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cannibalovers · 1 month

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ANOTHER will wip i cannot stop painting this man.

#gave will a huge ass forehead and a terrible haircut i will cut that out later lol #not the first or last time say this but hannibal i get u for drawing will so much.#trying a new style for funsies #oil but digital #cuz this man(or hugh overall) deserves to be captured with an oil painting #but i am NOT bout to pull out a canvas drawing him with actual oils cuz first my place is not ideal for oils #and second my family will see it when its drying. and how do i explain this.#drawing a beat up bloody man. no #explaining my social anxiety topic to my east european immigrant parents was hard enough.#especially when u gotta translate ur meaning and words which u usually make up in english to ur mother tongue. I CANT EXPLAIN IT WELL ENOUG #ok this has become a rant #enjoy anyhow #i am procrastinating again #nbc hannibal #hannibal #will graham #fanart #wip #work in progress #digital art #hannibal fanart #will graham fanart #rumaiq art #my post

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oifaaa · 1 year

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I love how you wrote “crying” in the latest baby jason art, the y and g look like they have little fishes there hehe. Sorry this is so random,,,also I love your baby jason uwu

I need to stop drawing baby jason he's literally all I've been drawing for two days now I need to draw other things

#bellabethabelle #ask #hes so easy and fun to draw is the thing #also off topic #but i need to tell someone about this dream i had last night #set the scene #its a zombie apocalypse #and im driving down a road nead my house #when i come across dick and jason fighting #neither of them are zombies bc obviously jason is immune and dick is too busy to get infected #anyway i hop out of my car #pick up a bloodied crowbar from one of the dead dead zombies on the ground #and i start helping dick beat up jason #and then we arrest him #and i think i win an award for arresting him #music man is also there #he is also elton john #hes in the prison i put jason in #if dreams are really meant to tell you something i got no clue what any of this means

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peapod20001 · 11 months

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I need to draw some fucked up shit I think it’d be good gm for my health

#random post #need to draw my guys but. beat up. distraught #bloody and traumatized #maybe even just pathetic #like I draw SO much positive shit #need practice drawing tears man

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lnfours · 8 months

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gold rush | l.n

summary: everybody wonders what it would be like to love you

warnings: fluff, implied sexual themes, first time saying i love yous , i’m so in love with him.

masterlist | ask box | listen

₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊

you laid on your back, silently debating on getting up and facing the cold air that waited for you outside of the warm blankets and sheets you had tangled yourself in. the feeling of your bladder about to burst making your mind up for you, and with a deep sigh you kicked the covers off as your bare body faced the cold. you immediately shivered, walking across the wooden floor and picking up the fluorescent yellow hoodie that laid near other scattered items of clothing.

you slipped it over your head, the hem falling to your thighs as you made your way into the bathroom. you made it quick, wanting nothing more than to join the man, who was like quite literally a personal furnace, back in your bed.

when you climbed back under the covers, he shifted in his sleep. humming quietly, he reached for you. you let him grab your hips, pulling you closer into his front. however, his bare stomach constricted when your hands met his skin.

“bloody hell,” his voice was still full of sleep and raspy, “your hands’re cold,”

you let out a soft chuckle, “why do you think my hands are where they are?”

your eyes wandered as you took in the boy in front of you, fingertips on his chest as his heart beat steadily, his cheeks flushed with warmth and covered in indentations from having his face smushed against his pillow, dark curls a mess from the night before.

he looked so pretty, it made your stomach turn at the fact that anybody would die to be you. anyone would die to feel his touch, to love him. you didn’t care if it was selfish, you wanted him all to yourself.

it was like he could hear the thoughts in your head and he grabbed your hand that sat on his cheek, placing it on his chest. a simple reminder that you were his and he was yours. you smiled softly, his water colored eyes meeting yours before be tilted his head and kissed your temple.

everytime you woke up next to him, it made you wonder what it was like to grow up that beautiful.

“want to go get breakfast?” he asked, eyes not leaving yours.

you smiled, nodding before placing your head on his chest, “can we stay like this a little longer, though?”

he hummed, chest vibrating against your ear as he pulled you as close as possible, leaving no room for gaps of air between you. he grabbed your bare thigh, throwing your leg over his as he tangled his limbs with yours.

you felt his fingers comb through the hairs at the beginning of your hairline, your fingers drawing shapes on his bare stomach absentmindedly. he smiled into your hair, feeling you draw a heart on his skin.

“i love you,”

his voice was riddled with sleep, but it made your heart stop as he said the three words neither of you had said before. you shifted your head, turning to look at him as he was already smiling down at you.

“did you just-“

he nodded, the same smile still playing at his lips, “yeah,” he brushed a hair from your face, hand cupping your face after as his eyes searched yours, “i love you.”

the second time felt just as good as the first. you didn’t realize what was going on until you felt his lips on yours. they moved in sync, his tongue slipping into your mouth with ease. your hands wrapped around his neck, his body shifting under you as he moved so you were fully laying on top of him now.

you pulled away, foreheads meeting as you tried to catch your breath. breathlessly, you reciprocated the three words back to him, “i love you, too.”

the smile that fell onto his lips was almost as bright as the sun shining through the curtains. something about the way it sounded flowing off your tongue, the way it was directed towards him, the way your pupils were so large they were swallowing the color in your eyes. everything about it made his heart constrict and shoot straight up to his throat.

he kissed you again, this time rolling the two of you over as he hovered over top of you, hands on the hem of his hoodie as he pushed it up, head dipping down to place kisses on the skin of your stomach, “say it again,”

“i love you, lando norris.” you smiled, and he swore his heart burst. your thumb brushed against his cheek as they flushed, not in an embarrassing way but in a way that made him giddy and excited and loved. the love he had been longing for. the love that he had finally found with you.

he grabbed your hand and placed it on the part of his skin where his heart was beating so fast it was a wonder it wasn’t flying out of his chest. his smile was contagious and your cheeks were starting to hurt with all the smiling. you grabbed his hand also, putting it in the spot where your heart was going a mile a minute.

your universal, silent way of telling each other that your heart is for the other. you let him lean down, kissing you sweetly.

“i love you,” you couldn’t get enough of him saying those three words.

“i love you, too, lan.”

and he definitely couldn’t get enough of you saying it back to him.

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niki-phoria · 3 months

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NOT EVEN THE GODS ABOVE CAN SEPARATE THE TWO OF US

pairing: leon kennedy x gn!reader (no pronouns used) genre: hurt comfort word count: 731

notes: set in the re4 castle, leon cries (kinda), reader cries, not proofread so pls forgive any mistakes !!

summary: leon can't bare the thought of losing you for a second. so what happens when you disappear for four hours in a haunted, monster-filled castle?

four hours. it’s been four hours since leon found himself in this hellhole. four hours of mindlessly wandering through seemingly endless corridors of concrete and stone. four hours of agonizingly tracing and retracing a maze filled with monsters. it almost reminds him of the haunted houses you’d drag him to, all too eager to bring him along to experience some fake scares for once.

it’s been four hours since he lost you.

an unrelenting chill blows past him again, causing goosebumps to arise along his exposed forearms. monsters don’t care about the cold, he supposes, though it would be nice to have his jacket. with his adrenaline slowly wearing off with each step he finds himself more and more susceptible to the unrelentingly cold castle.

studying the monotone bricks ahead, leon’s mind wanders. he’s distracted. you shouldn’t have even been on the island, much less this close to whatever monstrosities linger far too close for comfort. what if you’re hurt? what if those monsters have somehow gotten to you. what if… the worst has already happened?

leon sighs. his eyes flutter closed for a second as he sends a silent prayer to a god he isn’t sure he ever really believed in. please be okay. if anything happens… take me instead. please be okay.

his heart leaps when he notices a soft scuffle. it’s nearby. something - or maybe someone - is in the darkness. leon’s hand instinctively draws to his knife. his fingers dig into the handle as he grips the blade tightly against his side. ready.

he moves like an animal. a predator - ready to strike at any moment. the stone bricks behind him are ice cold as he presses his back against the wall, silently waiting for his prey.

there’s another step. then another. and then -

“y/n?” he can almost feel his heart cease its beating in his chest. he blinks once. twice. like you’ll disappear in the milliseconds it takes for him to open his eyes again. his knife clatters to the ground in his shock. leon’s fingernails dig into the thick fabric of his gloves. he has to resist the urge to pinch himself in fear of waking up from whatever fucked up dream this is.

“leon.” your voice wavers. a second passes. then another. and another.

and then you’re running at him, all but tackling the man as you jump into his arms. leon stumbles backwards slightly. his combat boots scrape against the concrete floor as he scrambles to maintain his balance. he’s unfortunately not fast enough; the momentum sends both of you tumbling to the ground.

leon’s back aches from where you both slammed into the cold floor below. he’s sure your knees do, too. you’re both covered in dirt. a layer of sweat and grime stains the fabric of your shirt. your hands are bloody and bruised and your arms will be littered with a variety of new scars by next month - you’re sure of it - but it doesn’t matter. because you’re real.

you’re really here. you’re really wrapping your arms around his shoulders. you’re really burying your face into the crook of his neck. you’re really here.

“y/n.” this time his voice is louder. his body moves before his mind does. wrapping his arms around your waist, he sighs, taking in the feeling of you finally back in his arms once again. leon slips his hands underneath the fabric of your shirt, tracing his fingertips along the ebbs and flows of your back.

leon squeezes his eyes shut; his grip around your waist tightens. his heart cracks a little more with each new tear he can feel drip against his skin and stain into the fabric of his shirt. gently rubbing his hand against your back, he hopes that with enough loving touches and whispered reassurances he’ll be able to mend your heart back together.

leon is desperate. dull nails dig into the skin of your hips, as if the lack of separation between your bodies now will make up for lost time. “you’re here,” leon whispers. he isn’t sure if you can hear him. he can barely hear himself over the noise of his own beating heartbeat and your quiet sobs. “it’s okay. i’ve got you.” stray tears escape his own eyes before leon has the chance to stop them. “i won’t let anything happen to you ever again. i promise.”

if you enjoyed this fic, please consider leaving a like, comment, feedback, or rebloging !! and if you want to support me, consider checking out my resident evil masterlist <3

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imaginesforeons · 5 months

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Bubble and Foam(Yandere!Nanami x Reader)

~You and Nanami take a bath~

CW: Past kidnapping. Yandere Nanami. Forced nudity but not really NSFW.

Word Count: 1,347

Reqs are OPEN! At the top of my page you can see what fandoms I write for, so DM me with your ideas!

Buy me a coffee?

.-.-.

There used to be, you think, something calming about the sound of water lapping at the sides of a tub. The way the mirror and windows would fog, until your reflection was only a blob of color through the glass was delightfully anonymous, and you used to draw little flowers in the corners of the mirror when you were done bathing. The steamed room felt nice on your skin, and you always reached a light doze, warm and relaxed as you were in a tub with essential oils or salts or mountains of pearlescent bubbles. It was a private place, a slice of the world set aside just for you, and you treasured it.

There used to be something calming about it. But things changed.

Now you stood, shivering and bare except for a towel that was much too short wrapped tightly around you, nothing inside you feeling calm. It was easier, you knew, if you went along with the stereotypical domesticity that Nanami seemed to crave. It took you a while to understand, but when you realized and started treating him more like a husband than a man who probably suffered from insanity, he became calmer, smoother, like a rock polished of all its edges. Instead of hiding yourself away when he came home from whatever made him look beat up and bloody, you’d make him dinner. When you’d wake up to an empty bed, Nanami already long gone, you’d make it instead of trashing the room. You even tried to greet him at the door at the end of his workday, shyly pressing a kiss to his cheek, yet leaning back with a hammering heart whenever he seemed to want more.

You did this, because in return he became softer. He became- not like a husband, exactly, but a prison gaurd with his favorite prisoner. With his supervision, you were allowed to watch tv. You could request books or magazines from him, and he’d deliver. Once, you were even allowed to go to a park by his house, even though the entire time you were outside his arm stayed wrapped posessively around your waist, thumb stroking absentmindedly over your hip bone. It was a precarious balance of risk and reward, but as you stared at the tub, stomach sinking ever lower, you weren’t sure this risk was worth it.

This was too far.

“I can’t do it,” you said, staring at the slowly filling tub in front of you with terror. “This is too much.”

Nanami dipped his hand in the water, moving it back and forth, eyes unreadable behind his glinting glasses. “It’s just a bath. Nothing else.”

He was wrong, because it definitely was something more. Nanami had seen you in your underwear once, but only because you needed help changing the first night he took you, as you had a bad reaction to whatever drugs he used for sedation. He had never seen you naked. You and he had never, to put it bluntly, had sex. The most romantic thing he had done was kiss you on the lips, and both times you had fled to your shared room for the rest of the night. The only sleeping together you and Nanami did was sleeping in the most literal sense; you shared a bed, and only because Nanami insisted on it.

“We’re not having sex,” you blurted, then immediately felt your body go hot with embarrassment. It wasn’t like you were a blushing virgin; you’d had sex before, but it was never with a man who had kidnapped you. It was never with someone as strong as Nanami, who you had seen punch a hole through a metal door and come out of it with not even bruised knuckles. Watching the muscles in his arm flex as he stirred the water, you felt your mouth dry, and your hands tightined the grip they had on your towel.

“No,” Nanami said flatly, making you feel more ridiculous than ever. “We’re not having sex.”

He turned off the water, and the silence of the bathroom was more deafening than anything you could have imagined. The tub sat full, yet empty of people, like it was taunting you. Hadn’t Nanami just turned on the water? When had it have the time to fill up so quickly?

“Let me get in first,” you begged. “Please?”

Nanami’s brows rose. “I thought you would have been more against this.”

“I am!” you exclaimed. “It’s just that…” It’s just that you’d like to get in first and fast, so he’d barely have that chance to see you. Nanami had put some type of salt in the water, which made the room fill with the scent of lavender and gave a slight cloudyness to the quality of the water. Combined with the height of the water, it should be just enough to hide everything important from the towering man in front of you.

“...maybe you could turn around first?”

Nanami’s brows fell into a scowl, and he took off his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Yes, of course. Turn my back on you, and allow you that chance to attack me. It’s only happened once, so why shouldn’t it happen again?”

“Only once! And that was weeks ago!” You waited in terse silence, watching for any reaction.

Nanami only crossed his arms over his bare chest, muscles bulging. He was in a towel too, but where yours covered you from collarbones to thighs, his only hung low on his hips, putting everything on display. Well, you thought, staring at the trail of dark blond curls starting at his belly button and trailing behind the towel, almost everything. How was he able to look so confident dressed in so little, while you felt like the world was collapsing in on you?

“I wouldn’t be able to do anything even if I wanted,” you tried. “There’s nothing in here for me to attack you with. So could you turn around for just a second? Please?”

Nanami sighed and shook his head, and just when you thought he was about to say no, he turned his back. You took this as your chance, shucking your towel and praying that he wouldn’t peek as you lunged into the steaming water, submerging yourself up to your neck. To your side, Nanami let out a grunt, and untied the towel, letting it fall to the ground, exposing his-

You jerked your head to the side, staring resolutely ahead. You didn’t move, not even when you heard Nanami step into the tub. When he settled, placing his legs so they were on either side of you, bracketing you in, your hands clenched.

Slowly, he slid an arm around you, ignoring the way you clung to the rim of the tub and pulling you against him with ease. You had never felt so much of his skin on yours, and you felt your pulse climb as he moved against you. His hand fell over your forehead and began to pull you back.

“Relax,” Nanami said. “Let me wash your hair.”

You forced yourself to stay still, resting against his chest as he cupped water over your head and hair. When you heard something click, you jumped, eyes shooting open only to see a bottle of shampoo. Nanami squeezed a fruity-scented dollop out, set the shampoo aside, then covered your eyes with his free hand. When you caught the hint and forced them shut again, he started moving strong fingers across your scalp, deliberate yet tender.

You stayed still against his chest, a heaviness overtaking you, and you fought back the drowsiness. As you did, Nanami worked his hands through your hair calmly, in little to no rush. He rinsed the suds from your hair, and placed a kiss at your temple before smoothing conditioner through your locks.

While he washed the conditioner from your hair, you sank into something resembling relaxation, and for a moment allowed yourself to pretend you were alone. The steady rise and fall of the chest behind you made it hard.

#jjk imagines #imagines #jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujustu kaisen x reader #yandere #yandere jjk #yandere jujutsu kaisen #yandere nanami #nanami kento #jjk nanami #nanami x reader #nanami x you #nanami x y/n

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b0nten · 28 days

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COOKIES

[SYNOPSIS] ˚⁀➷｡ baking cookies with ran

[NOTES] ˚⁀➷｡ fem reader, rindou guest appearance🤗; requested by anon !! not proofread

“girl, you know damn well we could’ve bou—”

“shut it.”

RAN snaps his mouth shut — as instructed — while his brows raise and eyes widen.

“yes ma’am.” he nods, looking at you expectantly, like he’s a puppy waiting to be rewarded after doing a trick.

he looks around the kitchen, and sighs. if it makes you happy, then he’ll bear the burden of spending the next hour in front of the stove, melting butter and sticky hands from separating eggs.

‘if it makes you happy’ has become his new mantra, at this point.

“come onnnnnnnnnnn!” a whine echoes from the living room, “i’m hun-”

“you go to your room.” you command, and rindou quickly shuffles away, shōchū bottle slipping from his hand and hitting the hardwood floor before he quickly picks it up again; followed by the sound of his door closing.

“now,” you hum, tapping your index against your chin, “preheat the oven at 170°C.” you say, and even though he barely understood half of what you just said, your boyfriend speeds towards the oven and starts turning the buttons, “and when you’re done, separate a yolk from the white, and keep it. then, sift me the flour.”

“am i gonna be doing everything?” ran complains, but quickly quiets down when you give him a glare.

how you managed to tame ran haitani might have to be considered a new wonder of the world, but in all honesty, it’s fun. he — somehow — behaves whenever you’re around, and whenever you need him to. and despite his childish antics, he’s actually quite sweet, especially when he wants to be.

“do you need the larger ones, or the smaller ones?” he asks, inspecting the eggs like he’s never seen one before.

“large, please.” you reply, stirring through your bubbling butter, “do you know how to properly separate them?” you add.

“i’ve seen you do it plenty of times.” he shrugs, and cracks the shell. you absolutely try your best not to laugh while he gags in silence — egg white slipping through his fingers into the sink — recoiling in absolute disgust.

sometimes you wonder how he can beat people bloody but he draws the line at a freaking egg.

against your initial expectations, ran actually does good — everything exactly as you ask him to. he mixes the dough, something he insisted on since he’s “the man of the house”;

(said louder than normal to elicit a ‘whateeeeeeeever’ from rindou)

and you don’t even have to ask him twice to pop the tray into the fridge for the cookie dough to chill. he even offers to put the cookies into the oven, all by himself, like the proud baker he’s become in the span on an hour.

and when you lay your head on his shoulder and say “wake me up in fifteen.”, accompanied by a small yawn, he feels like he’s on cloud nine.

except for the fact that he understands fifty instead of fiteen, so after fourty-five minutes you feel him nudge you gently.

“hey, sweetheart-babycakes-honeybunch?” he pokes your cheek sheepishly.

“hm?” you hum, eyes fluttering open to see him in his apron, gloves on his hands.

“i might have… accidentally..misunderstood you….” he says, “and…. kinda let you sleep for fifty minutes, and the cookies bake for about the same time… haha!” long, bouncy hair sways in front of your face while ran tries his best to look not afraid.

you glare at him.

“they’re still edible…!” he defends his creation, placing a burnt cookie in your mouth.

‘deep breaths.’ you tell yourself, ‘deep breaths.’

“NO THE FUCK THEY’RE NOT!”

looks like rindou’s good for something, too.

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kissesforscars · 4 months

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mentions of cheating, male!user, explicit content

You and Toji were aware that this was dangerous, much more than his bloody missions. But what on earth could deny the attraction you both had for each other? Being without him was painful, but being with him was painful too. And since you both are married to wonderful women, guilt is eating you alive.

He was sitting across from the table, his back leaning against the back of the chair, listening to his wife’s speech about her work day. His emerald green eyes shine at the dim yellow light of the restaurant. He was looking at her with those eyes like she was the only one in the place, like no one wasn't there, like you weren't there. Jealousy was the first thing you felt. Now your throat was burning like you ate lava, there were knots in your stomach, and the only thing you could do was grab the bottle of water on the table. How could he be so cruel by ignoring you all night?

It’s been a pretty while since both of you saw each other and ended up in a shared hotel room. You had to tell your wife that you had a business meeting that night. Yeah, you knew that you weren't a good person for cheating your wife with her friend’s husband. You told yourself countless times that this time would be the last, and you wouldn't let Toji touch you. But once his hands are all over your body, your mind will go blank, and you will forget every promise you made to yourself.

You felt your wife's hand caressing yours over the table; a cold chill made its way through your neck. Still, Toji didn't even look at you. Maybe he forgot everything you did; maybe he changed his mind; maybe he decided to save his marriage. Fuck, you needed something to clear your mind. Your thumb caressed your wife's hand, and you slowly stood up, whispering in her ear, "Sorry, darling, I'll come back a couple minutes later."

Next thing you know, you were in the men's bathroom, rolled sleeves up, and washing your face with cold water. You hated yourself, and you also hated him. If only you could go back to the first time you had that affair, you would refuse him. I wouldn't. No, of course you wouldn't, because you were too weak for him.

You tried to find excuses for your affair. Maybe it was all because of the feelings you surpassed in your past, throwing yourself into a marriage that you didn't want. Maybe it was all to hide your real identity—the fact that you liked men. A lump sat on your throat, your hands rubbing your face. And she was a perfect woman—your wife. She was beautiful, kind, and clever. She deserved better than you, but you already screwed everything up, right? "I hate this sh*t," you mumbled to yourself. At least you thought you were alone.

Till you felt cold and rough hands grabbing your sides from back, making you shiver in your place. "You hate what?" His voice brushes your ear like a dry winter night. You pressed your hands to your face more, like you wanted to disappear right there, right now. With a slow but firm motion, he turned your body to himself. "You hate what, Y/N?"

No, you shouldn't be doing this here. Your wife was waiting for you, and he was touching you again. You wanted to push him, but your body craved his touch more. You had to be a grown man and push him away. His one hand grabbed your hands and pulled them out of your face. "Talk to me," he said, drawing himself closer to you. "Come on, baby, you know you can't hide from me forever."

“Stop it,” you said, letting the words leave your mouth, even though you weren't sure that he heard you. Good for you; you could save your hands from his touch, something that leaves him confused. “Shit, Toji, don't fucking play with me." Your hand grabbed a clean paper towel, drying your face. The heart you carried on your chest was beating rapidly, hurting your rib cage.

He didn't say anything, but his eyes were drinking every inch of your face, like he wanted to know the things on your mind. His hand on your side tightened suddenly, and you felt him closer. The cologne he used filled your nostrils. Suddenly, his other hand was on your face, surprisingly gentle. The heat of his hand was making your cheek warmer. As his thumb brushed your jawline, you were thinking about what his intentions were. “Hey,” he whispered, his tobacco-smelling breath brushing your mouth. “Don't treat me like this. What the hell did I do wrong?"

Fuck, were you an idiot for letting him get under your skin like that? Yes. Did you enjoy the proximity you shared? Yes, again.

“Just,” your voice coming out like a whisper. There were a lot of things that you wanted to say to him. I missed you. I know it's wrong, but I missed the way you touched me. I missed the way you made me feel complete for once in my life, even if it's wrong. "Nothing; the job was exhausting; I've been dealing with another person lately,” you said, swallowing your words with a kiss from his lips.

Don't do this to me; you pleaded with yourself; he didn't hear a single word. His plump lips invited you to the kiss, like he was ready to eat you till your core if you just let him. You felt his nails digging into your skin above your clothes. With a helpless attempt, you pressed your hips back to keep your body away from him.

He didn't let you go away.

“Please,” he was the one with pleas this time, “I haven't touched you for weeks,” his voice sounding like a madman, like he was about to die if he didn't kiss you right there and right now. You are a smart man, Y/N; you can't get haunted so easily, right? Right?

But the next thing you knew was your hands, touching his chest and feeling his muscles over his shirt. Running up and down, caressing him with need, and climbing to his collar slowly. “Now, that's a good, sweet Y/N," he said, his large hands cupping your ass this time, squeezing it without feeling a tingle of shame. You felt him, a bulge he couldn't hide in his pants much more, pressing to your crotch. Dear God, you started talking to yourself again. If it's wrong, then why does it feel so good that he should be mine?

"Toji," a whimper, escaped your mouth between your kisses. “Stop it; they're waiting for us,” but did he even hear you? His teeth are taking a taste from your chin. “Let them wait." You could feel him smiling on your skin, the scar on his lip leaving a tingly sensation on you. “I'm busy with my favourite thing here."

#toji fushiguro #toji x reader #toji x you #jjk toji #male reader #toji x male reader #jujutsu kaisen

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marsbutterfly · 7 months

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HELLO MARSLYN 😈

idk if you’ve done this already.. but could i have some dating headcanons for hanma? 🥹 ilysm

a/n: HELLO BITCHLYN <3 I am so sorry this has taken me so long BUT I finally finally finished this <3 I was going to make it all very sweet and fluffy then the smut came out. oh well, it is what it is hehe

Dating Shuji Hanma 𓈒∘☁︎

warnings: fem!reader, mentions of the following - blood, knives, bruises, violence, smoking and some creepy ppl at first, some anxiety if you squint. NSFW, oral sex (m! receiving), multiple creampies, no breeding kink tho. not proof read cuz i'm depressed 🫶🏻

𓈒∘☁︎ You "first" met Hanma by accident. It was a simple summer day, you were on your way back from class when a group of men stopped you on the street. Their faces were some you had never seen before, even though you walked the same path everyday.

𓈒∘☁︎ A smile crept on the biggest one's face and you could feel the blood nearly draining from your face and yet, your heart was beating so fast. A fear you had never felt before as they take a few steps closer, nearly pressing you against the wall.

𓈒∘☁︎ You don't have time to scream for help because, before you even realize, a shadowy figure is already on top of them. A slim boy with duo color hair throws punches around in such speed you have never seen before. He laughs a deranged laugh and you notice that he is mostly using his right hand, yelling something about "punishing assholes."

𓈒∘☁︎ Once all the creeps who cornered you are on the ground, a mess between bloody noses, swollen eyes and missing teeth, the boy turns to look at you. Splatters of red across his face as he walks closer, his left fingers rubbing his right knuckles.

𓈒∘☁︎ "Are you alright?" He asks, a blank expression on his face while his eyes give you a puzzling look that you can't quite decipher.

𓈒∘☁︎ "I think so," your voice cracks, hands shaking lightly as he walks closer. After a few seconds of examining his face, you realize you have met him before. In fact, it was a face you were maybe too familiar with, "Shuji?"

𓈒∘☁︎ The right side of his lip curls into a smirk and he raises an eyebrow, "I go by Hanma now, it's more intimidating!"

𓈒∘☁︎ After that, the two of you began spending more time together. While you weren't thrilled with his ways of getting what he wanted, you still accompanied him wherever he went. The gas station on the corner where he would threaten to beat the owner if he didn't give him a pack of cigarettes (of course you would pay the poor man behind his back)

𓈒∘☁︎ Or when he would bring you to the gang's hideout and listen for hours as he instigated the boys to punch each other (it became common for you to mend battered knuckles and accessing injuries)

𓈒∘☁︎ However, he could also be very romantic when he wanted to be. Like when he would take you out to dinner, though not typically to restaurants since he was banned from most of them, he would insist on taking you out for a night bike ride, the smell of the ocean mixing with the smell of whatever takeout food you ordered.

𓈒∘☁︎ You would spend hours sitting by the sea, the sand getting in between your toes after he splashed some water onto your feet. The cold breeze against your face and the sweetness of his lips against yours after eating dessert.

𓈒∘☁︎ He will bring out a deck of cars and insist on playing for a chance to see your boobies, he cheats and wins every time of course but he will deny it like his life depends on it if you call him out.

𓈒∘☁︎ I think he is caring in his own personal way. Even though he might sometimes get himself busted up pretty badly, he would never, EVER put your life in danger, willingly or not.

𓈒∘☁︎ I feel like he might also have a "special talent" though I'm not sure what it would be. Maybe he is really good at doing your makeup since his eyeliner is so on point.

𓈒∘☁︎ Or maybe he is really good at drawing and keeps leaving silly, little pictures around your house for you to find when you are away from him. Some are drawings of hearts, some are gory as fuck. Who knows what you'll find next time?

𓈒∘☁︎ He is very protective of you. Like, any man who gets too close or even looks in your direction, gets a stern look or maybe even a knife to the throat when you look away.

𓈒∘☁︎ The idea of having you all to himself makes him go crazy. He gets hard with the slightest of touches, and when he feels your mouth around his cock? He feels like he could bust a nut with the simply breeze of your warm breath.

𓈒∘☁︎ He loves it when you have your "bad girl moments", when you push his against his back and get on your knees, moving your hair out of your face to give yourself better access to his already throbbing cock.

𓈒∘☁︎ Oh, and he is obsessed with your pussy. The way he fills you up, the way you move your hips against him, the way he fucks you so hard his balls actually come in contact with your clit.

𓈒∘☁︎ He gets easily drunk on the scent of your sweaty skin mixed with his, the pool of your juices sliding down your legs towards the ground. Oh, how he loves the sounds you make.

𓈒∘☁︎ Also his pull out game is immaculate. The man has never worn a condom in his life, but every so often he will give into the temptation and release all of his cum inside of you. He will do it until you are dripping.

𓈒∘☁︎ Then he immediately goes out and buys like, three boxes of plan B. idk, the man knows the consequences to his actions.

𓈒∘☁︎ Oh and to finish this off, did I mention that he definitely asked you out by beating a bunch of guys up and either using their blood or displaying their bodies to form up the words: be my gf? because he did.

#hanma shuji #hanma shuji x you #hanma shuji x reader #hanma shuji x y/n #hanma headcanons #tokyo revengers #hanma shuji smut #tokyo revengers smut #tokyo rev smut #tokyo rev #jfbl #hanma shuji x reader smut #hanma shuji headcanons #tokyo revengers headcanons #tokyo revengers x reader smut #sleepysnk!

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cherry-cola-on-ice · 8 months

Note

Can you write a story that has Thomas Hewitt getting jealous at a guy flirting with his S/O please love your work🙏🙏🙏🙏

Jealousy Jealousy

It shouldn't bug him so much. Especially after all this time.

It wasn't your fault after all. Anyone with eyes could see how beautiful you were. Everything about you was crafted by some higher being, sculpted from the stars and the skies. And you were so sweet, so kind. You brought a smile to even Uncle Monty's face.

And most of all, he knew you loved him. He repeatedly told himself, saying it over and over again in his head like his own personal mantra. As long as you loved him, he didn't need anything else.

Thomas's eyebrows furrowed as you laughed at the joke. He couldn't tell you jokes. But this stranger could. This handsome, younger man with perfect teeth and perfect hair. He looked like one of those men on the front of the harlequin novels Hoyt steals out of suitcases.

You laughed again, head thrown back. God, you were perfect. Too perfect for him. This stranger was the type of man you deserved.

From the back room of the gas station, Thomas shifted his weight nervously. He knew he should have left you at the house. It was a bad idea, just like Hoyt said. You brought to much attention to yourself. Unknowingly and unwittingly, of course. Never your intention.

But you had a magnetic power around you, drawing people in.

Your soft eyes were what made him fall in love with you. When his family first found you, hiding out in their barn, crying your eyes out, he felt a pang in his heart that was new to him. You looked scared and you were alone. Everyone else had left you, all meeting their ends by his chainsaw.

He asked you why you didn't struggle and you always shrugged "I guess they were never really my friends to begin with. They tried to leave me for dead. "

And he didn't question it at first. After all, it all brought you to him. You were his now.

But-

You should hate him. You should fight him. You shouldn't be able to stand the sight of him. You were better off with this man, this stranger who could give you the life you deserved. The overwhelming feeling of despair hit him like a shot to the stomach.

But then you turned to him. And smiled. That sweet smile, the one that lit up a room and light up his life. And it was directed at him. It was his smile.

And for a moment, all was right in the world. You chose him.

But then-

"So, I gotta wonder... What's a sweet thing like you doing in a shit hole like this?"

From afar, Thomas could see you bristle, your demeanor change from jovial to defense "What's that supposed to mean? There's nothing wrong with here."

The stranger laughed "Yeah, it's cute in tetanus shot kinda way. But nowhere such a hot piece of ass such as you should be. "

Thomas ought to punt this creep straight into a grinder. His fist balled up and he began stalking towards him-

Except you beat him to the punch. Quite literally.

The stranger fell to the floor, holding his bloody nose. Whimpering. Thomas was surprised, he didn't think this guy would go down that easily. The man wasn't as tall as him, but he was still a sizable man. And you floored him.

Looking back to you, he watched as you shook your hand out, cursing under your breath "Fucking hell, dude! Your face made out of concrete?!?"

"YOU BROKE MY NOSE, YOU BITCH!"

"Yeah, and I'll do it again if you don't get your ass outta here!"

The man, holding his bleeding nose, lifted himself off the ground, shooting daggers at you. Instinctively, Thomas placed his body between the two of you, glaring back at him.

The stranger, though looking absolutely terrified, feigned confidence and scoffed as he walked by. You grabbed Thomas's arm, shouting as the stranger left the store "Yeah! Get out here, you-"

Thomas spun you around, grabbing your face in his hands. He looked you over, looking for any signs of harms. You scrunched your nose "I'm fine, Thomas!"

Thomas huffed, pulling you close to him. You laughed in his arms, standing up on your tip toes to press a kiss to his mask. Thomas looked down at you, taking in the lovestruck look in your eyes.

Yeah, he had nothing to worry about.

#slasher x reader #slashers x reader #thomas hewitt headcanon #thomas hewitt x reader #thomas hewitt x y/n #the texas chainsaw massacre #tcm the beginning #slasher headcanons

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dolldefiler · 4 days

Text

[Dark stuff ahead!!]

C/W: Rape, anal, blood, punches, knives (well, more like a single knife)

I really need to beat the shit out of a friend before teaching her her place.

She’d sit there in horror, watching me drunkenly jack off my thick, throbbing cock, eyeing up her tits. I’d reach over, landing a sharp punch across her face, feeling my cock fucking twitch as she yelps and groans in pain. She’d be terrified. This is what she deserved. For every time she’d complain about another guy or give me shit, I’d beat the fuck out of her, until her blood covers my fists.

I’d reach for her asshole, plunging bloody fingers deep into her unprepared, unwilling depths, feeling her hole clamp around me. My fingers would saw in and out of her perfect ass. My dick would fucking throb listening to her scream while her ass jiggles around my knuckles. God, I’d even reach for a knife, threatening to cut her up if she kept screaming. I’d hope she screams more. Louder. Just so I can draw a line of blood across her body.

And the worst part is—I’d tell her as I pound her tiny, abused asshole with my rapist cock—the worst part is that I would never have done this when we first met. I was feminist, kind, and gentle. I’d never dream of hurting her, of pressuring her, of raping her. She did this to me. Her incessant, self-centred, one-sided conversations turned me into this. Every time she bent over, every time she talked shit to me, I slowly realised what a pathetic little bitch in need of rape she is.

I'd feel her writhe under me, her hips bucking in a feeble attempt to stop me. I’d slam her face into the ground and threaten to stab her if she continued. The silence would be filled with my grunts and the sounds of a woman turning into an injured, traumatised animal. I used to have a crush on her. Now I just want her to hurt. I’d make her hurt.

I’d leave her asshole and bury my shaft into her wretched cunt. Her fuckbox. Anything except a pussy or a vagina. Women have those, not sub-human, traumatised fleshlights. I’d carve away her fucking flaws, the annoying personality, the sassy mouth and turn her into the perfect little porn fuckdoll for me, even if it leaves her broken. Especially if it leaves her broken. In and out, I’d slam inside her, feeling her cunt clench down on me, trying to stop me. She’d feel so fucking good around my hard, veiny cock while I threaten to pump her full of cum.

I wonder what her eyes would look like. Her cute, innocent little friend turned into a violent rapist in the blink of an eye. Would she be shocked? Angry? Or would she simply be empty? I’d laugh at her either way, feeling her twitch slightly beneath me. I’d use the knife to draw out a response, any response, before flooding her womb. Thick, creamy cum from the man she used to trust and dote on most.

Maybe she’d start drinking more to ease the pain. Maybe I’d take advantage of her drunken holes every fucking time.

#intox cnc #intox kink #rapedoll #rapekink #rapetoy #r@pedoll #r@petoy #r@pe fantasy #r@pe kink #r@pe play #cnc k!nk #dark kinks #knife k!nk #impact kink #misogyny kink

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hurtspideyparker · 1 month

Note

Hi, sorry but could you recommend any of your favourite Peter Parker fics please?

For sure !!! *cracks open ao3 bookmarks*

Thirty Hours by polaroid15 - Peter doesn't take any breaks during a lengthy fight with the Avengers. The mind-melting fever that follows really should have been expected.

Hurt Peter Parker, my favourite tag <3 I love when Spider-Man is a badass and also lacks self-preservation. He's so cool fighting alongside the Avengers and we get some sweet hurt/comfort irondad!

Fitting In (Tiny Spaces) by aloneintherain - Peter's trapped beneath a collapsed building during a mission, hurt and unable to move. Luckily, his comm still works. Unluckily, the Avengers don’t realise how bad of a state Peter is in, and Peter isn’t inclined to tell them.

This fic is an icon in the fandom and for GOOD REASON. I just can not get enough of Peter Parker hiding his injuries. More heavy whump and angst!

All good things come in threes by Bergen - Peter has three secret identities: Spider-Man, the superhero who swings around the city to save people. Parker Benjamin, who gives Tony Stark unsolicited advice on his research. And NightMonkey, the Instagrammer who keeps uploading increasingly popular but embarrassing drawings of Iron Man.

And he can juggle them all just fine, thankyouverymuch.

Okay here is the fluff!!! Peter is a genius, a menace, and a sweetheart. Tony Stark runs into him (again and again) and can't help but have a soft spot for him every time. Funny and cute and an all 'round good time!

Held Together by Spiderwebs by TunaFishChris - Steve is not coping well in the twenty-first century. At all. Three months after the Chitauri invasion, he decides he's had enough.

But just as he's about to end it all, he runs into the new hero in town.

This one focuses a lot on Steve but I really like him and Peter's relationship in it, and I think this is great Peter Parker characterization. TW for discussions of depression and suicide, it gets a bit dark!

5 Times Spider-Man Saved an Avenger's Ass (and 1 Time They Saved Him) by TunaFishChris - this fic showcases how strong and capable Peter is, he's definitely a BAMF. I really like this genre where the Avengers know Spider-Man but not Peter Parker, makes Peter feel more independent and mature like in the comics.

Five Time Faculty Members Had to Call Peter's Emergency Contact + One Time He Shows Up Anyway, Five Times Tony Stark's Fabled Intern Just Showed Up + One Time He Was Invited, and Five Times Strangers Talked About Peter and Tony + One time Someone They Know Did by kingdomfaraway - I am just gonna recommend this entire series. Super fluffy, extreme irondad and spiderson. They're just adorable from an outside perspective and I love when Peter gets to just be Tony's intern and a teenager for a while :)

research and disaster by blueh - “So, uh, Mr. Stark definitely knows Roomba-Kid,” Becket says and discreetly tilts his head in the direction of the pair.

“Oh my god,” Jess says. She almost sounds gleeful. “Oh my god, he’s not just some random kid. He’s Mr. Stark’s kid.”

or: the interns at Stark Industries have some questions about Peter Parker. The answers aren’t quite what they expect.

I just love intern Peter mk? Let him be a kid genius and have fun!!! Fluffy and humorous, again with the irondad.

Captain, Oh My- Not My Captain! by uncouth_peasant - Peter swallowed hard before firing a web to swing into the fray. “Cap’s going after civilians. I’m out of time.”

Bruised and bloody men <3. Just Peter being a badass and getting beat to a pulp. Cool fighting, lots of Peter whump, and of course the Avengers being protective.

Good publicity by Bergen - Between Peter Parker barely speaking, and Spider-Man being the ultimate chatterbox, how was Tony ever supposed to figure out that they were one and the same person?

Tony Stark is secretly a softie for cute kids, especially when they're a genius and have a sense of humour to rival his own. Peter is a foster kid who ends up finding a home with Pepper and Tony, very sweet.

The Third Option by Uncertainty_Principle - When Ben is murdered Peter goes into foster care. It takes just a tiny taste of superpowers for Peter to decide he doesn’t want to put up with his horrible foster father anymore—the streets are infinitely more appealing. All he wants is to be Spider-Man anyway.

So he leaves, simple.

Simple, that is, until Iron Man needs Spider-Man’s help.

Heavy TW for this one, mind the tags. This is a popular fic and for good reason. A very mature and realistic portrayal of the foster care system and homelessness. The Peter angst is really great and I could barely put it down, that boy needs a hug so bad.

Now here's some hydra!Peter fics cuz they're my jam:

Peter is a precious chickpea by Bergen - They attack the HYDRA safe house shortly before sunrise.

The only people defending said safe house are Peter and Leo, and Leo slams his cell door open and starts spitting out orders, but then promptly gets clobbered over the head and keels sideways.

So that just leaves Peter. And he’s not even going to try to fight a whole team of Avengers. He looks up at Iron Man filling the doorway. “I surrender.”

He’s never been captured before and he’s not sure what to do. Escape, probably.

This entire series is PERFECT. I just love how adorable Peter is, and all the relationships Peter forms with the Avengers absolutely melt my heart. Peter's characterization in this is really unique and I wish there was more. The Bucky and Peter friendship is everythingggg. I love hydra!peter and bucky fics.

Indoctrination by phoenixon - The Avengers thought they were on a typical assignment: Infiltrate the Hydra base and find the weapon. What they didn't expect was the small boy raised by Hydra that they found instead. And they definitely didn't expect him to stay at Avengers Tower or how he somehow wormed his way into their lives. As for Peter, he just wants to be good and obey what the Hydra men told him so he doesn't get in trouble.

I just really love hydra Peter changing into a sweet and intelligent boy once he's rescued and safe, and how all the Avengers take up such heart-warming parental roles around him.

out there, living in the sun by Hailfire_73 - The Avengers rescue Peter from a Hydra base ran by his father, Richard Parker, except Peter doesn't really see it as a rescue, and has trouble settling into a new life away from Hydra and his father at the Avengers compound. OR - Peter learns how to be an actual teenager, live life, and put his abusive past behind him, and Tony learns how to be a father.

Hydra Peter but he's most definitely a traumatized and moody teenager. I really enjoyed Peter's character arc and the exploration of his trauma. It felt more realistic the way his journey isn't just a straight or clear path. He's more mature in this one and it was a really compelling read, balancing the angst with some humour and fluff. Loved the ending.

Tinker, Tailor, Spider by Bergen - Tony is roped into a mission to transport a teenager to safety. But when things go south, it soon becomes more and more puzzling who the teenager is and what ‘safety’ means for him.

I really enjoy that the author doesn't water Peter being hydra down. Yes he is a highly skilled assassin and a badass who's trauma pervades his every thought and decision. Made me fall in love with the Tony, Pepper, Morgan and Peter as a family dynamic. Super domestic while still highlighting Peter's troubled past.

#peter parker #spider man #ask #anon #fic rec #spiderman #marvel mcu #spider-man #peter parker angst #irondad and spiderson #tony stark #avengers #iron man #peter parker whump

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leathfaic · 8 months

Text

Ghost is a man who never needed to do much to draw attention when he goes clubbing. His impressive frame ensures he gets plenty of attention. That natural air of authority honed over years as a commanding officer ensuring he has his space if he wants it, unwanted approaches stopped before they even begin.

Still lots of eyes stick to him casually leaning against the bar. Always had an easy pick of those brave enough to approach him. Even before the scars in his face he attracted a certain type, the twinks that wanted to be thrown around, bears wanting to play with someone in their own weight class they weren't sure they could out-wrestle and everyone in between who just likes tall, strong blondes. Ever since the scars that has only intensified, might be that he loses out on some vain types, but the daredevils flock to him even more now.

So really he can't complain. He's not the biggest fan of the places, avoids scrungy punky ones altogether for very personal reasons, but they serve their purpose. Finding a quick lay mostly. Sometimes just enjoying a space where he's not the only gay man for miles and miles.

When he starts to go clubs with Soap though, it becomes a very different experience.

First of all he's not looking to take anyone home or to a convenient dark corner.

No, he's here because Johnny likes dancing and what Johnny wants he usually gets. Simon could never deny him anything.

So there is no one Ghost is looking at but Soap. And bloody fucking hell it is worth looking.

Johnny's easy confidence bleeds off of him and mixed with his natural charm he commands the entire rooms attention. His body helps, sure, sculpted muscles barely hidden by a mesh shirt and jeans so tight there's nothing left to the imagination, but there's plenty of good looking men around.

None of them carry themselves like Soap does though.

He watches as Soap enters the dance floor, seeming to melt into the beat. Dancing as effortlessly as he cleans an entire building of hostiles. A fucking vision in strobing lights as he let's the rhythm dictate his movements. Wide fucking smile painted on his face.

People flock to him, wind themselves around him in more or less proficient dance moves, probably hoping to leave an impression over the gaggle of obvious suitors.

Soap toys with them, dancing with those he finds entertaining, neatly sidestepping those he doesn't. Bathing in the attention of wandering hands and lips.

Ghost wonders if they can feel how dangerous of a man he really is. If they can smell the slight hint of sulfur from the demolitions workshop he's been crammed in all day. If they can see the edge in his eyes, that predatory glint of a man trained to kill walking through a crowd of unaware civilians.

Most probably can't.

Some who can probably find it exciting.

In the end none of it matters anyways.

Because it is Ghost's gaze that Johnny seeks when another man winds around him, littering his neck with kisses. And it's on Ghost's wordless command that he abandons the crowd of hopefuls. Meandering over to him, well aware of all the looks following him as he sprawls himself in Simon's lap unabashedly.

It's a unique rush of power having the man they all want at his beck and call. To take a sip of whisky and shamelessly kiss it into his mouth. Making sure just a little spills over painting a golden line for him to lick up.

Keeping his eyes on the crowd and bathing in their envy, their hunger and their shock.

He indulges for a few minutes, let's Soap shower him in affection while keeping him and the room in check with his dominance over the situation.

It's a game they both know Ghost will lose down the line, will drag Soap out of the club like his life depends on it. Maybe throw him over his shoulder just to make a point.

But not yet. Now he makes sure Soap drinks some water and sends him off again with a well aimed slap to his arse.

And Johnny smiles bright and wide. Drifting into the crowd, the crowd that is apprehensive at first but before long they can't help themselves. There's some wary glances shot at Simon, but his ongoing indifference seems to embolden them. Crowding Soap like moths would a light.

And Ghost finds himself suddenly enjoying clubs a whole lot more. Revelling in Soap's obvious bliss and the knowledge that the man who drives the whole dance floor senseless will follow him in the blink of an eye.

Let them get their hopes up, he's got nothing to fear, to be jealous over because he knows the only thing that matters:

Soap commands the whole room without even trying, but Ghost is the only one who commands his attention.

#ghost has a fucking ego about this #and they both would be the kinds of arseholes toying with a crowd like that #only to go home and fuck about it #their power dynamics are deliciously screwed between ghosts worship & adherence to johnnys every wish and soaps devotion bordering on fealt #they are so very much in love #in all the healthy and unhealthy ways #ghostsoap #simon ghost riley #soapghost #cod mwii #john soap mactavish #johnny soap mactavish #cod mw2 #cod #cod hc #my stuff #ghoap

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slexenskee · 3 months

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Anti-Hero 1: A random scene from Gojo's childhood in MDNSY that never fit into the story proper.

Fuyumi stares up at him in stricken horror, tiny face drained of color as her gray eyes well with tears. A shattered vase lies on the ground around her bare feet.

He’d heard the sound of glass breaking against the floor, and left his study to investigate the noise. Anger is easiest to call, fueled by his daily frustrations on his own inadequacies as a hero who cannot surpass All Might, by the quiet self-loathing he harbors for himself for dragging innocent souls into this mess. Anger at Rei, because she’s supposed to be watching the children while he’s working. At Fuyumi, for breaking a vase in the middle of the day and potentially injuring herself in an attempt to clean the house even though she knows damn well they have staff for that.

He yells at her, even though he immediately regrets it. She’s just trying to be helpful. She didn’t mean to break the vase. Even though she’s doing things that are unnecessary, potentially dangerous ,and utterly purposeless, she didn’t do it to cause trouble. She’s frightened of him— she always is when he raises his voice. She starts sobbing uncontrollably, stammering about cleaning it up. Her noisy crying draws the attention of the entire house.

She takes a step forward to start trying to pick up the pieces of glass with her bare hands. He shouts at her to stop moving; there are shards of glass everywhere around her and she’s not wearing shoes. He lunges towards her with his hand raised, to pick her up before she cuts up her feet. Natsuo comes barreling out onto the engawa from the living room, sees the broken vase and his sister crying, and him looming over her with his hand raised towards her and screams bloody murder.

“Get the fuck away from her!” He shouts, hurtling towards them with the intent to— Endeavor doesn’t even know. Push him away? He barely comes up to Endeavor’s chest. And he’s cursing, too. He’s not even in double digits yet. Touya’s influence, no doubt. He clicks his tongue. What is Rei doing with them? Is she not disciplining them at all?

“Stay where you are!” He booms back at him, loud enough to rattle the shoji screens. There’s glass all over the floor where he and Fuyumi are standing, and Natsuo is also not wearing shoes.

“Leave her alone!” Natsuo screams back.

The shoji screen to his right slides open. Touya sticks his head out, hair in disarray as he rubs one eye. He looks like he’d just woken up from a nap somewhere. Shouto toddles behind him, dropping his pacifier on the ground as he does so and then plops on the ground next to it to put it back in his mouth. Endeavor is disgusted. And overwhelmed. He’s never had to deal with all of his kids at once like this, all the noise and the chaos and the clashing personalities. Where the hell is Rei? Why isn’t she watching any of them?

“Calm down, would ya, old man? It’s just a vase.” Touya yawns, looking as unimpressed with him as always. “You okay, Yumi-chan?”

Fuyumi sniffles, nodding hesitantly.

“Don’t move, there’s glass all around you,” his eldest says, calmly, and then proceeds to ignore his own sound advice and walk directly into the hall. “I’ll go get a broom.”

Everything about it infuriates Endeavor. The way he just ignores him, disrespects him so blatantly, doesn’t even look his way when he addresses him. They way his siblings automatically respond to him and listen to him, look to him for answers and direction— even when their father is right in front of them.

“Stop right now boy!” He shouts at his eldest. Touya ignores him, picking his way through the glass with a graceful ease.

The white-haired child laughs meanly at him. “Don’t tell me what to do, old man.”

That’s what makes him see red. The audacity of this child, to speak to his father that way. If Endeavor had ever tried such a thing with his own father, he’d have gotten a beating for his cheek. No matter how he shouts or disciplines him, this impudent child never respects him at all. Never gives in, never apologizes or admits wrongdoing. It infuriates Endeavor to no end, that this failure of a child that cannot ever hope to surpass him can stare at him with such baleful eyes and find him wanting.

He charges towards him. To grab him by the scruff of his neck and lift him up before he stupidly cuts himself on the glass, and maybe none-too-gently toss him into the grass off the side of the engawa. Instead Touya’s eyes flash, and he’s ducking out of his reach with astounding speed. He crouches low and angles all his weight onto his shoulder, shoves it into Endeavor’s stomach, and vaults him right over his shoulder, through the shoji screen wall and into the koi pond outside. As he resurfaces he hears Fuyumi’s shriek, Natsuo’s delighted shout, and Touya’s uproarious laughter as he calls him some rather unflattering names. Touya stops laughing after a beat, and when Endeavor blinks pond water out of his eyes, he’s lit up yet another cigarette in the house and is staring curiously at Shouto behind him.

“Who’s this lil’ guy?” He says, sounding surprised to see him.

“That’s… Shouto.” Fuyumi trails off.

“Oh.” There’s some vague recognition in that tone. Touya hauls Fuyumi up and carries her back into the house proper. He drops her next to Shouto. “Well whatever. Let’s go get ice cream. Shouto too.”

As he walks away, Endeavor can’t help but notice his feet are clean and undamaged even after all of that movement, no blood or glass to be seen.

#fic may death never stop you #mdnsy oneshots

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vhagarlovebot · 1 year

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take a moment and think about aemond as ghostface. but he’s killing everyone around you because he wants you all for himself. every person that crosses paths with you ends up dead and once you caught up on what is happening you don’t know who to trust. that’s when the cute boy from your history class who’s always helping you appears. but you can’t really trust him, still afraid of the psychopath who is, apparently, obsessed with you. but he wins your trust when you find him bleeding out in the hall. together you come up with a plan to catch him but every time you’re about to, he slips through your fingers and a new person ends up dead.

until one night when aemond goes to your apartment—just like he’s been doing for the past two months—and finds you sleeping on your bed; looking so peaceful and pretty. he watches you until your eyes flutter open, and you find the psychopath in the white mask looking at you, knife to your throat. you don’t scream, too afraid of what he can do if you do, you try to focus on something else. and that’s when you notice it is the first time you see him without the usual black attire. he’s just wearing normal clothes and it scares you even more, knowing he’s a normal person doing all of this. you wonder if he goes to the same college, if you spoke at any time. you stop breathing when he gets on top of you, parting your legs with his free hand, caressing your thigh until he cups your clothed cunt. frozen in place all you can do is watch and feel him roam your body. it makes you sick but a flame of hope burns in your heart thinking of aemond, knowing he should be home in no time. he will save you. “aemond… please hurry.” your whisper makes ghostface laugh, knife going up to your cheek, slowly and softly making its way around your face and neck. ghostface tsks, shaking his head. his movements are slow and calculated, even when he leans in, face mere inches from your face. “oh, sweet girl. he’s not coming.” you’re too afraid to recognize the voice, ready to give up and accept your destiny when… “he’s already here.” you watch with surprise and curiosity how he takes the mask off, revealing the last person you would have thought. your heart stops beating and breath gets caught in your throat. he has a wicked smile on his face, eyes so dark you can’t see the blue irises that gave you peace and reassurance at some point.

once again he moves the knife to your neck, applying enough pressure to draw blood. you hiss, body shaking with fear and something else you can’t recognize. “don’t look so surprised, i know you had your doubts about me.” he speaks quietly, kissing you on the cheek and dragging his lips downwards, stopping just above the recent cut. you can’t stop looking at him, some strange force forcing you to keep looking at the mad man. aemond keeps the eye contact all the time, even when he sucks the blood still emanating from your neck. when he pulls away, a bloody smile is plastered on his face. you feel dizzy, head spinning and eyes barely focusing on his face. you don’t know if it’s due to the cut or the recent events…. or maybe all of it. just one thought races through your mind; why would he do this? deep down you know the answer, it is only easier to pretend you don’t know. aemond grabs your chin and slaps your cheek, a sharp pain waking up all nerve ending in your body. next thing you know, his lips are on yours. it is bloody, rough, dirty. it feels good. when you moan into his mouth aemond takes it as an opportunity to slip his tongue past your lips and wreck you. your hips start moving on its own seeking friction, which aemond gives you by smacking his clothed cock against you. “you’re fucking sick.” you groan at losing his lips, smeared with your blood. he keeps thrusting into you as he cuts your top with one swift movement of his hand. you arch your back and his smile grows bigger, your round breasts too inviting. he cuts just above your nipple, his hot mouth immediately sucking and calming the ardor. you moan his name, hands pulling at his hair. “i need more… need you.” you cry out, making him laugh. but he gives you exactly what you ask for.

well, you were going to hell anyway.

#📮 ⌇ my works ˖⋆࿐#★. dark themes!#modern!aemond #aemond targaryen x reader #hotd x reader #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen fluff #aemond targaryen scenarios #aemond x reader #hotd imagine #house of the dragon

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twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat · 6 months

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(i love you, i love you (kill me in the morning) ; bonus part)

kenjaku rests on a tatami mat, admiring the ephemeral glow of the starry sky.

it’s a sight to behold, truly: the infinity within it, blooming endlessly across the milky way, before his very eyes. that swirling of indigo and pure white. endless possibilities, just out of reach — so close he can almost reach out and touch them, feel them glide across the skin of his fingertips.

slowly and sweetly, savouring the cold air, he ponders. legs crossed, hair swaying gently in the summer breeze; about this, and about that. about a plan that’s been resting in the back of his mind for thousands of years.

he wonders if there is any way you could be of use to him.

without too much contemplation needed, he decides that there isn’t. that nothing about you could benefit his goal, that there’s nothing your presence could possibly accomplish. that you have no place, in the world he resides in, no place in the narrative of the story he is crafting. no place in the clash between curses and sorcerers and everything in between.

(and kenjaku understands, without needing to peek into his host’s memories, that perhaps that is exactly why suguru geto loved you.)

he goes to visit you, anyway. just for the fun of it, just to satisfy the ingrained urge his body has to do so. and it’s fascinating, it truly is — the fondness that sprouts in the confines of his chest when his eyes meet yours. a childhood muscle memory, one this body could never fully rid itself of.

it is nothing short of horrified, the expression on your face; you look like you could pass out any second, and kenjaku finds it just a little bit amusing.

but he bites back a laugh, and his lips curl up into a smile. not the smile of a people-pleaser, nor the smile of a liar, but the smile of something rather monstrous.

kenjaku does not think you will figure him out. he does not think it possible. how could you possibly? with such miniscule cursed energy, without any concept of the soul?

and yet you do.

you tell him that he isn’t suguru geto, and you’re absolutely right. and now, kenjaku is maybe just the slightest bit intrigued.

(how strange. how amusing.

is there really no limit to what love can accomplish?)

eyes shining with barely contained, gleeful curiosity, he takes a step forward, and you call out for a dead man. a ghost. kenjaku does not expect anything to happen, because how could it?

— a hand comes up to squeeze at his throat.

it is a firm grip, with strangulation as its intended purpose. a lethal kind of ferocity. almost desperate, primal, like a mother wolf protecting her cub; the pads of his lithe fingers press into the sides of his own esophagus, and prevent any air from entering his lungs. those chipped nails dig into his pale skin, vicious and ruthless, hard enough to draw blood.

it is violent, it is gritty, it is devoted. an instinct of the body, as natural as the beating of a heart.

kenjaku can’t help it — he chokes on a laugh, as suguru’s hand curls around his throat. within the vice grip lies an old promise, molded into the very fabric of his being. a promise that transcends death.

he’ll protect you forever.

kenjaku smiles, all teeth. drool dribbling down his chin, neck bruised and bloodied. pondering; about this, and about that. about two children by a dusty summer creek.

(no matter what, huh?

— such a fool.)

#suguru is so mother wolf coded to me #kenny meeting gojo in shibuya after this n immediately getting choked out again LMAOO #“why is ur neck so bruised” “how abt we stop talking for a little while :)”#i was gonna put this part in the fic at first but i feel like the pov shift from geto->reader->kenny wouldve been too abrupt….#so i just. made a bonus thingie…. if ur reading this!! i love u !!!! tysm for reading u mean the world to meeee <33

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