#this is too simple crying sobbing screaming

[darkwolf989]

Can I request a girl dad Vox where his teenage daughter is going through her emo phase. at the same time going through puberty, and she's just at that stage where she's like "I hate you all" and it really hurts Vox because she's always been her little girl and maybe it ends with them making up and just being goofy like watching her favorite movies. Like super daddy's girl esk until then and his world just stops when she starts pulling away. I LOVE GIRL DAD VOX.

This was such a fun request! Thanks for sending!! <3

The attitude shift came overnight. Vox couldn’t pinpoint exactly when his daughter changed her nail polish from pink to black, or when she started to wear only the black pieces from her wardrobe. But he could absolutely remember the first time she snapped at him over a simple question. As she left the breakfast table and slammed the door shut behind her, Vox looked to Valentino and Velvette for guidance. 

“She’s growing up,” Velvette said through sips of her coffee. “Just be patient. Let her come to you and give her space.”

And so, Vox tried. I mean, honestly, he really did try. He let every snarky response, every too loud blast of music pass. Hell, the morning she woke up and poured herself a cup of coffee he almost blew a gasket. She was sixteen, she didn’t need coffee, he started to say, but Valentino cut him off and guided reader back to the kitchen. 

“Cream and sugar, little princessa, will help you get used to the taste,” Valentino said gently. 

Vox heard her mutter something he couldn’t quite make out but her tone certainly sounded rude. He stood up to scold her but Velvette grabbed his hand. 

“Pick your battles, Vox. This isn’t it.” Velvette said. “It’s only a phase.”

And so he gave her as much freedom as he felt he could while still being an active, involved parent. He kept on top of her grades and gave her the space she demanded and he thought for sure that respecting her privacy would get at least an “I love you Daddy,” on occasion. The most he got from her was a slightly less intense look of disdain every time he asked a question or a task of her. It seemed to him Daddy’s Little Girl was no longer. 

The hair dye was the final straw. Pretty brunette turned box dye black in a matter of hours. A bathroom splattered with splotches of black and a sink stained so badly Vox was sure it would never come out. Her beautiful brunette hair was now an odd shade of gray. He felt his anger grow as he saw the remnants of her activities and with a yell, he grabbed her by the hand and pulled her downstairs to Velvelettes studio. 

“Where did you even get this?” Vox asked in frustration as he watched Velvette’s assistant try to scrub the stains from behind her ears. “And why? You had such pretty hair!”

“Why does it matter?” She snapped. “I can do what I want with my body. You can’t stop me.”

“I never said you couldn’t! But you have an entire salon two floors below your bedroom, why didn’t you just say something?” He asked in exasperation as Velvette walked over. 

“Because it’s my body! I just wanted to do something on my own for once without everything questioning me!” She screamed. 

And then she burst into tears. Vox could feel his heart breaking at the sound and pushed the assistant away as he pulled her into his arms. He expected her to push him away, but instead she leaned into his shoulder and cried.

“And now I’m ugly, and my hair sucks and I just, I just…” she let out a hiccuping sob. 

Vox recognized that noise. Even in her teenage years, that cry hadn’t changed. He pressed his hand to the back of her head gently, ignoring the leftover streaks of dye that stained his hands. 

“Hey, hey baby girl. It’s alright, Auntie Vel will get your hair fixed up,” he said as soothingly as he could. 

Velvette glanced up from behind the counter and took her place behind the chair. She gave Vox an encouraging look. 

Vox took a deep breath. Pick my battles, he thought to himself as he held his not so little girl anymore. 

“And I’m sure she’ll dye it black if that’s what you really want,” he conceded finally. 

Another sniffle from the face tucked into his shoulder. 

“Really, you’d let me do that?” She asked as she leaned back and rubbed at her eyes. 

“Only if you promise never to use box dye again,” he replied lightly. “The bathroom is a mess. We might have to repaint the entire thing.” 

She let out a ghost of a smile and he gently dabbed her eyes.

 “There there. No more tears. It’s okay.”

“Daddy? Can I ask you something?” She asked as Velvette quietly took her place behind the chair and began to work her way through the half brunette streaks of hair. 

“Anything, sweetheart.”

“Can…can we redo my room? I don’t want it pink anymore.” She said softly. “Please don’t be mad.”

He could feel his heart breaking for the second time that day, this time for an entirely different reason. She thought he would be mad at her? He tried to think back to when she would get that idea and quickly concluded now wasn’t the best time to analyze his own behavior. Not when he had those pretty blue eyes watching him, waiting desperately for a response. 

“Sure baby girl,” he replied with a kiss to her forehead. “How about we get your hair fixed up and then you and I can do some shopping and redesign the whole thing together tonight? How’s that sound?” 

Her eyes lit up. “That would be amazing! Thank you, Dad!” She stood up from the chair threw her arms around him. 

Velvette gave Vox an approving smile.

“Alright then you two, let's get to work so you guys can go have some fun!” She said cheerfully. 

A few hours later, Vox watched as reader admired her reflection in the mirror. Somewhere, it pained him that she wanted to run so far in the opposite direction. He wondered what he had done to lose her trust.

“Don’t take it personally,” Velvette said softly to Vox as he watched reader run her fingers through her hair. “She’s just trying to find her place in the world.”

“What do I do about the bedroom? I can’t have it all black, it would look awful.” He replied, “but unless I give in…”

“Boundaries, Vox. It’s a reasonable give and take. Sure, painting her entire room back would look awful. And It’s okay to hold an expectation and come to a compromise. Some part of her still wants to know you care about her. She’s just testing her limits. All teenagers do.” Velvette added. “But I would start with designing together on one of you computers and go from there.”

Several hours, zero tears and one phone in pizza order later, Vox and reader sat on the couch. For the first time in a long time, reader was in hysterics as they watched her favorite movie together.

“Hey, Dad?” She asked once she collected herself enough to speak. “I love you.”

Vox tried to keep his cool, but his heart soared. “Love you too,” he replied. He leaned over and kissed her forehead. “No matter what happens, I’ll always be your dad.”

#the vees #valentino x reader #hazbin fluff #hazbin hotel #valentino #vox x reader #the vees x reader #valentino hazbin hotel #hazbin vox #hazbin hotel vox #vox hazbin hotel #vox #voxval #hazbin hotel valentino #hazbin hotel velvette #hazbin velvette #velvette x reader

[frazzledazzlin]

what 40c does to an mf

#this is less effort than where i turned them into catmen. help me #i spent i think half day on that and half day on this too #im losing my touch i need to animate more often #this is too simple crying sobbing screaming #animation #scriboozles #thsc #the henry stickmin collection #right hand man reborn #reginald copperbottom #rhm #it was so fucking hot i tunnel visioned into just focusing on this rest of the evening #i am not drawing until 2 days later now (famous last words before one draws again till hand starts aching)

[libbyfandom]

“In This Life, and the Next. I Swear.”

Happy Holidays, have a bittersweet reincarnation fic.

Summary: Mizu may not believe in reincarnation, but you do. You'll believe in it enough for both of you. You may not be strong, but your soul is. You'll carry her to a better lifetime.

Content Warnings: Did your really think no one would die in a reincarnation fic? Hmmm?

“Next lifetime, you have to court me,” you murmur into Mizu’s neck as her fingers trace along the bare skin of your back where you lie atop her. “None of this... stoic loner act where I have to wear you down into letting me love you. Yeah?”

Mizu snorts, her other hand resting over her eyes. “Not on your life.”

Making an offended noise, you bite her collarbone in retaliation, hearing her laughter fill the inn room.

“When we come back, I want our lives to be simple,” you say as Mizu helps you down from the horse you borrowed on your escape from the last town.

Resisting the urge to let a sigh slip at this fantasy coming back up again, she mutters, “Yeah? You’d prefer to have a boring life, after you basically attached yourself to me and Ringo to escape your home?”

“Well yeah, I’m getting all of my adventuring done in this life cycle.”

“And you don’t want that again?” Mizu starts to lead the horse toward the outer skirts of the city, hoping to find a stable to leave it without being spotted.

You walk alongside her, studying her passive expression. “I do." A beat. "But I want you to have peace more.”

Her eyes dart to you, genuinely caught off guard. The openness, the honesty in your face has a bubble of overwhelming emotion welling up in her chest.

Her head turns back to the road, retreating into her silence to avoid speaking and risking her voice betraying her.

But after a few minutes of her staring off into the distance, she quietly says with a softened brow, “That’s kind.”

‘Do you regret choosing this life, knowing how quickly it will all end? Or did you walk into it blindly, optimistic for some happier resolution?’

Mizu jerks you up into her arms, apologizing frantically over and over as you scream in pain when she applies pressure to the stab wound deep in your stomach. She tenses her grip as your body tries to seize and jerk away from the splitting, hot pain radiating through your nerves from pressure on the gash. You’re too scared to look down and see your own insides peeling away from each other.

Taigen and Ringo are fending off the last few bounty hunters, the clashing of swords and knives fading into the background as you dig your bloodied fingers into her haori. “Come find-find me again,” you say with frantic eyes, swallowing back another mouthful of metallic blood forcing its way up your burning throat.

“What?!” Mizu’s attention is torn between keeping an eye on her back and wrapping a torque around your middle from the fabric she torn off your kosode.

You grab her face, leaving a bloody streak on her cheek as you force her to look at you. Her widened blue eyes are forced to look into yours with no barrier, her glasses lost somewhere in the snow from the fight. You can feel how fast your body is losing warmth. The edges of your vision are blurring, and the draw to fall asleep is growing more powerful than the burning gap in your stomach. Mizu may not know how to die, but you-

‘I’m so sorry, my love. I’m so, so sorry.’

You need her to hear you before everything stops. So you grip her cheek and stare into her panic-stricken eyes. You’re scared too, but you’re more scared of coming back to this world and not seeing her again than you are of not coming back at all.

“Come find me again.”

Mizu hates the concept of promises, and the bigger and more impossible they sound the more she avoids them. But you nose is turning pink from the cold, or from your crying. Tears are trailing down the sides of your temples, cutting through any blood stains across your face.

And she hates promises.

Tears well in her own eyes as she clenches her teeth against a violent sob.

But she hates denying you proof that she loves you more. If you pass without it… if you die with the last words in your ears being 'I can't'…

Every whisper and cry of “Onryō” she’s ever heard echo louder and louder in her head until they're all scream chanting in unison. She blinks, and for a heart-freezing moment your terrified eyes turn her shade of blue.

“Onryō!”

“ONRYŌ!”

"𝔬n҉𝔯y҉𝔬o҉𝔫r҉𝔶o҉𝔬n҉𝔯y҉𝔬o҉𝔫r҉𝔶o҉𝔬n҉𝔯y҉𝔬-"

Her hand lifts away from the rapidly growing stain of blood coming through the makeshift torque across your abdomen and settles on your cheek.

She forces the corners of her mouth up into a reassuring smile as her own body trembles.

“Okay,” her voice wavers as she blinks out tears. “I’ll come find you.” Her voice is like a child making their first vow. “I’ll, I’ll come find you again.”

You smile weakly, and despite her own forced one, her eyes fill with terror for just a moment at the blood staining your teeth.

You reach up and tug her hair out of its high bun, watching it tumble around her shoulders.

You need your soul to memorize what she looks like when she’s not hiding. For next time.

Your own smile wavers. “You have to. I won’t… I won’t forgive you if you don’t.”

The fragile look on her face crumples into despair. Mizu leans her temple against yours as the sobs overtake her, her long hair draping over both of your faces and blocking out the world. “I will. I will I will I will I will I-“

Her fractured voice fades away, and your vision swims.

But your soul is at peace.

‘It's your turn, Mizu.’

‘I ended up burying you with as many red spider lilies I could scavenge. They’ll help guide you to the next life. I made Ri( ) swear to bury me next to you with just as many. If he’s around to collect my corpse when I go. If anyone is. ( )I used to not care if anyone did, as long as I finished my mission. But now I’m terrified something happens and I can’t keep my promise.

I’m sorry. I miss you. I’m sorry I made a promise that’s out of my hands.

( )

I’m sorry.’

You stare down at the spread of papers and antique diaries written in kanji. You’re trying to organize them by chronological order based on context from the letters and diaries, but it’s becoming increasingly difficult as you go. Especially with words smudged and faded by centuries of time. You rub your eye behind your glasses.

‘She really is making this hard for me.’ You sigh through your nose as you bite down on the end of your pen.

“Excuse me?”

“Hm?” You glance to your side, surprised to be pulled from your work and come face to face with probably the most gorgeous woman you’ve ever seen. “Hello?”

“Sorry,” she smiles, lowering her head to pull her tinted glasses off. “I just saw you over here and uh-“ her expression goes a little strained as she looks for the right words. “I just, uh-”

You glance between her and the spread of antique writing from the archives. “Are you the person that checked these out last? Do you need them back?”

“No. I just-" She makes a face. Whatever she planned to say when she came over was quickly unraveling. Her eyes dart away, and land on the diaries. Her eyebrows furrow slowly, something flickering in her blue eyes.

Very pretty eyes…

She jerks her chin down at the spread of papers. “What is that?”

A little thrown off at the changes in conversation, you pick up one of the diaries. “Um, this is work for my master thesis. I’m studying unknown woman and queer history of Edo Japan.” Your fingers drum over the cover. “Came across this treasure when going through the archives. It’s a bunch of writing from a rogue swordsman to his lover after her death. But in my review of it, I’m positive I can prove that he was actually a woman,” you grin a little with pride, shifting your weight side to side with delight at getting to discuss your research.

“Lesbian samurai,” she laughs lowly, eyes warm.

“Something like that,” the corners of your lips lift up.

“Well that’s really fascinating,” her fingers trail across the edge of the table as she steps closer. “I’d love to hear more about it. Maybe… over dinner?” The corner of her mouth grimaces for a moment, her eye twitching once with frustratation at herself with that cheesy delivery.

Your lips part, eyes widening with a breathless little “Oh.”

The woman gains confidence from how your eyes light up behind your glasses as you flush. Her hand squeezes her shoulder, a nervous tic. “I’m sorry. I saw your over here and had to give it a shot.”

“No, I’m glad you did,” you’re quick to reassure her. You look up at her with bright eyes as you dig through your backpack for notebook paper.

“I wouldn’t have forgiven you if you didn’t.”

A tilt of her lips, her hand outstretched. “Mizu.”

You introduce yourself.

You hold out the pen and paper to get her number, and she asks as she leans over to scribble it out on the table, “Anything good in those letters?”

“Most of it’s pretty grief heavy,” you smile sadly. “But in a poetic and romantic way? Like, even though her love was gone, probably pretty young, she kept her memory alive as she fought through life.”

Mizu glances up at you, and something tightens in your throat and sinks into your stomach. You don’t know why you admit quietly, “The first time I read them I started crying in the archive room.”

A beat, where you feel dread creep up your neck at suddenly tanking the mood.

Her face grows impassive, deadly quiet for a moment.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers.

You quickly blink back tears that come on alarmingly fast. “What?”

Mizu blinks too, straightening up. “Just, sorry that it made you sad. I guess.” She smiles again, albeit a little smaller this time, and hands over the paper. “I guess I’ll see you? Hopefully soon?”

A soft laugh huffs out your nose as that melancholic moment passes. “Yeah,” your hand brushes against the inside of her palm as you take the paper. “Really soon.”

She leaves you with a satisfied grin, her nose scrunching up as she turns and walks off.

You watch her go, feeling something tighten in your stomach again at how relaxed she looks.

You look down at her number, and see that she slyly signed it with the kanji for “Promise”.

As you begin to organize the letters to skim through them again, your hesitate on the one you had just been reviewing. You hold it and the notebook paper up side by side.

The letter unfolds and a single, dried, book pressed red spider lily flutters to your feet.

Mizu perfectly copied the handwriting of the swordswoman’s kanji.

“Huh.”

#mizu x reader #blue eye samurai x reader #mizu #modern mizu #mizu blue eye samurai #blueeyesamurai

[httpsghostie]

Beneath the Surface

Part one

Part two

A/N: First post! English isn't my first language so I'm sorry in advance if there's anything wrong with the writing.

Can't stop thinking about this man, it's unhealthy at this point

Brought you something filthy, hope you enjoy

Requests are open and appreciated!

Summary: Simon, your father's best friend, shows up in the middle of the night to give you a shoulder to put your legs head on.

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: smut, Simon 'Ghost' Riley x female!reader, unprotected sex (don't b silly wrap your weenie), p in v, implied age gap, choking, breeding kink (?

masterlist

NSFW below the cut

It had been an exhausting day and you felt like everything just decided to go wrong, all in one day. It started small, your sleeve getting caught in the door handle when you were cleaning the house, then it became a snowball. Accidentally hitting your foot on the corner of the bed, stumbling on the bucket and falling over it, spilling the dirty water all over the floor. At the end of the day you were overwhelmed, even the shower decided not to work properly, and you couldn't stand being near anything that could breathe. 

But there you were, endlessly trying to achieve the perfect eyeliner look because your college friends wanted to party. Failed attempts and sore eyelids lead you to a breakdown, and your attempts were soon washed away by your tears. Everything was too much and you just wanted a good night of sleep on a simple friday night. You sobbed in the bathroom as you tried to calm down, but your eyes were puffy and your face was swollen. The makeup was left on the bathroom sink and you went straight to your room to put on something more comfortable. 

Your parents weren't home, somehow when your dad was around he'd take your mom on late night dates. Simon, on the other hand, didn't have a wife or kids to come home to, and being your father's best friend, you probably saw the man even more than you saw your dad. He was almost always around when he was deployed, he had the keys to your parents house and he'd just show up. 

That wasn't exactly the best moment for him to appear in your living room when he realized the scream you let out. "Sorry, didn't mean to scare 'ya" he said. The room was lit by the TV screen and hopefully he wouldn't see your crying face. You sigh and walk to the kitchen, looking for something to eat, you end up making some popcorn and when you sneakily try to go straight back to your room, a cold hand grabs your arm. 

"Spit it out" he said. He knew you, usually you were happy and outgoing around him, and now you were just irritated and, of course, he couldn't comprehend. Your father didn't know but you were really close to Simon, he was kinda the cool uncle while your actual dad was strict and kind of annoying sometimes, Simon really made your high school years better just by being around when he could. 

"Not your business" you said, storming out. He followed your steps to your room, where you sat down on the bed and pulled a blanket over your legs, the bag of popcorn on your lap. He stood by the door frame, leaning against it, arms crossed as he eyed you. 

"Someone's grumpy" he tsked. "Come on, love, tell me what's wrong" he said as he came into the room and closed the door behind him. Something about him calling you love always caught you off guard, but now that you were in fact an adult with full knowledge of your feelings and needs, it made your stomach flip. 

"Nothing, Simon" you rolled your eyes at him as he sat in front of you on the bed. He made you a confused frown and laid a gentle hand on your knee. You could never keep things from him, his gaze burned you inside whenever he felt you were lying. "Just.. bad day, ok?" You sigh. 

"Bad day, huh?" You felt him mocking, but you couldn't care. "Elaborate." It felt so stupid to be angry because all the small things went wrong during the day, when you knew he had bigger problems to deal with in whatever army life he signed up for. 

"Everything went wrong today," you start, "I don't know, everything was either irritating me or hurting me, I even spilled the dirty water on me and the clean floor-" he cuts you off, laughing, you give him a killing stare. He holds the bridge of his nose and makes a disgusted face. 

"Have you showered?" His mood lightens you up and you chuckle, pushing him playfully. 

"Yes, I've showered." You say. "Cold shower, by the way." 

"What's wrong with the shower?" He asks and you shrug. "Aye I'll take a look at it later, 'k?" You nod. "Anything else that's bothering you?" God, it's like he could see through you. 

"I was going out with my friends," you explain shyly, "I couldn't finish my makeup and got frustrated, so I texted them saying I was sick." 

"And are you?" He tilts his head at you, you shake your head. "Why did you lie then, huh?" 

"Look I don't need a lecture on what to do, alright, Si? I just need to rest." The bag of popcorn on your lap became cold when you first took a handful to eat. 

"Want a massage?" He smirked. Of course you wanted a massage from those big, calloused hands of his that would fit perfectly around your neck. You stared at his hand and bit your lower lip, nodding. 

He gently pulled the blanket down from your legs and adjusted himself. You turned the TV on and he started to massage your feet. You let out a soft whimper as he ran his fingers against your skin, just now noticing how he shifted uncomfortably under your calves. 

Of course there was one more thing your dad didn't know: how touchy his best friend was with his daughter. You could say it was because he was a skirt chaser, or probably just touch starved, but the explanation didn't matter when his hand was traveling up your thigh under a blanket when you and your family were trying to watch a movie together. It was never more than this though, occasional touches that left you aching for him, hot and bothered. 

A movie played on the screen as he continued to massage your feet. There was something so sexual about him, the flexing muscles on his arm, his chest going up and down with his breathing, the growing bulge on his pants you could feel with your ankle and made a pool of arousal on your panties. 

Your shorts were... well, short, and he couldn't help but stare at you while you closed your eyes and imagined that monster of a man pinning you down and fucking you rough. More hums and soft whimpers escaped from your throat and they were going straight to Simon's dick. A malicious hand caressed your inner thigh and you opened your eyes with a confused, but hopeful look. He wasn't looking at you, and your stomach dropped when you saw a sex scene playing on the screen. You close your legs unsubconsciously and he looks at you. 

"'M sorry, love" he takes his hand off your thigh and chuckles. The nickname sent you over the edge, something snapping inside of you. He feels the way you shiver and how tense you seem, so he takes that bag of barely touched popcorn and places it by the bedside table and then land a warm hand on your waist. "What's on your mind, princess?" 

Well, nothing besides him naked, wasn't it obvious? But you couldn't say that, your mind was racing back and forth, and when you were unable to form a believable sentence, he caught you staring for too long. 

"Cat got your tongue?" He chuckled as his fingers traced circles on your waist. You can't remember the last time he tried doing this to you, but you know damn right you should've taken the chance to get laid, but God was it hard to understand this man. He'd tease you and pretend it was nothing, he'd leave you begging for him and say he couldn't touch you. Sometimes you just wanted to punch him for that. 

And yes, you found other ways to get satisfied. Got yourself a boyfriend during recess when neither Simon or your dad were around to pester the poor guy. But eventually they came home from wherever they were, and your father wasn't exactly happy about it, nor Simon, in fact, Simon was even more pissed than your dad. 

You couldn't say how many minutes you spent eyeing the man in front of you, but he grew impatient. The hand on your waist was gone and now spreading your legs to his liking, his body now towering over you. 

"If you don't tell me what's going on in that pretty little head of yours I'm gonna have to find out for myself." He said in a low, seductive voice. 

You gave in. Your hands grabbed the back of his neck and you kissed him feverly, a sloppy, wet kiss, he pressed his body onto yours and you could feel how hard he was on your lower body. But Simon was eager, he couldn't wait for it anymore, he needed to be inside of you. 

He yanked your shorts off, throwing it somewhere across the room, you also took his shirt off, revealing his perfect toned muscles and the scars that adorned it. He unbuckled his belt with one hand as the other one successfully removed your shirt. He didn't even bother taking his pants off, he just pushed them and his boxers down enough to let his dick free. He aligned it with your wet cunt, smearing your arousal all around your folds. 

"'S fucking wet already, huh?" He rubbed two fingers on your clit as he jerked himself off with his spare hand. "Can't imagine what you were thinking 'bout" he smirked. 

He put his tip on your entrance, looking at you for a sign of approval. You nod. He slowly pushed his length inside of you until it bottomed out. You clenched around him as you moaned. His body started moving faster as you adjusted to his size. He was big, you've felt it before with your hands, but you've never actually seen it. 

"Fuck, Si," you moan, "faster." You sounded like a desperate whore and he enjoyed it. You weren't exactly used to him not teasing you until you were on the verge of tears, so when he started to pound into you, you couldn't hold your moans. 

"Needy little slut." He grabbed your hips in place, almost using you like a fleshlight. He groaned, his chest rising with the heavy breathing. Fuck, that man was hot. 

His hands let go of your hips and held the back of your knees, so you were spreading even more. He watched as his dick abused your swollen and wet cunt, and he could cum just at the sight of his pretty princess getting ruined by his fat cock. You felt the cold metal on his belt hit the back of your thighs as he gave you deep thrusts. 

One of his hands traveled to your folds, his thumb drawing circles on your sensitive clit. As he was fucking your brains out, you dig your nails on his shoulders and earned a few moans along with a smirk. 

You were both really close when you heard a car park in the driveway, your eyes widened at Simon as he didn't seem to have listened to the sound of your parents getting home. 

"Fuck, Simon, my parents" you tried to push him away but his grip on you got stronger. He placed both of his hands on your neck and squeezed it. 

"Shut up" he whispered, not altering his pace. "Cum f' me, love" he demanded. Your hand rubbed your clit as he fucked you even harder. It was impossible to hold it back anymore and you reached your climax under him, your legs shaking from the overstimulation of his non-stopping thrusts. You heard the front door getting open. "'M gonna fill this pretty cunt of yours, huh? 'S that what you want?" He whispered in your ear. You could only slightly nod. "Good girl." He gave you a few more deep, shaky thrusts as he spilled his load into you and pulled out. 

"Y/n? We're home" you heard your mom shout from downstairs. Simon quickly pulled his pants up and put his shirt back on, throwing you your shorts that were across the room, tossed on the ground. He quickly got out and went to the bathroom, pretending he was fixing the shower. 

"Simon?" Your dad shouted in a worried and anxious tone, he obviously saw his friend's car in the driveway, and what was his friend doing here in the night when his daughter was alone? 

"Here" he shouted back from the bathroom, your dad ran upstairs to check if everything was alright and found Simon trying to fix the shower. 

"Everything alright? Heard noises" your dad asked. 

"Y/n gave me a call, she wanted to shower but apparently the shower wasn't working" you overheard Simon explain. He stepped out, turned it on and let the water run for a bit. "It's working now." 

You have absolutely no clue what the fuck he did with the shower in such a short period of time, but the effort was well appreciated. He tried to excuse himself out, but your dad insisted for him to stay the night. You waited in your room until your parents went to bed to get out, the back of your thighs were marked from his belt and your neck was red from his grip, not to mention the oozing cum on your thighs that your panties and shorts weren't able to hold. 

Simon was in the guest room when he heard you walk to the bathroom to get yourself cleaned, and of fucking course he wouldn't let you do it alone, he's finally got a taste of you after all these years holding back and he won't stop until he's fucking his cum inside you again as the running water muffles the sounds of how good he makes you feel.

#cod mwii #cod mw2 #ghost cod #simon ghost #cod x reader #cod fanfic #cod smut #simon ghost riley #simon ghost x reader #simon riley #ghost x reader #ghost smut #mw2 fanfic

[scar-lie]

Save us [Natasha & Scarlett]

Summary : You're tired of fighting, you're losing hope and giving up for your relationship with your two girlfriends who don't want to fight for you

Pairing : Natasha Romanoff x Female!Reader, Scarlett Johansson x Female!Reader, Natasha Romanoff x Scarlett Johansson

Warning : Arguing

Word count : 1,723

No one has permission to repost my work anywhere, if you see it please let me know.

You rub the side of your eyes, getting stressed by the endless argument you have had with your two girlfriends for four years now, and you're losing hope; you're losing everything you have to give for them the further you three argue.

You're getting tired and drained from giving all you have to them without receiving anything back. It feels like you're playing house with them, where they're going to need to go or get tired; they’ll just leave without considering you or your feelings, while you're left without anyone but your thoughts.

“Why can't you fucking understand that?! There are things that're more important than staying here. To what? ...to stay here, so you wouldn't mope around about how sad you are alone! "Natasha screamed, getting frustrated and irritated by the simple things you're asking, and so was Scarlett.

“I do; I do understand what you're pointing at, but you're not listening." You quickly shut your mount when Scarlett interrupts you, so you put your hand to your face, covering how broken you are.

“I act for a living, Y/N. This is what I do before you come into my life; this is my life. I can't just say to them, "Sorry, I’m going to be gone for a week or two; my girlfriend wants me to stay in.” That's not how fucking works.” They are ready to leave, bags already packed, already dressed up; only this argument is making them stay.

“And I save lives for living, so I can't just stop taking a break; just fucking think before you become selfish,” Natasha screamed, slamming the door shut on her way out.

“Not everything is in your favor, not because you're our girlfriend; you can just decide or dictate what we're going to do; you're just our girlfriend,” Scarlett followed suit, leaving you completely alone in your shared home, the one they bought because of how welcoming it is, how the house welcomes the natural light, how peaceful the place is, the big backyard where you're obsessed with growing flowers, fruits, and vegetables—this house is just perfect for their liking and yours. That's why they surprised you with the house.

This is your mark of a happy life ahead of you, and this is the house. That's why they surprise you with the house. “This is our mark of a happy life ahead of us,” “and this is our house that we will make happy memories,” they quote.

But now you're asking yourself if this house makes you three happy anymore—the same house the three of you are planning to have a family with and grow old with until your grandchildren drag your ass out to the backyard to play or do something interesting.

You're losing hope that this relationship will be the same; you're falling into a deep hole further and further down until you reach the peak, where there's no way out if you keep pushing yourself to them.

You're body collided in the soft mattress, your sobs are getting muffled by the pillow you're hugging—their pillow to be exact—soaking it with your tears, all the pent-up frustrating, sleepless nights, the feelings you're bottling are now erupting, making your body shake while crying, not caring if the neighbor can hear you—it's just all too much.

You have nothing else to give anymore; you're drained and done with months of arguing and please them to give you at least a little bit of their time, to put you in their first priority. You're tired of forgiving them over and over again, and you don't think you can open the door to let them in one more time. You have no cards to give to them anymore; all the best cards are already used.

They are again saying how sorry they are and how they are going to make it up to you—key word make-up "sex"—through text the next day, but you can't find any word to reply, so you stick with “ok, it's fine," laying your phone face down on the couch while watching some random movies, rom-coms, TV series, or just anything that can pass your time since you don't have anything to do.

But this doesn't sit right with Natasha and Scarlett, waiting for further massages that never come, or maybe they are waiting for your caring self to text them how they are doing, asking if they already eat or how's their day, or maybe they are waiting for your rambling or complaining about how’s your day goes, or how boring it is that your friends are being bitchy on the internet.

but that never came even in the following days; all they got was a short reply and a cold shoulder, making them uneasy through the next few weeks until they got home, worried and hopeful that once they step in the front door, you're going to throw yourself into them like you always do.

"Darling, we're home! "Natasha and Scarlett shout, dropping their bags in the hallway and locking the door.

“In the lounge,” you reply back, not bothering to stand up to great them properly, you're just sitting there in front of a TV while scrolling through social media.

“Hey, there's no kisses or hugs? "Scarlett sat down next to you, so you kissed her on the cheek, doing the same thing to Natasha when she sat on the other side, mumbling, “Welcome home,” then go back, scrolling down through your phone.

"Hey, stop giving us a cold shoulder; we're here. Isn't that what you want? "Natasha whispers softly, caressing your exposed thigh while trying to read you while Scarlett lays her head on your shoulder. The moves you know from the back of your hand indicate they want sex.

“I’m not in the mood.” You push Nat's hand and Scar's head gently, then stand up, going up to your shared bedroom.

“I think we should give her some space for now,” Scarlett whispered, following you with her eyes and sighing in frustration.

“She's just being dramatic, Scar; she's come running to us eventually,” Nat dismissed, going in the kitchen to drink some water and hoping there's food but finding nothing, so she looked back, giving Scarlett a smile, shaking her head while chuckling.

“Fine, what do you want? "Nat gives her a smirk, knowing her way to get her to cooking.

" Pasta, please” With that, they both chat in the kitchen, catching up and having a little fun like they always do right before you come on the picture.

Hearing them giggling and chuckling from the bedroom makes you hate yourself because they are happy without you, they can go to their day without you, and you hate how they can just continue their day without bothering if you're okay or include you.

So in the end, you just move to the farthest room, which is the guestroom. You three didn't use it much, but these past few months, Natasha and Scarlett have usually used it since you three were always arguing and they ended up sleeping in the guestroom while you're alone in your shared bedroom.

But as each day passes, you're feeling yourself uninterested. Sure, you three interact, but not like before, and today is another argument in Natasha and Scarlett’s minds since they need to go again.

“We're heading out now; be safe here.” Natasha kisses your forehead, followed by Scarlett, and you hum, continuing to read your book.

"Ok,” you simply reply, which sends a shiver down their spine.

“Ok? Aren't you going to tell us how workaholic we are? How come we don't spend time here anymore? Leaving you alone, aren't you going to ask us to give you some of our time? "Scarlett frowns while standing, and Natasha thinks the same way, waiting for your answer.

"No,” you're unbothered; not even a single emotion is showing in your face; you're just calm.

“Why? "You shrug at Natasha's question, turning to the next page.

“Why? "You chuckle sarcastically, making Scarlett uncomfortable, shifting from one foot to another and picking her skin, making Natasha step forward to stop her from getting herself hurt.

“You mean ‘begged you for your time? ’, what's the point? To make myself look desperate? Needy? Selfish? Self-centered? "You shake your head with a scrawl face.

“No thanks, plus whatever I say or do will never stop you from leaving or doing what you want; if you want to leave, then go leave; I don't care anymore.” Their hearts both sank down to the pit of their stomachs.

“Like you always say, what you do is more important than being with me for a few minutes, so I’m saving both of you and me the energy you needed for something and time.” Scarlett held Natasha's arm tightly, finding herself starting to have an anxiety attack, but Natasha was rubbing her back. Natasha felt hurt and worried that they pushed you too far.

Sure, she dearly loves Scarlett. I mean, they're already in a relationship when you join the couple, but that doesn't mean she loves you any less. You're the heart of this house; you're keeping them in their toes; you're their center; you're their foundation that's keeping everything in their surroundings magical; you're their Alice in their Wonderland; the apple in their eyes; their home in their heart; and their key to their locks.

In short, they couldn't function without you; you're the center of everything to them, so this makes their world turn upside down, but in a bad way.

“I-I wanna stay……I-I’ll just call to have at least 2 weeks leave,” Scarlett mumbles, getting lost of words, and all she can think about is being with you, to cuddle you, kiss you, hug you, and just be with you, and so does Natasha.

‘I-I wanna….stay too,” but before they can dial a number, you quickly stop them.

“Oh no, please don't. Don't let me hold you back. Just because I speak what's on my mind, please do leave and go on with your week.” You give them a tight smile, then go back to reading.

But the two shake their heads no, wanting to be as close to you as possible, but before they can approach the bed, their whole world crashes into pieces.

“Besides, I’ve fallen out of love.”

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanova #natasha x reader #natasha x y/n #black widow #black widow 2021 #marvel black widow #natalia alianovna romanova #natasha x you #natalia romanova #scarlett x reader #scarlett johansson fanfic #scarlett johansson fanfiction #scarlett #scarlett x y/n #scarlett johansson #angst

[ruskaroma]

thinking of pissing john wick off so fucking bad that he fucks you into the fucking wall🤤🤤 he’d been so patient with you, but you just kept pushing his buttons so here you are, his hand clamped over your mouth as he fucks you full of his cum….

everybody pull up a chair cuz we are going to have a talk.

john wick is a soft dom. that’s up to no debate. he could be a mean dom sometimes, but that rarely happens. but the point still stands.

john wick is a soft dom.

and of course, a soft dom would be incomplete without a bratty sub.

john doesn’t like it when you talk back, but during this time you’re feeling a bit naughty. a simple denial from john ruined your entire day, and so of course it’s your job to ruin his too.

he has been on the edge all day long since morning because of your constant backtalk. the snarky little remarks. the murmurs you’d say that he wouldn’t hear just to rile him up even more.

john tries to talk the brattiness out of you, but unfortunately for him, he might have to do it the hard way.

he had just come back from work when you immediately bombarded him with your attitude. still dressed in his work attire and you in your pajamas, john thinks this is the perfect time to strike.

as he stands in front of you in the living room, your mouth immediately snaps shut when a large hand comes slapping your cheek. it’s not hard enough to hurt, but hard enough to get some senses in your brain and tell yourself that you’re absolutely fucked.

literally.

a yelp leaves your mouth as you touch the spot he slapped, but when you look at him, he’s staring straight back at you challengingly.

“got any more to say, brat?”

your lips wobble. it’s not always mean john comes to play, but when he does, it scares the living shit out of you. not only because he’s mean MEAN, but also because that means there’s a 99% chance that you won’t be able to sit properly for weeks.

“d-daddy–”

“now you want daddy?” he mocks, then gripping your jaw with one hand and forces you to look at him. “daddy has been real patient with his little girl all day long, but you just won’t fucking listen to a word daddy says, don’t you?”

you’re half scared, half horny. john is fucking seething. he must be so pissed at you that he even cussed.

“d-daddy, ow, you’re hurting me–” you try to move away from his grip, but that only leads you to being slammed against the wall as john forcefully pulls your pants down along with your panties, revealing your wet cunny that’s already dripping from this whole thing. “d-daddy–”

“this must be what you fucking wanted then. for daddy to be pissed at you.” he roughly unbuckles his belt and pulls his already hard cock out, not giving you enough time to comprehend what’s truly happening when he’s already pushing his fat cock inside your little pussy, stretching it open and making you scream. “now you’re crying, can’t form a single fucking word. what happened to that bratty little girl earlier that won’t stop running her mouth, hm? you got anything to say?”

your legs are wrapped around his waist as you sob hysterically on his shoulder, ruining his perfectly good black suit. your shared wetness is dripping down the floor as his heavy balls slap against your ass.

you clench around his dick, babbling incoherent pleas for him to slow down, but all you receive is another slap on the cheek.

“shut your mouth and take it. don’t make me shove my cock so far down your throat you wouldn’t be able to speak for weeks.”

#ask #so........ #yeah...... #drabble #concept #jw #soft dom!john #john wick x reader #john wick x you #john wick x y/n #john wick imagine #john wick fanfiction #john wick fanfic #john wick smut #john wick #keanu reeves x reader #keanu reeves x you #keanu reeves smut #i actually enjoyed writing this #JESUS HE’S MEAN

[frantic-fiction]

More Than

(Pic cheekylittlepup)

Astarion x Tav, Astarion x gn!Reader

Summary: In the midst of battle a stray fireball hits you causing damage to your hair. Your hair is part of your identity, losing it seem unimaginable. But it's just hair right?

Notes/Tags: Tav has curly hair (I have curly hair, this is purely self-indulgent, hurt/comfort, Astarion being a good partner

Word Count: 1.1k

Masterlist

The delicate flakes crumble between your fingers like tiny wisps. You gaze into the porcelain sink, transfixed. Another pass of the brush sends singed strands cascading into the bowl.

"It's just hair."

Dropping the brush onto the counter, it bounces and clatters to the tiled floor. You don't bother to pick it up because all you can see is the stranger in the mirror. Red swollen eyes and chapped lips, blood splattered across their face. But what caught your attention was the strangers' hair; what were once long beautiful curls—the types of curls people envy after—were now choppy and uneven. Your face was framed with uneven fried tendrils, and the right half of your head was singed so close to your scalp that you're just now registering the painful burn that grazed your face.

"It's just hair."

It could have been worse. You've dealt with broken bones and stab wounds. Experienced moments where you'd be dead if magic did not course through Faerun. So why does this feel different? It was a simple fight. It was child's play for the party, just a couple of cultists. But you didn't see the halfling. At least not until his firebolt burnt half your hair off.

"It's just hair."

Karlach and Wyll tried to assure you that something could be done, that a new hairstyle could be salvaged with what's left of your hair. You disagreed and promptly ignored the two for the rest of the journey back to the Tavern. After you asked, Gale gave you his spare cloak, and you threw it over your head. You took the back stairway, too afraid to face the others. To face him.

Taking a deep breath, you pick up the pair of shears, the cold metal feeling daunting in your hand. You grab a chunk of hair with shaky hands and snip it off. You grimace, squeezing your eyes shut. Biting your lips hard, you force yourself not to cry, not now. Because if you cry now, you'll never be able to finish what needs to be done. But the tasks get hard the more hair clogs the porcelain basin.

Inch by inch, your best qualities and attractiveness are cut away because no one says how much they like your eyes or your skin. No, it's your thick curls and long hair. Hair. Your identity, your safety blanket, is now ruined because you didn't pay attention. Why were you such an idiot?

Tears blur your vision, and you throw the scissors with a scream. The mirror cracks, and you slide down the wall. Hugging your knees to your chest, you allow yourself to cry. Why bother anyway? A haircut isn't going to help anything.

"Tav?" Astarions's voice is concerned. He presses up against the door, and the handle jiggles against the lock.

You stiffened and pushed farther away from the door until your back hit the tub. You uselessly wiped the tears away. "I want to be alone." Your voice betrayed you, and you know Astarion will not be leaving.

"Darling," he sighs softly, and the door clicks open because, of course, it does. "The wizard mentioned…" Astarion trails off when another sob rolls through you.

He quickly drops to his knees and scoops you into his arms. Astarion cradles you against his chest, and you sob, crying as he rubs your back and kisses your face. He tells you he loves you until your wails are reduced to sniffles, and you have nothing to give. The two of you sit quietly in each other's embrace until Astarion speaks.

"Do you mind if I do something?"

Furrowing your brows, you nod hesitantly and allow Astarion to pull you to your feet and lead you to a chair outside the bathroom. He sits down and retreats to the bathroom to grab your brush and the shears. You curl in on yourself under Astarion's gaze.

"I'm very sorry this happened, love," he said, pressing a sweet kiss to the apple of his cheek. "I won't be able to undo the damage, but if you'll let me, I can even it out and get rid of the damage."

You reach for Astarion's hand, and tears trickle down your cheeks. "Do what you need to do."

He works in silence, and you have nothing to say; the only sound that breaks the room's stillness is your sniffles and the sound of the shears. You try to ignore the sight of your curls falling to the ground, but the pile keeps growing. When Astarion finishes up with the back of your head, he moves to the front and begins to fix your bangs and tackle the right side of your head. His lips are in a concentrated pout as he intently layered your hair.

After what felt like an eternity, Astarion stands up, dusting your hair off your shoulders. You're on your feet and rushing to the floor-length mirror across the room. You freeze midstep just before the mirror; swallowing hard, you fist your shirt.

At first look, you're genuinely startled; it takes you a moment to recognize yourself—your face, skin, eyes, mouth, everything all the same. But your hair is so drastically different it's like you're a different person. Once down to your mid-back, the hair sat just above your shoulder, gentle curls falling in ringlets. Strikingly, half the hair was shaved, giving the whole look a sharp edge. It was much thinner than before, and you felt somehow lighter. It didn't look bad, but you weren't sure how you felt.

"What do you think?" Astarion whispers from behind you, reflection absent in the mirror.

You raise your hand and run it through the curls; they jump back up upon release. Turning around, you look up at him. "Do you think it looks good?" You redirect, not knowing how to answer his question.

Astarion smiles and pulls you in by the waist. Cupping your jaw, he gives you a sensual kiss that has you melting. He quickly pulls away, "I am quite a magnificent hairstylist. It's just another of my many talents."

You shove him, and Astarion laughs brightly. You try to move away, but Astarion tightens his grip. "My love, your hair is just a small part of you. You could have all your hair fall out this instant, and I would find you just as beautiful."

"Really?" He nods, and you tackle him with another kiss. Gods, you loved this man.

"Though I would certainly miss pulling your curls when I-"

"Astarion!"

"Did I forget to mention this look suits you very well. Make you look positively delectable." And then your lost in each other.

So... yeah this is kinda what I wish I had when I cut my hair. Not that I burnt my hair off but after i cut my hair, all I heard was how people miss my curls, and that I shouldn't have cut it. Got me thinking about if my hair was really that important. I don't know what i'm trying to say anymore........

Let me know what y'all think

Taglist: @heartfully10 @ayselluna @marina-and-the-memes @anixson @canonicalchaoticneutral @toadsbitch @meulinkitten-blog

Want to be added? Interact with this post.

#astarion x reader #astarion x tav #reader insert #bg3 #astarion #bg3 astarion #astarion ancunin #astarion imagine #fanfic #writing #hurt/comfort

[stuckinthesun]

Left behind || Sanji x Reader

Series Masterlist

Summary: You and your boyfriend Sanji were separated at Dressrosa, and after almost two weeks you’re ready to finally see him again.

Heavy angst, established relationship, spoilers for dressrosa zou and wci, cheating??

wc - 1.1k

Defeating the Donquixote Family and destroying the Smile factory was a grueling task that separated your crew into two groups, and unfortunately, you and your boyfriend Sanji. It took some convincing for the blonde to leave you behind on Dressrosa, but after you promised to come back to him safely, as well as him screaming at your other male crew members to protect you, he reluctantly left for Zou with the others.

Now, almost two weeks later, you and the rest of your friends finally made it to Zou yourselves, and you couldn’t be happier. All you wanted was to see your boyfriend, hold him, kiss him, listen to his overabundance of compliments, and have a meal of his delicious cooking.

Of course, nothing could be simple for the Straw Hat crew.

After getting separated from Luffy, meeting the Minx tribe, and a tsunami-like wave from the Elephant cleaning its back, your group finally reached where the rest of your crew was.

Excitement thrummed under your skin, and anticipation made your heart beat wildly in your chest as you held yourself back from instantly breaking out into a sprint to find your lovecook the moment the gates opened.

“Guys!” You heard two familiar voices call out, and whipping your head around, you saw Nami and Chopper running toward you guys with tearful smiles, “You’re finally here!”

“Nami! Chopper!” Luffy and Usopp called out excitedly while Franky, Zoro, and Robin smiled in relief. You smiled too and waved at your friends, happy to know that they were safe and unharmed, but you couldn’t help but look around for familiar blonde hair.

You watched Chopper jump into Usopp’s arms, crying about how worried you all made him, making you all laugh and apologize. You were surprised when Nami dove into your arms rather than Luffy’s with tears in her eyes, and immediately, a sinking feeling weighed in your stomach.

“Nami?” You asked, voice trembling slightly when you looked over to see Chopper watching your exchange while crying, these tears holding more weight than his previous ones. The redhead let out a sob at the sound of her name, and you couldn’t help it as your arms began to shake around her.

“I’m sorry,” Nami whispered into your hair, her hold tightening as she sniffled.

“Where-” Your voice cracked, cutting you off as your eyes filled with tears, and you mimicked Nami, tightening your hold on her as well, “Where’s Sanji?”

Next to you, Chopper let out a choked sob, and you looked over to see him still in Usopp’s arms. You looked up at the snipper, and he gave you a mixed look of confused panic before Nami answered, “He left. Pirates working for Big Mom came for him and he went with them, only leaving a note behind.”

You felt the color drain from your face as you whipped your head around to face Nami’s, still tucked into your neck as she cried.

No.

No, he wouldn't. Sanji wouldn’t just leave. He wouldn’t leave you.

Not without a really good reason.

“Do you know why?” Robin asked before you could, always the quick thinker.

“They said-” Nami started but cut herself off with another sob before shaking her head, “I’m so sorry, Y/N, I don’t know how he could do this.

“Spit it out already!” Zoro snapped from behind you, and you heard a loud smack before Usopp began berating him for being insensitive.

“They said Big Mom had invited him to a tea party,” It was Chopper who continued explaining, now sitting on Franky's shoulders, “that was also his wedding ceremony to one of her daughters.”

Suddenly, you understood why Nami had wrapped you in a tight embrace to inform you of your boyfriend's absences. Your body went almost numb when Chopper's words registered to you, causing your knees to buckle, but the redhead was already there to hold you up.

“That makes no sense though!” Luffy yelled, always the first one to voice his frustrations when he didn’t understand something, “Sanji’s supposed to marry Y/N, not Big Mom’s daughter!”

“Yeah, that’s why we’re upset, Luffy!” Chopper chided, and the crew began to yell and bicker at each other from behind you. The sound faded away like white noise as your ears began to ring, and you stared ahead of you blankly, trying to focus on the feeling of Nami’s hand rubbing soothing circles on your back.

His wedding ceremony.

His wedding ceremony to someone else.

You blinked the tears from your eyes before regaining your footing and gently began to push Nami away from you, “I’m going after him.”

The crew stopped their loud arguing to instead look at you and shout in unison, “What?!”

“Have you lost your mind?! You do remember who Big Mom is, right? She’s one of the four emperors of the sea!” Usopp screeched as he ran over to you, grabbing your shoulders and shaking you violently.

“I don’t care!” You snap, pushing the snipper off you and taking a step toward the gate you had just come in from, “This whole thing sounds weird and definitely something Sanji wouldn’t agree to unless he were forced. So I’m going to see for myself just what the fuck is going on!”

“Y/N,” Luffy spoke then, his voice dropping into his rare serious tone, making you look up at him to see his face holding a look of determination, “Of course, we’re going after him.”

Your eyes widen as you look at your captain, tears instantly clouding your vision again, grateful you weren’t going to be alone in going to get your boyfriend back. You nodded your head at Luffy, and he returned it with a cocky smirk.

“Hold on,” Robin interrupted, stepping forward and looking at Nami, “Why don’t you tell us everything that happened to the four of you, starting from the beginning.”

“Okay,” Nami nodded.

Just then, a loud, familiar screaming began making its way toward the gate, and when you looked over, you saw your last missing crewmate, Brook. The skeleton was sprinting like something was chasing him, with tears pouring from his eyesockets and his arms outstretched in front of him, “Guuuuuys! You’re all okay!”

“Brook!” You all greeted him, happy to see him again.

The crew was almost completely back together.

When Brook finally made it to the gate, he stopped in front of you and dropped to his knees, panting like he was out of breath despite not having lungs, “Y/N, Luffy, I’m so sorry about Sanji.”

“It’s okay, Brook,” You whispered, trying to keep your voice steady. The skeleton looked up at you with as much of a confused expression as a skeleton could have, and you gave him a sad smile, “I'm going to get him back, but I need you to tell us everything that happened first.”

Taglist - @simpfully-heartbroken @writing-fanics @aiaiaiaiiaiiaii

Part 2 will probably be a lot longer and a lot angstier 😅

#vinsmoke sanji angst #vinsmoke sanji x y/n #vinsmoke sanji x you #vinsmoke sanji #vinsmoke sanji x reader #sanji #op sanji #sanji x reader #sanji angst #sanji x you #one piece sanji #straw hat sanji #black leg sanji #sanji x y/n #one piece x reader #op x reader

[podcastenthusiast]

Ohhh I just had a terrible thought.

Warning for some unhealthy coping mechanisms (Astarion tries to use sex to dissociate on purpose)

--

Those first fragile hours following Cazador's death are quiet as the grave. Numb. She leads you back to the inn where the others grin with pride and then exchange worried glances they think you don't see.

There is a bath. Warm water and blood washed away. Tentative simple questions--may she touch your hair? Your hands? Your back? The scars ache with residual magic and memory. Her touch is so gentle you want to scream.

Now one of her spare shirts swallows you, her arms enfolding your body as you shake like a thing about to come apart at the seams. The bed is so comfortable it feels wrong. You want to sink into it, into her, disappear forever within yourself to a distant place of no feeling, no pain. And if there's one thing you know, it is that. His voice echoes across your mind unbidden: I made you to be consumed.

Instinct grips you and like a corpse reanimated you surge into motion, reaching for her in desperate need. You kiss her skin, trailing down, teeth grazing her neck. A hand caresses her thigh. You can do this all by muscle memory alone.

"Astarion, wh--what are you doing?"

"Please," you beg, unsteady fingers fumbling with your clothes. Your tongue feels heavy in your mouth. "I'm ready."

"Are you sure? This is really what you want?"

You nod. You are not sure, not at all. But this is what you need. To be used. Not to be here. Not to be anyone, anymore, just for a little while.

"I don't know if it's a good idea tonight. You're... You need rest, time to process--"

"I need it to stop!"

Silence. Her hand touches yours. Not enticing or lustful, but comforting. You've ruined it, haven't you.

"Need what to stop?" she asks.

"Everything. It's all too much, and I need to...go away, so to speak, which would be most easily achieved by..."

"...having sex with me." She doesn't sound angry, disappointed, or even terribly sad. She is being strong for you. "You never seemed fully present, before."

"Yes and now you know why. It's not your fault, it's never been you. But you can help me! You love helping people."

This time she pulls you closer and for a moment you think you've persuaded her, but she only holds you against her chest. You feel safe, which is unfamiliar. She refuses to see your body purely as an instrument for pleasure. Part of you resents her for it tonight. If only she didn't know you so well.

"I said I'd never let anyone hurt you. That includes me. And yourself," she says. "If you still want sex later, we can talk about it then. I won't become another night you regret."

You do lose time anyway. Drifting back to yourself, you find her bare shoulder wet with tears and it takes an absurdly long time to realize you have been crying. You don't understand. You are finally free of him, truly free. You should be happy.

You try to speak but the words catch on a sob. Your chest feels like it's cracking open.

"Shh, shh," she says. "I've got you, love."

And you believe her.

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #astarion #astarion x tav #astarion romance #bg3 fanfiction #baldur's gate iii

[iovesia]

❛⠀TAKE MY BREATH AWAY.

kinktober 2023. — day one.

synopsis. a simple job as a counselor at your local summer camp becomes more than what you bargained for when bodies start dropping.

✶⠀ ׅ⠀ ࣪⠀warnings. slasher!john wick 𝑥 f!reader — extreme dub-con. fuck or die. murder. gore. doggy position. machetes. size kink. major character death. friday the 13th au. 1.5k words.

josie's little note. slutty slasher szn's officially begun! i'm vv excited to share this with you guys! had to postpone this fic for a hot second— but hope you enjoy ♡🔪 !!

THE CHILDREN’S SCREAMING ECHOED THROUGH YOUR BRAIN.

You groaned, rubbing your temples tiredly as the sun beamed down on you. Your terribly short camp counsellor uniform allowed the rays to gently warm your skin, as you adjusted the sun glasses on your face. It was a nauseatingly hot summer’s day in July— and the joyus screams of the campers festered a migraine. 

“Hey, don’t run!” You call out to the two little girls whose feet padded alongside the lake bend. The two pigtailed wearing campers merely giggle at your expense, before continuing to run down to the dock filled with other campers. 

Lifeguard duty was truly your least favourite shift. You’d give anything to trade places with Michela’s aerobics group or Jake’s hiking activity. Anything to get out of this unbearable July sun. Sweat beads spouted on your forehead as you weaky fanned yourself with today’s schedule. 

A sudden loud burst snaps you from your sweaty daze as you jump up in surprise. Your eyes catch the sight of two older kids and a sad, torn inflatable toy. The plastic swims along the lake as the two boys look awkwardly at you.

“Are you kidding me?!” you groan, irritation burning on your skin along with the heat. Pulling your red shades back down, you make your way down to the dingy, old shack near the docks. A dusty little storage unit that your camp director keeps putting off on rebuilding. You let out a cough when the cloud of dust hits your face. The door damn near tears off from its weak, copper hinge. 

“I’m so not doing this gig again,” you mumble bitterly as you enter. The soft rays of sunshine in through the cracked window as you search for a replacement inflatable. The dusty plastic toy catches your eye on the bottom shelf, and as you lean down to grab it— 

Ch. Ch. Ch. Ah. Ah. Ah.

The hoarse quiet whisper that’s been haunting you for the last two weeks of summer. The whisper that echoed in your ears, and sent the cool breeze down your spine. The whisper that had a pair of eyes watching you. 

YOU RAN.

Your worn out converse hit the bark of the forest, the tree branches slapping roughly against you as you hurry through the dark outdoors. The stain of Michela’s blood on your face, and the stench of it that burned your nostrils boiled bile in your throat.

 Ch. Ch. Ch. Ah. Ah. Ah.

That whisper rings through the forest, along with the sound of metal slashing and a masculine scream… then a loud thud. Your friends were being slaughtered left right and centre. The memories of Jake’s decapitated head rolling towards you made you want to hurl, scream and cry all at once. But, for now you just ran. Ran from the 6’1, machete wielding maniac.

You heard the folk stories, and the legends of John Wick— the boogeyman. What was supposed to be one of Brad’s stupid stories to scare the boys and girls at camp, became your unfortunate reality. 

Stupidly, you run onto the docks, leaving you in the wide open. For a moment, all goes quiet. You pant loudly and weakly, sobs wracking your chest as you look around tearfully for any means of escape. 

Ch. Ch. Ch. Ah. Ah. Ah.

Creak.

A heavy footstep rests on the dock. Followed by another.. And then another.

You’re too terrified to turn around— or too slow to do anything as a large hand snatches your shoulder, and spins you around to face the inevitable. Letting out a blood curdling scream when you come face to face with your worst nightmare. John.

The brutish giant who towered over you, wearing what appears to be a leather coat and jeans— all gloriously painted with the blood and guts of your fellow counsellors. He glared at you coldly, his hand damn near pushing you back off the dock and into the murky waters. You watch frozen in fear as his blood covered hand lifts his machete, preparing you for your demise.

“Wait, wait, wait, wait!” You sob desperately, the moonlight bouncing off the machete and shining onto your face as John holds you over the ledge of the dock. “Please, don’t do this! I’ll do anything!”

John stares at you blankly, his firm hand still gripping tightly onto your top. Time freezes for what feels like ages before he lifts you back up off the ledge. He quirks his brow, his facial expression speaking for himself.

“Anything, please, just don’t kill me,” you beg desperately. John’s eyes trail from your puffy red face, past your breathing neck, to your breasts that rose up and down with each shaky breath. The colour drains from your face when you follow his eyes that scan your body hungrily. Wordlessly, you knew. John’s quick in his movements to push your helpless body down to the dock floor. 

A loud wooden crack rings out and pain blooms in your side as your head bangs against the docks. Your delicate face scratched along the rough wood of the docks as John’s machete slices cleanly up the pant-leg of your shorts. The bloodied metal snags at your underwear as well as the flimsy material falls off your body and you gasp at the sudden cold wind hiding your rear and cunt. Humiliating tears brim your eyes when John’s grimy hands spread you apart, his knee pushing yours further out— almost putting you on display. 

John’s low breathing reverberates in your ears and you hear the glob of spit forming between his lips as it stretches down, hitting your cold skin. Your body trembles as John’s fingers slide the spit in between your folds, and rip a gasp from your throat as he plunges his index and pointer finger into your small hole. 

“Shit— fuck—” you hiss under your breath.

John simply hums at your reaction, his face remains stoic. If he’s enjoying your reactions, he’s not showing it. He slides his fingers in and out of your cunt, his one act of mercy to prepare you for his final kill. Your dignity. The squelching of your wet cunt plays over the sound of crickets and the lake moving. His agonisingly slow movements serve to prolong this tortuous and depraved experience. You whimper when John’s hands disappear, leaving your empty cunt to clench the air. 

Ziiiipppp.

Swallowing the lump in your throat as you hear John’s belt buckle hit the floor. His large hand suddenly presses your head down harder against the wooden dock, the faint splinters digging into your soft cheeks. Tears well in your eyes, and you internally pray to the souls of your dead colleagues for forgiveness for what’s about to happen. Just as you try to lift your head up against his hand, your eyes meet your reflection as the machete violently stabs into the dock… Right next to your head.

“Don’t.”

He says firmly, sending chills down your spine. You whimper, like a little lamb to the slaughter. John’s hand returns to your head, his grip tighter as he holds you down. The head of his thick tip teasingly slides up and down between your wet folds. His other hand holds tightly onto the fat of your waist, dirty nails digging into your soft skin as his fat cock plunges slowly into your cunt.

His cock just hit so deep, and your small pussy is stretched to the brim. A choked sob dies in your throat as John’s eyes grow half-lidded, and a quiet sigh escapes from him. Your warm cunt engulfed him so well as he gradually moved his hips back and forth. His mushroom tip kissed your cervix, you swore you could feel him in your stomach.

You whimpered and sobbed, your lower lip in between your pearly white teeth as you bite down. The maroon copper taste fills your mouth with John’s unrelenting thrusts only getting faster. As a fruitless attempt to dry your tears up, you squeeze your eyes closed. John’s cock keeps rhythmically moving in and out of your walls, using your warm body like a ragdoll. Hot tears slide down your face, and John’s sweat hits your back, his dark strands of hair sticking to his forehead. His eyes never left the sight of his cock disappearing inside you.

Something stirred in your lower belly, and your toes curled in your converse shoes as guilt swam in your chest. You opened your legs, and spread your cunt for the assailant who murdered your friends.. and you were enjoying it.

John’s hold on your body grew harder, when his thrusts got faster and faster. Through short huffs and tight grips, you could tell he was close. Suddenly, you felt John spurt a thick rope inside of you, filling your exhausted cunt to the brim with his seed. The pants and sobs fall from your mouth as your body collapses against the dock. The pleasure quickly be replaced with shame and horror, as John stands up, towering over your frame. 

You wince at the sharp sound of the machete being pulled from the docks. Your eyes follow his every move as his bloodied hand holds the handle of the machete, lifting it above his head, his dark eyes squint at you. Your eyes widen.

“No.. No, no, wait!”

Fin.

— taglist. @alwaysinblck @sickzmbie @hearteyedbambi @worldsgreatestsinner @rizunaur @cillivnz @beansricejc @97keanu @the-trash-site @keanuthot @sulibbyyyyy @20s7nn @aerangi @alyssagames01 @prongsio @starrgurl46 @nogr4vity

join the kinktober taglist here.

#𓂃 josie's kinktober ˚ ₊ ‧ #john wick x reader #john wick x you #keanu reeves x reader #keanu reeves imagine #john wick imagine #john wick smut #kinktober

[idyllicwillowtree]

How Much Love

Genre: Steve Harrington x fem!reader / gn!reader; angst with fluffy ending, hurt/comfort, established relationship

Summary: Steve has a migraine attack but he’s too stubborn to take care of himself.

Word count: 1.4K

Warnings: one curse word, non-descriptive vomiting, migraine symptoms, chronic pain, crying, one use of Y/N, dumb joke, p*rn reference?

Author’s note: I know the migraine thing has been overdone but idc :) I'm pretty sure this could be read as gender neutral but you can lmk if that's not the case

Enjoy!

Main Masterlist

Steve knew he shouldn’t have gone to work. The second his eyes opened he knew it was going to be a rough day. The persistent throbbing on the left side of his face and the twist of nausea in his stomach would be enough to convince anyone else that they should take it easy.

Not for Steve though.

He’s done this dance before. The battle in his mind of not wanting to waste one of his precious sick days or if he should stay home and take care of himself so he can make it through the next day. He usually sucked it up and went with the former.

I’ve had worse before, he’d rationalize to himself. I can handle it.

His true motivation for leaving the comfort and warmth of his bed was the date he had planned for you two. Steve went all out with flowers, chocolates, dinner reservation at Enzo’s, and concluding the night snuggled up on his couch watching a rented movie.  

But the customers kept coming. Steve could've sworn they were all there, not to rent a movie, but to exacerbate his migraine attack. Tired mothers bringing in their screaming babies, a group of smelly teenagers, and a boisterous man who was trying to convince Robin that The Godfather was the greatest movie ever made. That’s not even mentioning the flickering fluorescent lights that Keith refuses to change the bulbs in.

Robin began to take notice once Steve kept bumping into the shelves as he put away tapes around the store. She watched as he mustered up enough strength to pick up a stack of returned tapes and mindlessly put The Muppet Babies in the Horror section and something called I Dream of Weenie in the kids section.

  By 4:30, he was absolutely fried.

“Go home, dingus,” Robin ordered.

All Steve could muster was a small grunt from his spot at the register. His forehead was pressed to the cool counter, toned arms wrapped around his head, trying to keep as much noise and light out as possible.

The bell on the door of Family Video was the final nail in the coffin. People have been coming in and out all day but this time the ring pierced through the side of his head like a burning knife, swiftly penetrating his brain and twisting it for good measure. 

Steve’s back stiffened as he sat up too fast, stomach turning when he ran blindly through the store and into the bathroom before emptying out the contents of his stomach. He tried not to think about when the last time the toilet was cleaned as he kept his face in the ceramic bowl, spitting out the rest of the sour bile coating his throat.

Steve barely heard the door creak open through the throbbing in his head and the ringing in his ears, but he did notice the light in the bathroom turn off. “Go away, Robin,” he croaked out. 

The disobedient footsteps continued towards him. He just wanted to be left alone, feeling too vulnerable in this state. He felt embarrassment twist in his chest at the thought of not being able to handle a simple headache.

A cold hand landed on the back of his neck and began to massage lightly. It felt comforting but Steve’s mind was rejecting it, “Robin, I said-”

He finally lifted his heavy head, half opened eyes widened slightly as he met your concerned gaze, only for him to start welling up. Steve’s lip trembled as it failed to keep a sob from escaping.

“Oh baby,” you whispered. “Not feeling good?”

Steve hung his head the best he could with his stiff neck and shook his head in response.

“It’s okay, Stevie. Try not to move your head too much.” 

You squatted next to him on the nasty bathroom floor and gently brought him into your arms. You let him cry into your shirt, gently rubbing soothing circles on his back and neck. Steve knew that crying would only hurt his head more, but he couldn’t help it. He didn’t understand the emotions he was feeling yet, but he knew he was relieved to see you show up. Like a superhero, there to heal and protect him from any harm.

“I’m here now, baby. Let’s get you home, okay?”

_______________________________________________

Steve was so out of it he wasn’t sure how it happened, but the next thing he knew he was snuggled in a cocoon of pillows and blankets. He peeled his eyes open and recognized the dark ceiling of his bedroom.

You were puttering around the room, tidying up a little so Steve would have one less thing to worry about. He admired how natural it looked for you, knowing where everything goes and even avoiding the loud creaking spots on the floor. Steve had the sudden urge to reach out but you tucked him in so well he was having trouble slipping his arms out.

His grunt of protest over the blanket entrapment alerted you and you were by his side in an instant.

“What is it baby?” you whispered gently, “you need some water? Or a new ice pack?” 

Only when you removed the cool washcloth from his forehead did he notice the satisfying chill. He must have been practically asleep when you brought him home because he really doesn’t remember anything.

“What time is it?” Steve croaked out.

He leaned into the kiss you pressed gently to his cheek before you answered, “almost midnight.”

“What?!” Steve immediately went to sit up, but in his weakened state you were easily able to push him back down. “We had reservations!”

“I know, Stevie. It was really sweet of you to make plans but nothing we can do about it now,” you tried to reason. “We need to get you feeling better.”

“But I-”

“Stop that,” you demanded, still with a quiet and gentle tone, but it was still enough to cut him off. “Let me take care of you, Stevie. I know you feel bad, but I want to take care of you.”

Steve wasn’t sure if you meant he was feeling bad because he was sick or because of the immense amount of guilt he feels whenever he sees himself as a burden to others. Probably a little of both.

“I just…I was looking forward to tonight,” Steve muttered tiredly. “And this stupid chronic thing just always gets in the way and I don't…I don’t like asking for help.”

Steve wasn’t sure if he was making much sense but your smile showed him you understood. Your expression was soft and comforting as you gently raked your fingers through his hair. “Steve, I love you. All of you. Every single part of you I just adore. It doesn’t matter if those parts are feeling bad or good, I’ll always be here,” you stroked his cheek gently with the back of your hand, his eyes fluttering shut at the feeling. “I like caring for you Steve. It makes me feel good. So don’t worry about burdening me or anything like that, okay?”

Steve felt his lip tremble again but managed to gulp down his sobs this time. He whispered a quiet, “thank you” before fully relaxing. He lazily pursed his lips, silently asking for affection, which you happily fulfilled. You moved in close and kissed his lips as a way to let him know you will support him during this tough time.

Once you were leaned back you said, “now, on a scale from one to ten, how bad does it hurt?”

“Mm…Eleven.”

“No, it’s Y/N.”

Silence engulfed the negative space until a curious Steve peeled one eye open, only to see your shit-eating grin. He knew you’d be frozen like that until he laughed, but your expression was usually funnier than the joke.

He puffed out a laugh through his nose before shutting his eyes again. “That was horrible,” he said.

“Maybe, but at least I got you to smile,” you said smugly.

“Mm you sure did,” he praised you lightly. “Now c’mere. Cuddling is the best medicine.”

It’s called ‘chronic pain’ for a reason. Sure you can dull the pain with medications and treatments but it’ll always be there. Sometimes all you have to do is deal with it and ride it out,  but it makes it so much easier when there’s someone there who loves and supports you. 

Love may not be able to cure all kinds of pain but Steve thinks your love comes pretty close.

thank you for reading!

Main Masterlist

#stranger things #steve harrington x reader #robin buckley #canon divergent #steve x reader #steve harrington x y/n #fanfiction #netflix #80s #established relationship #migraine #chronic illness #chronic pain #concussion #steve harrington #steve pov #hurt/comfort #fluff #angst #Spotify

[libertyybellls]

silver soul !

pairing; finnick odair x fem reader

summary; you’ve been reaped for the 68th annual games,as you say your goodbyes you realize the ocean is not the only thing you are leaving behind.

contains ; ANGST, sadness, unconfessed loves.

☾⋆｡𖦹 °✩

you’re sitting atop the smoothest rock nearing the shoreline, too close to be dry but too far to be soaked. the air is cool despite the season. something somber lays in the air- as if nature can read the silence between you and finnick.

oh, finnick.

you wait for him to speak, for him to say goodbye and let you go. let you move onto your impending doom. but he doesn’t speak- he doesn’t even move. no noise is emitting from him, you’re not even sure you can hear his breathing- the typically obnoxious huffs and puffs he exudes are gone and he remains next to you in these final moments on district 4- refusing to speak.

he’d prayed to any god that would listen for the 68th hunger games to have mercy on you. he wouldn’t give just an arm and a leg for your safety. he would give anything that belonged to him to ensure that you’d return home, back to him, back to whatever you two were in.

he could’ve crumpled to the floor when he’d heard your name called, when nobody had volunteered. why you? why not anyone else? anyone but her.

“i’ll be okay.”

you couldn’t promise that, you knew it was a lie, you’re only 16, you have nothing to depend on getting you through the games.

“i’ll be your mentor. i’ll find you sponsors. let me help you.” finnick pleads, his eyes lowly looking into yours.

it is only then you want to break into pieces in his arms. you want to sob. you want to retreat back to your family, back to his safe presence. he looks so pure with the sparkle of grace in his eye, deeply at variance to the picture that’s been painted to the capitol. his altruistic belief in you when even now, you are certain you won’t make it far in these games, gives you a rush.

you don’t respond to his desperate offers. you only look down to your lap- at your dress playing with the simple garment. you laugh breathily, “what are the odds.”

‘not in my favor’ he selfishly thinks. he may still have a life whether you win or lose this game- but will he be alive? will he have his anchor?

he shames the world, shames the capitol, shames all of the people who sat back and let you walk onto that stage, shames the game makers who would ever let you step foot in that arena. he needs you to be okay. this world is cruel, cruel to do this to his girl.

“please trust me, i will get you out of these games. you will be a victor and we can live in peace, y/n.”

he sins. he lies. he deceives. straight through his teeth. no matter the outcome you will never live in peace once your out of this. you will never be the same girl.

you think back to his own games. though he has yet to directly say his nightly terrors, his daily horrors, the acts he’s committed that he will never say as he looks into your loving eyes. the capitol has not had lenience on this boy, only a boy, but with troubles of a man.

there is no outcome of this predicament that either of you favor. no scenario in which the world grants you the rest you deserve. you want to scream, cry, pour your heart into him. let him fully consume every fiber that holds you together, all the words you’ve never yet said to him lay heavy on your heart. now it is your turn to stay silent, to lose all oxygen in your lungs, let the blood leave your face. but your voice fails you, “i trust you finnick.”

i trust that i am safe with you. i trust that you won’t let me die. i trust that i will make it back to you. i trust you.

he pulls you into him, his cheeks are wet, there’s a lump in his throat but he does not speak. he simply holds your head onto his chest- his fingers lock into yours as if that’s where they were made to lay.

your words continue to lie dormant in the back of your shared minds- but you let the angry waves speak for you. the greying sky share your sadness, the cold drops of water that reach your legs will bring you back to life- rejuvenate your soul ties. this is the peace you’ve been granted- this is all that is fair in your life.

only in this moment will he have you as you are now, in his arms, still so fragile but he holds you intact.

#finnick odair #finnick oneshot #finnick angst #finnick odair x reader #finnick imagine #finnick fanfic #finnick fluff #finnick smut #finnick odair fluff #finnick odair smut #finnick odair x you

[phoenixblaze1412]

Hi! Could I request child reader reacting to Omega deleting the other clones?

Main segments to take note of (not canon):

Webttore will be referred to as Theta

Akademiya segment will be Iota

Child segment will be Kappa

You could only look in horror as you glanced around the laboratory that was filled with the motionless bodies of the segments.

You had just woken up from a nap that Iota tucked you in earlier yet here you are staring at his lifeless eyes.

Chemicals and lab equipments have been scattered around the room. Splatters of blood was scattered throughout the lab, the scent of iron filling your nostrils. You could only whimper in fear as you held a plush of Dottore close to your chest.

You walked closer to Theta's figure, kneeling down and gently shaking him. You were hoping they were only playing a trick with you. They would usually tease you by playing a game where they would pretend they were dead.

But why aren't they moving?

"Theta, wake up. I don't like this game anymore..."

You felt tears prick the corner of your eyes as you moved Theta's mask away from his face. You know he would lightly scold you about removing his mask and playing with it.

"Why aren't you scolding me.. I took off your mask, Theta. Please look at me..."

You patted the segment's cheek, after receiving a silence in reply, you could only let out a cry as you kneeled down in the middle of the corpses.

Even though they were only a replica of Prime himself in different parts of his life, you considered them as your own family. They treated you like a little sibling, even protected you from the dangers of the world.

You just wanted Theta to wake up and playfully pinch your cheeks. Epsilon handing you your favorite sweets. Beta and Gamma teaching you how to read and write. Iota reading you bedtime stories. And even Sigma who would dress you up in lots of different clothes and would always make sure you looked presentable.

You gasped as you looked around the room in search of Kappa, the child segment of Prime. Your footsteps, covered in red liquid, echoed through the room.

You dropped your Dottore plushie as you stared at Kappa's figure. He was sitting up against the wall, blood dripping down the corner of his lips as the back of his head looked like it just exploded.

Now that you notice it, all the segments in the lab looked like their heads exploded.

You cried as you moved closer to Kappa and held him close to you, the blood from his head stained your clothes but you didn't have the mind to react on it.

"No, no Kappa.. not you too please..."

Your wails can be heard along the hallways as you held onto Kappa. He was the segment that was almost close to your age. He was your playmate whenever the others are busy doing experiments. Kappa would even comfort you whenever you would hear the screams of the test subjects that was coming from the lab.

You choked back a sob when you heard the door to the lab open and a figure walk in. You tightly held onto Kappa as you watched the figure approach you.

Once the figure showed themself under the light, you were faced with Omega's towering form. You also noticed a purple and green item in in his grasps but had no clue on what it could be.

"Omega! E-everyone isn't waking up.. and there's blood a-and their heads..."

"Calm down, little one. There's no need to cry."

You lost your hold on Kappa as Omega picked you up in his arms.

"B-but everyone.."

"They are not going to wake up. They never will. They are now dead, (Y/n)."

You cried on Omega's shoulder in grief, he only cooed and tried to calm you down by rubbing your head.

You didn't notice him kicking Kappa's corpse away as if it was a mere pebble on the road. Even doing it to the other dead segments as he made his way out of the lab with you in his hold.

"But how.. no one dangerous came in the lab before I took a nap."

Omega hummed as he gently rubbed circles on your back.

"It's simple, really. I was the one who destroyed them."

You slowly looked up at Omega, your mind not able to process the information he told you.

"What do you mean you destroyed them?.."

"I had to neutralize them, give them the direct order to self-destruct. Just so I can be able to obtain the dendro and electro gnosis."

You felt your grief turn to anger as you glared and punched at Omega's chest.

"You killed them! Why would you do that, Omega?! They're family!"

Omega didn't even flinch as you repeatedly hit his chest. Your cries of telling him to bring the others back only fell on deaf ears.

You cried out in pain when Omega pinched a pressure point at your neck, knocking you unconscious. He adjusted his hold on you so that your head was laying against his shoulder before making his way to find Prime.

"What's done is done, (Y/n). You'll come to learn that sacrifices must be made. I'm sure you'll forgive me soon. Besides, they can be created again.. although they won't have any memories of their old versions."

Back in the laboratory, besides Kappa's bloodied corpse, there laid your Dottore plushie. All covered in blood and forgotten just like the rest of the segments.

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #dottore x reader #dottore #zandik x reader #female reader #gender neutral reader #il dottore #il dottore x reader

[igotanidea]

Forgetter: Jason Todd x reader

This was one hell of a day.

(this narrator got a feeling like she's been using this line in the story way too often, but hey! Y/N had a really busy and hectic life so what do you expect me to say?)

No, but seriously.

When she got into the shop in the morning before work to do some quick grocery and saw the flowers and buquetes standing pretty much everywhere, her first thought was what's the occation.

Took her three hours to realise the date on the calendar.

February 14th

St. Valentine's Day.

And it made her smile wondering what kind of gift her beloved boyfriend would offer her. Honestly she would be over the moon with just one flower or a simple card, but knowing Jason and his deeply hidden romantic soul he would go for something original.

So all that was left was waiting for the evening till the end of her shift and getting home to have some hearty celebration.

***

8 hours passed in a blur. Between a ton of people wanting something, new cases and stuff needed ASAP or even yesterday, stupid photocopier that refused to cooperate and a few small but quite painful paper cuts there wasn't much time to fantasise.

And all she needed for some love, peace and quiet, perhaps a glass of wine and chocolate, movie and cuddles with her favourite teddy bear while whispering sweet words of some long forgotten Romanticism poet.

Instead, she walked in on a blood stain on the floor. A red trail starting from the window and leading to the kitchen.

KITCHEN.

Out of all places that was the one he decided to crawl into, and it made her shiver. There might have been a few reasons behind his (lack-of) logic, but this room was the only one filled with sharp tools perfect for defence. Or attack. Depending on the side.

"JASON!!?!?" she yelled dropping her bag on the floor and completely forgetting about the necessity of keeping quiet while in a potentially dangerous situation. "JACE WHERE ARE YOU!?!?!" she frantically rushed to the kitchen searching for dead bodies or chopped limbs.

There was no such thing.

But-

the pile of dirty dishes in the sink

the mobs of clothes begging for laundry

unidentified stains on the floor, the origin of which she didn't even want to guess

and the smell of burning.

and her wonderfully wonderful boy wonder sitting in the middle of it all, shirtless (which may have been a mildly mitigating circumstance) with some new fresh cuts and bruises (which were definitely aggravating the situation) patching himself up.

"Hey princess." he said jauntily sending her the most charming smile as if this was all normal.

"Jace--" she opened her mouth to say something, anything but no words came out and she just froze in the middle of the kitchen with empty eyes fixed on his silhouette.

"Hey. Hey Y/N? What happened? Look at me." despite the stinging and half-applied stiches he got alarmed and was by her side immediately. "Baby. Come on, talk to me." his hand on her cheek brought her back to reality.

"What- What is all this?" she half-sobbed waving her hand around the mess.

"Oh, yeah, right, sorry about that. Didn;t really have much time for the house maintenace today. I got a trail of this villain that-"

"Villain....?" she stuttered. Any other day, any other night she wouldn't say a thing about his Red Hood duties, but 14th? Did it mean nothing to him.

"Yeah, I've been hunting him down for weeks now and-"

"Jason..."

"I got involved and lost sense of time I guess while--"

"Jason..."

"Look I promise I will clean it later, after --"

"TODD!" she yelled in frustration

"WHAT?" he spat back instinctivelly getting into fighting mode when her scream spurred him on. "shit. sorry. Sorry baby, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to shout at you... Hey! Hey Y/N, please, don't cry!" the tears falling down her cheeks were both confusing and heartbreaking "god. fuck. I'm sorry. I;m so sorry..." he muttered wrapping arms around her and pulling her to his chest feeling guilty like never before.

"What day is today...?" she sobbed, the words a bit muffled due to the squeeze.

"Wednesday."

"What day of the month?!"

"14th...." his eyes grew wide "Oh, holy fuck...."

The amount and variety of curses that rushed through his head are not to be repeated here.

The one that took the spotlight though was something along the line of him being a total fuckup for forgetting the so-called most romantic day of the year.

Holy fucking mother fuckery fuck. (yeah, I know what I said before about not quoting his thoughts, but screw it, he was wailing in self-hatred).

And even if it meant nothing to him, it meant so much to her. And she was his girlfrend, his lover, his soulmate so this was a huge, huge failure on his part.

"Y/N..." he whispered not sure how to proceed but knowing well enough he had to thread carefully. "Y/N, princess, please forgive me...." the grip on her body tightened significantly as Jason headed to the rage fit and was barely holding back from punching a wall in blind fury on himself for letting her down.

"I just wanted some quality time with you..."

"Quality time?" he repeated. That was a surprise. So she didn;t want flowers? Jewellery? Chocolate? A spa weekend? An expensive shopping on his expense. Cause he would give her all that if she said a single word. But she chooses...

"Yeah, quality time." she pulled back and looked up into those remorseful green eyes. "Just you and me. No vigilante. No Red Hood. I know it's a lot to ask, but please... please..., be Jason Todd for me tonight."

"Y/N." his tone was serious and she knew what was coming.

"Ok... Ok, I get it..." she muttered, avoiding his eyes, wriggling to escape his embrace.

"Don't you move away from me, you silly girl!" he grabbed her waist again and carried her to the couch bridal style. "Quality time. You want it you got it."

"Did you just paraphrase--"

"Ariana Grande. Yes. But trust me, she got nothing on you."

"Does it mean--?"

"I'm staying with you. But only on one condition."

"And what may that be?" she smiled softly, nuzzling against his chest.

"You get into your silly head that I love you every day of the freaking year, ok? I don;t need those five special days to go overboard while forgetting the other 360. My love is always with you."

"You only say it cause you're too much of a pussy to admit you fucked up." she teased, but smiled fully through the remnants of the tears

"Oh did I really?" he brushed lips over hers "did I really fuck up?"

"Big time..."

"guess that leaves me 364 days left to beg for your forgiveness."

"Idiot!" she punched his chest playfully

"Come on sweatheart we both know you love me." he grabbed her wrist and kissed the inside of it before planting soft pecks on each of her knuckles while looking deep into her eyes.

"Yeah... you keep telling yourself that..." she hummed.

She loved him.

#jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #jason todd x you #red hood x you #jason todd x y/n #red hood x y/n #jason todd fluff #red hood fluff

[subwaystragedy]

Count Em All || Simon "Ghost" Riley x Sub Ftm!Reader

Word Count. 1.7k

Warnings: Spanking, Vaginal Fingering, Degradation, and Slight Size Kink

"One!" You cry out, having to restart the count all over again as your secret lover slaps his large hand across your ass, the punishment he set for your disobedience throughout the day. "Two!" you call, hearing Ghost chuckle, "Don't mess up again love," you hardly hear his low and taunting voice, trying to get to ten without messing up again, having not taken the punishment seriously in the beginning. Leaving your ass red and sore, the actual number of hits being somewhere nearing 25 or 30, you can’t remember, once again feeling his hand come down on your ass, making you jolt forward. Crying out a simple, “Three!” as you whimper, the pain soon turning into a masochistic form of pleasure as his hand hits your pussy every time he brings it down to smack your ass.

His large hand hitting both sides of your ass from how small you were in comparison to him, even now as you’re leaned over his knees, the size difference is noticeable. “Four!” you sob, head hanging low as you bite your lip, thankful you didn’t get distracted by your own thoughts as you become increasingly wet from the sadistic actions Ghost was dealing you. Hearing him chuckle after smacking your ass again, “F-five!” you wail. Voice becoming hoarse from all yelling, “Startin’ to think you’re enjoying this more than you should,” Ghost laughs, fingers soon finding their way to your entrance as he runs them up and down. “Fingers are already slick with your juice's love,” he teases, knowing you’re enjoying it all from the small whimper you let out.

Hearing him chuckle lightly at your pathetic noises, “Really are enjoyin’ this more than you should, huh?” the words make you whine, earning another laugh from him as he gently pushes his fingers inside you. Only a knuckle deep as his free hand rubs your sore and aching ass, the gentleness stings as your raw skin screams from the break of contact and pain it's providing. His thick fingers stretching you as he pushes them fully inside you, the feeling like always making you desperate for something more than just his fingers. His still fingers inside you make you moan, the small and unintentional attempt to push yourself back against him, the quick but small amount of sting that comes from him gently slapping your ass once again is almost unbearable.

Tears falling slowly as he shushes you, “You can always safe word out love, no need to take what you can’t han-” “No!” you cut him off, wiggling your hips as you whine, “W-want you,” you softly sob, needing more than what he’s giving you as you raise your hips. Whimpering softly just to hear a laugh follow from him, “Count it,” he commands before he brings the hand previously rubbing your ass down to your smack it again, taking a moment to think of where you left off as you yell out before counting, "Six!" Letting out a sigh of relief as he praise you, "Good boy, glad you can keep up," feeling him smack your ass repeatedly and quickly, too fucked from his fingers pushing in and out of you slowly afterwards.

Hearing him exhale, seemingly amused with the loud scream you let out, almost convulsing as he gives the back to back spanks, "How many was that love?" "N-nine?," "Awe, that's just too bad pretty boy," you practically sob at his words. Throwing your head down, knowing you'll have to restart all over again as he tells you, "It was ten love," you whine, a few more tears running from your eyes at the disappointment. Having been so close to the actual amount, hearing him click his tongue in his mouth as he runs his hand over your sore ass again, light feather-like touches as he moves his finger back to your cunt with the other hand. Entering you immediately, no more teasing as he begins to finger you at a satisfying pace, humming as he watches you squirm and hears you whine, snickering quietly to himself as he looks down at you.

Soon feeling the small bump against your stomach turn into a full bulge against you as he picks up the pace of his wrist, thick and long fingers hitting deep enough inside you to make you moan and writhe in pleasure. You're noises clearly effecting him, both of you unable to ignore the growing bulge in between his legs, but you knew he wasn't going to give anything to you any time soon. "S-simon please~" you whine, hearing him hum as he slows his fingers down to let you speak, "I want you~ Please Si," earning a laugh from the man above you as you hear him give a simple command, "Get up then love, face down, ass up, on the bed now." Following his orders without a second thought for once in the day, getting off of him and crawling into the bed in the bunk room, just like he said, ass up and face down in the bed as you hear it creek when he removes his weight. 

Looking back to see him standing at the edge of the bed undoing his pants, as he once again makes the bed creek with his weight, being almost too small to line up with him properly. Soon feeling his cock on your ass as he rubs it in between your legs, hearing you moan makes him laugh, "A desperate lad aren't you?" he teases, pushing his head inside you before pulling it out. Once again laughing at your distressed whine, doing the action once more only for you to push back, feeling more of him entering you but soon feeling a harsh slap to your ass, harder than any of them before. "I didn't say you could move," he talks while shoving the rest of himself inside you.

Gasping at the sudden fullness, the pace he immediately sets is brutal, pounding into you with his hands on your waist to stabilize his movements, fingers basically touching as he holds you. The moans, if not heard before, were definitely being heard now by the rest of 141, increasing in volume and frequency, unable to keep it all inside as you feel him deep in your stomach. Looking down to see that small bulge in your guts that could make you cum on the spot, once again feeling his hand come down on your already stinging ass. The scream once again pulling a laugh out of Ghost, "Such a small thing beneath me," he moves his hands to grip your ass, "Can fit all of your ass in my hands," he laughs.

The tight grip on your rear makes you whine, "Come on baby, bounce on me," he gently commands, moving your hand to your stomach to feel him make that small bulge you love so much. Moving yourself back on forth, his hands still on your ass as he groans, only slightly helping as he lets you do most of the work to please yourself and him, "God you look so pathetic underneath me," he chuckles, "So small and cute," he once again laughs. His deep voice getting to you as you moan softly, whimpering and whining like the cock drunk whore you are for the man behind you, rolling your hips up and down as you push and pull yourself back and forth.

"Off, now, " Ghost commands, immediately flipping you over as you pull forward enough to make him pull out, now laying on your back as he pushes your legs up, knees near your head as he lines himself back up with your entrance, pushing in and setting a brutal pace. Pushing you up aggressively every time he thrust into you, your eyes closed with your mouth hung open in a silent moan as he presses down on your stomach. The force of his hips against your ass still not giving you a break from the pain on the raw and sensitive skin, hearing him grunt and groan at the feeling of your walls clenching against him making him get unbearably close. 

"Lookin' so beautiful love," he talks in between soft moans, trying to hear you screams of pleasure and pain, on hand keeping you leg as far back as it could go, the other relaxed as he angles himself to fuck you deeply. The bulge seemingly growing in size as he fucks you from the new angle, "So small under me," he comments, groaning with his head tilted back before he take his hand off your stomach to pull his balaclava mask just above his nose as he leans down to kiss you. Holding his face as he does, feeling his grunts and groans against your lips as you moan against his, knowing he's getting close, silently begging for him to cum inside you as you unintentionally clenching around him at the erotic noises of your kissing and sloppy sex. 

Pulling away to catch your breath properly, head thrown back as you feel him thrust quicker, trying to fill you up with his cum, and he eventually does. Grunting and groaning as he rest his forehead against your as he continues to fuck you through his own orgasm, feeling his cum inside you spurring you own orgasm, almost squirting on his cock as you finish with him. Ghost giving a few slow but deep thrust as he rolls his hips into you, whimpering as you feel almost unbearably full of your lover, his lips meeting yours again in a soft and tender kiss, hearing and feeling him sigh peacefully against you. The sweet moment being interrupted by pounding on the bunks door, a thick Scottish accent following, "Keep it down next time!" causing you both to laugh after the initial shock dies down, breathy and exhausted laughs leaving the two of you as you fall into each other. "Did so well love," he kisses your forehead, moving so you're atop of him instead of underneath, big arms wrapped around you as he pulls you close, your head on his chest as he stays inside of you, "Proud of you handsome."

#cod x reader #cod x male reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x male reader #trans reader #ghost cod

[ithinkitsleon]

a/n: idk what this is, i think i got divine motivation from the holy trinity to write something, this is a little draft tho, i may write some more things later and i didnt use the translator so my apologies for incoherent sentences or grammar mistakes

obs: pure angst or anything similar, i decided to write this just bc i would take care and defend leon with all i have (a pair of headphones and a lip gloss), i love this man so much and the fact that i could gobble & savor him like a meal in seconds makes me [inaudible noises] + i go feral over men crying

you and Leon were arguing a few minutes ago about some stupid things he was doing around the house like letting wet towels sit soaked on the bed, all kinds of clothes thrown on the floor that went from shirts to socks and underwears.

you told Leon he looked like a little boy who still needed to be supervised by his mother. Leon shouted back saying you are so annoying that makes him want to rip his hair off his head and die, still he wasn't entirely lying, you could really be insufferable sometimes.

but that in some way hurt you. as a quick response you said you wished you had never met him, that made the poor guy go silent for a couple seconds and he didn't take much to burst into tears and run to his room to lock himself there and lay on his bed until he disappeared inside the mattress.

Leon's life was falling apart since his position as a rookie working on RPD was getting to his nerves, when he had to deal with stupid paperwork, sweeping and mopping the floor all the time, delivering cups of coffee and it got worse when he needed to listen to his boss screaming at him for nothing at all, just for the fun of humiliating young cops. and he thought having you by his side could help him go through hell and back.

but when Leon met you, the first thing that crossed his mind was that God decided to take pity on him and sent and angel to take care of him. you are his safe place, his font of energy when he feels down or tired, you are his light, that showed him the right way avoiding him to drown in his own obsessive and negative thoughts. Leon loved you. in the purest and genuine way you could ever imagine. he was willing to do anything for you. he would die for you, kill for you, lie for you, he would do and any possible and impossible thing to show you his value. even humiliate himself like he did when you found him drunk with his face soaked in tears, sitting on the floor of the garage at the police station begging you to give him a chance.

now Leon was laying on his bed, all curled up in his heavy white blanket, desperately crying his heart out wondering why you said that to him, was he such a terrible person after all ? maybe you were right. maybe he let his troubled life interfere on his attempts of building the relationship of his dreams with you. maybe. he'll never know.

from outside the room you could hear the loud and agonizing sobs that left his throat whenever he tried to recompose himself, failing on the next minute when he started crying again this time choking on his own saliva and coughing right away. seeing Leon like this made you feel awful, you loved him back too but the reason why you acted so bossy and with authority almost all the time was just because you wanted to take care of Leon like a mother, not in a creepy way obviously, you just wanted to see him doing well and being capable of dealing with his professional life at the same time he needed to hold his head in place doing simple house tasks. you decided to let Leon rest for the rest of the day leaving him unbothered.

it's not the first time that arguing like this happened with you two. you avoided at maximum to not argue with Leon, he hates serious discussions and you know that. the only thing that's left for you now is to come up with a excellent excuse to calm him down.

otherwise you'll never see Leon Kennedy in your life again, after completely shattering his little heart that took him lots of time to recollect some parts, now it would take him almost an eternity to stop himself to think and feel like a total loser.

(just saying that i decided to write leon mopping and sweeping floors bc i remembered that here in brazil the rookies that join the army most of the time paint sidewalks and trim trees 🚶‍♀️🚶‍♀️)

#sub leon kennedy #leon kennedy #re2 leon #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy smut #sub leon kennedy smut #resident evil #leon kennedy resident evil #resident evil smut #sub!leon #re2 smut #re2 #re2 remake #re4 #re4 leon #re4 remake #re4 smut #resident evil 4