#the question is how he took the measures for it

[beetlejuicyy]

The Hunt | True Form! Sukuna x Reader

Synopsis: you convince Sukuna to go for a hunt like the old times. the difference is you are his prey this time

Warnings: obviously outdoor sex, primal play, predator/prey, CNC, creampie, established relationship, light degradation, safeword (not used), chasing

Word Count: 4.4K

Read on AO3

Masterlist | Divider by @joj0su

It was going to rain soon. The king of curses could sense it in the air, although no clouds were weighing down the sky. The wind carrying your scent back to him will make his hunt much easier. He already had it on his fingers when he sniffed them, like a predator identifying its prey. It was sweet and addictive, creeping up deep into his brain, compelling him to chase more. After a few moments of pondering, he decided to grant you more time to get lost into the woods of his estate. The balance of power was already unfair enough.

What if I left your side right now and ran away?

Sukuna frowned, his agile crimson eyes measuring your small frame as if pinning you in place with one simple look. You were at the table, in the main hall, having lunch.

I would catch you faster than you can imagine.

You knew that, he could tell from the smug smile stretching across your lips as you played with the food on your plate. Sukuna had noticed already that you didn't really have an appetite.

What if I would really fight to get away from you?

Sukuna sneered in response to your silly question, taking another sip of his drink. As if you could ever overpower him.

And I would act like I don’t want you to touch me, like I want to escape.

You must have been really bored the past few days in his absence, since your mind was preoccupied with such fantasies. He leaned back, placing the upper set of arms on the floor to support his body, while the other two were crossed, dismissively.

Would you take me by force?

You finally looked up at him, doe eyes glimmering with unknown excitement through your lashes.

I would bring you back, yes. You are not allowed to leave.

Sukuna would occasionally entertain your meaningless mind games, only because he was aware of how much it pleased you when he indulged in your mischievous and curious nature. However, he was failing to understand the hidden meaning of this one.

Would you take me by force, my king?

You asked again, but this time your words were coated in a promising intent, thick and sweet like honey, your eyebrows raised in a pleading look. His head leaned to the side, his mind putting in more effort to unveil the mystery of your riddle. Your sensual voice had awakened a desire inside him, the more his red eyes looked into yours, the clearer the picture you were painting for him.

I would, yes.

You were speaking the same language, at last. He uncrossed his arms, all four of his palms pressed flat on the floor behind him. His position was inviting, but you were planning on running away.

And if I screamed?

You asked, your hand stretching across the table to pick a ripe peach. When your teeth sunk into the soft and sweet pulp a thin thread of juice spilled at the corner of your lips, falling down across your chin.

I would cover your mouth shut.

Sukuna answered, his eyes leaving your enticing ones to follow the course of the peach juice falling across the skin of your neck, down under the hem of your robe, most probably between your breasts. Suddenly, his mouth felt dry, as if the only solution to quench his thirst was that single drop of juice on your skin.

And if I kicked you?

You took another bite of fruit, the crunching sound of your teeth ripping the flesh off the seed echoing in the silent room.

I would hold you down.

For a while, you contemplated in silence while munching on your peach. Sukuna never let his eyes leave your body, his mind already stirred by the idea you implanted with your words, his pupils dilated with intoxicating lust.

I will hurt you. And you will like it.

He added after a few moments of silence as you discarded the naked peach seed on a plate. You didn’t bother wiping away the mess you made around your mouth. It was hardly visible, but there was a sticky sensation of the sugary liquid dried on your skin and the sweet smell spread in the air around you. Sukuna wanted to lean over the table and lick it off. You only smiled in response to his words, a faint, contained smile that held back a million of possibilities.

I will be taking a walk in the woods. All by myself.

You announced.

Isn’t it dangerous?

He asked with a grin.

I've heard there's a beast lurking in the forest, indeed.

You said as you sat up, gathering the flowing fabrics of your kimono. You passed by him on your way to the door and you felt one of his rough hands grab your wrist.

How do I know if you change your mind?

Sukuna could easily determine your moods and thoughts with a quick simple look, even when you would refuse to speak. However, in this hypothetical situation, that was getting closer and closer to becoming reality, he doubted he could tell the difference. You looked down at him, taking a moment to admire the savage beauty of his body, the brutality of his four muscular arms, his massive shoulders. He could break you in half. The thought only made the wetness between your legs spread.

I will use a safeword.

You buried your fingers in his soft pink hair, almost the same shade as the peach you just ate. It was highly contrasting with the rest of his appearance, bringing out the roughness of his features even more.

Which is...?

He looked up at you, all of his crimson eyes focused on yours. You leaned down to whisper in his ear, although no one was there to hear your secret.

Peach.

Sukuna felt his cocks twich when your hand gently touched his ear. He looked back at you with one eyebrow raised, skeptical.

It sounds very puerile.

For a moment, you almost lost him. What was the point of these silly artifices? If you craved him carnally, a meaningful look and a soft touch from you would be enough for him to take the hint. He could take you right there, on the table, and satisfy your sexual appetite like he always did.

How long has it been since you last went on a hunt, my king?

Sukuna licked his lips unconsciously, your words sparking vivid images in his mind. He remembered telling you tales of old times, when he would enjoy bringing the terror on his prey, wether it was an animal, a human or an enemy. It had been too long since he last enjoyed it, having grown so powerful that no one could match his speed and ferocity to be called entertaning. One hand of his creeped up between your legs under your attire, as he was still pondering on the idea. You shivered under his touch, and he smiled slighly when your fingers gripped his hair a little tighter. The tips of his fingers ghosted lightly over your cunt, barely touching it. It was enough to get them wet with your juices. For a moment, you thought he had lost all of his patience and wasn't willing to play the part anymore. However, his hand retreated, leaving you sighing in disappointment. He seemed content with his discovery, almost surprised that you got yourself that wet only by thinking of him.

Peach, huh?

The muffled voices of servants were echoing louder on the hallway. It was around time they come and check the table in case their master requested more food. If someone did step foot in the room, they might destroy all the tension you had skillfully built in order to have Sukuna indulge in your fantasy.

Don't listen to anything I say, unless I say peach. If I do, it means I've changed my mind.

You always amused him whenever you had that serious tone, almost like giving him commands. He was going to let it slide this time, though, as he let it slide so many times before.

You have ten minutes.

*

The sunlight barely made it through the thick ceiling of tree branches full of leaves. The more you ran, the darker it got. For some good minutes, you couldn't even see ahead of you until your eyes adjusted. The notion of time was already a foreign concept to you. Time was measured now in the fast pace of your beating heart, threatening to plummet out of your chest. It felt like your veins were depleted of blood and the only thing keeping you going was the fear of being caught.

You started running without thinking much about it, almost simulating. The image of Sukuna's massive build was impregnated in your mind. The more you dived into the cold darkness, the more refined your senses became. The leaves on the ground were damp on your bared feet, squirrels were jumping from branch to branch, scratching against the tree bark, the air was humind and cold, stinging your throat. Your heart was booming in your ears like a war drum, but more importantly it was pulsating between your legs, a constant reminder of who you were running from.

You had to stop and catch your breath. You were in no physical condition to be straining your body to this extent. The layers of your kimono were also making your movements more difficult, the weight and tightness around your waist uncomfortable. After filling your lungs with fresh air you decided to get rid of these impediments. To hide your tracks, you struggled to bury the outer robe you discarded under a fallen tree trunk, covering the brightly colored fabric with leaves. Now that you were lighter, with only one long and thin piece of clothing covering your body, you felt safer. The forest was overall quiet and the lack of light gave you the feeling of safety, instead of frightening you like the first time. You were still on the edge, ears focused to pick up any unusual sound, but for now, at least, you were safe.

Perhaps you should look for a place to hide. The idea came more like an instinct than a rational thought. Sukuna must have already started his hunt. While you were looking for a suitable spot where you could fit your body and conceal your presence, a flock of birds took off in the distance. The overlayed sound of ruffling leaves and fluttering wings made your heart sink for a moment. But it was only birds, so you continued your search undisturbed until a white rabbit darted out of a bush, passing by you in its frenetic run. You would have dismissed this occurence as well if you didn't feel it. It hit you like a sudden enlightenment, the air thicker, heavier as if something was breathing all of it, leaving none for the other creatures of the forest. Now it was truly quiet. The birds had fled. The squierrls were hiding inside their dens. No bunny, no deer, not even insects crawling on the wood, eating away the rotten parts of the forest. Everything seemed to have stopped, frozen, frightened.

He was coming.

Terror was creeping up your muscles, like a parasyte dictating your behaviour. It pushed you to run, but everything else around you was quiet. Wasn't it smarter to follow the natural instinct of the animals, lay low until the threat goes away? You didn't blend in with the forest, though. Your pink robe, loosely tied around your waist, was contrasting with the dark greens and browns of the environment, making you an obvious target. The more time you spent debating, frozen in your tracks, the closer it got. Although completely silent like a first class predator, his unbelieveable ferocity was travelling faster than his body. The atmosphere was soaked with it, danger waiting for you at every step. Even though you wanted to move, your body wouldn't listen. His presence alone was already overwhelming, filling the entire space with tension that was crushing you.

Your eyes windened, irises shaking in distress when you saw four red points gleaming in the darkness in front of you. Nothing more, nothing less than four small crimson circles. It was enough to trigger a response in you and your feet darted in the opposite direction, running faster than you ever imagined you could. Your heartbeat was once again hectic, your hands pushing branches and plants out of your way. You were gasping for air but there was no way you could stop. Your robe got caught in a thick bush and you pulled it forcefully, ripping it only to free yourself. He was near, almost one step behind you. He was purposefully being loud, branches cracking under his feet, his steps shaking the ground he was walking on. He wanted you to know he was there, close, maybe only one arm's length away from grabbing you by the neck.

The forest was a neverending abyss. You couldn't even tell what direction you were running in. Maybe you were heading back to the manor. Maybe you were sinking even deeper into the wild. All that you knew was that you were running away from him.

You cried out in pain when you fell on your knees, tripping. A guttural, animalic sound that was so foreign to you, almost impossible to believe that it came out of your body. You quickly turned around on the ground, trying to find out where he was. Cold sweat was running down your back and you were panting, half because of effort, half because of terror.  Your knees were bruised. Your hair unkempt. Your robe torn at the hems. Yet, he was nowhere to be seen. His absence was alarming. You couldn't even see him coming, couldn't anticipate where you should run. You felt your robe soaked around your outer thigh, the wet sensation tingling your skin. You looked up, thinking it had started raining, although there was no sound of raindrops hitting the ground.

And you saw him.

In the tree above you, standing on a thick branch. The mouth on his abdomen was fully manifested, the tongue poking out above the knot tied around his waist, thick saliva oozing down, dripping on you. You felt choked, deprived of air, although he was at a fair distance from you. Sukuna hopped down, landing right in front of you with a sound so loud and earth-shaking it resembled thunder. You tried crawling back, heels slipping on the grass under you. For every three frantic movements of your limbs he took one calm step, closing in the distance.

"Get away from me!" Your voice sounded threatening, although you were in no position to.

The strength in your legs was almost used up. You didn't think you could stand up, not to mention do it fast enough to  escape him.

He ignored you, taking another step. It seemed like there were two beasts inside him: the calm, calculated hunter that  chased and cornered you and the savage, famished creature that showed through his abdomen, salivating at your sight.

In a split moment he was leaning over you, his massive frame caging you against the ground, teeth sinking in your neck. Your artery pulsated under your skin, full of fresh blood running frantically. You found the force to kick his legs, trying to get him off you, but he wouldn't budge. All of his four arms were supporting his body above yours, two on each side of your struggling form. You could hear his feral breath right under your ear. You screamed and hit him as hard as you could, to no avail. The tongue on his abdomen ran over your skin, spreading its spit all over your tummy and your core. When its tip creeped between your legs, tasting your juices, he groaned like a famished animal that was finally getting his long deserved meal. It took a lot of effort not to submit to his touch, like you usually did. Instead, your mouth kept screaming curses at his name, begging for help in the middle of an empty forest where he was king. Two of his hands held your body in place, one kneading your soft breast while the other held you by the hip, his nails painfully digging in your skin, the muscles of his arms flexed in the effort of holding you in place.

You managed to grab his hair, pulling as tightly as you could to get his face away from your neck, where he was already leaving marks. One arm was sufficient for him to support his body, his knees already forcing your thighs spread apart on the ground. So he used the fourth hand to pull yours away from his hair. He caught your other wrist in his grip as well, pushing your arms above your head so you wouldn't defy him anymore.

"Let me go!" You shrieked, your arms aching because of his forceful grip. With every moment his teeth sank into a new spot on your neck you expected him to rip your flesh off your bones, that's how exhilarated he seemed to consume you. Something about you neck, the back of your ear, your tangled dirty hair, it seemed to have a particular smell that was getting him off because he kept sniffing and licking the area like a wild animal. "No!" You howled, your legs fighting to stay closed while the large tongue moved between your folds, wet and warm, sending a numbing pleasure all through your body.

You had never made Sukuna lose his self control like this before. The way you were fighting under him awakened the animal inside, his senses sharper than ever. Your cries were music to his ears. Your kicks were only encouraging him to hold you down even more. But most of all, your smell, your raw intoxicating smell, it was irresistible. Not altered by any artificial fragrance, not washed away by any water. His face was buried in the crook of your neck, where it was the strongest, and he was aiming to get you sweating all of it out of your body. Perhaps this blinding obsession was the reason he lost focus because, when you unexpectedly kicked your knee at the corner of his large abdomen mouth he growled in pain, grip losening on your body.

You took this chance to slide away, driven by adrenaline alone. It seemed that your instincts had unlocked a primal power inside of you, because you never even dared to hope that you could hurt the beast that Sukuna was. You were almost on your feet again, supporting your body on your arms to force it stand up when his hand grabbed your hair harshly and you fell back on the ground on all fours. You howled in pain like a wounded animal as he pulled you by the hair, forcing your back to arch.

"You have nowhere to run." He spoke for the first time as he leaned over your body, his voice hoarse and unfamiliar.

Your scream echoed in the entire forest when one of his cocks penetrated you, losing no time to adjust. But you didn't scream because of pain. There was no pain to feel when you were so wet, so prepared for him as he slipped inside you so easily, your walls tightening around his length in a welcoming feeling. His thrusts were fast and harsh from the start, the knot of pleasure tightening in your belly immediately. His other cock was rubbing between your ass cheeks as he forced himself into you in a frenzy, grunting and growling in the lowest, most savage voice that seemed to come straight from the depths of hell. Your cries turned to moans of pleasure, your body shaking according to his rhythm, your muscles tensed in anticipation for your orgasm. You couldn't fight against him anymore in that position, when he was fucking you like a wild animal.

You yelped in pain when he forced his other cock inside your walls, stretching you forcefully, knowing you could take all of him. You had to take all of him. Tears ran down your cheeks as your eyes were shut tightly, the only thing you could focus on being his two massive cocks inside your dripping wet cunt, abusing it relentlessly. He had both your hands behind your back, using you like a lifeless rag doll. In a seemingly kind gesture, his hand caressed your cheek, a mouth opening in his palm to wipe away your tears, only to press agains your mouth, silencing you. The tongue forced itself into your mouth, circling along with your own tongue. He could force your body to bend as much as he pleased, pulling your arms further back and pressing his hand tighter against your mouth, hitting your sweet spot over and over and over, even if it meant breaking you in half.

The sounds of his hips slamming against yours echoed in the dark forest, your muffled cries and his hysterical growls warning everything and everyone to stay away. The two arms that had been keeping your hips in place wrapped themselves around your waist, pulling your back straigth against his torso, this new angle allowing him to reach new, untouched spots inside of you. The tongue retreated from your mouth, leaving you a drooling mess, unable to protest anymore, and moved lower to suck on your nipples. Your head was bouncing against his chest as he thrusted into you, and you could almost hear the unnaturally fast pace of his heartbeat. Your hands found two of his wrists, fingers wrapping weakly around them, pressing his touch even more against your body.

His head dipped into the crook of your neck, taking a deep breath of your intoxicating smell before biting your ealobe.

"You could have ended this already." He growled into your ear, thrilled by your body's eager response to him. Your hands were desperately clinging to him, your smell so attractive and obsessive pulling him in, your cunt tightening around his cocks, taking him so well. His thrusts were getting sloppier and slower, but nowhere near weaker. "But you love it when I hunt you down and take you like an animal." You gasped with every swift and deep thrust. "Look." He said, and when he noticed your eyes wouldn't open, he growled the command in your ear again. "Look." His hand forced your head down. "Look how well you're taking me." Another hand moved to press against your navel. Right below it, a bulge was swelling round and disappearing under your skin as his cocks pushed in and out of you. You couldn't articulate any words in response. Instead, your head fell back against his chest, eyes shut tightly, feeling your orgasm approaching. Your whole body felt tight, muscles tensed. He was manhandling you with ease, two arms around each thigh keepibg the m apart, the other two around your upper body, knees hovering over the ground. One of his hands moved to make sure you would be reaching your high along with him, only the tips of his fingers barely touching your sensitive bud of nerves enough to have you whimpering even louder.

The feeling of thick ropes of cum inside you came at the same time with your orgasm. You weakly protested when he still thrusted inside you, slower, making sure his seed stays inside, although it was so much that it was spilling out and dripping over his balls and on the ground. He let you go, at last, the moment he completely pulled out of you echoing with a loud pop! in the empty forest. He had you so stretched, so fucked out, semen still dripping out of your hole as he laid you down on the grass.

You were panting and shivering, your heartbeat still beating insanely fast. But your whole body was relaxing, almost melting into the ground. The feeling of the soft grass blanket under your naked body, cooling your heat, and the humind air cleaning out your mind were truly soothing. For a moment, you almost forgot Sukuna was still there, your mind blank. The sound of raindrops hitting the tree leaves pulled you out of your haze. You were cold. As you turned around on your back you noticed Sukuna sitting next to you, with his robe messily put back on, his body towering above yours to shield you from the rain.

He seemed to have awakened from his frenzy too, because there was no sight of the thirsty creature that chased you. Instead, he was inspecting your body, evaluating his success on the hunt.

His piercing eyes made you snap back to reality and you became very aware of the fact that you were naked. You curled on the ground, unconsciously, arms covering your breasts, trying to be as small as you could.

"What are you so modest for now?" He almost scolded you, his voice back to the usual tone you knew. However, he wrapped you in the remnants of the torn robe you had on when he found you, right before ripping it off. You didn't even remember when that happened.

"T-thank you." You said, pulling the fabric over your shoulder. He picked you up with his two upper arms and you wrapped yours around his neck for support. It felt almost like the end of an unusuap sacrificial ritual, when the ancient priest would offer the dead lamb to a god. Except you were not dead and he was the god. Maybe this is how it happened on the other side, the immortal soul of the sacrificial lamb being welcomed among-

"Are you asleep?" Sukuna asked. The natural sounds of the forest were filling your ears now that the danger was gone. "You'll catch a cold."

"N-no. I was just resting my eyes." You shivered when his face kept touching yours, his nose sniffing at your neck and hair as he walked you out of the forest. You were dirty, of course you were, and sweaty and wet with all filthy fluids.

"Hm. Strange." He concluded. "It's gone."

You didn't have the energy to ask any more questions. Besides, he seemed to be talking to himself. You could feel your body warm up again against his. Soon, you were out of the forest, heading back to the manor.

《previous: Corruption | next》: Ascension |

Geto Suguru x reader True Form! Sukuna x reader

#sukuna x reader #sukuna ryomen #sukuna smut #true form sukuna #true form sukuna smut #jjk #sukuna jjk #ryomen sukuna #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen imagines #sukuna imagine

[rottenpumpkin13]

Sephiroth grows his wing, but it's a slow and painful process.

Angst opportunity let's go

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

He first sensed something amiss at age twelve, when his right shoulder blade started itching one morning. At first, it was just a minor annoyance, a mild itch he could easily ignore. By that afternoon he found himself constantly contorting his arm, scratching his shoulder blade through his uniform. The sensation grew more insistent each passing day. He had to hide his discomfort from Hojo, knowing the man might resort to drastic measures with unnecessary surgical procedures to uncover the source of the problem.

In hindsight, digging into his skin to find the root cause might have been a mercy. By the time he turned thirteen, the itch had evolved into a persistent, dull ache, still tinged with that maddening itchiness. He started taking longer showers, hoping the cold water cascading over his shoulder blade would offer some relief from the strange sensation. Perhaps it was because of his age and changing body that Hojo didn’t question his prolonged showers. The cold water offered a relief from the relentless discomfort that had sunk itself into his daily reality, permeating every moment as he became more and more aware of the problem.

By age fourteen, the pain had intensified into a constant, throbbing agony. Mornings were the worst—he woke up aching, unable to share his distress with Hojo, fearing the man’s brutal methods. Asking for medicine was out of the question unless he wanted an invasive examination to be conducted, so he turned to books and medical texts, desperately searching for answers that seemingly did not exist.

The pain escalated as he turned fifteen, and a new, unsettling development emerged. Fortunately, he now had friends to confide in.

"It definitely looks like a bone," Genesis observed skeptically, brushing his finger over the small nub on Sephiroth's shoulder blade, which seemed on the verge of breaking through the skin.

Sephiroth sat shirtless on a cot in the command tent, Genesis behind him, with Angeal peering over his shoulder, both of them assessing the wound—if he could even call it that.

"Does it hurt when I press it?" Genesis asked before applying said pressure with his thumb.

"Ow!" Sephiroth hissed with a sharp intake of breath, his left hand shooting across his chest and instinctively grabbing at the nub. "Yes."

"Gen!" Angeal reprimanded, swiftly moving to gently remove the redhead's hands from Sephiroth's back.

"What?" Genesis protested splaying his hands defensively. "I'm just ensuring it's not serious. Pain often signals underlying issues, you know."

Angeal's response was an exasperated sigh as he shooed Genesis from the cot. "Okay, Dr. Rhapsodos, put a sock in it." He sat down in his place. "Let me have a look."

Though Sephiroth couldn't see Angeal's expression, he could sense his apprehension. Angeal, a stickler for rules, was clearly concerned about the implications of probing into Sephiroth's potential injury, especially given how "precious" he was to the program.

"What if it's fractured?" Angeal suggested, his gentle fingers dragging around the nub. "I've seen fractures before, and they can cause protrusions like this. It needs proper treatment."

Sephiroth reiterated that it wasn't bone protruding, explaining it was a chronic issue he'd managed for three years now. Their lack of a solution left Sephiroth with no choice but to endure it. He swallowed the pain medication they offered him and returned to the battlefield. In war, weaknesses were a luxury they couldn't afford.

At age sixteen, it had broken through his skin—a black nub, adding to the enigma as neither he nor his friends could offer any explanation. Sephiroth took to avoiding public showers and keeping his shirt on whenever possible. He anticipated the inevitable when Hojo summoned him for a full-body examination, dreading the moment when it would be revealed.

Though this time, perhaps a surgical intervention to remove it was the solution he had been seeking.

Instead, he found himself perched on one of those uncomfortable metal slab tables in Hojo's private laboratory, shirtless while the scientist scrutinized the protrusion, meticulously reviewing numerous X-rays Sephiroth had been forced into.

Each time he inquired about the anomaly, the professor responded with an unsettling silence, only expressing disappointment that Sephiroth hadn't brought it up sooner. It struck Sephiroth as eerie how casually Hojo treated the situation, as if having a foreign object piercing through his skin was common.

To his utter bewilderment, after hours of exhaustive examination, Hojo released him with a simple remark: "Everything seems to be in order.”

Sephiroth's mind went blank, his gaze fixed on the man before him, half-expecting the revelation that it was a joke—as if. Hojo was hardly one for humor. Instead, Hojo merely instructed him to leave. So Sephiroth obeyed, swallowing back the tears he was definitely too old for now.

It wasn't until he turned seventeen that he began to understand what was happening to his body. A solitary black feather sprouted from the nub.

"It's a wing," Genesis stated matter-of-factly. They were examining him, as they had done countless times before. This time, they stood in the communal showers, Angeal and Genesis observing the peculiar feather from behind him. "You're sprouting a wing," Genesis remarked, seemingly unfazed by the absurdity of the situation. "That's what's been happening."

Angeal remained silent, something he did when he wanted to agree without the need to verbalize it.

Sephiroth kept his hair draped over one shoulder. He had recently started growing it out, and found that its length proved useful in concealing the black nub when he found himself shirtless among others.

"How is this even possible?" Sephiroth mused aloud, though primarily to himself, yet Genesis seized the opportunity to respond nonetheless.

"I suppose Hojo would give you the same spiel he did about your peculiar eyes—that you're some kind of superior being, beyond the scope of mere humans..." Genesis huffed a breath of amusement. "And now, a blend of cat and bird."

Angeal's swift, wet slap against Genesis's skin prompted the redhead to retract his hands with a squeak.

"Not funny," Angeal reprimanded him before gently turning Sephiroth around. This time, he looked purposefully optimistic, his expression a mix of reassurance and determination to make everything alright. "You'll be alright," he stated simply. “If anything, think of it like an angel wing.”

For a fleeting moment, Sephiroth almost believed him, wing and all, if not for the nagging question lingering at the back of his mind: "Angel wings were white, indicating their purity. If his was black, what did that mean for him?

#ff7 #ffvii #final fantasy 7 #sephiroth #final fantasy vii #ffvii crisis core #genesis rhapsodos #ff7 crisis core #angeal hewley #writing

[henneseyhoe]

Home Alone.

Lewis Hamilton X Black!Fem!Reader

WARNINGS:Brief hitting, pain kink, masturbat!on, Sub!Lewis, Dom!Reader, smutty flashbacks,slightly unedited, SHORT!

SUMMARY: Lewis feels neglected so he takes matters into his own hands.

✮✮✮✮

“You just don’t listen, do you?”

The stinging he felt on his bronzed skin was like fire to his backside. Every crack of your whip came with a soothing rub or caress before contradicted by another smack and the thong you once wore that morning made for good use as a gag, the cotton stuffed in his mouth being the only thing blocking his moans from bleeding into the hallway. When you had told him not to cum while you were gone, he blew you off. If anything he’d have more than enough time to cum.. over and over again. He hadn’t had the pleasure of being inside you in weeks, which came with reason. You were busy, and unfortunately around this time your fiancé was taking a break.

“Do you need anything? Let me know now” You alarmed your soon to be husband and gathered your keys, putting them in your purse. You felt his strong arms snake their way around your waist, his tatted hands roaming your soft stomach and sides.

“I need you”

He spoke against your neck, making you roll your eyes for what felt the hundredth time that day. This had been his third attempt to bed you.

“Lewis..” You warned and he groaned your nickname, throwing his head back.

“Did I do something? Cause this feels like punishment and I don’t think i can last any longer” He was truthful. He felt one minor brush up against him could have a wet spot in his briefs.

You turn to him and cup his face in your hands. “How the hell did you survive when you were single? There’s no way you need sex this often”

“you want an honest answer?” He questioned and you squint, letting him go. “No, actually…I might punch you and I don’t need your white side kicking in and calling the law on me” You joke then kiss his lips before slipping away from his hold.

He couldn’t even enjoy your crack at him in peace, another groan exiting his mouth as you escaped him. “I have no energy to feel humor right now, I need to cum first”

“Then I suggest you wait for when I wanna give it to you” You gave him one last glare before leaving. He knew what that meant and cared less at the moment.

While you put on your big girl pants on and went out to stock up on food for the month, your fiancé took it upon himself to take care of that itch he has had for the passed week. He uncaringly left the bedroom door cracked open, more focused on the less dominant hand around his long shaft gripping the base to keep him from cumming too quick after that first round.

He held his right hand around his tip, slowly jerking himself off again once he felt that familiar pressure and heat in his muscles dissolving. He had precum beading on his tip, the clear and sticky liquid trickling, almost tickling the underside of his shaft before the trail was stopped by his hand. He thought about your warm walls and digging into you deep, so deep that the cum from the round before was forced out of you, pooling around the base of him and your entrance until it began dripping down to the sheets.

He couldn’t take the image of you being sprawled out for him, or on your knees, or with your ass up and face down. Any position had his head spinning and his stomach muscles burning with the need to un-flex, but he was on the edge and it was almost impossible to not tense up without cumming all over himself, particularly his stomach and chest, and he wasn’t done playing yet.

He hadn’t thought about his favorite times like when you’d fuck yourself in front of him, an exact replica of his dick measurements from tip to base and width shoved inside of you with no hip or thigh barrier stopping you from getting each and every inch, your chest heaving up and down the faster you went.

He hadn’t yet thought about when he ate you out all night to the point you cried and wet up your new sheets. His lips tasted like you till the morning when he reluctantly washed it off, remembering he could just go and get another taste whenever he wanted it.

He hadn’t thought about when you sucked his dick on your first date night after the engagement, taking him down your throat as your head hung off of the edge of the bed. He had watched the imprint of his thick dick penetrate your throat, satisfied shivers running along his skin as he heard you gag with every thrust of his hips. Even with the gags, you took him like a champ, as if he dick belonged there and should have never left from the first time.

As he began to think about it all, he had no idea the woman of the hour had been watching almost the entire time.

✮✮✮✮

💌ps.| this was originally gonna be about jude bellingham but then i found out that nigga is 20 and i was like ohhh that’s not- ???? 💀 i could have sworn he was 22 like huh?!

#henneseyhoe #black fanfic writer #black fanfiction #black!reader #black reader #black!fem!reader #masterlist #black!oc #lewis hamilton x black female oc #lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton smut #lewis hamilton one shot #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton fanfic #lewis hamilton x black reader #lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton x black!reader #f1 x black!reader #f1 fanfic

[thethingswedotomorrow]

How hard it must have been during the thousands of years Aziraphale and Crowley had to spend distanced from each other, so close but just barely out of reach?

Aziraphale thinking of Crowley every time something notable happened, mentally preparing all sorts of stories to tell him the next time they met. Passing his time working out how to frame his words in just the right order to pull a rare smile, or Heaven help him, maybe even a laugh.

Crowley ambling through towns half drunk, scanning every crowd for a head of white curls he knew would never appear. Searching for a smile he knew could never belong to anything other than a divine being, for eyes that Crowley knew he'd never in eternity earn the right to be seen by.

Aziraphale feeling such disdain at the demonic workings of the Other Side, and all they'd hope to accomplish with humanity, but still searching out one very specific, very serpentine demonic mark anywhere he went. When questioned, he would claim it was a principality's duty to be aware of his enemies. But he got a sort of sinking feeling in his stomach, the kind he could only match to the incident with Job, and a certain flaming sword.

Crowley trying to roam the Earth and relish all that humanity offered. All the pride and greed, if he took the credit he figured he'd might as well benefit from it. He was there for the greatest moments, the orchestras and the plays, the monuments and the paintings. All any of it did was remind him of the one other being in existence who he would like to enjoy it with. Without Aziraphale, it all just seemed to leave a bitter taste in his mouth.

Aziraphale finding himself, on days when he can't seem to quiet his own thoughts, turning to his left without quite knowing why. He only knew that he was always disappointed beyond measure when all he found was empty space, and no quick witted comment or sympathetic eyebrow raise.

Crowley driving down Whickber Street once a week like clockwork, but never brave enough to let himself slow when he passes Aziraphale's shop. He only allows himself one quick glance, just to ensure the Angel's safety. Anything else would be selfish, and Crowley knew deep down that he never was a very good demon.

Aziraphale stopping in at local pet shops around London, but only ever goes to the reptilian section. He'd never admit it, of course, but the sharp eyes and pointed tongues reminded him of companionship. A luxury he was keenly aware he could never afford.

Crowley, sitting in the backroom of an empty bookshop. Realizing now just how very close they had been. They were within reach. They had reached, he did at least. After four years, he realizes now how complacent he had gotten, so much so that he'd forgotten just how much loneliness stung.

He'd been worse off before, of course. After the fall he truly had nobody. No one to trust, to turn to, not even anyone to pray to.

All it had taken was four years free of Hell and Heaven, four years full of Aziraphale, of daily lunches and strolls through parks and gluing coins to the sidewalk to make the Angel sigh, of drinks after dinner and almost brushing hands, four years of almost, four years of not quite pretending.

He thinks they could have gotten there soon enough. Without the whole Gabriel and the Second Coming business, they could have made it. Their entire existence, they'd been a team. They'd spent so many centuries too close and too far at the same time, what's a few more years? He'd never know now.

Crowley, sitting in the backroom of an empty bookshop.

Aziraphale, sitting in his newly appointed office, reviewing the paperwork for his new position as Supreme Archangel.

They were so close.

#good omens #aziraphale #crowley #ineffable boyfriends #otp: ineffable #ineffable #good omens crowley #good omens aziracrow #good omens aziraphale #crowley x arizaphale #good omens s2 #good omens fic #good omens headcanon #crowley x aziraphale #crowley aziraphale #aziracrow #crowly #crowly good omens #good omens headcanons #good omens prime #crowley good omens #aziraphale x crowley #azirowley #ineffable partners #ineffable idiots #ineffable husbands #ineffable spouses #ineffable divorce

[writingfromasgard]

Unmasked [Soap]

Masterlist || Requests || gif by unknown

cw: mentions of violence, grown man crying

Johnny knows why the life he snuffed out tonight effected him more than any other life he's taken. He had watched them gurgle on their own blood, eyes glazing over as he stood above them. Their eyes had looked too similar to yours and he couldn't keep the picture of it being your actual eyes out of his head. He crushes the palm of his hand against his forehead, begging the thoughts to stop returning as he sat on the stoop in front of your shared home.

His brain plays it on loop, a fear that is unreasonable by any measure. He's damned worried he'll turn the knob and find you on the floor with eyes no shinier than the deadman's. His mind took it ever further now; feeding him flashes of a bloodied body that's cold to the touch.

The door creaks open behind him, a gentle touch of your hands landing on his broad shoulders. He swallows the lump in his throat, tuning back into his body as he feels the chill on his skin.

"Johnny, you're freezing. John said you hadn't checked in with him either." His bastard name sounds so sweet when you say it like that, filled with worry over a man who kills for a living.

He works hard to keep the tremble out of his voice when he responds, "Aye, I needed tae clear my head a bit, pet."

His hand reaches up to cover your hand on his shoulder, giving it a nice pat to reassure you. You take a step to look at his face, concern etched on that lovely face of yours.

"Can I stay with you until it's cleared?" Gods, what an angel you are for saying that.

The harmless question comes with its own set of claws that rip into his heart, forcing him to shut his eyes tightly. His hand leaves yours to run over his mohawk, now damp from the early morning mist.

"Na, I'm comin'." He forces himself to his feet, eyes glancing downward until he faces you.

His normally vibrant blue eyes look into yours, dark crescent shapes under them. Those damned images flash back into his mind despite how lively you look. You stumble backwards as he curls his hulking frame around you, dragging you into the tightest embrace he can.

The noise you make and the insistent tapping on his side make him loosen up, still keeping your bodies flush with one another. He's soaking in the warmth of your body, the smell, the fabric of your pajamas.

"Cannae live without you." He whispers, burying his face into your neck. "You ken that? You ken you're my world?"

You melt against him much to his pleasure, wrapping your arms around him. "Of course I ken."

He laughs at your attempt to copy his accent. It sounds hollow to him, probably you, too. He starts to sway a little, indulging himself in feeling how you move against him. You aren't limp or cold or dying. You're alive with warmth that you're lending to him.

"Let's get you into a hot shower." You whisper against his ear. "You're too cold, Johnny."

"Never cold with you." He mumbles, walking you backwards through the door.

He closes the door with his foot, finally letting go of your body. His hands cup both cheeks of your face and he stares for a long time, committing those shining orbs he fell in love with to memory. No, committing the liveliness in them to memory.

"Don't ken what I'd do without you." He pecks your lips far more innocently than he's ever done before. "Don't ever want to know."

He hears the voice crack and sees your hand reaching up, wiping at his own cheek. "What happened? A close call?"

He shakes his head vehemently. He knows he's crying, can feel the snot start to clog up his nose. "They had your eyes. Same shade. Same speckles.. I.. I cannae stop seein' you behind their mask."

Your expression squeezes his heart, so compassionate, so much worry. He knows you don't know what to do. You're probably freaking out in that pretty little head of yours, too. No one wants to hear that their significant other pictured them dead, shot by their hands.

You slip out of his hands, pressing against him again. Your hand pulls him in by the back of his neck, your noses bump against each other before your lips meet.

"I'm here." You whispered against his lips, diving back into another kiss. "I'm here."

He can taste the salty tears slipping between your lips, his arms crush you against his chest again, lifting you slightly. He walks both of you through the threshold, foot closing the door behind him.

He lets you break from him, following behind you like a lost puppy as he wipes away the snot and tears. You undress him, kissing his skin. He loves when you do this, grounds him unbelievably well. A shower later and he's right where he wants to be again.

Johnny has one of his arms hooked around your waist with a light blanket over the two of you. He buries his nose in the crook of your neck, listening to you read a chapter of a book the two of you picked together.

#john soap mactavish #john mactavish x reader #soap x you #john mactavish #john mactavish x you #soap x reader #soap fanfic #johnny mactavish

[morastfrck]

my part of an art trade with @liirica

#ah yes the crazy ones #okay but the real question is not why batman has a joker sized gimp mask #the question is how he took the measures for it #bitches are crazy #batjokes #joker #dc joker #dc #batman : deadly duo #batman #art trade #fanart #batman and joker: deadly duo

[sketching-shark]

It's been a while since the last time I asked you Shark

But I have a new question:

What do you think about the retellings of JTTW, where Tang Sanzang proves to be able to stand up for himself or that he literally can also fight alongside Sun Wukong, Zhu Bajie, Sha Wujing and even Bai Long Ma/Ao Lie (who lately I've noticed has started to grab more fame and recognition, being more and more dynamic and part of the group than just being a simple background character)?

I think the most famous version of this kind of retellings is "The Westward" (I like the design of that Tang Sanzang)

PS: It's good to be back

Oh hey! Good to see you again too @wiings-kwami! And in regards to your question, while I fully appreciate that this is a very inadequate answer I guess that depends on how it's used asdfrweadf. TBH the idea that Tang Sanzang can fight back against or at least somewhat defend himself against yaoguai is a potentially really neat idea! As is in the og classic he is the second most static member of the pilgrim group, and this could provide an opportunity for him to be active and explicitly grown and change instead of regularly acting as the embodiment of the "damsel in distress" trope lol. THAT SAID, I can also easily see this being used to shove the monk into the role of "badass fighter" and keep him a static character that way...I know everyone makes fun of Tang Sanzang for crying and falling off his dragon horse, and while some of this is warranted tbh I feel like a more interesting story could be told by addressing WHY he's crying so much rather than putting him in the opposite direction as a stoic fighter. So at the end of the day and as with any other trope out there, I'd say making Tang Sanzang into a warrior monk is potentially a cool idea, but it's less about him being that and more about how it's executed.

#ask answered #jttw retellings #jttw au #tang sanzang #sorry it took me so long to get to this question wiings aaaaaa #but yeah you know tang sanzang as a warrior monk could be really neat! #like it could be a really cool way to delve into the history of China's warrior monks #& how their sect was established from a recognition of a need for monks to protect themselves in a war-torn China #which could also be part of a backstory explaining Tang Sanzang's unrelenting desire to get the scriptures #after all his family was torn apart by bandits #who generally speaking to thrive in war-torn areas #or who are even often made up of former soldiers #it could also be part of why he has such great admiration for Emperor Taizong #who may have had 'countless people' executed while establishing his rule #but who also brought about some measure of stability to China #plus making Tang Sanzang a warrior monk could demonstrate his real adherence to buddhism in the way he only uses it for self-defense #in contrast to his disciples who often used violence to get what they wanted #in a kind of 'I know I'm capable of great violence but I choose not to every day and this is why' sort of way #on the other hand #it could also be used to show how helpless he is against a lot of yaoguai #like yeah the martial arts are good against humans #but idk how effective that's going to be against a guy who can for example breathe fire lol #anyway! #lots of possibilities with this concept

[44st4rs]

STILL GOIN' TIL 6 IN THE MORN!

✫ ˚♡ ⋆｡ ❀ synopsis: with work piling and little time to with his supportive wife, Nanami's left with one option!

✫ ˚♡ ⋆｡ ❀ pairings: wife!fem!reader x nanami kento

✫ ˚♡ ⋆｡ ❀ cw: 1.5k+ words, headcannon+ drabble format, oral(f.receiving), crémepies, implied oversimulation

✫ ˚♡ ⋆｡ ❀ words from chris: this piece is in honor of @s0dium 's milestone event! congrats to you darling!

Time has always been the only thing Nanami can’t help, no matter how much he tries. 

From dawn to dusk, his mind’s plagued with thoughts of work—deadlines, team meetings, trying to maintain his composure.  

But truth is—he’s just teasing past his own limits, something he’s been staring at for the last few weeks. Work takes up his entire life and leaves what matters most to him on the back burner, including his precious wife. 

Only the heavens know you take it, but it’s the one prayer of Nanami’s that seems to hold true. He has to wonder—how do you deal with him?

You’re always there with a warm home, a hot meal, kind words, and a smile that does nothing but milk the guilt from Nanami’s soul. He knows his work life is taking a toll on you, but you hide it so well for him. 

It’s rare when Nanami chooses himself, but when he does, he’s acting in your favor too. There’s only one place Nanami’s willing to go into overtime for…

It’s been hours since Nanami piloted his own course and it’s been a hell of a ride. A ride that’s got you lathered in sweat, your hot skin spry from countless orgasms, and a nasty endurance to keep up with the likes of your husband. 

He’s managed to lure you beneath his spell of thanks to the simple question about his day. That’s how he got you because he did tell you about his day—but with his head buried between your lips and his lips busy with your pussy. 

He took his time to spell out every. single. word with deft strokes of his tongue. Filth was the only way to describe the way his tongue coils at your clit, enlisting help from the thick pad of his thumb to pull back the puffy hold. It was all for good measure, he was just taking extra care to emphasize that the  ‘S’ bleeds through. 

And because of his carefulness, you were already creaming on his tongue before he was done explaining with his morning.

Since you wanted to know about his whole day, Nanami had no choice but to sit back on his haunches and explain the rest.

An explanation that came with that devastating stretch of his cock. 

An explanation that came in delirious strides of Nanami’s hips against your own. He’s desperate for the heaven he knows exists because you’re right in front of him. So he’ll work, work at your sweet spot to draw out that blossoming heat nestled at your core in hopes that you’ll introduce him to that same nirvana. 

And it’s been how many rounds? The numbers didn’t matter much when each time he paints your walls white, his balls are forced to bear yet another swelling bloat of cum. 

He’s filled you more times than your poor brain would let you count and he still wasn’t finished. 

And maybe it’s the fatigue talking, but Nanami’s just can’t bring himself to part from you. Were you always this tight? This warm?Just the teasing flit of your silky walls was enough to send Nanami spiraling down his own fever dream.

And it’s so selfish of him to force you into his sick game, but he’s missed this more than you know. Seeing those tears decorate your puffy cheek, your hands clawing merciful crimson streaks along his tummy, and your pretty pussy sputtered dumb with slick and split around the pudgy girth of his cock. 

“Mmm. K-Ken…”you whimper, turning your head away from his sinful gaze. 

“Hm, talk to me, Angel. T-Tell me ‘nd it’s yours.”

And the words are sitting right at the tip of your tongue, but your lulling eyes fall on a sight that breaks the spell of lust over your body. 

That damned alarm clock. 

“Kento! Hold on, it’s…6 o’clock! You’ve gotta—”

“Shhh, don’t…hah fuck…don’t worry, Baby.”

Oh, it’s so cute how much you care about him. You’re a sputtering mess on his cock but his work still finds room inside that hazy brain of yours.

He’s thinking about what a horrible life he’s conditioned upon you. Not a hair on your pretty head should even think about that wretched place and here you are paying it a thought during a time that’s sacred between man and wife. 

Just to ease that burden off of you, Nanami leans in to press a sweet kiss on your lips. It’s six in the morning but Nanami’s far from reaching his goal. 

His goal of focusing on you. 

TAGS: @po3ticb3auty @ebiharachan @kenmasbimbo @pixelsanji @slaughterakira  @woahhajime @hannas16 @omniuravity @sweeneyblue1 @yukihime-mikeys-girl @kazusugar @jjjangsta @10-jiku @missyasma @a3trogirl @chaoticevilbakugo @desiray562 @lovemegood @luvrdrop @yourmommy52726 @tojibreedingme @widepipepaladiknight @tojishugetiddies @taesd-urag @nekoriots @ladyackerman @ladyackermann @holychocopie @bloobrryktty @dukina @hon3ybee-3 @dabis0bitch @kensgff @23victoria @sisnot @insideboburnham @shima707 @patchi-chi @brokenheartshards @akiko0-0 @mx-luvzz @whore02 @lilystarknette @your-favorite-god @missakward123 @ssetsuka @alwaysfreakingout @httpstoyosi

#jujutsu kaisen #jujustsu kaisen smut #jjk nanami #nanami kento smut #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk drabbles #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen nanami #nanami smut #nanami kento #nanami x reader #jujutsu nanami #nanami x you #jjk x reader #cw sex mention #cw smut #//✫ ˚♡ ⋆｡ ❀—𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈!// #//✫ ˚♡ ⋆｡ ❀—𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒’𝐒 𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐋𝐋!//

[daycourtofficial]

Wingspan Matters

Summary: based on this request, you, Nesta, and Feyre catch your mates in a pissing contest over their wingspans

Author’s note: silly little crack hehe

Word count: ~1k

You poured yourself another cup of tea as Feyre and Nesta began squabbling over something you really couldn’t bring yourself to care about. You looked out the window, taking in the nice spring weather. A light breeze was flowing through the trees, causing the branches to move in a dance to the wind’s patterns.

You watch as the birds flit by, their song a lament to the end of winter, as if they too were sending their thanks to the Mother for spring to return. It’s the first warm day in months, the first day that your forearms won’t get cold being exposed to the air.

The life around you seems to dance and sing at the joyous return of spring - insects buzz past the windows, their high pitched frequencies a delight to your ears. You don’t let yourself think for too long about how the resurrection of spring will cause Cassian to snore even louder than before.

Perhaps you and Azriel can plan an escape to the Summer Court for a few weeks. Hopefully the distance and the crashing of waves will be enough to block out Cassian’s loud snoring.

You get lost in a daydream of laying on the beach with Azriel, either in the sand or in hammocks, applying a protective balm to his wings. The sun is warm on your skin, the salty spray of the ocean in your hair.

Muffled shouting disturbs both your daydream and whatever quarrel Nesta and Feyre were in the middle of. The three of you open the doors to the balcony, leaning over the railing to find your mates in a circle in a clearing on the property, their tan skin and large, dark wings making them stand out amidst the greenery that surrounds them. 

Azriel was standing to the side, looking incredibly smug with his arms crossed over his chest as he watches his two brothers. Cassian has a piece of ribbon that he was holding up to Rhysand’s back. The two kept bickering, over what you couldn’t discern.

Before any of you could question what the two were discussing, Rhysand took the ribbon from Cassian and pushed him off. Cassian landed on the ground, but immediately sprung back up, his hands coming up and shoving Rhysand off the rock he was perched on.

“Looks like the bats are finally measuring themselves,” Nesta muses, bringing her cup to her lips.

You could hear Rhys’s laugh from the balcony as he sprung up, keeping low to the ground as he charged at Cassian, his shoulder hitting Cassian’s hips. He pushed Cassian into the ground, causing Cassian to push his weight upwards so the two of them begin rolling around on the ground, punches and curses being shared to and fro. 

Feyre chuckles, “it seems Azriel’s already won.”

Nesta peers back to you over her cup, “I don’t think it’s just Azriel that’s won.”

“Don’t draw yourself up too short, Nes. I think Cassian’s in second place.”

Nesta looks back at you, eyes roaming up and down your frame, “I’m more surprised he hasn’t broken you in half yet.”

Feyre laughs as you reply, “you’d be more surprised if you saw some of the things we do.”

You waggle your eyebrows at Nesta as Feyre continues laughing, but Nesta’s not quick enough to hide her smirk without your notice.

“How long do we wait until we have them measure Feyre’s wings?” you ask.

Feyre thinks for a moment, hand on her chin, “maybe when Azriel gets a little too cocky.”

“Or Rhysand gets too pouty,” Nesta adds.

From across the courtyard, you could see Azriel’s amused smirk as his eyes met yours, a light tug on the bond urging you to keep your gaze on him. You smile, pulling back softly. He raises his eyebrows up and down a few times, and you send some amusement down the bond as you roll your eyes at him.

He stretches his wings out at your attention, making them as large as he can. You’re pretty certain you’ve seen birds do similar things in mating rituals, but the unfortunate thing is seems to actually be working on you.

He looks over to his brothers, still rolling around in the dirt, and gently takes off for a short flight up to the balcony the three of you are on. He lands softly in front of you, his wings creating a small wind, his chest glowing in the sunlight as his hands reach for you, pulling you into him by your hips.

You melt into him, arms going around his waist, your head resting over his heart as he supports your weight with the railing behind him. The warmth from his skin is soothing without being overbearingly hot.

“They make me want to gag,” Nesta tells Feyre, and you move your head so you can see the two pairs of eyes looking back to the two of you. Azriel wraps his wings around you, making you nearly impossible to see if it weren’t for your feet. You can hear the smile on Nesta’s face at her words, though.

You weasel an opening between Azriel’s arms so you can make eye contact with Nesta as you tell her, “he makes me gag too,” as you make an obscene gesture with your hand.

Nesta’s face immediately goes into her hands while Feyre chuckles, but her laughs are drowned out by the male in front of you, his laugh rumbling in his chest beneath your ear.

He peers down at you, one eyebrow raised in question. You nod slightly, and the two of you vanish into his shadows, leaving Feyre and Nesta to watch their mates continue to fight in the dirt, forgetting who really won the competition.

#acotar fanfiction #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel #azriel fanfic #azriel fluff #azriel x y/n #acotar writing

[moechies]

tw dark content inct, infantilization, mental/physical abuse, weight mention, coercion, cutting, branding, nsfw but not really in detail, creampie mention, vv abusive

anon says..! naoya-nii who just keeps you like a pet.. not letting you dress urself , feeding you with a spoon , maybe even a bottle. He probably goes far as taking privileges like phones if you've been bad ,, ‘

naoya nii who never had to make your guys relationship dynamic clear. you were just such a good girl, and you would never go out of your way to deny or question your nii chan. well, after you tried to the first time. though sometimes he frustrated you, or confused you, it seemed that his light kisses to your tears and the way he soothes over your bruises made it all go away. ♡︎

first, you were never allowed to dress yourself. looking into your own closet earned you a slap on the wrists, and going as far as to trying on the clothes earned you a spanking. the first time you tried, it caused naoya nii to stay angry at you for days, offended that you thought he wasn’t taking care of you enough.

never ask him to wear somethin different. the last time you decided to ask to wear something less revealing, you were left lonely and cold in the room below his feet, bruises and cuts over the soft of your skin, with your cheeks red and burning.

naoya loved to dress you up in the prettiest, most expensive pieces. the pieces hugged around the curve of your body perfectly, flattering you in the best way. which isn't surprising, as he takes your measurements everyday in the morning when he changed you. his comments on your body always made you feel fuzzy, no matter what he said, 'need ta cut down on the sweets, ya gained some weight. i'll notice the servant.' 'yer tits are fatter, you sore?' the pieces were strangely small though, always showing an embarrassing amount of cleavage or ass that you didn’t really want to expose to naoya. however, it’s nothing he hasn’t seen right?

secondly, naoya-nii always feeds you. his job was handy, and allowed him to stay home with her precious sister, giving him all the time in the world to take care of you. naoya nii was always so patient and sweet, taking his time to bribe you when you were made to eat something you weren't so fond of. if you were upset and refusing the spoons of food, he would stick the entirety of his thumb into your mouth and gently place the food on the flat of your tongue! he never wanted you to be hungry!

however when you had mustered up the courage to ask to feed yourself, to your surprise he glanced up at you with a smile on his face and an enthusiastic 'yeah.' before the spoon had reached your opening, a subconcious slap comes down on your face and the spoon, knocking it over on the ground. naoya nii smashed the bowl of food he had held onto on the ground as well, breaking the bowl, leaving you there to cry on a stool whilst holding your cheek until you came running to him and yelling out apologies.

and last, your punishments <3 naoya nii was really the worst with punishments. he was the meanest, and never let you go regardless of the tears, and how his ears rung from your pained screams. over the years, he decided that the best ways to tame you were to hit you, and to fuck you.

naoya nii's abuse was never gentle. the paddles that came down on your back and down to your thighs always left you in shambles, leaving your mind empty with naoya nii in thought. the paddles caused cuts across your skin, eyeing down the beading blood that came from his hitting. and though it wasn't often, at times he would use an actual blade to teach you a lesson. whether it be carving degrading words onto your tits and thighs, or carving his name onto the fat of your ass and branding you!

and finally, naoya nii loved to have sex with you <3 though naoya never took his time to prep you that well, he always made sure it felt good. well, good enough. he loves to have you on your hands and knees, spreading your previously branded ass, listening to your sweet cries of his name. your slick dripped from your cunt, practically asking for nii nii to use you! :( he always made out with your slicked up cunt, which was the furthest that foreplay went to in terms of sex. after cumming in you, instead of watching it spill out and going to waste, he plugged you up with the prettiest of plugs, and tucked you into bed. however, you’re never allowed to cum. :( naoya nii just never allowed you to; after all, little girls don't do that. ♡︎

#jjk #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #dead dove do not eat #yandere jujutsu kaisen #dark content #tw dark content #gojo smut #naoya smut #jjk naoya #naoya zenin #naoya x reader #jujutsu kaisen toji #tw.incest #tw.dark content #tw.breeding #fanfiction♪♬♫

[sutorus]

HEART SHAKER

PAIRING: gojo satoru x reader

WC: ~1k

WARNINGS: established relationship, suggestive language, flirting, attempts at humor. fluff, somehow.

A/N: super freaking unedited i just had to get this out bc i can’t believe it’s not smut LOL

“god, you’re squeezing me so hard, sweetheart.”

you look up through your eyelashes at your boyfriend, brows set low in a warning. he only smirks. 

you pump harder. 

“oh fuck, it’s so tight right now.”

you huff in annoyance, slapping both hands down on your legs. 

“can you stop? i lost count!”

satoru laughs at you, throwing his head back. 

you cringe at how loud his movements sound in your ears, the stethoscope you were using still pressed to his skin. 

you release the pressure on the cuff around his arm, sighing deeply. 

“once again, i’m going to ask you,” you enunciate the words slowly, your eyes aiming at his, right behind that blindfold. “why don’t you have shoko do this?”

you’re sure if it were her measuring his blood pressure she could get actual accurate results. 

satoru tilts his head, smiling sweetly. 

“and why would i do that?” he singsongs. “you’re the prettiest little doctor around.”

“resident,” you correct him. 

you wish so badly that he was due for a vaccine or something, just so you would have an excuse to stab him. 

of course, you weren't complaining. you’re incredibly lucky that shoko took you under her wing once you got a job at the school. you weren’t able to master reverse cursed technique at her level quite yet, but you were just as good of a regular doctor as she was. 

it didn’t matter how good you were though, because you weren’t a pediatrician or a saint, and it takes one of either to deal with gojo satoru as a patient. 

“why do we even bother with check ups?” he asks, leaning back on the exam table. “i am literally healing my body twenty-four-seven.”

you roll your eyes, grabbing the light test hammer. 

“what kind of question is that? sit up straight,” you shuffle on your chair, getting in between his too-spread legs. whore. 

satoru shrugs, kicking his dangling feet. “a valid one.”

you bring the hammer down hard on his knee to check his reflexes. naturally, it stops just shy of his leg. 

you don’t even have to look. you know he’s smirking again. 

“turn infinity off.”

“‘turn infinity off’? you’re so cute,” he replies. you try to hit him with the hammer again to no avail. “i need to teach you some combat skills, girl.”

“and i need to examine you,” you get up off your seat, facing him. satoru leans in with a grin. “behave.”

he won’t. 

“wanna play doctor?” 

you ignore his voice and the obvious glee in it, a retort dying on your tongue because you do actually have to carry out a check up, to the best of your abilities. 

grabbing your clipboard, you skim through his most recent health assessment records.

he complained about a migraine to shoko. 

it makes your heart seize for just a moment, to think of all the stress satoru puts himself through to have his technique active at all times. 

“how’s your head?” you ask him. 

“you tell me,” his foot grazes the back of your knee, coaxing you closer. “any complaints?”

a dissatisfied sound comes out of your mouth as you press your hands to his chest instinctively, forcing distance between you two. 

“satoru, please.”

“do you worry, baby?” he reaches out to tentatively hold the side of your face. “don’t worry about me.”

“it’s literally my job,” you trail off, head dropping. 

satoru lifts your chin up and presses his lips to yours for a second or two. 

“sorry, sorry,” he says before you can chastise him. “couldn’t help it. you look so cute all worked up.”

at this point you just twist your lips disapprovingly, putting the stethoscope earpieces back on. 

you press it to his chest and listen as he breathes in and out. 

“satoru,” you frown. “are you okay?”

“hmm?”

you look at him knowingly, a smirk of your own blooming on your face. 

“why is your heart beating so fast?”

at that, your awful, awful boyfriend finally has the decency to blush. 

“and you’re breathing so hard, too—“

“it’s hard, alright—“

“—we might have to schedule some follow up exams,” you click your pen to fill out the form, neglecting the way he leans into you. 

“anytime,” he huffs out, breath skirting on your face where you stand between his knees. “do i get a lollipop for being such a good boy?”

“no,” you reply, taking a step forward. “but you can have this.”

you plant a kiss on his lips, letting it linger for longer than it should as he holds your hips tightly.

he hums contentedly when you pull away.

“mm, smart and generous,” satoru noses your jawline. “how did i get so lucky?”

you fight the sudden shyness rising up at his words.

“the same way i got so unlucky,” you smile at his pout. “life’s just not fair.”

he coos.

“you sweettalk all your patients or am i special?”

despite your best efforts not to, you grin at that.

“the most special,” you say, interlocking your fingers. “now get back to work.”

satoru grumbles a complaint but hops off the table nonetheless.

“thanks a bunch for seeing me, doc,” he leans down to hover his face right above yours. you push him away with a fingertip to his forehead.

“no problem. now shoo.”

you walk up to your desk to hopefully do some actual work now that your most special patient is leaving.

“ah, but i was wondering—“

“yes?” you don’t bother looking up from your paperwork.

“if you could give me some anatomy lessons sometime—“

“out!”

he slips out the door before you can turn around to see it.

you take a deep breath.

you love satoru to death, but you’re beginning to understand why shoko picked up smoking as a stress reliever.

#✩.petra.doc #✩.gojo #gojo satoru hcs #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x you #gojo x reader #gojo x y/n #gojo satoru fic #gojo satoru au #why is tagging so embarrassing like bye #gojo fluff #gojo satoru x female reader #gojo satoru x gender neutral reader

[bakubunny]

f!reader | thinkin abt this hc, but katsuki is roommates with denki. katsuki is pretty sure he’s heard denki’s girl cum more and harder than any girl he’s ever been with in his life. he’d never want to say it, but he’s questioning his sexual abilities with every passing orgasm, and he audibly witnesses a lot of them. sure, you always cum when he’s intimate with you - at least twice every time, he makes sure of it. but he’s never turned you into a complete mess like denki’s girl is every time they fuck or whatever it is they do.

so one day, katsuki finally bucks up the courage to say something to his best friend and admits he might want to do better with you in bed. denki is a little surprised and embarrassed; he never expected katsuki to be the one asking him for sex advice. he’d just taken the time to figure out what works for him and assumed that if anything, the roles might be reversed.

they talk, denki shares a little bit of what he does and eventually asks katsuki, “dude, when was the last time you slowed down and took your time?”

denki realizes the answer is probably never when katsuki spits back a defensive, “whadda ya mean?”

so he explains in more detail. katsuki takes mental notes.

･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆

the next time katsuki’s got you in his bed, something is different. he’s a little too soft and a little too slow for your preference as he goes in for a kiss, so you pull him deeper. but he’s still got a measured pace, the way his hands are firm and trace your body like he means it. with him, sex is overwhelming and all consuming. it’s hard and fast and raw. but not today.

there’s a hint of impatience in his movements, but he stops himself; he spends extra time caressing your face, in the crook of your neck, mapping out every little spot that makes your breath catch just a hair or your fingers curl a little tighter and committing it better to memory. then his tongue is in your mouth, and he’s groping you over your clothes. a small whimper leaves your lips as you try to shift and get your legs around his waist, but he doesn’t let you.

realization hits when katsuki stops to look you in the eye. your cheeks are flushed hard, and it’s almost difficult to look back with how much heat is radiating between your legs. usually by now he’s got you half naked and grinding, or his hand is deep in your cunt. a twinkle lights his eyes, a boyish grin on his face. you pull him into you, pushing your face into his neck with a shyness you hadn’t felt with him in a long time.

“what?”

you shake your head and kiss his neck, taking in the warmth of his skin and the way he sighs into your touch.

“need somethin?” he teases. his hand runs down your torso to grip your hip. the same hand slides under the fabric of your shirt to caress your side.

“no,” you reply quietly. “you’re usually a bit more… fast paced. that’s all.”

his lips are grazing your neck, his tone low and playful. “yeah. i’m tryin somethin new. got a problem with it?”

he’s kissing you neck again before you can respond, sucking and licking faint marks into a tender spot on your skin.

your breath catches. “n-no, not at all.”

“good.” katsuki puts his muscular thigh between your own and presses it to the damp heat of your cotton shorts.

a small whimper escapes your throat.

“now be a good girl n' grind on me, princess.”

if you’d like to be added to my tag list, let me know. ♡

gremlins: @arlerts-angel @dcsiremc @darkstarlight82 @bookcluberror @neon-gothicc @zazter-den @breadandbutter33 @i-literally-cant-with-this @rinalouu @stvrfir3 @r4td0lll @emmab3mma @aria-chikage @mhadabiandhawks4eva @yazminetrahan @doumadono @dreamcastgirl99 @maddietries @jazzafayesworld @karebear5118 @unofficialmuilover @cherriluvs35 @erensslut @ruu-https @hana-yuri @keiva1000 @katsul0vr @trickster-kat @ayeohoh-blog @dinomeow @flamgosstuff @mistressreaper @angelltheninth @anonymously-ominous @amberexe2 @hisconsistency @nanamisbigassschlong @223princess @honeeslust @pastelbakugou @gold24fish @naughtygobbo @acenanxious @blumoonwisteria @chaos-gem @levizonlywife @kxtsxkii @nuttyunknowndetective @gold24fish

#this is one of those times where i’m a teeny bit glad i’m more of a denki girl than i thought 🙊 #this has been in my drafts for like a month and a half and i think this is as far as it's gonna get so mwah here u go enjoy ur meal #may or may not be digging up som yan dad bf erasermic next #bnha #mha #x reader #bnha smut #mha smut #bakugou katsuki #aged up characters #bakubunny #f!reader #bakugo katuski #bakugo smut #bakugou smut #bakugou x reader #boku no hero academia #my hero academia

[disneyprincemuke]

count on us * fem!driver

she often forgets that she’s got a support system she can ask for help from

pairings: sebastian vettel x fem!driver, max verstappen x fem!driver, oscar piastri x fem!driver, logan sargeant x fem!driver

warnings: stalking, mentions of violence, cursing

notes: i think it's so funny how i took so long to write this that i'm only writing a note like 5 minutes after posting this LMFAO

(series masterlist) | (📂 the rookie season)

sebastian looks up from his phone, the noticeable lack of a woman’s voice finally sinking in. now that he thinks about it, it’s been suspiciously too long for his driver to be missing.

he raises an eyebrow as he scans the garage for the familiar face, but alludes to nothing.

he presses his lips together, silently exiting the garage to find himself in the paddocks. sending her a quick text to ask her where she is, he puts the phone into his back pocket as he makes it a mission to find the small girl.

in the crowd of people who are heads taller than her, it’s deem an almost impossible mission.

“hey, seb,” max greets him with a nod and a smile, almost passing him nonchalantly.

until sebastian reaches out to stop him. “have you seen (y/n)?”

“i have not,” max frowns. “is something wrong?”

“yeah,” sebastian turns in a circle where he is, gesturing to the empty space by him, “my shadow is missing.”

max raises his eyebrows. “that’s true. she’s usually always around you.”

“if you see her, can you give me a call?” sebastian asks. max gives him a nod before bidding him a goodbye.

he spends the better part of the next twenty minutes trying to spot her, walking the paddocks twice for good measure. yet she is nowhere to be found.

he’s asked four more different drivers if they’ve chanced upon her presence, yet there is nobody that’s seen her.

not logan, and not even oscar. which is odd.

not even a response from you. so, he goes to the one place he hasn’t tried: her driver’s room. she doesn’t frequent staying in too long on media day, claiming that she’s trying to get used to the environment of formula 1.

which, is actually working. there are times she’s able to roam the paddocks and go to interviews by herself. but half the time, sebastian or someone else does an interview with her as a calming tactic.

he knocks on her door once and goes without an answer. he knocks another time before he hears shuffling from the other side of the door.

the door squeaks open, the shorter woman peeking through the small opening she’s allowed. “yeah?”

“i’ve been looking for you everywhere. why aren’t you texting me back?” sebastian asks, looking the door up and down. “and why won’t you open the door all the way?”

“just wasn’t feeling well,” she says softly with a sigh. her head is dropped low, as if to avoid any forms of eye contact. “my room is a mess.”

“you’re not well? why didn’t you tell me?” sebastian questions with the raise of his eyebrow. “can you let me in? let’s talk in private.”

she presses her lips together, as if considering her options. ultimately, she shakes her head. “we can talk here.”

“kid, you’re being very weird. i’m concerned and-“ he pauses, dropping his head slightly to meet her puffy eyes. “have you been crying?”

she tilts her head away from him and lets her hair drop to the side of her face. “none of your business, seb.”

sebastian sighs, leaning on the door frame. “if something is wrong, you can talk to me, you know? i won’t tell anybody.”

“just the hormones,” she croaks, still avoiding his eyes. “i’ll come out in a while for my interviews. i just need a while.”

he hums. “okay. i’ll be in the garage waiting for you, okay? text me when you’re coming out.”

“okay.” and then she closes the door on him.

oscar steps right by the garage’s entrance, careful not to cross the line that would consider him inside. “seb.”

sebastian pops up from behind the car. “oscar! what’s up?”

“(y/n) hasn’t been picking up my calls,” he admits with a sigh. “i’ve been trying to get a hold of her since we arrived on tuesday. have you got any idea where she is?”

“what?” sebastian glances at his watch. “she should’ve been out of her room by now. hasn’t she got an interview with you and logan?”

“that’s why i’m looking for her,” oscar frowns. “i had to ask lando to go first and cover for us. logan and i have been texting her but she never answers.”

“she’s been acting weird all day,” sebastian voices out in concern. “i swear she looked like she was crying when i dropped by her driver’s room earlier.”

“crying? that doesn’t happen often,” oscar mutters. “has she told you what’s bothering her?”

“she just shut the door on me and said she’d be out in a while,” sebastian shrugs. “what do you think is wrong with her?”

“i’m okay,” a small voice comes from behind sebastian. the two men turn their attention to her with puzzled expressions on their faces. “what?”

“no shorts for you today, mate?” oscar asks, eyeing her up and down. “it’s not that cold out today. why the sweatpants and jacket?”

“repping your team today, aye?” sebastian teases, reaching out to nudge her shoulder. “getting into the racing spirit, i see.”

“these were the only clean clothes i had in my bag,” she sighs, rubbing her eye. “i woke up late and i didn’t pack my bag last night. this was all i had in my driver’s room.”

“you could’ve asked me for a shirt,” sebastian shrugs. “you don’t have to get all warm in a jacket.”

“i’m alright, thank you,” she smiles politely. she grins at oscar. “we’re late for the interview, right? let’s go?”

oscar nods, watching in disbelief as she walks past him to get ahead. “yeah,” he says under his breath. exchanging a worried glance with sebastian, he quickly jogs to catch up with her. “hey, wait for me.”

“thank you so much for your time, and good luck for the weekend,” the interviewer smiles.

the three rookies mutter a mix of thank you’s. notably, the girl sat between the two boys stands up with her hands in her pockets.

“hey, are you on mute today? what’s got you so quiet?” logan calls out to the girl who’s already halfway out the door, slowly standing from his own seat.

“nothing, i’m just tired,” she answers monotonously, turning on her heel. “can you guys walk me back to my garage today? i know you haven’t in a while, and like, you don’t actually have to. i’m capable of walking the paddocks myself. but i thought it would be–“

oscar holds up his hands in front of her. “we’ll walk you back. no need to explain yourself.”

she huffs, dropping her head low again. “okay. thank you.”

logan raises his eyebrow. “you’re not fighting with me today?”

“just really tired,” she repeats, then putting the hood of her jacket over her head. “have you guys eaten? wanna go to the cafeteria with me and grab a bite?”

“i’ve got an interview panel in like 5 minutes,” oscar frowns, slinging his arm around her shoulder. “i’m sorry. maybe logan can go with you?”

“i’ve got to film some marketing stuff with alex for williams,” logan mirrors the frown on oscar’s face. “how about we go dinner right after? it’s my last commitment of the day.”

“oh, mine too.”

“then that’s okay. i’ll just eat in my hotel room.”

the disappointment that laces her voice is prominent enough for the two young boys to exchange a worried glance.

so, logan bends down with a warm smile. typically, his snide remarks and playful tone would have been enough to get a confession out of her. so he takes the route. “where’s the remote for your chatterbox function? i want it turned up.”

“maybe tomorrow, logan. i’m very tired,” she dismisses the american, eyes still trained on her feet as they walk.

“come on, seriously,” oscar grabs her shoulders, planting her on the spot while they surround her. “what’s wrong?”

“literally nothing,” she glances up, looking into their eyes briefly. she drops her head once more and walks around them to continue making her way down the pathway.

“you’ve got to tell us someday,” oscar mutters to logan, following behind her. “you eventually give us hints, you know.”

“i won’t,” she whips back quickly, “because nothing is wrong. i’m just feeling a little under the weather.”

“you’re not fighting with me, so i don’t know, dude,” logan whispers, eyes wide at her sudden change in behaviour. “not sure which version of you i like more. i miss your chaos.”

“stop worrying,” she huffs, coming to a stop in front of her racing home. “i’ll see you guys tomorrow, okay? i’m heading back to the hotel early.”

she doesn’t wait for an answer, just turns on her heel to walk towards her doors.

oscar reaches out quickly, pulling her back towards them. “i’m only letting you go if you promise to stop ignoring our texts in the groupchat.”

“yeah, it’s sad talking to myself,” logan frowns. “oscar’s not a great texter. and he doesn’t even watch my tiktoks.”

“yeah, i do! i just don’t answer.”

“really? what tiktok did i send last?”

“that one edit about that banana cat!”

“liar! (y/n) sent that like a week ago! oscar!”

“well, you send too many! i can’t possibly sit down and watch 20 tiktoks, logan!”

“this is not what we should be worried about right now!” logan says, turning to the girl staring up at them with doe eyes. “watch my tiktoks. seriously.”

she smiles, yet the sadness in her eyes is so unmissable. “okay, i promise. and i’ll text you when i’m back in my hotel room.”

“you better actually text us,” oscar scoffs with an eyeroll. “i know your room number. i will come up and tear your room apart if you don’t.”

“okay,” she laughs. “i will remember to text you.”

she sits quietly at the dinner table, phone buzzing the table off as she continues to gobble down her chicken wing. she stares at the table blankly as she chews consistently.

“are you not gonna pick up your phone?” max asks, putting his spoon and fork down on the plate.

the constant buzzing had been going on for almost 5 minutes, and at first, he wasn’t going to say anything. but isn’t 5 minutes too long to leave your phone unanswered if there is a possible pressing matter at hand?

“oh, i’m sorry. i hadn’t noticed,” she says softly, grabbing her phone. she glances at the screen and all the colours from her face visibly drains and she puts the phone down on her lap. “sorry.”

“it’s something wrong? why didn’t you pick up?” max asks, continuing his meal.

“just the family groupchat going off as always after my interviews for the day,” she laughs nervously, returning to her state of blank stares and eating her dinner. “i’ll answer them later.”

“isn’t dalton gonna nag your head off if you don’t answer now?” oscar chuckles.

they had managed to convince the girl to come out for dinner. but it’s only sparked up more concern between him and sebastian as she opted to be out in her team merch again.

that’s after she swore up and down that she wouldn’t be caught dead in them in normal circumstances where they’re not needed. which also raised max’s eyebrows when he walked into the restaurant and was shocked by the striking purple that made their table stand out amongst the rest.

“he can wait a while longer,” she shrugs.

max pouts his lips. “why are you in team merch, anyway?” he asks, reaching out to pull on the material of her jacket. “you made fun of me for like 4 days straight when you realised i wear red bull merch too often.”

“i have to say i kinda get where you’re coming from,” she answers calmly. “they’re very comfortable.”

“comf–“ max looks around the table in disbelief. “you said that even if they’re comfortable, they’re not very ‘going out’ outfits. what?”

she turns to look at him, bored. “i changed my mind. you’re actually right.”

max sinks into his seat. “what’s gone wrong with the world?”

yuki had been minding his own business, scrolling on instagram when he heard a familiar squeak by a quiet corner outside the paddock’s gantries.

“hey, leave me alone!” a hushed voice says, before he hears shoes thumping against the floor. “i’ll give you the stupid pass if you never bother me again.”

“c’mon. that wasn’t the only agreement we came to. you have to let me take you out on a date,” a deeper voice says.

“yeah, not a chance! you think stalking me for two races and sending me unsolicited pictures would help your chances?” he recognises that voice.

he peeks over the corner, eyebrows raising in shock when he sees the driver push the unnamed man away from her.

“and if you weren’t scared of what i have in here,” he lifts up his hand to show her something, “then you wouldn’t have answered my messages.”

there’s silence for a while, before she grunts. “fine, whatever. here’s your pass. leave me alone in the paddocks, seriously.”

yuki studies the man’s face, before scrambling to walk away from where he is. he hums, walking as fast as he can to the gantry without looking suspicious.

when she pops up next to him, chest heaving with a sweaty forehead, she smiles. “hi, yuki.”

so he smiles back. “hi.”

and then he makes a sharp left after entering the paddocks, on his way to find max. the driver had mentioned the girl acting suspicious and asking a favour of him and daniel to keep an eye on her.

he never actually expected to be the one who find out.

“i think i know what’s bothering her,” yuki says softly, pulling max away from gp with an apologetic smile. he’s thankful that the engineers had been working on the car. he doesn’t have to hush himself so much after all. “i saw her… right outside the paddocks just a while ago.”

“seriously? you didn’t fucking tell us someone was harassing you?”

she sighs, arms folded over her chest as she looks between the men towering over her. she sinks into the comfort of her beanbag chair, defeated by their efforts to find out what’s wrong.

“and we had to find out from yuki because he was fortunate enough to overhear your conversation outside the paddocks?” sebastian shouts. “what the hell! that’s so dangerous.”

“he has pictures from my cloud, seb! that means screenshots of our conversations and my private pictures! i can’t risk that getting out! i’m hated enough as it is!” she explains, trying to reason out before getting another scolding. “can you please see where i’m coming from here?”

“no, because meeting him all by yourself is absolutely fucking insane!” logan throws his hands in the air, trying to make her see how ridiculous the whole situation is. “dude, you could’ve been mauled! nobody even saw you leave the paddocks.”

“imagine what could’ve happened to you? what would we tell your parents?” max adds on, hands on his hips. “this was very reckless.”

“i-“

“and if he planned to physically hurt you, what were you planning on doing?” logan cuts her off, hands on his hips as he grows more frustrated. “did you actually have a plan or were you just winging it?”

“it’s not even that. the way you thought this was even a good idea is beyond me!” sebastian tugs at the roots of his hair. “you should have told somebody!”

tears start to fill her eyes, lips pouted out as they start to quiver. the harassment had started about two weeks ago during their previous race.

initially, she had marked out the instagram dm to be from a spam account. until they sent her a picture only she would be in possession of: her and logan at a beach club from when he was 20 and she was 18 in barcelona.

suddenly the messages and the threats didn’t stop. she couldn’t only think of the repercussions it would have on her career, but everybody else’s who is involved in her life.

her cloud includes a collection of screenshots from their most ludicrous conversations and night outs.

“hey, i was only doing that to protect everybody i know!” she shouts, tears starting to spill out of her eyes. “there’s pictures and screenshots i’m sure each and everyone of you would like out of the public eye! i’ve got a fucking video of you,” she points at max, “giving daniel a lap dance in zandvoort!”

she points at logan, “and you,” then oscar, “and you wrestling to push each other into the pool in your underwear from years back!”

she turns to sebastian. “and you drunkenly crying because you regret retiring from formula 1!” she pushes herself off the seat. “i didn’t know what else to do. i’m sorry, but i didn’t see it going any other way than me caving in to what he wanted me to do.”

“i don’t know, get a fucking lawyer and sue his ass?” max asks.

“yeah, i’ve not got the funds for that! thanks for noticing!” she screams at the older driver, stomping her feet into the ground. “god, i didn’t know what to do, okay?”

she looks at the man in the corner of her room, leaning against the wall staring at the ground blankly with his arms in the pockets of his shorts.

“well, you’re awfully quiet, aren’t you?” she points out. “nothing else to add on with everybody’s criticism of how i seem to have mishandled the situation?”

oscar looks up, meeting her eyes for a split second before looking away again. he presses his lips together. “it was reckless,” oscar says. he shrugs when she prompts him for a longer answer. “it’s done and it’s over. let’s figure out how to get him to bugger off, yes?”

“yes, but you have got to realise how wrong this could have gone so easily,” sebastian sighs, slightly calmer than he was a few seconds ago. “come on. be realistic.”

she frowns. “i didn’t know what to do, okay?”

max sighs, walking over to her. he lays his hand on the top of her head and pats it gently. “i’m sorry for shouting at you. i was just concerned. something bad could have really happened to you.”

“i know, but-“

“it’s okay,” max soothes her, pulling her into his arms for a hug. “you held a potential scandal off pretty well. but don’t do it like this again.”

“this is never going to work,” she mutters under her breath. after a wonderful qualifying session, she stands in her least favourite dress.

“it’ll work,” max mutters, “i’m max verstappen.”

“literally what’s that got to do with anything?” she scowls, extending her hand out to land a hit on his arm. “that name means nothing to this man!”

“you don’t know that. i’m a very powerful man,” max mutters dejectedly, hand pressed against his chest to feign hurt. “you’re not very nice.”

“shut up,” sebastian mutters, rolling his eyes at the two unlikely drivers to have gotten along very well. “we spent all qualifying session thinking of a way to get you out of this. be quiet.”

“fine,” she says softly, folding her arms. she takes a step back and sighs as logan takes her into his side for a comforting hug. “i didn’t know what else to do.”

“it’s okay,” logan whispers, rubbing her arm. “it’s over now. we’ll handle it for you.”

“i’m handling it for you,” sebastian mutters.

he straightens his shirt and stands a little taller as a figure comes down the dark alley of the paddocks.

“oh, you brought back up?” the man, who sebastian has come to know as ryan, grins. “big fan.”

“shut the fuck up,” max says, stepping forward when he stops in front of her.

“yeah, here’s how it’s gonna go,” sebastian says, pressing his palm into max’s chest to stop him. “you’re going to hand over that thumb drive or she sues you.”

he scoffs. “with what money? she’s only an underpaid rookie.”

“she’s got a whole grid of 21 other rich drivers ready to back this lawyer up,” sebastian says calmly. “don’t make it any harder for yourself. just hand it over before you get served.”

“i call bluff,” he shrugs simply. “you don’t want something like this out in the media.” he tilts his head to throw a teasing stare at the girl in logan’s arms. “especially not when it’s tied to her name.” he looks back at sebastian. “she wouldn’t let that happen to her.”

max clears his throat. “what if you just listen to us before we make this very difficult for you?”

“like how?”

“just trust me,” max smiles sweetly with a nod. “i can find ways to make life difficult for you.”

“what if i only leak pictures of her?” ryan grins, gesturing to the girl now throwing her head back in despair. “you’ve got good pictures, by the way. can’t wait to have you all to myself, you pretty little thing.”

“yeah, i’m done hearing this fucker out,” oscar mutters.

“oscar-“

logan is barely able to grab the australian’s arm before oscar has already lept forward to shove the man back.

“so i’ll make it difficult for you,” oscar smiles politely. his arm darts forward again, bunching up the material of ryan’s collar into his hands. he yanks him in. “i’m going to take that thumb drive out of your pockets myself, and then i’ll beat you with my own bare hands,” he points behind him, “while she watches.

“and then i’m going to get the best lawyer, find the judge, bribe them both and the jury combined,” oscar chuckles dryly, “put you in jail. and then i’m going to go in there and tear you limb from limb again.”

“ah, you’re too nice. you’d never.”

“say bet?”

“bet.”

“oscar, come on!” she shrieks, stumbling forward to yank him back. “you don’t beat people up! come on!”

“yeah, but i do!” max cheers, his hand darting out to shove the man back harder than oscar did. he stumbles a couple steps back and almost loses his balance, regaining it slowly. “i’ll finish what oscar started. come here.”

“hey, nobody’s beating this man up!” sebastian shouts, before quickly trying to lower his voice to avoid any unwanted attention. “listen, mate. i can make sure a court hearing goes by softly. benefits us, but gonna make you go broke. you decide.”

max lifts a finger into the air. “and don’t forget: i’m born petty. i already know where you work, so if you wanna keep that job…”

“and keep having a damn job for the rest of your life,” sebastian finishes max’s sentence. he holds his hand out, waiting for the item to be surrendered to him. “you know what’s best for you. come on.”

“fine, but-“

“there will be no buts, there will be no negotiations,” max grunts, rolling his eyes. if it weren’t for sebastian, he would have already given these three the show of their life. “you will listen to seb. end of story.”

“fine, whatever,” the man sighs, throwing the thumbdrive at sebastian. he tilts his head once more and winks at the girl. “let’s go for our date — that’s the one condition.”

“seriously, why haven’t you let me beat the crap out of this guy?” oscar asks ludicrously, throwing his hands in the air. he turns back to him. “we just said no negotiations. go and fuck off somewhere else.”

“and you better leave (y/n) alone because i grew up with brothers,” logan smiles, “i can fight.”

she moves her head lower, looking at oscar with wide eyes. she takes her spoon out of her ice cream cup and sways it in oscar’s field of vision. “hey.”

“yeah?” oscar asks, lifting his eyes from the table to meet hers.

“you mad at me?” she pouts her bottom lip out before dropping her gaze. “i’m sorry.”

“sorry for doing what you thought would help you out of a situation?” oscar smiles emphatically at her. he stabs his spoon into his ice cream and puts a firm grip on her wrist. “next time just come to one of us, okay? we’ll handle it.”

she presses her lips together as she sighs. “right. i forget that i don’t have to fend for myself anymore.”

“yeah. we’ve got your back. always,” oscar snorts. “you’re one of my best friends. logan and i would flip the earth for you.”

“likewise,” she smiles. “i’d help you bury a dead body.”

“maybe let’s not go that far.”

taglist: @wcnorris @treehouse-mouse @laura-naruto-fan1998 @mindless-rock @inejismywife @vellicora @leilanixx @meadhbhcavanagh @2bormaybenot @ironmaiden1313 @angsthology @cherry-piee @christianpulisic10 @elliegrey2803 @love4lando @sadg3 @a10vely-yutazen @cashtons-wife @bborra @christianpulisic10 @elliegrey2803

#sebastian vettel x reader #oscar piastri x reader #max verstappen x reader #female driver #f1 fem!driver #f1 female driver #f1 x reader #f1 grid x reader #formula 1 fem!drive #fem!driver #disneyprincemuke #disneyprincemuke imagine #disneyprincemuke imagines #disneyprincemuke f1 #vettel reincarnate #disneyprincemuke vr #logan sargeant x reader

[charliemwrites]

Part 9 of Charmed Slasher Simon

(CW: this is all basically noncon. Like, yeah they had a “deal” but it’s not like it was agreed on in good faith ya know? Stay safe while reading, please, and let me know if this warning needs to be more descriptive)

You shake as Simon trails his fingers absently along your tummy, amused by the way it twitches, tickling and frightened in equal measures. So much he wants to do to you, but only so much you’ll be able to take for this first little triste.

Besides, though not long for this world, there’s only so much he wants that little worm to see of you.

“You ever spend so long fantasizing about something that when the moment finally comes, you’re just spoiled for options?” he muses aloud, pinching your nipples through your thin shirt. He can hear the high pitched noises trapped in the back of your throat, tsks at the denial.

“I’m usually a decisive man, you know that, sunshine. But all the things I want to do to you…”

You squirm when he pinches a bit harder, adding a little twist. He shuffles his knee between your thighs and pulls you back, making you grind against his thigh with every involuntary twitch and shudder.

“Could bruise this pretty ass for running out into the snow like that, reckless thing.” You jolt when he palms the plush fat of one cheek. “Or I could just torture your tight little hole. Leave that pretty pussy aching…”

You make a noise like a sob as his thumb rubs through the layers of your pants and underwear. You try to lean away but he’s got such a tight grip on your wrists that all it does is arch your back.

He inches his fingers over the crest of your hip again, dips back to your swollen clit and soaked cunt. Hell, you’re even wetter than before, a sticky line running down your thigh, fabric clinging to overheated skin. He groans against your throat, has to see it for himself.

You try to protest as he yanks your waistbands down to mid thigh, but he quiets you with those same two fingers stuff in your mouth, teeth scraping his knuckles. You nearly gag as he pets the back of your tongue, imagines how it’ll feel against the fat head of his cock.

In the firelight, you’re gleaming, something out of a fever dream. He leans you back farther and forces your legs wider with his own, lets the heat caress at the insides of your thighs, the creamy slick webbing between your lips.

“Fuck, maybe I should just play with this, huh?” He rasps. “Watched you do it so many times. You don’t know how to edge yourself properly, luv. Always let yourself give in too soon.”

You make a startled noise, huge, watery eyes finding his. He chuckles at the mortified question in them, teases his fingertips over your slit.

“Yeah, sunshine. I watched you fuck this pretty pussy, cryin’ ‘n pleadin’ for me,” he purrs in your ear. “Took everythin’ in me to let you have your fun, to keep from showin’ you how it’s done…”

He circles a finger over your clit, a barely-there brush that makes your pretty wet lashes flutter. Over and over, watches that flush bloom steadily over your face, down your neck. The haze glossing over your eyes.

“How about that, hm? We’ll start from the beginning and work our way through my list.”

He slips his fingers from your mouth, watches you lick unconsciously at the taste of him lingering on your lips.

“Y-you’re not gonna…?”

He tilts his head, narrows his eyes. Fills in the blanks and can’t help growling.

“Oh, you want me to hurt you, is that it?” he asks. “You want - no, you need an excuse to hate me. You’re hoping I tear you up so that you have an easy out for all these confusing feelings.”

You try to babble out a denial but the shock in your eyes is all the confirmation he needs. He tamps down his anger by dragging his teeth along your neck, working a dark mark into the skin.

You don’t know any better, he reminds himself. But you will.

“Don’t you worry, luv, there will be plenty of punishment for you,” he rumbles. “But you’re going to beg me for it.”

You open your mouth, maybe to deny it, but he pinches your sensitive little clit between two fingers and revels in the way you squeal.

He instantly soothes the ache with gentle circles, trailing kisses along your jaw. Tastes fresh salt on your skin.

“Best save your tears, precious,” he warns, smirking. “You’ll need them.”

He parts your lips with two fingers, leaving you open and exposed, groaning through his teeth at the sight of you. Wet and swollen, so needy for him. You try to buck away when he rubs a finger over your clit, firm strokes up and down.

“If you don’t stay still and take it like a good girl, I’ll tie you down and make you be a good girl.”

You duck your chin, eyes squeezed miserably shut as you try to lock down your body. It’s ridiculously endearing, how you wiggle and then catch yourself, breath hitching as you wait for him to lose patience. He hums whenever you start getting to squirmy, delights in the way you shiver and sink your teeth into your lip. Settle down only for him to change the tempo or the pattern and ruin all your self control.

He amuses himself drawing patterns all over your pulsing clit - circles and stars. Hearts that make your eyes roll back in your head. Zig zags from your weeping hole up to the very top of your slit.

It takes a while for you to truly approach your orgasm with the way he denies you a proper rhythm to build on. But he notices the moment you finally start to reach that peak, not even his reminder to hold still can keep you from twitching and rocking, helpless little jolts of your hips.

He coos. “So desperate to finish. Is it because you think I’ll be done with you once you do?”

You don’t answer, too busy trying to get more friction, more pressure. He lets you rush right up to the edge and then stops, skipping down to circle your hole. Luxuriates in the fresh flood of wetness coating your thighs. It yanks you back like a dog on a leash, your orgasm right there but just out of reach.

You don’t even seem to realize what’s happened for a second, mouth hanging open and a cute little furrow between your brow. When he chuckles, teasing up to that sensitive bundle of nerves again, it seems to click. You shoot him a dismayed look, the most precious hint of betrayal lurking in your glassy irises.

“N-no…” you nearly beg.

He smirks, nips at your puffy bottom lip. “You can say no if you like. Or even stop. We had a deal, though, didn’t we?”

“R-Riley…”

You scream when he spanks your pussy. Not nearly as hard as he craves, but it sends pretty streamers of tears down your hot cheeks. Another, two fingers directly to your clit. You nearly crumple, only his hold on your wrists keeping you upright.

“My real name, sunshine, or I’ll give you a reason to say no,” he warns.

“S-Simon,” you whimper, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

He shushes you, petting apologetically at your throbbing core.

“I know, luv, I know. But you’ll never learn if I don’t teach you right.”

The tears don’t stop as he drags you right up to the edge again, bullying through the lingering sting of getting spanked with overwhelming pleasure. When he pulls back a second time, you start up the “no’s” again, voice shattered into pathetic little pieces.

“That’s alright,” he murmurs, “say whatever you need to get you through, I won’t be mad.”

He gets you so so close once again, cock twitching against your ass as it grinds back against him. But he lightens his touch, not stopping but not letting you fall, easing the pressure up and up and up until even the slightest graze would break you.

Instead, he pulls away entirely to squeeze at the plush of your thighs and hips, cooing over the way they shake for him.

“Simon,” you sob, tucking into his chest. He slows his touches, watching you try to curl into him, chest burning with something bloodier than love. “Simon, please. It hurts.”

He hums, sliding his hand back up to your pussy, massaging your labia. Careful not to touch your needy clit.

“It hurts, hm?” he croons, unable to keep the mean pleasure from his voice. “It wasn’t supposed to. Where does it hurt?”

You hiccup, sniffle. “M-my… my…”

“Tell me, sunshine, or I can’t make it better.”

You fold a bit, bounce, almost like a tantrum. So out of control on sensation and emotion that you can’t keep it together as you form the words.

“M-my pussy. It — I need…”

He hums again, fingers trailing down to your hole. Teases his finger at your entrance and feels it spasming around nothing.

“So empty,” he breathes. “Is that it, luv? Your little cunt is aching to be filled?”

You shudder on a cry but nod, face hidden against his neck. He lets you, far too endeared by your attempts to find comfort from the man torturing you in the first place.

“Hurts,” you repeat.

“Do you hate me yet?” he mocks.

You keen softly. “Y-yes.”

A tap to your clit again. If you weren’t so strung out you’d probably even find it pleasurable but right now it makes you writhe and beg him to stop.

“Dont lie,” he warns, voice low, “where are my good girl’s manners?”

“‘M sorry,” you whine.

“One more time now - do you hate me yet?”

Your words seem to get caught up in your throat so you shake your head. Hes tempted - so, so tempted - to make you admit it aloud. But he doesn’t want to be too mean, not yet.

“Good girl,” he whispers, “that’s my girl. You want me to make you feel better now?”

You sniffle again, lean back into him a bit more. “Please.”

“There we go,” he praises, “nice and polite. I’ll take care of you, luv.”

Your body is so ready that it’s nothing for him to slide a finger into you, slick already running down his palm.

“N-no no,” you mumble.

“No what? I’m making you feel better.”

“‘S not — need more. Please, please, Simon.”

It’s hearing his real name in your small, reedy voice that finally appeals to what little mercy he has. He fits two fingers into your cunt and curves them to rub your silky walls.

“Fuck, you’re tight, sunshine,” he groans through his teeth. “You’re gonna choke my cock.”

You squeal as he starts rocking his hand, fucking you at an easy pace, getting you accustomed to the new stimulation. Starts building up your orgasm again, piece by moaning piece, finding every spot that makes your back bow with pleasure.

“Please, please, lemme cum this time Simon, I’ll be good, I promise.”

He huffs in amusement, caressing his thumb over your crossed wrists.

“Oh baby, you don’t have a choice.”

He flattens his palm against your core and pumps his fingers faster, harder. The heel of his hand grinds against your clit with each twitch of his wrist. You get tighter and tighter, voice pitching up and up, until your entire body goes taut, walls clamping down almost painfully.

He strokes you through it, brutal and relentless until you’re screaming at him to stop. That it’s too much. He releases your wrists to wrap his hand around your throat, obsessed with how delicate it feels in his palm. Just the slightest squeeze of his fingers and your eyes roll back. The second orgasm gushes from your abused cunt, all over his wrist and your thighs, dripping puddles onto the carpet.

He loosens his hold slowly, work you over through it, feeling you squeeze and pulse with aftershocks.

When he glances at your pretty, flushed, and tear-stained face, your eyes are shut. Out cold.

He chuckles and gently lays you out closer to the fire, grabs a pillow from a nearby chair to set under your head. Lingers for a moment, rubbing over your back, massaging gently at your shoulders. Your wrists are already bruising.

Then a muffled noise calls his attention.

Brandon.

“Now the second half of the deal.”

#thoughts™️ #cod #my writing #fanfiction #dark fic #reader fic #charmed slasher ghost #final girl reader #non con #dub con

[whateveriwant]

Hello, i hope you dont mind if i request agian! Could I get TF141 with an S/O who are just super prone to panic attack?

These are not meant to be taken as mental health advice. I'm just playing around here <3

Soap

The first time it happened, he didn't know what was going on. The sudden heavy breathing, the tremors, the loss of speech; he thought you were dying, honestly

It nearly sent him into a panic as he tried to figure out what he could do to help. Should you stay put or should you be taken to hospital? He just didn't know

However, once it had passed and you were able to better explain the situation, Soap was pulling you into a hug, the biggest breath of relief escaping him knowing you were going to be alright

He wasn't “happy” per se to learn this is something you struggle with regularly, but knowing there's at least something he could do to help in the future put his mind at ease

Nowadays he's got the drill down pat, so when he sees the signs an attack is incoming, he's whisking you to a safe environment where you can attempt to de-stress

Oftentimes it leads to him sitting beside you out on a curb somewhere, his warm hand rubbing soft circles into your back as he comforts you through it

Gaz

From the second he notices you start to pull away from him, Gaz is immediately on top of it, deploying a technique he's quite familiar with

“Tell me five things you can see,” he says, unbothered by having to repeat himself when you don't respond because he did not seriously just ask you that right now

But after enough prompting by him, you shakily list out five items, wet eyes darting around the room as you try to take stock of your surroundings

Once you do as bid, he'll continue, “Now four things you can hear.” And now you're starting to think you see where he's going with this

He'll work his way through all five senses, counting down to one, and once he reaches the final, you find that your pulse has slowed tremendously and your tremor has stopped entirely

Afterwards, you give him a shy thanks, asking how he knew that would work. “Simple,” he tells you. “Used to do it with my sister when we were young. It helped her then, so I thought it might help you now.”

Price

He takes the most heavy handed approach when trying to bring you down from such a rocky high. And while some people might find it smothering, you just see it as grounding

“Hey. Look at me,” his order is firm though his voice remains purposefully gentle. “Don't look anywhere else, just look at me. That's it. Just focus on me.”

If he has to, he'll even push a finger against your chin until you're meeting his eye and holding it, trying to focus on his soothing words instead of the anxious thoughts racing through your head

Slowly and deliberately, he'll breathe in through his nose then out through his mouth, guiding you to follow along with his measured pattern

If that's still not enough, he'll then take your hand beneath his and hold it over his heart, letting its strong, steady rhythm lull you back to a calmer state

“You alright?” he questions once you've settled down again. When you nod and assure him you are, he'll kiss your temple, promising, “I've got you, dear. Always.”

Ghost

When he realized what was happening with you, he quickly jumped into action, but in a way that was completely unexpected

“Remember when you first took me out for sushi and I didn't know wasabi was hot?” he asks you seemingly out of the blue. “Ate a whole spoonful before I realized. Burned like hell going down. But that was nothin’ compared to when it came out again later.”

The memory of that night stirs to life in your mind, and through your rapid breaths and trembling lips, you're able to crack the barest of smiles

He continues, “Or remember when I got sprayed by that skunk in the garden? You made me sleep on the couch for three days. Said I smelled like a garbage bin’s arsehole.”

That memory has you huffing out a short, low chuckle, and though you don't notice it, your pulse begins to hammer a little slower

And so he keeps going, distracting you with funny memories and personal anecdotes until all you're doing is smiling and laughing brightly, totally forgetting what had made you panic in the first place

#wiw asks #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #john mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #soap x reader #kyle garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #gaz x reader #john price x reader #captain john price x reader #captain price x reader #simon riley #john mactavish #kyle garrick #john price #tf 141 x reader #task force 141 x reader #cod x reader #cod mw3 #call of duty #modern warfare 3

[billysgun]

bandage

billy the kid x sheriffs!daughter |requested!| after you found him wounded, you took him back to your house where you healed a very flirty billy.|

"you're a mess" you mumbled, hands working fast as you pressed the clean cloth into his wound

he spits through gritted teeth as he lays sprawled on your table

"lucky I found you" you whisper, thinking about how unlikely anyone else would be out in the fields when his horse flipped him over and dragged him with his hands gripped tight on the rein, splitting his leg open

"am I?" he grunts as you wipe the blood around his open leg

"why didn't you let go of the damn horse?" you scolded him but he only let out a pained chuckled

"can't lose my stuff, honey. plus your daddy would've done shit for it" he grins at you, nodding toward the framed certificate hung on the wall with your father's license. he's the local sheriff and would kill you for having this out-law on your dining table

"he works with crimes, not stupid accidents" you mumbled, grabbing the needle and threading it through his skin as he screamed out in pain

"he's a corrupted piece of shit you know" he yells out as you stitch him up, you snort at his comment, thinking it was bold of him to so openly hate on your family while you healed him. then again, the whiskey you had him chug for the pain was probably taking its effect

"and this was a crime, dear" he adds, and you look up at him

"tell me more, cowboy" you say sarcastically but he only smiles

"yeah well, I will! someone was shootin' my way and almost hit my horse, that's why he was runnin'!" he confesses and you tie the end of your stitch

"stray bullets sometimes happen, it is huntin' season" you mumble as you do a few more ties for good measure

"nah, people want me dead, dear" he relaxes when you step back and you undo your bloody apron

"downside of being an outlaw, I suppose?" you question and he lets out an airy laugh

"I need to get going though, thank you" he says, twisting his body over and you run to push him back down

"no, no, no. you ain't walkin' on that leg for at least 2 weeks" you say but he dismisses you, putting his weight on the other leg as he drags himself to the exit of your dining room

"guess that means I'll need a follow-up visit?" he smiles and you roll your eyes

"that would be nice. because of the leg" you add and he slowly nods

"right, for the leg" and just like that the outlaw was gone and you ran upstairs to mark 2 weeks from now in your planner with a grin like no other spread on your face.

an: thank you so much for requesting! I had so much fun making this <3

#the hunger games #billy the kid #william h bonney x reader #coriolanus snow x reader #tom blyth x reader #billy the kid 2022 #billy the kid x reader #william bonney #kid antrim #corio snow #coriolanus snow imagine #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow #coriolanus x you #tbosas #tom blyth #tom blyth fanfiction #tom blyth imagine #tom blyth x you #coriolanus snow x you #president snow #coryo snow #ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosbas #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #thg fanfiction #the hunger games imagine #thg #hunger games