever-shifting maze. I would estimate it will take them around a century to find the exit, if they keep searching the entire time,” Shalom smiled at your dumbfounded expression, “Don’t worry, once you open that door, they’ll be transported back somewhere in this building. After all, I want you to be able to come back here without suffering any consequence, but…”

Her smile turns hungry.

“Come back in time, otherwise, you’ll be in for quite an amusing experience, alright?”

#path to nowhere #path to nowhere x reader #ptn x reader #path to nowhere headcanons #ptn shalom x reader

194 notes · View notes

chiliyue-archived · 9 months

Text

Self care

↬dressing his wounds/scars

includes; dazai x gn!reader

entry; ❛ just relax and let me take care of you. ❜

[Event Navi | M.list] | [Bsd M.List] ♡

dazai wanted to chagrin.

the scars littering his arms gawk back at him tauntingly, provoking a surge of memories to consume him in a numbing pulp. but it was hard to remain wrap in his own demons, not when he felt compelled to copy the smile plaster on your lips. it was the very one he came to be smitten over.

you were seated in his lap, the bathroom too tiny to accommodate the pair of you but he hardly seemed dejected by it. if anything, a grin began to play on his lips when you held onto his shoulders for support, shifting until you got a good angle to work with. " hold still."

he nods, waiting patiently as you brush your lips on his nose and reel away. he stops the urge to bring you back, finding content in just having you close with a hand settling on your back.

he does revel at the glances you steal from him - attention divided between dressing the molded wounds and risking a look. he relishes in the way you display a lift in your lips whenever you catch his familiar brown orbs - only for him to poke your cheeks before you could stray too far from your adjective. and when you went to brush aside the loose hairs that tickle your forehead, his hand was already in the process of tucking it behind your ear for you. his fingers linger a second longer each time - reluctance growing like a tide before holding onto your shoulder.

" my own personal nurse," he sighs, leaning close enough to press his lips on some part of you. the laugh you sent him was infectious.

he found it terribly even cuter, however, how your face became scrunched up as you handle the materials with foucs or when the putrid waft of antiseptic permeated your cramped bathroom. he was sure to kiss the pinched area whenever he saw the crease form, brightening in how it disappears. but internally he prays this wasn't the work of a lucid dream.

the hands on his face tell him otherwise, your thumb trailing the apples of his cheeks and reminding him that you're right there with him.

it was almost easy to forget how vulnerable he was setting himself up to be. almost.

" i'm gonna start."

the grin that found itself on his lips when you first cuddled up nearly fades as soon as you start fiddling with the gauze in your fingers, peeling back his shield and revealing flesh that has been long voided of light. it was instead replace with an anticipatory flutter in his heart, trompering in his sternum as though ero's own blessing was bestowed upon him in that moment.

" does this hurt?" he watched as you carefully ran your fingers over the scars - almost ghostly in its approach.

"it doesn't," he admitted.

"perfect."

and for the first time in so long, skin that has been starved of human touch became filled with vitality again. he wanted to shudder at the exposure, and he felt as though your reassuring rubs were the only thing keeping him from running away. he was so accustomed to patching himself up that it almost felt unreal to how welcoming your touch was.

even when he supposedly got use to it, he still has to suppress the urge to recoil when you feather against him for nth time, shivers riveting along with his spine and eyes squeezing shut.

your hands were so much softer than his, he mentally notes. he couldn't help but be mildly entranced when you handle the material with a steadiness unmatched to his own. you were treating him far better than he has ever and will presumably ever treat himself.

" you're getting distracted." he remarks with a poke to your forehead when he catches you staring again. it was futile to resist the twitch in his mouth that when you bat your eyelashes at him, an unsullied face gleaming unapologetically.

"sorry, you're just handsome." he swallows the lump in his throat but he was powerless to subdue the warmth that flickers in his chest cavity, meandering to the other cold parts in his body.

a form of silence furnishes the bathroom as you coil the new gauze around his arms, mindful to not produce any discomfort. it takes everything in his willpower to not shake when you lean down to capture the covered area in a kiss.

"do you find me handsome with these scars?"

dazai finds himself sucking in a breath when you smile against his second skin. "even more so."

"not many would agree with you."

he blinks when you suddenly shift the limb in your hands, sparing only a quick glance at him as you shuffle closer. and you really surprised him this time. very quickly, his pensive gaze dissipates with a shiver trembling along his body, fingers flexing in your grasp when you capture his knuckles this time in a kiss.

he swore he felt the breath in his throat was about to squeeze away, brain too hazy to recognize anything else. his stupor was accentuated when you blinked at him, irses meeting his own through your eyelashes.

" they're wrong."

"you're so certain?" you nod, moving to kiss the corner of his mouth.

in an effort to garner control the situation, he hand slips to clasp your chin gently, maneuvering your head until your lips met. you savor the way his breath prickles your lower lip, something akin to a breathy hum emulating from him. it's timbre ricochet along from the chaste kiss, jolting your nerves.

you're too engrossed in the exchange to notice the way his fingers weaved into your palm properly, exposed wrist meeting yours. he lets out a sigh as he felt the pulse echo against his, rhythm growing in sync to each other perpetually.

when he withdrew, he didn't let you get too far, a hand resting on your nape and keeping in proximity. his pinky and thumb played with baby hairs, lazy motions in contrast to his palpitating nerves. he was close enough to rest his forehead on yours, eyes peering down to watch you dress the rest of him.

"now, just relax and let me take care of you. okay?"

"okay." you saw him smile in the corner of your eyes, paired with a squeeze of your hand. you couldn't help but reciprocate the same gesture, and once again, the same tickling came to fill his barren husk. he smiles, reaching out to sweep your loose strands aside when it came to sweep over your eyes again but he stills when you capture the limb in your hand. he blinks hard as you adjoin it to your lips, placing a butterfly kiss on each pad.

"you have the most beautiful hands and fingers." he freezes knowing if he wasn't cautious he could reach the cusp of breaking down at any moment. "i could hold your hands forever."

as though proving your point you offer him a tight squeeze - but inwardly the squeezing of his chest was far more pronounce.

he attempts to collect himself with an exaggerated breath. "you're too good for me," he whispers. "i might get addicted to this."

your lips brush on his forehead and he almost shakes, unable to do nothing more than recline into you until it was just impossible.

"good" you hum. "you're also very pretty."

for the first time since he entered the bathroom, a swatch of red began to streak his cheeks. it certainly felt inevitable now with your ceasless antics, not that he didn't complain - the guilty and almost shaky grin that came to his lips was telling of that. notably; it was absent of the mischievous gleam that commonly orbits him; instead, it spoke both of his gratitude and effervescent affections that brew rampant the more you indulge him.

dazai allows his head to fall forward; forehead meeting your collarbone. his fanning breath reminds you of his presence, even when he grows silent as you curl the bandges into its proper orientation. he angles his head just enough for his ear to rest right over your chest.

you could barely hear the words that left him, voice just loud enough to cut the calming ambiance. "you're pretty too."

the thrum of your heart echoing in his lobe, pair with the heedful glides of your hands reaches a form of pinnacle for him; weighing him down to the city of yokohama, in your shared tiny cramp bathroom and encompassing care, covering him with a duvet so thick he could feel his eyes grow heavy.

but he wonders if you knew just how heavy his heart was for you.

this was really out of my comfort zone and style but I really like it :) giving all lowercase a try ! i like how causal it feels

anyways, i have a lot of dazai works brewing (and some tecchou :>)

taglist; @eynnwwyjth @anqelically @seisitive @iheartpieck @seiiblue @averagebsdwatcher @solandis

be added or removed here ♡

#dazai x reader #bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #bsd scenarios #bsd fluff #dazai fluff #osamu dazai x reader #dazai imagines #bsd imagines #dazai x you #bsd x you

597 notes · View notes

scaredpigeons · 5 months

Text

More than some stress relief

Blade x Stelle NSFW 18+ MDNI

CW: Stelle asks Blade to spar with her, and unfortunately that results in some unresolved sexual frustration, because c’mon, he’s still a whole ass man. Luckily, mama Kafka steps in to lend a helping hand. (Not her literal hand, she just buys the toy lol) phone sex, mutual masturbation? The fleshlight blade uses is connected to Stelle through the (magical) necklace that was part of the set. (Magical) creampie.

WARNING: Blade is very violent in his descriptions of how he threatens to bone Stelle. If you’re uncomfortable with him saying things along the lines of: —until the carnage is unrecognizable, —until you’re nothing but hot pulp running through my fingers (just to paraphrase loool) please do not read this. Blade is a very broken man, I was really trying to play off his more violent tendencies with this one. Stelle is so fuckin down bad tho (relatable)

If you are 18+, comfortable with some gory descriptors, and willing to read, please continue! Enjoy.

——————————

🐺👾: you want to…. Spar with blade? Are you a masochist or something? Should I be concerned?

🦝🗑️: shut up

🦝🗑️: I have this crazy lance and I don’t really want to hurt anyone by practicing with it

🦝🗑️: I know he’s got that healing thing going on

🐺👾: 👀 ….

🐺👾: I’m telling him you called it that

🦝🗑️: DONT U DARE

🦝🗑️: JUST PLEASE ASK THE MAN IF HE CAN SPAR WITH ME WITHOUT KILLING ME

🦝🗑️: AND DON'T TELL HIM IT'S ONLY BECAUSE HES WEIRDLY INDESTRUCTIBLE

🦝🗑️: I don’t wanna like, offend him or anything. Obvi I don’t want him to get hurt, but like, the off chance I slip up with this thing… he isn’t gonna get murked. You know?

🐺👾: okay okay I get it, I’ll ask

🦝🗑️: 😩🩶🩶💯🔥

🐺👾: he agreed. Here’s the coordinates. Have fun, don’t die.

————

“Thank you for agreeing to this, I really appreciate it!”

The man in front of Stelle says nothing, only stares as the winds coming off the water pick up loose strands of his hair, making the inky strands flow behind him.

“You… remember me, right?” Stelle tentatively asks.

Still nothing.

“It’s okay if you don’t, we don’t even have to go through with this, I just thought you would be the best person for what I’m—“

“I remember you, Trailblazer. My mind is not so far eroded that I’d forget you so easily.”

His voice is dark, just as raspy as she remembers it. She has to clench her teeth to suppress a shudder. If March could hear her thoughts, she’d blush and squeal, smacking her arm in scandal. If Dan Heng could hear her thoughts… he’d institutionalize her immediately.

This man is dangerous. Incredibly dangerous. Stelle had to lie about where she was going just so no one would try to talk her out of it.

Danger always pulled at something inside her though, that nasty, deranged thing inside her that craved violence and adrenaline. She figured it was a side effect of hosting a stellaron inside her body, but man— did this guy make her wish she could have something else inside her body too.

*Wink wink*

Aeons. She’s such a fucking simp. If it wouldn’t make her look bat shit insane, she’d smack herself right now just to get her shit together.

“Oh…” she said instead. “That’s good. I’m glad.”

An awkward pause lingered between them, and she found herself thinking that maybe she was standing a bit too close to him, despite there being at least two feet between them.

“Are you… doing well? The last time I saw you, Kafka was… helping you feel better.” She said hesitantly.

It could’ve been her imagination, but she swore that the furrow of his brow softened ever so slightly.

“We’re not here to discuss such trivial matters.” His voice was harsh nonetheless.

“Right, right.” Stelle said, scratching the back of her neck sheepishly. “So, how do we do this?”

Blade summoned his sword, dragging his fingertips across the edge before spreading the tainted blood across the flat of it, causing the cracked blade to glow and radiate with unnatural power.

“It is not your time or place to die here, so luckily for you, I will show restraint.”

—————

Stelle could tell Blade was holding back, true to his word.

Any flames she created were either quelled by his winds, or overfanned by his elemental power to the point that they grew too dangerous for the environment around them, or even Stelle herself.

She found that with her control over the lance, she could call forth and dissipate her fires at will, so the damage to herself was minimal.

She worried that if the flames grew too large, she’d lose control over them— but every time, she willed them away and they would flicker out, leaving charred shrubbery and stone in their wake.

Didn’t mean they weren’t hot as shit though.

The first time she’d used the lance, the freezing temperatures of Jarilo XI dulled just how hot her new weapon could become.

But now, well she couldn’t tell if her sweat was from the flames or just how hard her opponent was pushing her.

He was toying with her, clashing together brutally before jumping away and circling her like a hawk.

He was resistant to her taunts, though keeping up with him left little room for her to pause long enough to think of something to say.

He seemed completely at ease though, the violence in his eyes and the murderous grin doing nothing to help the degenerate part of her brain that was screaming and crying and throwing up at the opportunity to observe him like this up close, without Dan Heng around to make her feel guilty for admiring this man so much.

Her arms grew heavy, and she’d not even made him sweat, let alone injure him in any way.

She knew that the lack of true danger was causing her to remain at a reasonable power level, flash backs to the Herta space station incident making her shudder.

She was really no match for him in this kind of situation.

He lunged for her again, and this time, she was too tired to react properly. She parried his strike, but missed the signs of his next move, getting her feet swiped out from beneath her as he tackled her to the ground. His sword stabbed into the dirt just beside her head as he landed on top of her, effectively straddling her as he pinned her with his intense gaze.

Her eyes flitted back and forth between his as her breath heaved in her chest, her heart racing as she struggled to right herself after being disoriented so badly.

Something in his expression shifted, and instead of murderous amusement, his gaze seemed… hungry.

He leaned closer, ever so slowly, and continued staring at Stelle so intently it made her do something so embarrassing she knew she would never live it down.

She whimpered.

His eyes widened for a fraction of a second before he was gone.

He pulled away from her and disappeared within the same breath, leaving her lying there in the dirt as she caught her breath.

She ran her hands over her face. “Well fuck.”

—————

🐺👾: what did you do to him?

🦝🗑️: ???????

🐺👾: last week. When the two of you sparred, did something happen?

🦝🗑️: ….

🦝🗑️: why

🐺👾: ever since he got back he’s been fucking pouting.

🐺👾: well, I mean pouting in the way that blade does. It’s more of a scowl than anything else, but I’ve known him long enough to differentiate between his various types of frowns.

🦝🗑️: … nothing happened. We fought. I lost, obviously. But no one was hurt or anything. 🙃 everything’s totally normal

🐺👾 added Kafka🕷️💕 to the chat

🐺👾: Kafka, what’s she hiding?

Kafka🕷️💕: some sexual tension, most likely.

🦝🗑️: …. -_-

🦝🗑️: mother, why hast thou forsaken me????

Kafka🕷️💕: nothing to be embarrassed about, sweetie.

Kafka🕷️💕: Bladie may be a tragic creation of the abundance, but his body was once human. It wouldn’t be a far stretch to say that some of the more… human tendencies of a man may still linger within him.

🐺👾: F

🦝🗑️: F

🐺👾: so you’re saying he’s pouting and kicking shit because he’s sexually frustrated? That’s fuckin nasty.

🐺👾: @🦝🗑️ you need to fix this. I don’t wanna look at him sulk anymore

🦝🗑️: me?!!?!? Tf am I supposed to do??? How is this my fault???

🐺👾: you fought him and now he’s horny. Fix it.

🦝🗑️: … bruh

Kafka🕷️💕: I don’t think the traditional way of solving this problem will be the best idea, silver wolf. 🤭

🐺👾: wym? 🤨

Kafka🕷️💕: I don’t think it’s safe right now for our little trailblazer and Bladie to get together on a more intimate level… he’s still a bit unstable mentally.

🦝🗑️: you let me fight this man while hES UNSTABLE

🐺👾: heh. L

Kafka🕷️💕: fighting is what he knows. It’s what comes natural to him these days. Emotions? Not so much.

🦝🗑️: I mean… I’m always down to help anyone whenever I can

🐺👾: *tucks hair behind ear* “i’M aLwAys DoWn tO HeLP aNyONe WHeNeVEr I cAn”

🦝🗑️: BRO FIGHT ME

🐺👾: no thanks, I have better ways to waste my time

🦝🗑️: ENGAGE ME IN A BATTLE OF FISTICUFFS RN

🦝🗑️: IM ALWAYS DOWN TO HELP BUT USUALLY I GET NICE REWARDS TOO

🐺👾: heh… you want a nice reward for this one too?

🦝🗑️: I STTA ILL COME FIND UR LITTLE HOLOGRAM AND SMACK THE SHIT OUTTA YOU

🐺👾: wtf does stta stand for you heathen

Kafka🕷️💕: ooh! She’s used this one with me before. It’s “swear to the aeons.” Cute, right?

🐺👾: 🙄

🐺👾 has left the chat

Kafka🕷️💕: I think I have an idea on how you can help, if you’re open to it.

🦝🗑️: …

🦝🗑️: what do I need to do?

———

“Stelle sweetie!” Himeko knocked on her cabin door. “You have a package here.”

Stelle nearly slipped as her sock feet slid along the smooth floor of her room in her haste to reach the door.

She tumbled along gracelessly and threw open her door, huffing as she took the package from Himeko.

A box, about five hands wide and three hands deep, wrapped in plain brown paper, with a little card tapped on and slathered with all the necessary postage.

“Thank you!” Stelle said hastily, reaching for her door.

“Wait—“ Himeko put a hand to the door shaft, stepping forward a bit with worry in her eyes.

Stelle cringed a bit, looking up at Himeko and trying to hide the shame she felt creeping up the back of her neck.

“Listen,” Himeko started, eyeing the little card on the package with Stelles name written in pretty, looping letters. “I know you and that stellaron hunter have some strange connection that we aren’t sure about, and I know you’re unsure too, but I just want you to be careful, okay?”

It took a solid two panicked seconds for Stelle to realize that Himeko was speaking about Kafka, and not the other stellaron hunter she’d so guilty formed a connection with recently.

When the realization dawned on her, she tucked her package to the side and pulled Himeko into a tender side hug, snuggling into her chest a bit as she usually did.

“Thank you for worrying about me, Himeko.” Stelle said, pulling away. “It means a lot to me, and I promise I’m being careful. I won’t do anything to jeopardize the safety of anyone on the express.”

Himeko sighed, smiling as she pulled back too. “I know, I just worry about you. We’re all here to support you through this, you know that.”

Stelle grinned. “I do, thank you.”

The red haired woman nodded, smiling still as she said her goodbyes and left Stelle to her own devices.

She’d never closed and locked her door so quickly before.

Throwing the package on her bed, she hastily sat beside it and pulled the card from the packaging.

She took a moment to trace her fingers over the pretty script on the card, before she tore open the envelope and read its contents.

Stelle,

Inside this box you’ll find the fun toy I told you about, along with a new shipping label to send it off to Bladie.

I’m off on my own right now, far away from him, and I figured he’d handle it a lot better if it came from you, and not me. hehe~

Also, you’ll find a beautiful little necklace I had added to the set, that’s for you to wear. I’m sure you’ll have a wonderful time with it.

Thinking fondly of you always,

Stelle blushed a little, Kafka was always saying the strangest things. She tucked the card away in her nightstand and gently pried open the package, not wanting to tear the postage stamps.

Inside was indeed the… thing that she was told about, and she blushed furiously while looking at the nondescript white box, though the size and shape was very indicative of what was inside.

She pulled the new shipping label out, looking at the address inquisitively and realizing she had no idea where Blade even was, not recognizing the planet.

She sat it aside and pulled out the other small box inside, opening it up and finding a rather beautiful blue choker necklace. The colour was reminiscent of her garter, and she smiled, happily pulling the gift from its box and wrapping it around her slender throat.

It clicked nicely in the back, and fit perfectly. She smiled, patting it and thinking about how it was such a thoughtful gift, however strangely unrelated. Then again Kafka was a bit of an enigma regardless, so who knows what her thought process was when putting these two together.

Stelle closed up the box, slapping the new shipping label over the old one and eyeing it as it sat in the middle of her bed.

Fuck, I should probably write him a letter, some kind of explination so he doesn’t just throw it away without opening it.

She scurried to her desk, pulling out a very cutesy animal themed stationary set that March had gifted her after their mission on Jarilo XI.

The envelopes and cards were soft blue, covered in cute little bunnies and bears and what Stelle thinks are pink raccoons, surrounded with hearts and little stars.

She laughed at the idea of Blade handling such delicate paper, and got to writing a quick note on her desk.

Hey,

Don’t hate me, but SW was complaining about your… mood lately, and I thought this might help. I totally fuckin get it, trust me, I understand. Traveling with a group of people that’s more like family than anything else can really put a damper on your… personal time. So please take time for yourself, if not for me, then to at least make silver wolf stop complaining to me that you’re moody.

I look forward to the day you’ll spar with me again.

-Stelle

It might’ve been doing a bit too much, but Stelle couldn’t help but feel like the note might help him to be more receptive to the gift.

Being a bit delusional never stopped her before, so why should it now?

She slid the card in the envelope and slapped it to the package, picking it up to go and have it delivered. Hopefully she could feel a bit more at peace once it was gone.

—————

A quick and impatient knock sounded on his room door, pulling him from his deep meditation on the floor.

“Hey asshole, you’ve got a package.”

He and Silver Wolf were sent together to fulfill one of Elio’s scripts, and it was a brief period of lull in their respective duties.

The inn they were staying at wasn’t lavish by any means, but they were discreet, and that’s really all they could hope for.

Blade released a breath through his nose as he rose from the floor, walking over and opening up his room to find his fellow hunter standing impatiently, tapping her foot on the rough carpet of the hallway.

Blade hated carpet in the hallways of inns. Always disgusting and ridiculously coloured.

“Here.” Silver Wolf shoved the box in his hands, her grin was wide, spreading to her eyes which twinkled up at him with the mischief he tried so desperately to avoid.

“Who could possibly know where we are right now.” He grumbled at her, though she was already turning to leave.

“I have an inkling, and hopefully the stick falls out of your ass soon.” She laughed maniacally as she waltzed down the hall. “Enjoy!”

Blade felt his brow scrunch up tight as he eyed the package. The blue envelope tapped into it was terrible to look at, the childish print making him want to throw it away immediately, but the unfamiliar lettering spelling his name across the paper made him pause.

He brought the package to his bed, sitting down and thumbing open the envelope.

The contents of the card made his stomach drop and then lurch into his throat. He was ready to run silver wolf through with his sword.

Calm yourself.

He took steady breaths, though he was angry, he was also rather curious about what exactly was in the box.

With a carefulness he didn’t remember he had, he pried open the package to find a smaller white box without any words or indicators of what could be inside.

He lifted the lid, only to drop it in shock at what lurked within. He knew what that was. He was older than most but he was still a man, and he knew exactly what had been sent to him— what was to help his “mood.”

He sighed, pinching his temples. He didn’t know whether he wanted to thank silver wolf or strangle her. Either way, he’d be getting some kind of relief today.

———————

Stelle was eating dinner when she felt the first phantom touch.

Fingertips, as soft as a whisper, ghosting over her pubic mound and making her stomach dip.

Her eyes darted around, but everyone else was still enjoying their meal, chatting quietly together with the melody of silverware accompanying their voices.

She was sat beside Dan Heng tonight, but both of his hands were above the table.

She leaned back to look at him below the waist, looking to see if he’d manifested his tail and was making a pass at her, or more likely, was absentmindedly flicking it about like he did whenever he took his secondary form.

But no, he was tailless this evening, and now eyeing her a bit warily as her eyes darted around.

“You okay?” He murmured, not wanting to bother the others.

The touch ghosted along her outer labia now, making her drop her fork in shock.

Everyone was looking at her now, and she felt something pulse around her throat, right where her new necklace rested.

Her face heated, and she placed her utensils onto her half finished plate before scooting from behind the table.

“I’m… not feeling the greatest. I think I’m gonna go to bed early, if you all don’t mind.”

She stood quickly, standing there for a moment as the touches continued, soft and inquisitive.

“Are you alright?” Welt asked, concerned. “Would you like me to bring you some tea, or medicine?”

“No!” Stelle jumped, before she caught herself and smiled sheepishly. “I’m alright, just feeling a little off. Probably just need some good sleep. I’ll see you all in the morning?”

They all nodded, watching her go with worried eyes, but letting her leave without more questioning, which she was so grateful for.

As soon as she made it to her room, she felt the first touch swipe through her core, and she nearly keened.

Her throat pulsed, the necklace weakly glowing in the dark of her room.

Her body felt hot. She was embarrassed at the amount of wetness that was pooling in her underwear, but most importantly, she was so fucking confused at what was going on.

Something wet and blunt prodded at her entrance, and her knees buckled as she locked her door.

She nearly crawled to her bed as her choker pulsed and pulsed with a weak glow, and the blunt thing, which felt suspiciously like a pair of fingers, finally slipped inside her, curiously prodding around, as if feeling her out.

She slapped a hand over her mouth as she squeezed around the phantom digits, their touch lingering at her g spot with ridiculous precision. The fingers withdrew and she breathed a sigh of relief, though it was short lived as something much, much larger prodded itself at her entrance.

Her eyes widened, and she scrambled to pull Kafkas card from her bedside drawer.

“you’ll find a beautiful little necklace I had added to the set, that’s for you to wear. I’m sure you’ll have a wonderful time with it. “

Stelle hadn’t realized what those words meant at the time, but as the blunt head of a ridiculously sized phallic object pushed at her hole, the meaning slapped her in the face like a rouge automaton.

Her back arched off the bed as the phantom cock pushed into her, and she choked on a moan as it buried itself deep within her. She was so ridiculously wet she wanted to cry, and knowing who was on the other end of this feeling made her eyes roll back into her head.

The thrusts started slow, but slowly worked their way up to something more intense, almost violent. Her insides churned, and she felt the telltale signs of an orgasm building up so quickly she might scream.

No, no no no. She scrambled, reaching for the necklace, but when her fingers reached the latch, the thrusts changed angles, pounding directly into her g-spot and she cussed into the dark of her room.

Her orgasm washed over her like a tidal wave, crashing into her and seeping deep into her bones. It was the first actually satisfying orgasm she’d had in an incredibly long time.

Her fingertips shook as they lingered on the necklace a moment, before she threw them back to her sheets, gripping them tightly as the thrusts continued.

Fuck, this feels too good.

Through the post orgasm fog, she wondered if he knew.

Did he know it was connected to her?

She suddenly felt overcome with guilt. If he didn’t know, this felt a little like taking advantage of his struggles. If he did know, then she wanted to hear him say it out loud, that he knew exactly what he was doing to her.

She wanted him to hear exactly what he was doing to her.

With shaking hands and twitching thighs, she slapped around her bed for her phone, biting her lip through the pleasure to scroll through her contacts.

It was nearly at the bottom, and the last time it was used was a hack of Silver Wolf’s, and Kafkas words, not his own. But she had to try regardless.

She clicked the call button, bringing her phone to her ear as she bit back moans.

Suddenly, the thrusting within her stopped, though the phantom cock remained buried within her.

She gasped as the ringing came to a halt as the line picked up.

There was no answer, though she swore she could hear his breathing, just a bit heavier than usual.

“Don’t… don’t stop.” She whispered.

She thought she heard his breath catch in his throat. She definitely heard the swallow before he spoke.

“What are you talking about.” His gravelly voice reverberated through the phone, and she felt the cock inside her move ever so slowly, in and out.

She bit her lip. “I didn’t know at first, I swear.” Her thoughts were scrambled as the soft thrusts continued, and the knowledge that he was actively fucking himself with the toy while she spoke make her stomach jump in pleasure.

“You didn’t know what?” He said, voice low and nearly at a whisper.

“It’s… we’re… we’re connected.”

The toy stopped, and she sucked in a breath of relief, hoping to gather her thoughts so she could properly explain herself.

Suddenly a moan was ripped from her chest as his cock thrust into the toy with vigor, and his intense pace was picked back up tenfold.

She tried to hide it, but the damage was done, and if he didn’t know before, he certainly did now as he listened to her whine and whimper through the phone.

“I thought the inside felt far too realistic.” He growled. “You’re squeezing me so tight, little Nameless.”

She gasped, his voice along with the stimulation was far too much, and another orgasm was quickly approaching.

She tried to play it off like she wasn’t being fucked within an inch of her life though.

“Yeah well, it’s… been a while since I’ve gotten any action, s-so forgive me for being a little tense.” She stammered.

He switched his thrusts to hard and deep, so hard Stelle could nearly feel the sensation of his hips hitting hers, and she’s almost positive the fat of her lower half would be rippling in the recoil if he were actually here.

“I knew as soon as I saw you that you were just a needy hole begging to be filled.” Blade said, voice deep and oh so condescending.

Stelle fisted the sheets, her eyes nearly rolling into her skull as her needy moans slipped through clenched teeth. He was right, he was so right— but that didn’t mean she needed to concede so easily.

“That’s bold talk…” she hissed, biting her lips until they felt raw. “…For someone who literally ran away from m-me as soon as his blood traveled south.”

His dark laugh made her squeeze around him, and she knew he could feel it because the laugh trickled off into a deep groan that set her face on fire. She felt like her fingertips were alight with electricity, like her body was attempting to defy the artificial gravity on the express as she arched off her sheets.

The pounding within her never faltered as he continued speaking his vile, filthy words at her.

“You’re lucky I did, little Nameless.” She could almost imagine his murderous grin, the violence that vibrated through his voice was astounding. “If I had stayed I would have fucked you until not even your beloved crew would have been able to recognize the carnage I’d left behind.”

She couldn’t stop the noise that flew from her throat, a guttural keening that had her gripping her cellphone in embarrassment as he laughed once more.

“Oh?” He teased, voice edged with gravel and venom. “You must be desperate to enjoy the idea of me fucking you until you’re nothing but hot pulp slipping through my fucking fingers.”

Oh she was so desperate, so fucked. If anyone else had said something so absolutely horrifying, she’d have run far, far away.

“Does the rest of the express crew know how fucking depraved you are?” His thrusts seemed to pick up speed, which would’ve seemed nearly impossible, except she couldn’t exactly think at the moment, only sob as they slammed against that spot inside her over and over again until she felt herself slipping slowly.

“Do they know that their precious little star wants to be fucked by a monster?” He snarled, and she cried out into the soft light of her room, thrashing around as her orgasm teased its way at her— but she was holding it back, why, why?

“Please,” she gasped. “Please, can I—“ oh, she thought distantly. Oh I’m so fucked up.

Blade groaned, the slick sounds of him thrusting into the toy ringing in her ear. “So desperate, so polite. You really are something else.”

She keened, arching her back as the feeling licked at her further, so close to toppling over the edge.

“Go on then,” Blade whispered darkly. “Cum for me.”

It crashed over her, more powerful than anything she could remember feeling. It pulsed through her in quick waves, so strong and violent as he just kept going.

It started to dance into sickly sweet overstimulation as she heard his breath quicken, and she steadied her breath, wanting to savor this moment.

“You know,” she breathed. “I’m a lot tougher than you think.”

His breath stuttered, his pace faltering ever so slightly.

“I could take it,” she whispered. “I don’t think you’d hurt me in any way I didn’t want you to.”

He faltered, and she heard him cuss under his breath through the phone.

“Yeah?” He whispered. “You’d take what I give you?”

She nodded at her ceiling, knowing he couldn’t see her, but her mind was too foggy with brutal pleasure to think straight. He was undoing her.

“Every disgusting, violent, nasty thing you’d give me Blade,” she said, clutching the sheets as tears welled behind her eyes, praying he was almost finished but simultaneously never wanting it to end. “I’d take it so well for you, and I’d thank you for it.”

“Fuck.” Blade moaned, deep and guttural, and his thrusting seized inside her. Much to her shock, she could feel the warmth of him filling her up, pump and after pump of him coating her insides.

They both lay there, staring at their ceilings and breathing heavily over the phone, not speaking but not really wanting to anyways.

Finally, once the breath returned to her lungs unlaboured, she felt him pull himself from the toy.

She felt like she’d been hollowed out, like a crater had been formed where her insides should be, and without him there plugging her up—-her guts would fall out and she’d be left empty.

He made a confused noise, and just as he did she felt the telltale squelch of cum slipping from her still twitching insides, and she groaned in frustration.

“Well then,” he chuckled, softer now than before— almost a forbidden sound. “That makes cleaning up easier for me.”

She smacked her hand over her face. “This is the weirdest toy ever invented, and I'm going to cry the next time I have to face Kafka.”

“I figured this had something to do with her,” he said, shuffling noises heard from his end of the line. “She can never stay out of my business for too terribly long, unfortunately.”

“Mine too it seems.” Stelle sighed. She smiled when he made a neutral sound of agreement.

“You sound like you’re in a better mood.” She said, uncaring of the consequences.

“Well, before I realized what this really was, I was just hoping to release some inconvenient pent up energy.” He said, voice flat. “But I suppose doing it this way has added benefits. I’m no fool, I understand how the human brain works.”

“So this… helped you?” Stelle asked tentatively.

He sighed. “I’d be lying if I said it was entirely useless.”

Stelle smiled, stroking the choker around her throat, the delicate glow now completely faded.

“I’ll keep my end of the connection on, it's simple enough. Just call me next time, okay? I don’t need to embarrass myself at dinner again.”

“I make no such promises.” She thought she heard the faintest of smiles in that last sentence before the line went dead.

#honkai star rail #honkai star rail smut #stelle #blade smut #hsr blade smut #hsr smut #hsr blade #hsr stelle #stelle x blade #blade x stelle #blade x stelle smut #stelle smut #tw: violent descriptions

277 notes · View notes

weirdlookindog · 3 months

Text

Thrilling Mystery - March 1937 (Standard)

Cover art by Rudolph Belarski.

#thrilling mystery #thrilling mystery magazine #rudolph belarski #the blank face of horror #pulp art #horror art #pulp covers #pulp magazine #shudder pulps

67 notes · View notes

absolutebl · 5 months

Text

This Week in BL - I Gave a 10/10 to a BL... me!

Organized, in each category, by ones I'm enjoying most at the top.

Nov 2023 Wk 3

Ongoing Series - Thai

My Dear Gangster Oppa (Thurs iQIYI) ep 4 of 8 - I love this show. I adore Tew's the simple backstory. No frills. No fuss. He got dragged in the way many do and he can kill so they kept him. They aren’t trying to make it needlessly complicated (which is rare for Thailand). That said, the pacing is way tf off, the emotional arc is rushed and then sappy out of absolutely nowhere. Before you ask, the kiss is not at issue, we halfway through they should be kissing, but the romantic life changes - too soon. But I don’t care. Finally, they left us this ep reminded of 2 v important things,

this pair kisses beautifully

in BL all mafia be gay

Fun fun!

Last Twilight (Fri YT) ep 2 of 12 - It's official, I love this. It’s a classic caregiver/bodyguard trope where one of them is opening the other one up to the world, but sweetly. I’m enjoying the softness of JimmySea's take and I hope GMM TV takes its cues from the success of My School President and doesn’t push this particular show into rough or edgy territory. Stay on target GMMTV. Don't mess with my bias again!

Twins the series (Fri GaGa) ep 3 of 10 - Finally, our adorable side couple has emerged! This show remains engaging without losing pace (despite the main couple being slow burn), which is all I want from a Thai pulp, and more I could ask for currently from a sports BL.

(Note: when I dictate the computer always puts "Thai pope" instead of Thai pulp - this is hilarious to me.)

Pit Babe (Fri iQIYI) ep 1 of 14 - I guess they didn’t strip the omegaverse out of this. Unfortunately, I’m not an omegaverse fan, so I find its presence extremely off putting. (But it’s kind of amazing that somebody finally put one on our screen.) Unsurprisingly, it’s a lot of alpha posturing and hyper masculinity, because that’s what this kind of worldbuilding is an excuse for (lazy writing and lazier characterization). This means I don’t like Babe AT ALL except that he’s smell orientated and a bit verse. Way is lovely tho, because Nut is a great soft screen presence amongst the testosterone haze.

Middleman’s Love (Fri YT & iQIYI ep 2 of 8 - I’m not gonna lie (when have I ever bothered to lie to you all?) I’m struggling with this show. The sound effects are getting worse. That is not allowed. Still I found this installment slightly more bearable than the last last, probably because there was more of the cast in play and less of Jade being too cringe to live.

Absolute Zero (Weds iQIYI) ep 8 of 12 - AKA temporal paradox of pain.

My Universe (Sun iQIYI) Friends Forever ep 13 of 24 - Ooo it’s a bit of a teacher/student (coach/player) thing. Linguistic negotiation and kinkification of phi. Also actually kinky. But not consensually. Gonna get dark. Bummer.

Playboyy (Thurs Gaga) 1 of 14(!) eps - Whines. Must I? Gaga doesn’t have a skip ahead button. Sad sack main characters really do not work for me. But this was better than I expected. I wasn’t expecting much.

Look: This is helmed by Cheewin (shudder) with screenplay by Den (Only Friends - shudder the second) under Copy A Bangkok (they deserve not my shuddders). It's gonna be a shizz show people. It's Thai dark War of Y style - my least favorites. Apparently, there is meant to be a "plot" but when has Cheewin ever bothered with plot?

On a completely different note does the blond look like that Korean actor/idol from At a Distance Spring is Green & Wanna One to anyone else? Or is it just me? (Park Ji Hoon)

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

A Breeze of Love (Korea iQIYI) eps 3-4 of 8 - I like it a lot. Dongwook is so obtuse and socially awkward and reserved and needy and Dohyun is so gay over and simultaneously wildly confused by this behavior. Fantastic. A bit stiff, even for Korea, btu I'm okay with it since everything else I'm watching right now is decidedly NOT stiff.

I finished it!

Let's Eat Together Aki and Haru AKA Aki wa Haru to Gohan wo - Japan BL movie 1.5 hr

Best friends life together during university - cheerful sunshine loves to cook, grumpy tsundere loves to eat. Aki is a bit manic pixie dream boy for me (not my favorite archetype) but they’re cute and it’s one of those Japanese slice of life pieces like Our Dining Table that isn’t really a romance in fact it’s barely a drama. This isn’t friends to lovers because they’re basically already in a relationship (which everyone around them knows) they just aren’t fucking. I did spend a lot of time worrying that they weren’t eating any green things whatsoever. In the end this isn’t my thing when there’s no kissing at all, and this was a bit too dull even for JBL. Sorry Japan, one cannot trade on cute and cheese alone. I know, you want to. But that's not a BL or a personality. 6/10

I Cannot Reach You AKA I Can't Reach You AKA Kimi ni wa Todokanai (Japan, maybe coming to Netflix) 8 eps - This classic friends-to-lovers BL is everything Japan does best. Angsty. Emo. Aching. Driven by real thirst. Yamato is deeply in love with his childhood bestie, Kakeru, and has been for ages, unable to hide his ungainly damaging high school need. He wants Kakeru in every way possible and it oozes off of the screen. Kakeru is silly and a little simple, but not frenetic or overly camp about it. He is earnest, and genuinely wants to keep Yamato in his life which means giving a romance (and gayness) a fair chance. We watch him realize his affection and what form it can take in a truly authentic way. This show was impossibly kind to both of its lead characters and I felt honored that I got to watch something so lovely and rare play out on my screen.

I LOVE LOVE LOVED THIS. IT'S SO GOOD.

10/10

Let me be perfectly clear: I have watched 646 BLs and only handed out nine 10/10s.

I talk more about why this one made the cut, here.

It's Airing But...

One Room Angel (Japan Gaga) 6 eps - adaptation of Harada’s manga (which I did not like) about a clerk who's stabbed, nearly dies, and returns home to find an angel waiting for him. With only 5 eps and a good chance this won’t end happy, I'm gonna wait and let you tell me how it goes.

SHADOW (Thai Gaga) 14 eps - I'm not wild about Thai horror (or horror at all) even one featuring Singto and Fluke. I'm holding off on this one and if told it's good I'll binge later.

Beyond The Star (Weds iQIYI) 8 eps - House of Stars meets Boyband. I was NOT impressed. Waiting to be told if I should bother.

What Did You Eat Yesterday Season 2 AKA Kinou Nani Tabeta? Season 2 (Japan Gaga) 10 eps - I find this series more fun to binge, so I'm waiting until it completes its run.

Next Week Looks Like This

STARTING

11/20 Bake Me Please (Mon Gaga) ep 1 of 6 - trailer here, stars Ohm (of OhmFluke) opposite Guide (bestie from IFYLITA). This looks like an actually gay version of Antique Bakery (play it again, BL). I'm intrigued, it looks HELLA pretty.

11/22 7 Days Before Valentine (Weds ????) ep 1 of 10 - trailer here, horror-esk. Adapted from y-novel of the same name, directed by Tu (180 Degree) stars Jet (Why You… Y Me?). When you want your old love again, but fate sends you a reaper instead. All he can do for you is kill people. I'll likely give this a pass and wait to binge if safe.

11/24 VIP Only (Taiwan Fri Gaga) ep 1 of 10 - Screenplay by Lin Pei Yu (WBL) about a chef who courts a shy writer with spicy beef noodles.

11/25 The Sign (Sat ????) ep 1 of 10 - trailer here, horror-esk, but with a suspense and adult characters. Special investigators who loved each other in previous lives reunite in new bodies. Stars Billy Patchanon (BillySeng) & Babe Tanatat (new). Includes other SCOY favorites as a special investigation team. I may give this a try (depending on distribution) because I'm into the non-horror bits.

11/26 The Whisperer (Sun ????) 1 of 10 - trailer here. Thai horror BL that ALSO involves cheating (what joy is mine). He has dimples (My Ride) but I don't think even that gives me the will. You can tell me how this goes.

11/26 Cooking Crush (Sun YT) 1 of 12 - OffGun are back, trailer here. Adapted from the novel “Love Course! เสื้อกาวน์รุกเสื้อกุ๊กรับ” by iJune4S this is about Prem who runs a not-so-popular restaurant with 2 friends. About to go on a cooking competition with a huge reward, Prem gets involved with Ten, a stressed-out med student who wants Prem to teach him to cook.

Still Coming November BL

11/30 For Him (Thurs ????) ep 1 of 10 - high heat trailer, I suspect iQIYI will scoop this one up. From the people who brought us Unforgotten Night (please no) based on a y-novel, man nursing a heartbreak has a one-night stand, but the other boy didn't want it to end. It looks terribly trashy so I'm in! Maybe I'll do a trash watch?

Nov 2023 line up with screen caps here. Not kept updated.

Original 2023 forthcoming BL master post (see comments, some are inaccurate, NOT KEPT UPDATED).

THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENTS

To be fair this was last week but I did get the screen shot until now. (You are Mine)

I Cannot Reach You serving all Japan's favorite tropes plus some very un-Japan decent kisses.

(Last week)

#this week in bl #bl updates #bl review #I Cannot Reach You #Japanese BL #You Are Mine #Taiwanese BL #Let's Eat Together Aki and Haru #Let's Eat Together Aki and Haru review #2023 bl #upcoming bl #My Dear Gangster Oppa #Thai Bl #Last Twilight #GMMTV #Twins the series #Pit Babe #Playboyy #A Breeze of Love

219 notes · View notes

fitsofgloom · 2 years

Text

I Was The Blonde Lure

#national detective cases #pulp magazine #vintage pulp #shudder pulp

27 notes · View notes

shujilovedive · 1 year

Note

Smut game! #13 with Ran 💋 he’s a sleepy boy but y/n really wants to fuck, he lets her fuck his thigh but didn’t expect for y/n to cum so fast so now he’s pissed

Cw: denial??, rans mean to reader in the end..,thigh fucking

Ran grunted as you continued to nuzzle your face into the back of his neck. God, he loved you. He really did. But it took everything in him not to grab his pillow and smother you with it. You knew how precious sleep was to him. You had seen the bruises he left Shion with that one time her barged into Ran's room, drunk and hollering. Not to mention you had been naked under the bed sheets, he had beat him to a pulp and yet you still had the audacity to wake him up and bother him like this.

"Y/n, stop it. I'm exhausted and I want to sleep." He groaned, reaching back and pushing you head away. You whined as he did so, sitting up and looking at your sleepy boyfriend. "But Ran...I need you right now. We didn't fuck last night either. My friend was all over her boyfriend today at work...made me really want you." You begged him, looking down at your gorgeous boyfriend. You weren’t jealous of your friend, hell no. No one else was as appealing to you as Ran Haitani. He was fucking gorgeous and he knew just how to work that sweet little body of yours. But when you had late shifts like this and wanted to come home and get your back blown out by him, he usually refused, throwing a pillow at you when you walked into his room and spoke his name.

But this time you really needed it, you’d do anything. “Please, please…I’m so horny.” You whined, slowly reaching over to stroke some of his hair. Ran was like a cat in a way, there was only so much he could take before he snapped.

“I’m tired, will you just fuck my thigh please, or something.” He grunted, reaching back to swat your hand away, hoping this would be enough for you so he wouldn’t have to move.

You frowned slightly, really wanting his cock inside of you but deciding that this would do, besides, humping his thigh did sound kind of fun. You began to crawl around his tall form to the direction he was facing, squirming until you were up and under his arms. He clenched his jaw, ticked off but holding it together as he wrapped his arms around you and slid his thigh up between your legs and under the shirt he had given you too wear, pressing against your panties.

You shuddered slightly at the tiny bit of friction, arms sliding around his torso so you could grind down on his thigh easier. You began to rub yourself up and down on his thigh as he breathed softly in your ear, eyes closed and uninterested in what you were doing. Pouting, you continued to hump his thigh, deciding to let the whines building up inside of you flutter out of your lips.

He did do the gentlemen thing and tense up his thigh every once in awhile to help create more fiction between your pussy and his thigh.

“Ran…”,You moaned his name quietly, tugging his body closer, flushed to your own. It felt good despite the lack of help from Ran, it was just enough friction for your sweet clit to work with, filling you with a building feeling of pleasure.

Ran continued to ignore your whines, knowing you were close to cumming soon and he’d be able to get to rest, he could feel how wet you were through your panties, making his exposed skin sticky. He could care less though at the moment. He’d make you grab him a wet rag or something, you did owe him for letting you do this.

“Love you so much- thank you…”,You purred against his throat, body shuddering as you came in your cute panties on his thigh. Ran was kind of surprised by just how quick you had managed to get yourself off on him. It usually took him working that sweet cunt for a bit, but you had found release in minutes.

You moaned softly against his skin, clinging to him as your high slowly disappeared. It was kind of disappointing…it was such a small little orgasm and it hadn’t really satisfied you. You tilted your head up to look at your boyfriend, his eyes closed still.

“Ran….I need more…”,You mumbled.

And that’s how you ended up being literally dropped on the floor outside Ran’s room, door locking behind you as your boyfriend growled and slunk back to bed. You sat their in the hallway, in just his shirt, horny as hell and soaked before pathetically walking to the bathroom. You’d make him pay later when he was needing some help to get off…

#ran x you #ran x reader #ran fucking haitani #ran haitani #ran haitani smut #ran haitani x reader #tokyo rev x reader #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers smut #tokyo revengers x reader

940 notes · View notes

mikareo · 6 months

Text

⌗ SNOWDROP ₊ ˖ ་. nagi seishiro x fem reader (5.4k)

⊹ ⠀⠀ it's the end of the world and he's possibly the most unprepared person alive…perhaps he can rely on the pretty girl with perfect aim who just so happened to save his life at the very last second. he’s never been in love but maybe this love could last…so long as the both of you stay alive.

contains; resident evil inspired, badass agent!reader, helpless civilian!nagi, zombie apocalypse, guns, knives, blood, gore, swearing, angst, fluffy flirting, love at first sight, major character death, reo cameo!!!!, cannibalism (zombies) author's note; this fic destroyed my sanity, but i hope u like it! there are parts that are so unserious asjkl just trust me that it's a good read and pt2 is gonna be fucking crazy

⋆⋆⋆⠀ ⠀ videogame au milestone collab masterlist !

This can’t be happening. There’s no way this is actually fucking happening right now.

He’s sprinting at full speed, his laces are barely tied, and the smoke in the air is surely clogging his lungs into a blackened pulp of nothingness. To be quite frank, Nagi would rather have those poisoned lungs than discover whatever the hell happened to his neighbors down the hall…because damn they look like they’re in some rough shape. With their sunken eyes, flaking skin, and very obvious urge to suddenly turn to cannibalism, that’s not really his vibe…but that’s a falling telephone pole! Holy shit that’s a falling telephone pole coming straight his way in 3…2…1. JUMP!

Whew, that was a close one. Good thing he’s tall!

The shift in humanity didn’t exactly happen overnight. It was actually just twenty minutes ago when his peace was so rudely interrupted. There he was, snuggled up in his gaming chair with a fresh bag of Cool Ranch Doritos opened and ready to meet his belly, when he finally beat the last level of his new favorite game; only to discover that those screams of terror and fear…yea those weren’t coming from his PC and his living room window is now a pile of ash. Nagi doesn’t think he’s ever seen so much red and yellow in his life, all of it becoming one big blur of flames that he somehow jumped through and landed on the street below— thankfully he lives on the ground floor, otherwise his body would join his couch in a pile of broken limbs. Damn, this is all such a hassle.

No one would be able to guess what it was that caused this chaos…okay, actually it’s not too out of this world; just a commercial jet falling from the sky with a monstrous thing (??) crawling out of the window onto the streets of Tokyo, whilst an oddly green gas dilutes the air.

Yeah, not too crazy— but just crazy enough to make even Nagi Seishiro, laziest man on earth, leave the comfort of his homely apartment to find his neighborhood in complete and utter chaos. He even saw his delivery man devouring the convenience store owner that always gives him an extra bonus off his nightly midnight snack. Man, he loved that guy. That’s a sight that’ll make him shudder for years to come; assuming he can stay alive for the next however many hours and days this newfound apocalypse is going to take.

Nagi thinks it’s been nearly an hour since he started running and he didn’t even know he had this much stamina in him. Maybe he’s secretly a superhuman or another one of the monsters the city has been consumed by— or perhaps his adrenaline rush is nearly infinite since he’s never utilized it in his entire life. He’s not sure of the logistics. He failed high school biology…and chemistry…and physics. There’s a reason why he turned to gaming and shied away from college. This thrill and rush isn’t meant for him. He’s a couch potato that wants to do nothing but rot and enjoy the satisfying ding Twitch gives him whenever he receives a new sub. His generation needs instant gratification…and right now? Well, he’s in desperate need of some water.

Hesitantly, Nagi rounds into the glass doors of the nearest and safest looking building he happens to see— which is luckily a convenience store similar to the one near his apartment. He’s more than surprised when the automatic doors open in a pinch and he’s able to enter with no difficulty. The store is somehow in little disarray, with its grocery items on the shelves in their rightful spots and few sparse bags of chips laying on the tile floor. However, what is in disarray is the pharmacy section. There are drugstore pills scattered everywhere. He can’t even tell what kind of medications were being scavenged in a clear panic for medical amenities, and highly doubts that whoever was searching for supplies was able to get any with the state the back of the store is in. The font on the labels is so small that Nagi, the man who stares at a screen all day, can’t decipher what they say; and he’s assuming that whoever was in here is long dead and gone. But then again…

…he’s never been the kind of guy who’s always right.

“I come in peace!” His voice is two octaves higher than it normally is. If this were a choir audition, he’d absolutely ace it. “I swear I just came for some water! Please don’t kill me, zombie, please!”

Both of his eyes are shut whilst he awaits his inevitable demise, assuming that the unknown presence in the room likely has an appetite for human organs. There were so many things he wanted to do with his life…like ride a hot air balloon? Actually, that would be really hot if he were that close to the sun. Surf in the Caribbean? Ew, he could get bit by a crab. Get a girlfriend? He can’t complain about that one, that would be very very nice.

Oh no, he’s already getting eaten…he can practically hear her imaginary laughter already.

“Really? Those are your last words?”

Zombies can talk?

Nagi fearfully inches one eye open to see the most gorgeous person he thinks he’s seen in his entire life. Sure, you look a little disheveled— with your soaked hair and dirt-crusted skin— but to him, you look like something out of his imagination. The female protagonist that he could only dream about campaigning with in a first-person-shooter game, and would later search for a worthy poster to stick on his wall. If love at first sight is real, then this is definitely it. The only issue? Your barrel is pointing straight at his face.

“You’re going to shoot me?” He exclaims, scrambling to back up but ultimately tripping on his own laces and landing on his ass. “Ah shit, that hurts.”

Elegantly, you rush to his side. “You have injuries?” With eyes scanning over every inch of his body, there’s genuine concern dripping from your tongue like honey. Your voice is like a melody, oh man. Nagi thinks he’s a goner— not because he could be eaten by zombies, but because he feels like he’d jump in front of a moving bus to protect you. Pfft, and some protection he’s doing, embarrassing himself like this…

“Nope, nothing’s hurt…” he mumbles, sitting up with an attempted nonchalant look on his face. “...only my ego.”

A small smile reveals itself before him and your eyes crinkle as you let out a little laugh, and instantly he’s almost more obsessed with you. It’s as if you’re some higher being that he was blessed to see on his final day on earth, with golden rays radiating from your skin and big irises that he could drown in. Perhaps if it weren’t the end of the world, the two of you could’ve walked to this store together— holding hands and speaking softly about your shared interests and passions— and he could make you laugh a million times and more…now that he’s really thinking about it, you’re the first girl he’s made laugh probably ever and he really wishes there wasn’t a menacing zombie apocalypse getting in the way of his beautiful fantasy.

“I’m assuming you’re alone?” You stand up, looking down at him.

Alone as in single or…

“You don’t have any family that you escaped with?”

…okay not alone as in single. Got it.

“It’s just me,” Nagi stands to his feet and is loving your shocked reaction to his towering height. “My family’s overseas right now, so I think they’re alright. I mean, I hope they’re alright. I don’t have any service to reach them, right now. My phone is down.”

You nod, reaching in your bag for something he can’t quite see. What he can see, though, is the massive shotgun strapped to your back and three large cartridges hanging from your belt— somehow you’re able to carry all that and four grenades, two handguns, and six rolls of bandages in that pack of yours, which you lay out for him so lovingly on the floor.

“Take what you need.” Oh hell, what has he gotten himself into?

As he backs up cautiously, realization dawns upon your face. “You’ve never done this before have you?”

“Is living through a zombie apocalypse a common experience?” His mouth is agape. “Yeah, sorry…can’t say this isn’t the first time for me.”

A sigh slips from your lips and you gather your things, packing everything into your bag except for a standard handgun. Nagi can feel his heartbeat picking up as you take three steps closer to him. One. Two. Three. He wishes you’d chosen to take a fourth— that way you’d be nose to nose, he’d get to see your beauty up close, and then memorize the curves and features of your face— which he’d surely never forget as he’d think about them morning, night, and day. He’d love to fantasize about you for hours but you have other plans, dropping said standard handgun into his palms.

“Just aim for the head, okay?”

Um. No. Not okay.

“I don’t really shoot real guns…” he rambles, attempting to get rid of the deadly weapon you’ve so casually given him. “I’m more of a lover, y’know? Talk things out instead of shooting things in between their eyes? I like digital zombies! Yeah, those guys are chill…love ‘em so much…please take this away from me.”

You shake your head, already on your way out of the door. “Nope, you’re coming with me.”

“Why?” If this were a video game, there’d be a massive exclamation point flashing above his head, along with a grave that he could crawl into instead of joining you on this suicide mission. Being six feet under sounds pretty nice right about now…but he’s sure that the look you’re giving him is more deadly than any threat outside. “I don’t think I’m going to be much help to you.”

“Nagi, is it?” You clarify, to which he nods. “There are only two choices right now, and I know we just met but I’d rather you live than die. You’re tall. Your height is going to give you a range advantage when we’re out there, and I can already tell that you have great spatial awareness…not many people would’ve noticed me in the shadows. You know this area far better than I do, and sure, you’ve never held a gun before, but you’ve got to fight to live.”

As your voice continues in a soft-spoken tone, he’s mesmerized. “I want you to live, and I’m going to make sure you do.”

He can feel himself nodding along to your words— his heart getting lighter by the second, perhaps out of adrenaline but he’s going to believe it’s love. He needs something to look forward to when this is all over, if this is ever over, and that something is the image of you and him on a date. With you looking stunning in your favorite outfit and him hopefully looking better than he does right now…clear skies with the cicadas shushing themselves so he doesn’t miss a single thing you say…enough money in his bank account to cover anything and everything you wish for…and the biggest bouquet of your favorite flowers that he can find. What are your favorite flowers?

“Can I ask you something before I say yes?” Nagi’s voice is sweet, seemingly comforting you as your shoulders drop from their automated offensive stance. You look a little curious, likely assuming that he’s going to ask you some tips on how to shoot a gun— which he probably should if he’s being honest with himself, but that’s an issue that isn’t as important as his current curiosity. “Do you have a favorite flower?”

With teeth shining at him, he’s blinded by the overwhelming beauty you send his way and for the second time, he makes you laugh.

“My favorite flower? You’re so strange.” Overcome with a fit of giggles, he thinks that this is your first time laughing at something a man said as well. “Why do you need to know that? Are you asking me out or something?”

“I am.” He states bluntly and your cheeks flush red.

There’s a minute of silence between the two of you and each second is more excruciating than the last. With a heavy clock ticking in his ear, telling him that he’s made a fool of himself as the hand inches more and more to the left; he’s counting down his probable rejection as he’s just shot his shot in the middle of the end of the world. What a stupid decision. He knows his timing could be better— could be a lot better actually— and there’s a part of him that regrets even attempting…but none of that matters, because you’re smiling.

Maybe he makes you just as nervous as you make him…

“Okay Nagi,” you grin and adjust the shotgun strap across your chest. “If we both survive this, I promise I’ll go out with you…but I have some high expectations. I want the most expensive flower arrangement money can buy.”

“And what kind of flowers are you wishing for, gorgeous?” His voice is a sexy whisper, and Nagi didn’t even know he could be so seductive.

You jokingly roll your eyes at the pet name and toss him one of your inactive grenades, which he catches with ease, urging him to follow you into the chaos— but not before you give him the answer he so desperately desires.

“Snowdrops.”

There are two things that Nagi has realized in the past thirty minutes.

1.) He’s a lot more athletic than he thought he was.

Running for a half an hour straight is something that he never imagined himself doing— especially considering that he’s never stepped one foot into a gym in his entire life. What he originally thought to be clumsiness, turns out to be raw strength untouched. You were right to assume that his lengthy limbs would do him some justice in the fight for his life, and he’s thankful for his towering height as he’s blocked falling debris from smacking you atop the head nearly five times now; though, he did miss a flying sneaker that happened to nail you straight in the nose. He’s trying his best, give him a break.

2.) You might be a figment of his imagination.

Sure, this idea is likely false as he definitely felt your weight when you were sent flying from a stray hand grenade and landed on top of him, but you just seem so perfect. Getting to know you has been a dream come to life— though making conversation while running for his life isn’t the easiest feat, he’s managing. Some of the things you’ve told him do seem to be made up, though. For instance, you were the culprit behind the plane crash and while he’d love to picture a sunsetting sky with the two of you floating in the breeze, you’re not going to be piloting that jet. However, he has to give you a break because he’s never flown anything other than pixelated aircrafts, especially aircrafts that contain a deadly monster oozing toxic gas that turns people into zombies. Yeah, he couldn’t quite believe that either.

“On your left!” The sound of your voice snaps him back into focus and he realizes there are four zombified citizens barreling your way. “I could use some help here!”

You definitely don’t need his help. For God’s sake you have a shotgun the size of your leg that’s already mowed down three of them and Nagi’s just barely getting used to the sound of the bang. So far he’s pretty much been useless if not for letting you know what’s coming up in the distance, and also being the absolute last resort solution— which is rare, but oh shit it’s happening right now! You’re out of shells! How exactly does he fire this thing again?

Shakily, he attempts to point his handgun in the direction of the lone zombie bounding towards you. “Deep breaths, Nagi! Focus and aim!” Your words of encouragement are appreciated, but ultimately useless as he desperately starts stray shooting.

“Fucking aim!” You’re losing your patience for him so fast, to which he tries his best to calm down and breathe.

In and out.

His heart rate begins to slow.

Breathe and concentrate.

His eyes become unclouded by his anxiety, and his vision clears.

Lock on.

He has a mark on the target.

With his pistol’s aim assist shining against the zombie’s forehead, he confidently fires a single bullet. It soars through the air, squealing in its flight, and he lets out a sigh of relief…a sigh that he exhaled far too early.

Aw shit, he missed.

You grunt, bracing yourself against his bullet that ricochets off of the nearby telephone pole and grazes your right arm. He has a clear view of the scarlet blood dripping down your elbow and onto the pavement, and his heart feels heavy. He’s so fucking useless that he’s injuring you. Nagi doesn’t think it’s even possible to be worse at flirting than him; he can’t imagine that there are many guys who are accidentally shooting the girl they like, yet here he is.

Thankfully, you being the badass agent you are, you’ve managed to reload your eleven shells of ammo in the time it took for him to fire one bullet— and you easily dissolve the zombie to bits and pieces.

“Your aim can use a little work.” You snort, brushing your fingers against the small wound.

He rips the sleeve of his t-shirt off and attempts to wrap it around your arm. This is what you’re supposed to do, right? The only training he’s had in the medical field is from that one surgeon simulator game he played in middle school, and to be completely honest, it was a pretty good game! However, he’s definitely doing something wrong because you place your hand over his and show him how to properly treat an open wound. Normally, Nagi would be embarrassed that he’s failing so miserably right now— but honestly, the only thing on his mind is how this is the first time you’ve held his hand. He can’t tell if there are butterflies in his stomach or if the smell of blood is triggering vomit. Hopefully the former.

It’s no surprise that your perceptive self notices his focus on your intertwined hands, to which you take the lead and insist on pushing forward. “As romantic as this is, we should find some shelter before we get eaten in the midst of making out.”

Oh?

“You want to make out with me?”

Oof that slap hurt. His priorities clearly don’t align with yours.

“Okay, okay.” Nagi holds his hands up in surrender before you can smack his chest for a second time, and he’s finally able to notice your surroundings. Since when was the Mikage Buildingright behind you? Hm…the imminent fear of death must have distracted him. “My best friend’s family owns this tower here. I promise it’s safe.”

Your gaze narrows at the wall of glass windows that are seemingly spotless. There isn’t a single crack, faulty line, or zombie-sized hole that’s visible to the naked eye and he feels a little swell of pride for Reo’s family. Yeah, that’s right! My best friend’s parent’s architects are great at making buildings! It finally seems like he’s had his first good idea of the night, and Nagi couldn’t be more proud. Progress is progress (even if he shot you in the process)!

“It looks good.” You nod in approval and begin cautiously making your way towards the doors.

While following closely behind, he watches your back and ensures that there’s no one on your trail; which isn’t difficult in the slightest. Most of the civilians have died by now and you’ve already cleared every undead in the area…without his help. He doesn’t know how he managed to be so lucky that he ended up with you, but he’s grateful for every second— and now that you’re finally in his familiar territory, he can finally show you what he’s worth.

“There’s an elevator up these steps.” Nagi leads you up the grand staircase, remembering how he lazily trotted down it yesterday after Reo tried, once again, to convince him to join his football club. “I think it’ll work, I know they have emergency systems and everything.”

“I don’t know, Nagi…” your voice trails off, something amiss about it. “I just have a weird feeling about this place.”

“I promise Reo’s family’s going to take care of us, they’re the best.” He deflects your concerns, trusting that his friend will pull through and have some crazy solution to save the world. There’s never been a time where he couldn't count on Reo and as soon as you reach the top of these steps, you’ll agree. The text he sent out asking for help is almost delivered, just a few more seconds and that blue line will slide all the way to the right and Reo will be right down the elevator as soon as possible. 3…2…1…sent! There! You’ll both be saved!

But if Reo’s on the top floor in his room…why did his ringtone ding just meters away?

There’s a corpse laying in front of the elevator doors, mangled and bruised. How did Nagi not notice it before? Was he too distracted thinking of his closest and only friend he’s ever had? No way. The security team must have destroyed all of the zombies in the building already, he’s sure Reo and the others are fine— but why does that body look so familiar?

No.

It can’t be him.

Three steps away.

There’s got to be some kind of mistake here. A prank right?

Two steps away.

He can’t be dead. His best friend can’t be dead!

One.

“No…” With his voice trembling, he stands over his best friend’s body. Reo’s violet hair is drenched in blood, seemingly resembling the color of a plum rather than the typical lavender hue. If it were a normal day, Nagi would laugh at the awful color— telling his partner in crime that the shade didn’t suit him in the slightest and Reo would laugh in annoyance, aiming a ball straight for the taller boy’s head…but this isn’t a normal day. This is the end of the world; and that beautiful lavender flower that Nagi associated with his teammate is wilting. It’s dying. It’s dead along with the heartbeat within it. Reo is dead.

“Nagi. I need you to step back slowly.” He spins to see you with your barrel aimed at Reo’s corpse, but he can’t seem to move. It’s almost as if he’s been stunned, frozen in place with frostbite cementing his legs to the granite floors, and mouth encased in ice. He’s so overwhelmed that he can’t even open his mouth to give you a warning that there’s something moving behind you. Why can’t he speak? He needs to tell you! However, right when his teeth quiet their jitter, you’re tackled to the ground with a loud pummel.

Immediately, gunshots ring out in the grand hall. You’re firing in every direction in an attempt to blast off your opponent, but this zombie is particularly agile and you don’t have much room to move with your large shotgun…looking back in retrospect, giving Nagi your only handgun wasn’t the greatest idea.

“C’mon!” Repeatedly, you call out to him, but he remains paralyzed in fear. “Stop being useless!”

He watches as you struggle to wrestle off the infected woman, grunting and groaning with every punch you deal to its face. The skin on her cheeks is almost a greyish shade, discolored and decaying with a potent smell that burns his nostrils. It’s hard to tell who’s who under the blanket of shadows she’s trapped you under, but occasionally he catches a glimpse of golden eyes that tell him the zombie is still alive.

Somehow, with your almost supernatural raw strength, you’re able to hook your thighs around the zombie’s neck— pinning it down to the pearly floors and trapping it beneath your weight. It claws and cries out, desperately trying to escape your grasp, and Nagi almost feels bad for it. Just a few hours ago, this woman had a life. A real life that she likely looked forward to living every day; and now she’s nothing but a brainless carnivore with cannibalistic intentions. She could’ve been a mother. There could be a little boy out there missing her and waiting for her to come home, tell him that he’s safe, and that everything is going to be alright. When was the last time Nagi talked to his own mother? Why does he deserve to live and this woman doesn’t? Why is he so special that he was saved, while the rest of Tokyo was left to rot?

It isn’t fair.

None of it is fair.

He doesn’t deserve to live. He doesn’t deserve to be here.

He’s taken his life for granted from the moment he learned to walk. Why should you be wasting your time trying to get him to safety when he’s nothing more than absolutely useless? He needs to help.

He needs to be brave…

…but he misses his chance once more.

Letting out a wailing scream, you muster up enough energy to crush the woman’s head between your thighs, and Nagi is splattered with blood and guts. He doesn’t know how you’re so strong— it’s almost eerie in a way— but he’s more concerned with the state of your well-being. The look of exhaustion in your eyes acts as a glaring sun against his icy posture, and his feet are thawed from the floor, rushing towards you in mere seconds.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” he kneels on the ground before you and cups your face closely, “Hey— hey, don’t close your eyes. I’m right here. Please stay awake.” Nagi doesn’t think his voice has ever been so gentle nor has he ever felt this kind of worry for a girl before. Sure, he hasn’t known you for long, but he knows he can’t go on without you. You’re a team and a team sticks together. You can’t die right here! He’s not going to allow that!— but before he can lift you up like the knight in shining armour he wishes he could be, there’s a faint rustling behind him…a familiar rustling. Nagi knows that sound. He knows those movements. He’s heard them a million times and he’d be able to recognize them even in the midst of Shibuya Crossing in the busy hours.

Where did Reo’s body go?

Perhaps it dissolved or maybe it was kicked aside in the midst of your fight.

That has to be it, right? Where else could he be?

Nagi’s confusion is understandable. He’s thinking rationally given the circumstances and his heartbeat is somewhat steady. The mass of his body hovers over yours in a protective stance, like a dragon guarding a princess, and for once he appears to be confident. However, that confidence has been set aflame. He can feel his blood racing, burning through his veins in fear and distress, and he wishes he could simply rip his vitals from his skin to destroy the wretched emotions. The sight before him is something out of a horror movie…a horror movie where Nagi is the main character.

“Oh fuck.”

Reo leaps out of the shadows before Nagi can even react.

There’s a blur of hands and feet, hitting and kicking at each other, and the snow haired boy never knew he was this agile. Reo is clearly doing his best to hit Nagi’s vital arteries; to which he’s blocking each attack with his forearms. This is chaos. He doesn't even have a second to think for himself and consider the possibility of blasting Reo’s head off with his handgun. He can’t do that…this is his best friend!

As Nagi’s leg lines up to knock him off his feet, Reo lunges down and grabs a hold of it. In a panic, he attempts to shake his friend off— wiggling his leg up and down whilst reaching for his combat knife in his back pocket— and slices the skin in between Reo’s forearm and bicep…which is ultimately ineffective. Oh, shit he just got angrier! Growling, zombie-fied Reo clasps his hands around Nagi’s waist, lifting him off the ground with ease and throwing him into the elevator doors. The sound of his body slamming against the metal slab rings out, echoing in the grand foyer and deafening Nagi’s left ear. His breathing is heavy and he feels like he can’t get a single ounce of air in his lungs. Everything seems to be blurry, foggy with mist covering his irises as he attempts to see what’s right in front of him.

A carnivorous Reo…

…and an unconscious you.

It’s clear to him what’s going on. There are two outcomes to this horrific situation and whatever decision Nagi makes is going to impact the rest of his life.

1.) Let you go and join the afterlife with his best friend.

2.) Save you and never see his best friend again.

His heart is at war within himself. One side fighting for Reo, the boy he’s known for so long. The boy he’s laughed and cried with. The boy who knows everything about him. The boy who believed in him when no one else did…until you came along.

Just the thought of seeing your lifeless eyes, bloodied body, and severed limbs flips a switch inside him— and Nagi finally comes to realize what’s happening. This isn’t Reo. This shell of a man with a monstrous hunger isn’t his best friend. Reo is a ghost now. He doesn’t exist anymore and now his body is being possessed by the undead, or whatever zombies are. He can miss his friend all he wants, but that doesn’t change the fact that the thing creeping towards you is nothing but a stranger who knows all of Nagi’s secrets.

It’s time for him to fight to live.

As he swiftly stands and tackles Reo to the floor, a wave of memories flash before Nagi’s eyes.

The moment he first heard Reo’s voice. It was light and friendly. He had used a tone that Nagi hadn’t ever heard before, and although he had no interest in playing soccer, he still wanted to impress the popular boy— not because he wanted a higher status or a girlfriend, but because he knew this stranger needed a friend…and he really needed a friend, too.

His palms grip Reo’s throat, ripping him off of your body.

The first time Reo laughed at something he said. It wasn’t intended to be funny, but the plum-haired boy couldn’t help but burst into a fit of giggles and Nagi found himself laughing as well. Sitting in the school courtyard, side-by-side with crumbling onigiri falling from their mouths, there’s no doubt that they looked like two elementary schoolers finding humor in something obscurely immature— but despite that, it’s one of his fondest memories.

Reo struggles against Nagi’s weight, pinned to the floor with nowhere to run.

When he’d first shown him his concerningly large collection of video games, Reo hadn’t batted an eye. In fact, the very next day, Nagi received a friend request from him. Which seemed like a small act at the time, until he found out that Reo had gone to the tech store and purchased an entire PC set up just so he could be the Player 2 to Nagi’s Player 1. They were partners in both the real and virtual world— an unstoppable pair that won more tournaments as time went on— and Nagi will never clean out his xbox inventory filled with their trophies.

His finger grazes the trigger.

This is it.

No more memories.

It’s time to say goodbye.

In movies, when the protagonist has to kill their loved one, a single tear rolls down their cheek.

For Nagi, his face drowns in his cries.

“I’m sorry.”

He’s gone.

“I love you.”

Reo’s body dissolves into ash…

…then dust…

…then nothing.

“I’m so sorry.”

PART TWO COMING IN THE NEAR FUTURE (i’m a slow writer pls forgive me)

⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⊹₊｡ reblogs are greatly appreciated! ˚₊⊹

272 notes · View notes