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poughkeepsies · 2 days

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when you're gone, i come undone

Buck’s never been religious, and he sure as hell wasn’t raised with the brand of catholicism that seems to plague Bobby and Eddie’s every step, but he thinks he can understand why Bobby likes his rosary beads so much. At the very least it would give him something to do with his hands while he sits vigil at Bobby’s side, way past the time visitors who aren’t on a first-name basis with half of the hospital staff would be allowed.

The others had left hours ago, some with kids who needed taking care of and others anticipating early shifts the next day, promising to take over from him as soon as visiting hours started. There was no shortage of people who wanted to be the one to keep watch over Bobby, but the night shift would’ve usually fallen to Athena, if she wasn’t recovering in her own room and allowed more than a couple minutes out of bed at a time to come see him.

There was a quiet devastation clinging to her that Buck had never seen before. Maybe because before there would’ve been the safe walls of her home and the arms of her husband to cover her when she lost her unflappable mask.

That, more than anything, makes him feel utterly helpless. As much as he had been thinking of Bobby as more of a dad to him than his own father for close to a decade, Athena was never his mom.

After the rough patch at the start of their relationship, they’d understood each other in the way only two people who love someone as much as they both loved Bobby could. You hold half of his heart, so you’ll hold your fair share of mine, as well. Maybe that was why he’d taken one look at the longing in Athena’s eyes and promised to stay the night with Bobby. No matter his own desire to never let Bobby out of his sight again, he also wanted to protect the pieces of Bobby that were with Athena, as well.

The only problem is that Buck has never been able to stay still for too long. He fidgets, and he bustles, and he fills silences. At the minimum, it usually earns him a dead-pan look that’s suspiciously drenched in fondness, or his name uttered in gentle scolding twinged with amusement.

He half-expects the latter to fall from the corner of Bobby’s mouth with a single eyelid cracked open to give its best effort at the former, the way it usually happens when they’re in the bunkroom and everyone else is ready to sleep like the dead while Buck is wide-awake and wired like an electric fence.

The image stands in such contrast to the blank slate of Bobby’s unconscious face that it does nothing to soothe his nervous fidgeting. He’s leaning so far forward, trying to summon any sort of conscious intention behind the mechanical rise and fall of Bobby’s chest and every reflexive twitch of his face, that he accidentally shifts the chair, so the bottom slides against the floor and breaks the momentary silence that only exists between the regular beeping and intercom noises that come muffled through the hospital room doors.

Come on, Bobby. Tell me to shut up and go to bed. Tell me it’s late, and I can either close my eyes and actually try to sleep or go make some of that lavender tea we keep for this exact reason. You know you want to. Stilling so as to not miss any minute signs of Bobby’s stirring, Buck’s breath catches tight in his lungs like it used to when the fridge door would be too loud as he tried to sneak past his dad’s sleeping form in the living room armchair when he was a kid. Unlike back then, the disappointment when Bobby fails to stir is a living thing that threatens to swallow him whole. He rides the wave of devastation by opening his mouth and intentionally filling the silence, instead.

“I’m gonna say something, but you can’t get mad at me,” he says. Bobby is silent, but that’s not much different from how he’d usually react to such an opening from Buck, so he takes that as his go-head anyway. “I think this may be all my fault.”

It’s probably just his own nerves, but the air in the room settles around the words with so much tension that it only serves to spur him on. “Not the- not the fire, obviously. I mean, I had no idea you’d even met the guy Athena thinks is responsible for it, but that’s kind of what I mean, you know? I had no idea.”

His breath is shaky as he exhales, a tremble running up his shoulders.

“I don’t- I don’t think I ever told you, what I saw when I was in the coma. Maybe you already guessed. Some days it’s like you seem to know what’s going on in my brain better than even I do, but it was just. It was a different world, Bobby. Daniel was still alive, so I guess I never had a reason to come to L.A. and join the academy and everything was just…wrong. Maddie was still with Doug, and Eddie never got to meet Carla so he couldn’t figure everything out fast enough to keep Chris, and Chimney…well, Chim was still Chimney but he told me that you were dead, Bobby. He told me you’d been dead for years and it was like I couldn’t breathe.”

He kind of feels like that now, actually. His face feels hot and his eyelashes are heavy like when he’s about to cry but his eyes are dry. For the first time in years, he’s in agreement with his body’s reaction to something. If he were to start crying now, he wouldn’t ever be able to stop, and that feels too much like giving up to be acceptable.

Deep breath, he thinks, in through his nose and pushed out from his mouth. His lips are dry. He keeps going.

“I used to think that’s why I died, you know. Like I was supposed to learn something and that’s the only way the universe could think to get it through my thick skull, I guess.”

“But I think I got it wrong,” he whispers, and it echoes as loud as the beeping from the heart monitor.

“I thought it meant that I matter, you know. Like, ‘they need you as much as you need them! Don’t leave them alone!’ But I was so stupid.” So much for not crying. His day-old stubble is damp with tears. He’s been wearing these clothes for more than 24 hours at this point and he’s starting to feel overstimulated in the way he sometimes does when they’re on a busy shift and don’t have time to freshen up. It occurs to him that Bobby usually notices, like he notices most things that have the potential to bother any of them. This would be the time when he tells Buck to go ahead and take a quick shower while he reheats the food. And Buck would come back good as new, a weight lifted off his shoulders before he could even recognize it because someone cared enough about him to know him better than he did himself.

“I’ve been so caught up in my own stuff since I came back and, God, I’ve just been so happy these past couple of months it feels like I’ve been walking around with blinders on. I didn’t even notice this thing going on with Eddie until it was too late and now he might lose Christopher. You came to talk to me after our last shift and I should’ve - I should’ve - noticed something was wrong but all I could think about was if I had everything to go stay with Tommy. a-and then something happened with Eddie, and I honestly don’t think I spared you a single other thought that night, Bobby. I was using your recipe to make dinner for my date while your house was burning down.”

He’s tripping over his words, like if he says them fast enough he can reach Bobby and earn his forgiveness first, before the disappointment settles in and bars the gates.

“I should’ve remembered, Bobby. The dream showed me a world where I wasn’t there and you died, and I left it. I came back because I couldn’t live in that world. I refuse to.” Saying the words settles something in him, and he wipes the wetness from his eyes away with the flat of his palm before crossing his arms and sitting up in the chair, body once again posed like a shield between the outside world and the figure lying in the bed.

“Look, maybe-maybe I already missed the chance the universe gave me. But you know better than anyone that I’m way better at third chances anyway.” He tries for a smile, and if he squints really hard he can almost see the muscles under Bobby’s eyes tensing the way they do when he’s about to smile, too.

“You’ve never given up on me before, Bobby. Don’t start now.”

The monitor’s beeping remains the only other sound in the room, but that’s okay. He’s learning to be patient. Bobby knows that, too.

#dear god im literally in emt class rn but i had to post #if anythings fucked ill fix it later #911 spoilers #weewoo brainrot #evan buckley #911 abc #bobby nash

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scarletfasinera · 7 months

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The way grown adults in their twenties still talk about how they didn't learn about x historical event or y horrific thing the US did back when they were in highschool as if it's any excuse for their willful ignorance is like actually so pathetic. It's four years of schooling that you had a decade ago of course you didn't learn every single thing in the world, no one does in any school in any country. You're not special. It's time to grow up and make the effort to learn things for yourself, You're Not In Highschool Anymore

#txt #like it's always “I didn't learn xyz in school” and “the US education system sucks” girl you're 25.#Literally stop talking about highschool.#If you're not going to make the effort at least own up to it instead of making excuses and getting defensive #Like all of these people spend so much time complaining about what the US didn't teach them when they were a CHILD #when they could be spending that time. Googling? Reading? Asking their peers questions?#This is the information age. There is literally no excuse #when most of these people are on the computer actively using the internet for hours upon hours every day #or their phone or tablet or whatever else #making post after post on social media. But literally only getting their news from Twitter or Tumblr? Insane.#Do some reading yourself.#Idk check out library books. Your library needs the foot traffic anyway.#Ask questions on Reddit. There's plenty of people who actually are totally interested in answering your questions in good faith.#Ask questions on TUMBLR even. I know there's plenty of people HERE who are willing to answer questions in good faith.#Your peers are a great respurce to utilize for learning about Literally Anything!#Not that everyone knows everything. But it's still awesome to ask your peers questions and discuss things with them!#Like it's actually a great way to learn new things! It's kind of ONE of the big reasons things are taught in whole classes of people!#I can't stress enough! OP makes a post it is ok to ask them a question about it or ask about further reading or ask for a source!#As long as you're asking in good faith because you want to learn! It's not a bad thing to do!#If OP gets really upset and nasty about the question—that's not cool BUT you can't really blame them.#If they are a victim of whatever their post is about it's very frustrating for them and moreso that they feel they have to TEACH people #about it. So give people some grace in that regard. Not everyone will have perfect responses 24/7.#For the most part people will be able to recognise and understand the genuine desire to learn about something and help and will be at LEAST #willing to point you in a direction. Even if it's just a Subreddit or another tumblr acc or something #Like I cannot stress enough. You can do something to change your “lack of education” about subjects by Educating Yourself #and Asking. Questions. And. Talking. To. Your. Peers. About. Things.#There's a hobbyist for everything. There's one autistic guy with a special interest out there that has all the answers to your questions #There is also like. News that isn't state-sponsered. But use critical thinking and look into sources.

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markster666 · 4 months

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Hey! I noticed you write smut for everyones favorite deer man. Episode 5 was getting to me with those tentacles! i was wondering if you could write something to do with that when you get the chance? 👀

Yes I do! Your wish is my command. <33

ALASTOR X READER (SMUT/18+) - TENTACLES

Pairing: Alastor x Fem!Reader

Tags: Smut, 18+, Double Penetration, Tentacles, Porn without much plot, Daddy Kink, Master Kink, Pet Kink, Sensory Deprivation, CNC, and other stuff lol

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Word Count: 863

A/N: Thank you so much to @thatdeadstoat for taking the time and effort to put in this prompt request. I'm so happy with all the Alastor lore and screen time lol. Unedited, so apologies for spelling mistakes. Requests are open.

You heard Alastor's microphone cane tapping the ground as he walked down the hallway to your room. You couldn't even see his face but you could FEEL the seething energy rising from him. He didn't even knock as he busted open your door, slamming it roughly behind him and leaning against it.

"I don't know WHY Charlie thought it was a brilliant idea to bring that low life to this hotel. I despise him with a furious passion."

You shrugged very slightly and sat up in your bed, pausing the tv show you were watching.

"It's her father, Alastor. They're blood. At least he's trying."

Alastors ears furrow back as he squints at you.

"I can't believe you're justifying him, my Dear! I taught you so much better than that."

You bit your lip.

"I was just trying to state my opinion-"

You cut yourself off as he purposely made a threatening walk towards you, his eyes filled with a cannibalistic nature.

"Your opinion doesn't matter in this bedroom, my Dear, I'm CERTAIN i've made that clear, no? Do you need a reminder?"

Before you could open your mouth to speak, his tentacles appeared out of thin air, one of them wrapping around your mouth like a gag and the others pinning you to the bed on your stomach, wrapped around your body like a bunch of rope to keep your arms locked to your side. Alastor got on top of you, straddling the small of your back and wrapping a hand around your throat, squeezing gently on the sides. He pulled your hair aggressively up and got close to your ear,

"Not like you had much of a choice anyways, little one. If you're a good pet, I might let you feel some of your own pleasure, but for now, let your Master let off some steam, hm?"

The tentacle around your mouth tightened as you desperately nodded, trying to murmur something to him but instead it comes out as groans.

"What was that, my Dear? I can't hear you."

He was obviously mocking you. His grin grew wider.

"Since you can't keep your opinionated mouth shut, that restraint is not going anywhere. If I hear you try to speak, I will not give you relief. Do I make myself clear?"

You nodded, feeling your core heat up and the wetness starting to spill down your legs.

"Good."

He gives you a quick kiss on the cheek before slamming your face into the pillow, ripping down your pants and feeling your pussy through your panties.

"Oh my! I haven't even DONE anything yet, Princess! Maybe you really DO need this!"

He moved your panties to the side and inserted a two fingers into your cunt, not giving you much time to adjust before pumping them out as fast as he could. You instinctively arched your back before moaning out in overstimulation as he pushed your face harder into the pillow, his hand entangled in your hair.

He kept going for a good bit before stopping, slapping your ass once before letting go of your hair. You were panting and whimpering and felt your juices dripping down your thighs onto the bed.

You felt humilated and he felt like a god.

Before you could catch your breath, you instantly felt Alastor press into your pussy all the way to the hilt, filling you up in just the perfect way. His ears furrowed back as he gripped your hips tighter.

"Goooood girl, you take me so well. Now, just be still and let Daddy breed you."

You were a moaning whimpering mess as he started fucking you into the mattress, his tentacles still wrapped around your body and your mouth. He had an animalistic rage inside of him making him grasp at every part of you, trying to fuck you as deep as he could.

And you loved every second of it.

He kept going for awhile before you felt something push against your asshole. You winced and then moaned in pure pleasure as one of his tentacles inserted itself into it, both holes now being used and filled up.

You bit against the tentacle keeping your mouth in place while you were being brutalized by the deer demon. You were moaning so loud you could probably guess everybody was hearing this.

It wasn't long until Alastor was close, his thrusts become more sloppy and his grip on your hips becoming tighter. You felt yourself getting close to.

"Cum for me."

You instantly came at the sound of his voice and he came too, pushing as deep as he could go. You two stayed in that position for awhile, catching your breathes before he took his tentacles out of you and from around you and himself out as well. You tried to stand up to use the restroom to empty his seed out but he stopped you,

"Ah ah, at least give it 10 minutes, Pet."

He gave you a small kiss on the forehead and dressed himself, sitting on the edge of your bed.

"Thanks Alastor... I guess I really did need that."

His grin grew as wide as it could.

"Good girl."

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

A/N: Thank you so much for everybody who has read! Your support means the world to me. If you didn't know, I will be participating in Kinktober (except in February lol) with some pretty smutty prompts starting February 1st and going on all month, so if you like my writing and want some more Alastor x reader smuts, please consider following. Lots of love.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin alastor #alastor the radio demon #alastor x reader #18+ only #alastor x reader smut #18+ mdni

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twistedwonderlandshenanigans · 2 months

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I Need You

The TWST Cast's reaction, (under the preamble), when you tell them you're going home (assuming close platonic relationships, and reader having expressed uncertainty of wanting to return home at some point prior to this/has underlying doubts that they would be missed if they did leave) May be a little OOC sorry, and there are inconsistencies but it's not bad, still, sorry

Approx. 7.6k words, but separated by character so feel free to just read the character you want lmao (unless it's Malleus, sorry) ----------------------------------------------------- You had expected to happy. Overjoyed, excited, if and when the headmage finally told you he had found a way for you to return home, now that you had 'seen your use' here in Twisted Wonderland. Of course, he was no monster, and in his abundant generousity allowed you to have your time to say good byes and collect your things before he would send you on your way. He seemed to take your pure shock as a positive thing, ushering you out of his office in glee as he had finally fulfilled his promise he made to you when you first arrived.

There was so much you wanted to say, to protest, but the headmage was adamant and quick, and the words swirled in your head. Had you really just been a tool for him? Had he summoned you in the first place merely to take care of issues he had an inclination would arise? Your feet had never felt more leaded, your heart had never felt so heavy, and breathing had never required this much effort. Why did it hurt so bad? You were going home. But it wasn't the place you had come from that was associated with that word anymore, instead it was Ramshackle, complete with three ghosts and a grey, cat-like creature sitting in front of it, waiting for you to return. You couldn't just leave, could you? At least when you'd been brought here, you hadn't been given a choice, it just... happened. You may not have been happy at first, but it wasn't like there was much waiting for you at home either, nothing you really felt was worth giving up the experiences you had here; good and bad as the memories had come, you had friends and....family here that you wouldn't give up for the world. But the headmage seemed to have his mind set on sending you home.

You hugged yourself, doubt forming nasty storms of thoughts you'd rather not have, wondering whether anyone here would miss you if you left, especially now that everyone's problems were well on their way to being solved. You knew you had contributed, but was this a job or were you friends? It was getting hard to tell. You realized you would rather just tell them you were going home...and if they wanted you around, they'd tell you, right?

You sought out your closest...who you thought was your closest friend, looking for comfort and their opinion, unable to meet their eyes as you quietly told them, "I'm going home."

Heartslaybul

Riddle It seemed so out of the blue. You had come over for tea as per usual, though more pensive than normal, nothing had seemed out of the ordinary. Your words hit Riddle like a truck, making him audibly gasp softly. He looked down into his tea, struggling to hold back tears as he ran his thumb over the small hump of the handle on his teacup, his reflection rippling from the tremble in his hands. After some silence and practiced, slow breathing, he spoke, though neither of you made eye contact. "If that is what you want....I support you wholeheartedly...though I must admit...you will be...dearly missed." He tried to hide the shakiness in his voice. You had always been so supportive of him, so eager to ensure he had a place and people to turn to when he needed them, if all you needed was support from him in this moment, he would provide it...even if it hurt him.

You looked up from your tea sadly, only to watch as fat tears rolled down Riddle's cheeks. You struggled to hold back your own tears as you reached across the table and offered your hand to him. He looked up at you at first in surprise, then took your hand and wiped the tears from his face with his other hand, rather hastily before laughing softly, though it sounded pained.

"My apologies...I do not wish to influence your decision in-"

You cut him off squeezing his hand gently as tears began streaming down your face, your voice quiet, but desperate.

"Please...just tell me to stay....or...or go."

You swallowed hard and looked away, unsure of what you would do if the redhead told you it was best if you left.

Teary, stormy grey eyes finally looked towards you, first in confusion, then in fondness and relief as he smiled a bit and tried to inject some authority into his voice.

"My word is law. As of this moment, rule 811 and is as follows." You looked up in confusion and anxiety - there were only 810 rules, and Riddle had made it clear that he never wished to amend them in anyway. His smile only grew softer as his thumb ran over your knuckles gently so as to try and comfort you, though a small laugh bubbled out of him.

"I was going to try and make it all official sounding...but the truth is I need you...so please...if it's my input that will make your decision, I implore you....stay with me."

You couldn't help the smile that bloomed, and the relieved laughter that left you as you wiped at your eyes a bit more as both you and Riddle stood up from the table, the boy opening his arms to you for a hug.

"You scared me there for a moment."

"I scared you? You practically informed me that this would be one of our last times together unless I convinced you to stay! I thought a rule may be more convincing than...just my begging but..." he trailed off, snuggling into you a bit more and holding you a little tighter. "It worked. That's all that matters to me."

Trey

You were sitting at the island in the Heartslaybul kitchen, just watching Trey bake. You told him you had something important to tell him, so he had tilted his head and told you he was listening. However, after telling him that you were headed home, he didn't so much as glance back at you; he had just continued measuring out cups of flour, leaving you feeling rather dejected and hurt.

"Did you hear me?"

Trey glanced over his shoulder a bit, continuing to work. "I did."

You were somewhat baffled that he didn't add anything, watching him in mildly offended disbelief.

"You have nothing to say on the matter?"

"I do. But I don't think you want to hear it." He moved to wash his hands in the sink, his side profile now visible to you, and disturbingly absent of any trace of sadness. If anything, he was wearing a small smirk. Did he really not care if you left? You were disgruntled, allowing a moment of silence between the two of you before you spoke up.

"Well I do want to hear it."

At that, Trey turned and looked at you, his smile only getting a little bigger.

"You're not going home. Your heart's not in it. You're just echoing what you've been told because you think you have to go but you don't. The headmage can't force you to go home, so just say no thank you to him and let it be done with."

You sat in baffled silence for a moment before somewhat timidly asking, "Was it that clear I didn't want to go?"

Trey chuckled softly, returning to his work. "It was clear from the moment you walked in here you weren't happy about whatever you were going to try and tell me. Once I get these baked off, I'll come with you to the headmage. You're not going anywhere unless you want to, I promise."

Cater

You had texted him that you had something you wanted to tell him, but never in a million years did he think you meant you were leaving him.

He thought he had been in this position a million times before - you make a friend, you get their contact information, you fool around and then it's time to leave.

Only you were an actual...friend not an acquaintance. Not to mention, you could have moved to Atlantica and he was sure he could have found a way to keep in touch with you at the very least.

But you were going to leave this world. This pocket of space and time.

Cater rapidly blinked back tears and forced a cheery smile and an uncomfortable sounding laugh as he took your hand in his.

"Ok, haha, funny prank, now where are the cameras? Like, this is a bit, right, something you're gonna post on Magicam to start a trend?...it's a prank, right? Do you need a bigger reaction? I can give you a bigger reaction, we can do this take again, just tell me it's a prank." He bit his lip, fighting back tears as he squeezed both of your hands in his, emerald eyes desperately searching your face for any hint that this was meant to be a joke and nothing more. You knew how much you meant to him, you knew about the pattern he'd been forced to fall into, even if this was a bad joke, it was better than it being the truth.

You had to blink back your own tears, turning your face away from him a bit as a small sob left you and you closed the gap between the two of you in a hug, burying your face into him as you started to cry. He held you close and tightly, afraid that letting you go would mean letting you go forever as he struggled to keep his own emotions in check, sniffling.

"Do you really have to g-go?" He choked up over the word, shallow, panicked breathing not helping his emotions.

You sniffled and looked up at him, tears streaming down both of your faces at this point.

"Please don't go...not if it's making you this upset to leave...and you have a choice...please don't leave me" He begged you softly, waiting with bated breath for your decision.

You looked up at him tearfully, trying to smile as you made up your mind.

"I'm not going anywhere."

Those words alone were enough to bring Cater to his knees, his body giving out on him from the sheer amount of relief he felt knowing...he wouldn't be alone again. As long as you were around, he had someone to keep living for. You sat down on his bed, gently patting the mattress beside you as a silent invitation for him to join, but the most he could manage was a mumbled apology for getting your pants wet as he cried into your lap, too exhausted to pick himself up off the floor.

Deuce

It took a moment for him to process what you were saying. He had barely walked through the doors of Ramshackle at your request for him to come over, and now you were telling him you were leaving??

You had been waiting anxiously for his arrival, so before you even got through the niceties of thanking him for coming, you had kind of just blurted it out to him.

The shock was still running through his veins, so he also blurted the first thing that came to mind.

"But I already told my mom that you're coming for Thanksgiving next year!"

You both stared at each other in silence for a moment, before reality sunk in. You started laughing a little bit, but not without tears starting to well up.

"Well then I guess I've got to stick around until Thanksgiving."

Deuce didn't get the joking tone, tearing up, his bottom lip quivering a bit.

"So you're gonna go home after Thanksgiving? Why are you laughing, this isn't funny." He couldn't help but laugh a tiny bit as well, confused and upset at your reaction.

You shook your head and wiped your eyes a bit, smiling a bit "Well I mean...if I'm invited over for every Thanksgiving, I can't exactly go anywhere because skipping out would just be rude, wouldn't it?" In truth...the fact that he had gone so far as to plan at least a year in advance was enough to confirm that at least one person here wanted you to stay.

Deuce picked up on it now, beaming and tackling you in a tight hug, crushing you more than he intended to. You could feel the tears on his cheek still though as he spoke.

"You're invited to every Thanksgiving at my house from now until the end of time, okay?! You have to be there!"

Ace

It felt like the world stopped moving. He was just planning a prank to pull off on one of his upperclassmen, and was about to share his masterplan with you until he'd seen your face and made the mistake of asking what was wrong.

He just sat himself down next to you on the old Ramshackle couch, arms on his knees, his head down and pensive.

"So that's it? You're just going to up and leave?" You could sense there was more he wanted to say, but was biting his tongue for once, for your sake. His eyes were fixed on the uneven flooring beneath his feet, expression stern and unmoving as he tried to rationalize why you would want to leave.

You took in a sharp breath, trying to respond, but nothing came out.

Ace's brow furrowed in frustration, but tried to hide it by turning his face away.

"I thought you said you were happy here. Sure, things haven't been great, but I thought you had made peace with the fact Crowley is a lazy piece of shit that wasn't going to do anything to get you back where you came from. I thought...." His voice caught for a moment, his breath shaky. "....I thought you'd already decided to stay...because this is home now...I thought the friendships you've made here would be enough to keep you here since you never talk about the friends or family you had back....wherever you came from." He had to stand up at this point, pacing in front of you.

"You have people who care about you here, okay?! You gotta give us more than a days notice or so, don't we deserve that in the very least? Like at least give us time to throw you a party or something but more importantly, give us time to adjust to the idea that our friend is going to be out of our lives forever!" He took a few shaky breaths, panting a bit as he pushed his hair out of his face, trying not to let tears form. Not now. Not in front of you.

His words made you recoil slightly as you felt the need to defend yourself.

"I don't want to adjust to a life without you guys either!"

He looked at you dumbfounded and unamused.

"Then why the fuck are you leaving?"

It took you a moment to process, looking down a bit before responding.

".....I didn't know what I wanted until I heard the opposite of what I wanted...and...well I guess it's kinda dumb, but I think I needed to know that I would actually be missed."

Though you didn't see it, Ace's expression softened immediately. He sighed and sat back down next to you, hugging you tightly to him. "Yeah idiot, I, for one, would miss you a ton...I mean who else is gonna talk Riddle outta givin' me the collar?"

You couldn't help but snort a bit at that, making Ace grin. Thank the Sevens, this wouldn't be the last time he'd try to make you laugh.

Savanaclaw

Leona

You barging into his room wasn't exactly unheard of, rather, your footsteps had become a very comforting sound as they approached his bedroom. He had pretended to be asleep as he heard you coming this time, but just wanted to silently enjoy your company for a bit before "waking up".

Your announcement had him upright in the blink of an eye though, tail flicking in discontent behind him. He studied you for a mere moment before yawning and laying back down.

"If that's so, you better get over here. I demand at least one more nap together."

You didn't really know what to make of his reaction, curiosity over whether that was really "it" or not getting to you as you ventured closer to his bed. As soon as you were close enough, he yanked you close to him, making you yelp. He immediately maneuvered the two of you so that he could lay his head on your shoulder, effectively hiding his face from you...and keeping you somewhat pinned.

"Good luck leaving now herbivore...you're gonna miss this too much if you leave...and you'll no longer have a prince taking care of your every need...and-" He sounded almost like a child, pleading in his own way to be good enough for you to want to stay. If he couldn't be good enough at home, he wanted to know he would still have you.

You ran your fingers gently through his hair.

"Yeah you're right...I think I've gotten too used to this lifestyle to ever go back."

You could feel the tension leave his body as he pressed his head against your hand a little harder.

"Good. You're stuck with me forever."

You couldn't help but smile, any doubts you had melting away with those words alone.

Ruggie

You caught him off guard while he was on laundry duty for Leona, his back to you as silence so thick you could cut it filled the space between you two. Ruggie's ears were pressed flat against his head, his tail had stopped wagging, and for a moment, he didn't move, his hand gripping onto the useless piece of cloth in front of him. You opened your mouth to say something, but he turned to face you, looking over you for a moment.

"Y'know, usually in moments like this I quote my grandma..." You looked a bit confused, thrown off by where he was going with this as his tail started to wag the slightest bit.

"But I don't think she's got anything better than the kids at home do for this situation." He grins and covers his ears with his hands, tail wagging faster. "I didn't hear you so it doesn't count!"

Despite his playful demeanor, you could see tears welling in the corners of his eyes.

"Ruggie-" he immediately closed his eyes so he couldn't see your lips moving either, shaking his head as he tried to deny the news you'd given him.

"I...I can't hear you....please...just...if...if I can't hear you....I can pretend you're at Ramshackle...or somewhere else on Sage Island....I can...it'll be...." his rambling tapered off into soft, gaspy sobs, his hands falling away from his head, moving to hug himself instead. "If you leave...I can just pretend l-like you know how to get back....even..even if your world has no magic."

As soon as your arms wrapped around him, he was hugging you instead, burying his face into your neck and sobbing, his voice cracking as he asked softly, "This...this isn't a g-goodbye hug yet, right?"

"It's not a goodbye hug at all." You nuzzled into his hair a bit, causing him to relax in your hold.

"....do I have to prepare for a goodbye hug in my future?" You didn't have to think about it, shaking your head immediately, and causing him to cling onto you as if to convince himself you weren't going anywhere.

Jack

At your request, Jack had made the trip out to Ramshackle, rather happy that you wanted to see him - though he didn't want to admit it. However, his demeanor shifted as he saw you sitting rather dejectedly on the stairs outside of your dorm. He quickened his pace, before rather awkwardly sitting in front of you on the ground instead of beside you.

Upon checking in on you and receiving the news that you were to go home, his tail curled up beside him and his ears flattened, though he looked more pensive than anything.

"....do you want to go home?"

You looked at him, rather exhausted and rubbed your eye a bit. "I don't know anymore Jack and that's half the issue...I mean at the beginning of the year, yeah, that was what I wanted more than anything but now..." He watched your expression sadden a bit. A comfortable silence fell between you two as you stewed in your conflict and he tried to brainstorm a way to get you to stay without coming off as desperate.

"....you know....they say home is where the heart is..." He looked away a little awkwardly, feeling you silently ask for an explanation with your expression. "....so...if you can figure out where your heart lies....maybe it'll make your decision easier...but for me it's always laid with my family and I uh...consider you family too." He couldn't help but blush a bit at the admission, but felt a little guilty saying it out loud. Though you'd never really talked about your family at home, it wasn't fair to assume they weren't important to you, or to make you feel like you had to choose between one family and the other- if you felt the same way about him, or other friends at least.

His guilt faded as soon as he felt your cool hand against his cheek, a smile on your face despite the tears in your eyes. His tail started wagging a mile a minute as your choice became clear, that you saw him the same way.

Octavinelle

Azul

He was grateful you had come to talk to him in his office. It was much easier to keep his composure between the two of you, though you didn't miss the way his expression darkened for a moment immediately after hearing the news.

You watched curiously as Azul fished a document out from his desk, raising it so as to hide his face as he began reading off of it.

"In the event that the Ramshackle prefect, (i.e Yuu), and any Ramshackle resident(s), excluding any ghosts, are to leave campus permanently before the year 20XX, this letter gives the recipient, (i.e Azul Ashengrotto, Owner of Mostro Lounge), permission to alter, upgrade, and otherwise renovate the Ramshackle dorm building in accordance with Sage Island's building and infrastructure laws and regulations in order to establish another restaurant on Night Raven College school grounds. Signed by Dire Crowley, Headmage of Night Raven College."

You stood there in silent disbelief at the sheer audacity he had, though in the silence that followed, you swore you heard a shaky sigh coming from behind the parchment.

"This would be so much easier if you had just decided I wasn't worth forgiving the first time I attempted to take over your dorm." He groaned softly, now hiding his face in folded arms against his desk as the letter from the headmage drifted to the floor.

"Oh so it's my fault for being nice that you can't take over what's been my home since I've gotten here?" Azul shook his head, sitting up, but rubbing his face with his hand, still adamant on not showing you his real emotions on the matter, before sighing and looking down, his voice wavering.

"....it's your fault that I need you as badly as I do....it's your fault that I've come to look forward to your daily visits...it's your fault that I get up in the morning and look in the mirror, and instead of thinking about how vile I am I remember the things you've said to me that make me smile...it's your fault that there's no way I could take over Ramshackle now that the place has sentimental value to me, as ridiculous as it seems to me, the memories we made far outweigh the economic benefits, and it's your fault I think of it that way."

He refused to look up, even as the soft tap of your shoes on the floor approached his desk, taking a seat across from him.

"I can take the blame for all that...but know that you're at fault too...because it's all your fault...that I'm staying here."

Jade

You had found him in the greenhouse, attending his beloved mushrooms when you dropped the boot on him. He debated for a moment, whether it would be worth it to make you eat one, or to put you to sleep, or otherwise incapacitate you for a short amount of time to give himself more time to process and enforce one of many long term plans he had to keep you here. He mulled over the possibilities rather numbly... in a world where had been taught ruthlessness and that only the fittest would survive, you had been that small sliver of mercy he'd come to love and appreciate. He thought he had done a fairly good job showing you what you meant to him as well, with a constant influx of shiny rocks he found on hikes, or petrified wood, or otherwise sharing his interests and listening to yours. He had shown you that he understood what you had taught him to be a little more comfortable with - vulnerability. So why were you trying to tear him apart now? Was this just another cruel lesson in fate?

He was so wrapped up in his thoughts, he failed to realize how long silence sat in the air after your announcement. He only snapped back to reality as your hands wrapped around him, your face against the back of his lab coat as you shuddered and sobbed.

"Please, Jade, if I go I'm gonna miss you, don't ignore me right now....please just...at least acknowledge I'll be gone."

He pulled your hands away from him gently, initially causing you more distress until he pulled you close to him again, your chest pressed against his chest so you could hear his heartbeat. His hug was gentle, yet felt all-encompassing as he kept his voice low, as if he was afraid anyone else would hear, despite the two of you being the only ones around.

"I would miss you too. So if you must go, promise you'll spend one more day with me before you leave."

A relieved sob left you as you clung to him weakly.

"I can do you one better."

He smiled, rocking you gently side to side, glad that he wouldn't have to risk betraying your trust to keep you there with him.

Floyd

You caught him right after basketball practice, high on life from the endorphin rush he was on. You hated to potentially put a damper on his mood, but you needed him to know. However, he had just laughed off your announcement, trying to walk away from you.

"Floyd please, I need you to listen, I'm being serious."

Floyd stopped in his tracks, just sighing tiredly and rubbing the back of his neck.

"Yeah, I know. Doesn't matter. You're not going anywhere."

"But the headmage finally-"

"NO!...Who gives a fuck what the headmage's done, he ain't done shit for you since you arrived, you worked your ass off, lived in a shitty little house, dealt with crazy magic users and barely got paid your worth! But through all that, y'stayed. Things are better now. Just...just stay 'nd enjoy it with the people who care 'bout'chya k? I ain't lettin' you go back until you've at least had a vacation, k? It's your turn to get a happy endin...and you can't lie to me and say that's back in whatever timeline you're from cuz....cuz you told me once that I make ya happy...." His expression had been manic and angry at first, but as his rant came to an end, he looked like he was close to tears.

You couldn't help and smile a tiny bit, moving to hug him, though he met you half way, and the two of you crumpled to the ground as he found ways to wrap around you that you didn't think were humanly possible...but it made you feel safe, secure as you nuzzled into him.

"Just stay ok...I'll talk to the headmage for ya...but don't leave me, ok?...I gotta see ya smile til your cheeks hurt one day."

Scarabia

Kalim

When you had let him know you were coming over, he had asked Jamil to set up a small platter for the two of you to share. At first, he had just whined a bit - why were you going back to Ramshackle so soon? You just got to his dorm, now you wanted to leave? You'd at least take some snacks with you, right?

You sighed a bit, before trying again.

"Kalim...the headmage...has found a way for me to go home home." There was a beat of silence between the two of you, before the boy became a sniveling mess across from you, quickly devolving into full blown bawling as he all but launched himself at you, hugging you around your waist as tears started to soak the fabric of your shirt. He was near incomprehensible, though the message was fairly clear in his sobbing that he wasn't ready to let you go, and he'd do anything to keep you with him.

Jamil

He was busy cooking in the kitchen, enjoying your company, though it was clear you had something on your mind. He didn't pry, but eventually it came out. He just kept working, glad that he had prepared for this day to come.

"Well if you want me to wish you well and see you off, then I suppose now's a good a time as any to say goodbye." He barely glanced over his shoulder, giving you a subtle nod. "Goodbye."

It stung more than you expected it to, but at least he had been decisive, and made it easier for you to walk away from everything. He watched as you got up from your seat and walked towards the door, looking rather sad. He sighed a bit, wiping his hands off on a cloth.

"Did you really think leaving was going to be that easy? You know too much about me. You're not going anywhere. Follow me."

The apparent switch up in attitude had you hopeful and curious as he led you to his room, unlocking the door, then unlocking a small drawer at his desk, pulling out papers, which at a glance, had your name on them.

"I figured since you've shut down any conversation of your personal life at home, the only reason you'd ever want to return would want to return there was because of the financial stability you may have had, and the idea of needing financial assistance was daunting or embarrassing, same with getting your citizenship and passport for Twisted Wonderland. But I've gone ahead and pulled a few strings and made deals with some of Kalim's aunties. Now....you've got a deed to a home once you graduate, you have health insurance, you have a citizenship from Scalding Sands, and a passport from Scalding Sands."

He stacked each wad of paper in your hands as he explained them, before looking rather smug and booping your nose.

"Of course, if you still plan to leave I could just hypnotize you."

Pomefiore

Vil

You had gone to him to his room, sat on his bed and just watched him paint his nails at his vanity. He could practically feel the anxiety radiating off of you, but he had the time, so he waited until you told him yourself rather than pressing you. He could hear the way your breath trembled, uneven gasps for air that you tried to keep under control as he just shook his head.

"Do I really need to tell you how all this is going to play out?" His icy violet eyes locked onto your startled ones in the mirror, as you tried to wipe any evidence of crying away from your face. You were confused, and conflicted, making Vil's face soften just the smallest bit as he redirected his gaze and attention to his nails.

"You tell me you want to go. As your friend, I'll support you in what would make you happiest, though I'm not going to tell you what would make you happiest, that's for you to decide. You'll go back to Ramshackle, start packing your things, still second guessing yourself. It won't be until you're in front of the mirror and the gravity of the situation hits you that there's no way for you to come back that you'll finally tell Crowley you'd like to stay..."

He finally turns around to look you face to face.

"So skip the song and dance, come to terms with the fact you'd like to stay, and I'll speak to the headmage on your behalf to inform him you'll be staying as long as you damn well please."

He had more conviction in both his expression and tone than you had heard before, and you certainly hadn't heard him cuss in any meaning of the word. It only took a moment longer of searching his expression to see the emotion behind the mask he was wearing was fear.

You couldn't help but sniffle and rub at your eyes a bit, nodding and laughing through your tears a bit.

"You're right. You always are. Thank you."

Visible relief, though subtle, was clear on Vil's face, the corner of his mouth turning up in a smile.

"Really now, did you think I was just going to let you walk out of my life like that? Absolutely not."

Rook

Rook had seen you leave the headmage's office looking incredibly upset, so moments later he fell into step beside you in silence. Without saying a word, the two of you headed in the direction of the woods, cutting through paths Rook had taught you to see until you reached a small clearing, a place Rook had shown you as his safe haven. The two of you had been laying silently on the grass, only broken by the sound of you beginning to cry as you confessed the reason you were upset.

He moved to hold you close immediately, letting you turn towards him as he gently rubbed your back and let you cry.

"Why are you letting this rest on you so heavily, mon trickster, when it's clear the thought of leaving is causing you so much distress...why would you want to go to the one place where I could not hope to follow you?"

He took your hand gently, placing it on his chest over his heart. "If you left, my heart may explode. You can feel it racing now....the thought of being without you may be too much for even me to handle...and you know I can take much more than I show." He bumped his head against yours lightly, not unlike a cat as he closed his eyes.

"Please...I can only handle so much heartache...stay where I can reach you..."

Epel

He ran into you quite literally, trying to make it back to Pomefiore after spell drive practice in time to avoid Vil's rant on punctuality. However, when he registered you were crying rather than laughing the impact off, he was worried he had hurt you more than he had gotten hurt himself, checking in on you anxiously until you let it spill.

His immediate reaction was like that of a toddler, a very determined expression as he just went "Nuh-uh."

It was enough to shock you out of both the pain you were in and to make you laugh a little incredulously, causing your tears to stop flowing for a moment.

"W...what?"

Epel's expression only deepened, though it was a little difficult to take him seriously.

"I said, nu-uh. You ain't goin' nowhere, not if I got anythin' t'say on the matter, y'hear? Your family's here, your friends are here an' the headmage can't do shit if y'up 'n' tell'm off for tryna send ya home just cuz it makes him feel better he finally kept a goddamn promise, no way, nu-uh, that ain't flyin' with me!" He huffed and grabbed your wrist gently.

"Now come on, you get to to be the one to tell Vil why I'm late."

Ignihyde

Idia

Usually, you would just sit in Idia's room, enjoying each other's company in silence as you did your own things. You had a keycard to his room, and he would get a chime in his headphones that let him know it was you coming in. To him, nothing was amiss as silence hung between the two of you for nearly two hours, though his headphone was slightly offset his ear in case you needed anything.

So when you all but whimpered "I can't do this anymore" his headphones all but flew off his head as he whirled around his chair to face you, confused and off put by your tone until you told him what was wrong.

He just paused, before a wide grin spread across his face, slightly manic.

"What you think I'd just let you leave? Just 'oh Idia, I can go home now so goodbye forever', you seriously think I'm going to let you walk away? You're my closest IRL friend, and I've....I've lost enough already, I'm not letting you make me loose again." He laughed, but it was pained as he pushed back his hair, trying to calm down and failing as he stood up and started pacing.

"You're....you can't be serious, right? You're just gonna leave? Did I do finally do something wrong? Wrong enough that you want to be sent to another timeline where I don't exist, where our friendship doesn't exist, like this was all for nothing?!" He stopped and looked at you, hurt and distressed, his voice shaky and small.

"....was it all for nothing?"

His intensity wasn't anything new, but it had never been directed at you specifically. The ends of his hair were flared up and tinted orange, but his expression was nothing but pleading until you burst into tears again, apologizing and promising you'd stay.

Ortho

He knew exactly why you'd been called into the headmage's office, and was waiting for you as you stepped out of the room, only to take your hand and drag you right back in, first, angry whirring leaving him, before he settled enough to say anything that you and the headmage could understand.

"How dare you! You can't make them feel like they don't have a choice, just because it gives you a sense of doing something right doesn't mean it is! You're gonna let them stay or I'm leaking the security cam footage of what you do in your office all day- then it'll really be confirmed that you're nothing but a useless pile of-"

"Ortho-"

His head whipped around at your warning tone, eyes wide. "What?....I was gonna say crap, not the other word."

You couldn't help the small chuckle that left you before Crowley spoke up.

"Now there's no need for all those threats Ortho-"

Ortho's attention whipped back to the headmage, and in the blink of an eye his face was directly in front of Dire's, uncomfortably close as two sets of slightly glowing yellow eyes focused on each other.

"Don't you even think about trying to send my sibling away again...or the security cam footage is going to be the least of your worries."

Diasomnia (sorry, Malleus and Lilia lovers this is the best I got rn)

Malleus

Nope. You've either read chapter 7, you're reading through chapter 7, or you will read chapter 7. Sorry, he's just as you'd expect him to be. (read as: I think writing this out will feel tedious and boring and I'll loose motivation in these last few characters because bro is the most predictable dude ever)

Lilia

It hadn't been difficult to find him - in fact, when you got to Ramshackle, he had helped himself to some rather questionable looking hot chocolate and was sitting on your couch, patting the space beside him, smiling a bit.

"From what I understand, you've got plenty to think about. They say all good things must come to an end, but if you're writing the story, why not add a few more chapters where you're happiest?"

Silver

You had found him napping under one of the trees on campus, surrounded by furry little friends as per usual. You made yourself at him, laying next to him with your head on his shoulder, just watching the slow rise and fall of his chest as you snuggled your friend for what felt like could be the last time. You weren't sure how much time had passed until a sharp inhale signaled he was waking up, snapping you out of your own dissociation. The familiar weight of you on his arm just made him give you a gentle squeeze as he woke up, softly greeting you, taking a moment to listen to his animal friends, then asking you what was wrong as he pulled you a little closer, turning towards you and placed his hand behind your head protectively.

Upon hearing what was bothering you, he shook his head a bit, and many of the critters that were around the two of you found ways to cuddle the both of you. With how much you were crying, it was only fair that they were concerned.

"Don't go home...clearly you're not happy...if the headmage is trying to force you to return home, tell him that you consider this world your home. Or Ramshackle...or Briar Valley...if you just say the word, I can ask fa- Lilia to start getting you a citizenship...then you'll not only be registered in Briar Valley...but we both know that Malleus would never let any of his citizens suffer either...and disobeying a direct order from fae royalty would put Crowley in a bad position." He hummed and pulled you a little closer. "Besides...without you, I'll only ever wake up to Sebek for the rest of my life...I adore him like a brother, but I admit I prefer your method of rousing me from slumber." It was subtle, but you could tell he tried to inject humour into his tone as he sighed deeply, but stayed tense until you gently played with his hair, tears starting to roll down your cheeks as you nodded and agreed - both to finding your place in this world permanently in Briar Valley...and as Silver's designated waker-upper.

Sebek

He had seen you while he was on his horse, excitedly riding over when he saw you wave, though as he got closer, your expression seemed less and less happy to see him. You wished he had waited until he was in front of you to ask what was wrong, but as you expected, as soon as he noticed something was amiss, his voice boomed across the field between the two of you, his poor horse startling some. It took him a moment to get control of his horse once more, before he managed to make it to you, hopping down and holding onto the reins tightly as he looked at you expectantly for an answer.

"WHAT DID THE HEADMAGE SAY TO YOU?!"

Both you and his poor horse flinched and startled, but Sebek scooped you up, mounting his horse easily with you in front of him, boxed in and secure in his arms as he was set and determined, heading towards the main school building, though when you looked back at his face, the trails of a few tears were clear on his cheeks.

"If the headmage's mind will not be changed, then we must inform Malleus. He will ensure you stay here with m- us. With us."

Extra (pretend you didn't say anything to him yet lol)

Grim

You had been sitting in Ramshackle for a while, the headmage's words eating away at you like acid, leaving you in a dissociative state on the couch. You were so out of it, so caught up in your feelings, that when Grim finally came home after messing around with some of the first years, you immediately felt your heart drop as he very gently, very concerned looking, put his paw on your arm, checking in on his favourite hench human.

"Y'look like you're gonna c- MYAH!" You couldn't help but pull the cat into your arms, your whole body curling around him as you cried softly into the bow on his back. He squirmed around, fighting to face you as he gently held your face in his paws, looking kinda mad. "Who made ya cry, huh?! Tell me and I'll light'em up! Nobody messes with my hench human!"

You couldn't help the half laugh, half sob that left you as you just gently bumped your head against Grim's.

"Nothing you have to worry about Grim...I'm just...um...I'm really glad to have you in my life." You offered him a small smile as he tilted his head, bumping you back softly as his tail swished curiously.

"I..I mean I am too, but that doesn't tell me why you're cryin'!" He rubbed his face against yours again, trying to dry your tears,

"The headmage was gonna try and send me home...but I'm not...I'm not going to do it." Grim looked shocked for a moment, before more aggressively snuggling against you, purring.

"Good...cuz even if you did go home, ya couldn't get rid of me that easily!...I'd come with you!"

You laughed softly, mostly in shock and shook your head. "There's no magic back home...or talking animals...I'm not sure that would be the best idea."

He looked sad for a moment, curling up in your hold more so you wouldn't see his face. "Yeah but...you're all I got...so anywhere you go, I'll go...no matter what.

-------------------------------------------------------- I hated this the longer I wrote it but it wasn't until I was like at Vil that I started to get unhappy so I decided to say fuck it and just stick to it anyways. Yes I've been procrastinating hw shut up. Love you.

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authorhjk1 · 3 months

Text

Dea Romana

(Minatozaki Sana X Male Reader)

(Author's note:

Hi everyone! Thank you for patiently waiting for me! I'm done with writing my exams now, so I will be able to write more again until Juli. Since I like history a lot, the beginning got a bit longer than originally planned, but I hope you will be able to enjoy it nonetheless. I tried to make everything as historically accurate as possible, but please don't expect everything to be true.

Stay healthy! I will do my best to upload the next piece as soon as possible!)

Every muscle feels like it's burning. Your legs and arms feel heavy. Your feet barely lift off the uneven ground with every step you take.

Dried blood stains your face. Your armour doesn't look much better. The shield you are holding, has a big dent in it. The javelin in your right hand feels like it's made out of steel. The chainmail on your chest weighs heavier than usual.

"Marius!"

Your second in command shouts at you from the back.

"The women need a break!"

You sigh in annoyance. It's bad enough that you almost got your whole century killed. Now you have to delay your reunion with the rest of the legion because of those Gaul captives.

"We will take a short break."

You announce to your eighty legionaries and the twenty rebels you captured.

Spotting a small stream near by, you walk closer, while most of the soldiers sit on the ground, some are standing guard.

Taking off your helmet, you start to wash your face. The dried blood sticks to your skin. After some effort, you are just a little bit cleaner.

Another sigh leaves your lips as you kneel in place. In front of the small stream, your century in the back, looking into the deep forest.

You have lived a hard life. You were not born a Roman. Not born a free man. But you took your life into your own hands, instead of hoping for the mercy of the gods. Because gods don't have mercy. Only you can change your own destiny.

"Let's keep marching. We are almost there."

You go back to the front of the century, your men following your orders. Most of the Gaul rebels you captured are women and children. Their husbands and fathers killed by your swords and javelins.

Orders are orders. To kill or to be killed. These are the only two principles you live by. At least most of the time.

"Have you heard yet?"

Quintus asks from behind you, catching your attention. You silently wave for him to walk next to you. It's not necessarily the gossip you're interested in, but you did learn that it's important to know what is going on inside your century and the legion itself.

"Aelius fucked up some of his soldiers."

You raise your eyebrow while you keep walking. Nothing new there. Aelius is a spoiled son of a whore. He only became centurion in the tenth, because of his family's status. And he is usually unnecessarily brutal with his century.

"Reason?"

"They ate some of the extra rations we all got a week ago. Aelius said that they are meant for centurions only. Not for legionaries."

You have to stop yourself from spitting onto the muddy path you are walking on.

Aelius paints the perfect picture of the Roman nobility. Rich assholes. Nothing more. Nothing less.

"Did he kill someone again?"

Quintus shakes his head.

"But I heard that the premus pilus had a talk with him."

You let out a dry chuckle.

"All the centurions of the first cohort are the same. Do you really think he got in trouble?"

"No. But I thought you would be interested. It's not like you have very good connections with-"

"Shut it, fool."

It's not really a secret in the tenth legion that you and Aelius are bitter rivals. The two of you are the completely opposite of one another. A rich brat, who is the centurion of the third century in the first cohort. And you. The former slave, who climbed the ranks to be the centurion of the first century in the second cohort.

There aren't many ranks that separate the two of you. But making the jump into the first cohort as a former slave is nearly impossible.

Your century walks in almost complete silence for the next couple of hours. Despite being one of the most feared soldiers in the legion, you can't help but be cautious. In case there are more rebels lurking in the shadows of the large trees.

"Marius!"

The scout you send out to check the path ahead is jogging in your direction.

"We take another short break."

A light murmur of gratitude echoes through the ranks.

You wait for the young man, barely older than a boy, to reach the spot where you are standing.

"Someone seems to be traveling towards the camp. Our paths are going to cross, once we reach the small clearing ahead."

"Do you know who it is?"

"It looked like a person from the nobility. There was a carriage. And a couple of men with spears. Probably guards."

"We can't be too cautious. Titus!"

You shout for your second in command to walk to the front.

"Take your contubernia and make fast pace. I want to make sure that everything is going according to regulations."

"Yes, Marius."

The rest of the century starts marching at normal pace again, while the eight men rush ahead. The scout leading them towards the small crossroads.

"You know what's going on?"

You shake your head at Quintus' question.

"Might be a politician from Rome. Or a nobleman's wife."

"You know that that's against the law."

Of course everyone knows. It's illegal for a legionary to be married. And yet, some centurions always think that they are above the rest of the legion, when it comes to this kind of rules.

"What is the meaning of this?!"

An angry shout echoes around the forest, just as you and your men reach the small clearing.

The scout was right. A carriage, pulled by two grays, accompanied by a handful of men, armed with spears, and some servants.

An older woman is standing in front of the carriage's door, screaming at the poor Titus. Glancing over his shoulder, your optio rolls his eyes.

"Woman. Don't scream at a Roman legionary."

You make your presence known as you keep walking towards the middle of the clearing.

The servant, probably around forty to fifty years of age, looks at you with anger in her eyes.

"Do you even know, whom you are holding up?!"

"No."

You state bluntly, finally standing in front of her. Behind you, you can hear your men take their positions. Not to threaten the travelers, but to guard the area.

"Well, she is one of the most prestigious women in all of Rome."

"And what is a woman like her doing so far away from the city?"

"Visiting her husband."

You click your tongue. As far as you know, none of the centurions in the first cohort have wives. Which means, she must be the woman of a centurion, who ranks lower than you.

A smirk, which you can't suppress, plays around your lips. How are you able to enjoy a higher position than a noble in this republic?

You walk off without another word, leaving Titus in charge. There is no need to bother with this stuff. Some of the Gaul rebels fell a little behind earlier. You have to check on them. In case they are sick or badly injured.

"Her name?"

You hear Titus ask, before the woman let's out an exaggerated gasp.

"Sana Lucii."

You groan in annoyance. By Jupiter. Is this really his wife? Lucius Aelius? Just when you thought, you couldn't hate that man even more.

You despise men, who don't follow the law and rules of the republic and the legion. Of course, sometimes you can define them a little different for your own gains, but this is just breaking them.

Trying to stay calm, your fingers tap the pommel of your gladius. You don't hear a response from Titus. He must know which Lucius the old woman ment.

"Marius?"

He finally makes you turn around.

You walk back up towards the carriage, just as the door opens.

"By Bellona! What is taking so long!"

You have to say, you are amused by the woman's expression. You didn't expect her to call out for the goddess of war.

"Just doing our duty, lady."

Titus answers politely, although you know how hard it is for him to not lash out. He hates Aelius just as much as the next soldier. Especially, since he is your optio.

You are stunned, once the woman actually shows herself. Her beautiful face is slightly twisted with annoyance. Although, you would be sure that she could look like Venus herself, when she smiles.

She is wearing a turquoise stola, which also covers her brown hair. The thin material enables you to have a look at her white tunic underneath. Her skin looks flawless and pure. A golden necklace adorns her neck and collarbone. It's probably worth more than a whole year of your salary.

An image of a goddess.

"I hope we can speed up this process. I'm supposed to be by my husband's side."

Lucky bastard.

"Please. Speak respectfully with my legionaries."

Her gaze meets yours. You can feel your heart skipping a beat. Not one woman has looked as pretty as she does. Not one.

"Who are you to lecture me on speaking?"

"Salve."

Your fist meats the blood stained chainmail on your chest.

Maybe, if you behave respectfully, so does she. The army is for her protection after all.

"My name is Marius. And-"

"What's your first name, centurion?"

A cute smile suddenly plays around her lips. Maybe this will get her out of here faster.

"Gaius."

"I see, Gaius. I'm sure you have more important things to do than stop me from traveling further? My husband must be waiting for me."

If she didn't know better, Sana could swear that she caught a glint of hate in your eyes.

"This is protocol. We have to check on everyone, who approaches the camp."

"I'm a noble woman. Can't you make an exception for me?'

You don't fall for her sweet smile. You are on duty. Not even Venus herself could distract you. Well, maybe a little bit.

"Your choice. Here, or at the gate in front of even more legionaries. Like everyone else."

That last part makes her glare at you. You won this round.

Not waiting for a response, you gesture for your men to search the woman's belongings. Your Imperial legate has more than enough enemies in Rome to be cautious of. And you don't want him to end up dead inside his own camp. Even if she is allegedly Aelius' wife.

Quintus nods in your direction after going through her belongings, signaling that everything is alright.

"We will accompany you on your way to the camp. We are on our way back, anyway."

You turn around without looking at Sana again. A signal for your men to get into formation.

It feels like she stares at your back for a second longer, before you hear the door close behind you. You don't like the Roman nobility. At all. There is only one man you are willing to follow.

After two more hours of marching, your century and the noblewoman's entourage finally reach the camp's gate.

"The village, where the senior officers are staying, is right behind the camp. You can't miss it."

The older woman, who screamed at Titus earlier, still looks at you as if she is holding a grudge.

"I hope you enjoy your stay in these wonderful lands, lady."

You raise your voice a little, making sure that Sana can hear you. It drips with sarcasm and you can hear Quintus chuckle behind you.

"Vale."

With a dismissive wave of your hand, you walk past the old servant. Her shock at your rudeness visible on her face.

Already making your way past the guards, you can't hear Sana's scoff.

Who are you to talk to her like that? If she is gonna tell her husband about this, you are going to be in trouble for sure.

Sana will never be able to get used to this. She was able to decide that, immediately after she stepped out of her carriage. It took her only a couple of steps to enter the small house her husband is living in right now. But that was enough for her already.

Nothing here looks like Rome. Even the legionaries look out of place. And their shouts and the sounds of shields and stuff isn't what she hears when she is home. Sana is already missing the comfortable house with the atrium. She likes to bathe in the sun throughout the day, while sipping on a really good wine.

"You're late."

Lucius doesn't even look up from his small table as he hears his wife coming in.

"That's how you great me after a year?"

"You know how I value punctuality."

"Out of my hands. Some centurion insisted on searching my luggage. He was really rude."

Now Lucius is looking at her. Sana knows that he can't stand someone disrespecting him. And when she gets disrespected, it goes deeper. He is affected as well.

"Who?"

She can see his eyes becoming a little darker. He bites his lip, maybe trying to prevent himself from shouting.

"His name is Garius Marius. I think?"

"That son of a whore. How does a slave dare to stop you?"

Now, Sana feels shame run down her spine. If she knew that he was born a slave, she would've hit him for talking to her like that. No matter his rank, he is and will always be beneath her. Once a slave, always a slave.

"I swear to Jupiter. One day in battle, I will..."

Lucius takes a deep breath, before focusing back on his wife.

"We are eating dinner with the Imperial legate, the leader of these legions tomorrow, and the senior generals. I expect you to impress them."

"I'd be happy to, love."

Sana almost spits out that last word, but Lucius doesn't seem to notice. He sits back down, opening an envelope. She can see how his eyebrows are still furrowed. He won't let this incident pass without consequences.

Sana eventually leaves the house to explore the small town and it's market. Despite being married to Lucius, she can't stay around him for too long. She is only his wife, because of his money and connections. As soon as she can find someone better...

Sana feels a little dizzy as she steps out of the big house. Lucius told her to be on her best behavior. But that idiot was behaving the worst throughout the dinner.

She hated how calm and reserved the other centurion was, the man who stopped her. He was the lowest ranking soldier and yet, everyone listened to his advice and thoughts about future and past battles. And how is he on a first name basis with the imperial legate? And why is Lucius too incapable to enjoy the same treatment? How can he do worse than a slave?

Sana holds onto the wall, standing right next to the entrance. Suddenly, two men walk out the door. They don't see her because it's dark. She tries to find out who they are. The first one is a little taller, while the second has broader shoulders and looks more muscular.

"We can't do this forever, Gaius. We need a plan to wipe him out. I expect you to help me with that."

"Of course, Gaius."

Sana almost groans in annoyance. Of course it's that Gaius Marius. And the other one is the Imperial legate. Gaius Julius Caesar.

"Rome is an empire. We will defeat Vercingetorix sooner rather than later. His supporters will crumble soon."

"You did a good job today, centurion. You've proven once again, why you rightfully carry the name I gave you. Gaius Marius Antonius."

Sana assumes they are talking about some barbarian leader. But Caesar gave him that cognomen? She can't help but wonder what he must've done to be called "priceless".

"You know the political situation in Rome. The more time I waste conquering Gaul, the more powerful my enemies become."

"I swear to Mars. I will cut down anyone who tries to oppose you, Gaius."

She sees Caesar put a hand on the centurion's shoulder.

"It's only a matter of time, until you will be one of the Tribuni angusticlavii, leading the tenth legion into battle. And I will make sure, you will eventually become a rich senator."

Sana has heard enough. It's so disgusting to her. A slave becoming a senator. She is working so hard to become the most powerful woman in Rome. And with that in the whole empire. How can that lowlife become something better than she herself? Sana either needs to push Lucius further up the ranks, or she needs to find someone, who can match Marius' new found status.

Sana groans in relief, when she can finally leave the small village. It's not like someone forbid her to leave, but there just wasn't something to do in and outside the village. What was she gonna do in a forest? A very dangerous one at that?

But now, she heard of a big market place around two hours away. Sana is still looking to buy some oils and pottery. She could do that in Rome of course, but she is hoping to find them cheaper in their land of origin.

Looking out of her carriage, Sana leaves behind the village and the big camp right next to it. The constant noise made her head spin. Not that Rome isn't loud, but this is something else.

After about an hour, Sana hears a troop of men marching in front of her. She became familiar with that sound after a few days. She doesn't look outside, despite being curious. Why would a century be here? The battles would take place in the opposite direction. Right?

Sana hears how the carriage passes the back of the century. The heavy steps of the legionaries kick up some dust. Her old servant looks outside, curious herself.

"It's him again."

The older woman grimaces, before letting the curtain drop back into place.

"Who?"

"The man who stopped us a couple of days ago."

Sana's attention is now on the men outside. She remembers the conversation you had with Caesar.

"Really?"

She pretends to be cold, not wanting to get caught. After having seen you around a couple of times, the young noble woman is unsure on how to feel about you.

Yes, you are a former slave. A peasant. But you are also a great centurion. A trusted man to Julius Caesar.

Despite being not the highest ranking officer, Sana did notice how the other men look at you. She catches an occasional whisper of your brave actions in battle. She sees the men greet you with almost too much respect. Even the other centurions seem to want to be on your good side.

Maybe that's what Sana has to do too. In order to further climb up the ladder. It is risky. And it's still a long time in the future. But if Caesar can really make his ambitions reality, you will be one of the first people who benefit from it. And if Sana plays her cards well, she can benefit too.

For a moment, she wonders what a man like you would need. Something she could have to bargain with. Money? You probably earn quite a lot already. Especially compared to your earlier environment. Land? You will get that too, if you stay long enough in the army. A wife? You are a soldier. You are not allowed to be married.

As Sana is still pondering on what to do to convince you to help her gain more power, she gets closer towards the front of the century.

And it's not like she doesn't have influence. She could maybe even get you a promotion into the first cohort. Of course without her husband finding out.

Sana draws back the curtain a little with only one finger. Just a few meters ahead, she can see you walking.

Your helmet is decorated by a big crest of red horse hair. The back of the helmet and the rest of your armor shimmer in the light of the sun. She remembers your first encounter. Your armor was full with blood, indicating that you were more than able to fight a battle.

You turn around as you hear horses behind you. It wouldn't have been a surprise. One of the auxilia officers could be taking his men out to train.

Surprised at the sight of the carriage, you catch a glimpse of the passenger. Her eyes meet yours, a big golden ring decorates the finger that holds back the curtain. You could swear you see a small hint of a smile play around her lips.

"Salve."

You great her by hitting your armored chest with your fist. Not because you like her, but out of politeness.

"Salve, centurion."

Her passive aggressive mentioning of your rank indicates that she is still not over that incident a couple of days ago.

"Are you visiting the market?"

"I am. I suppose you are not here to buy pottery?"

A mocking smile replaces the earlier one.

"It may sound unbelievable, but I'm not."

A cute chuckle escapes her mouth.

"Well, I hope you enjoy this beautiful day."

Is she still mocking you, because you are on duty? You are not sure, but you can see her lazily wave goodbye as the carriage drives past you.

"Don't get too close to her. She is only gonna be trouble."

You look at Quintus.

"I'm merely being polite. I don't need trouble with angry nobles. At least not now."

"By Jupiter. One might think you've become a responsible, grown man now."

"Fuck off."

You raise your hand, but Quintus ducks away, avoiding a potential slap.

Only listening with one ear to the conversation next to you, you scan the market for the young noble woman. Despite her attitude and the fact that she is married, you can't help but glance at her occasionally. Plus, the market isn't as safe as it might seem. Cunning merchants, thiefs and rebels might roam the place, ready to strike at any moment. And being a beautiful Roman woman makes her one of the most desirable targets right now.

"Listen, Roman! I barely sell anything! How do you expect me to pay your unreasonable taxes?!"

"Shut it."

You turn back to the stall holder. Titus' and his conversation got heated.

"We are not hear to argue. We are here to collect taxes."

The man grits his teeth.

"I'm telling you! I don't have anything to give away!"

The other people around you look at the scene, before walking past. Only you and a couple of legionaries are here. The rest of your century is patrolling another village nearby and the rest of the market, making sure you are not getting ambushed.

"Don't scream at me, old man. Pay up."

"I don't have a fucking coin!"

You know he is lying. You saw someone buy his fabric from a far as you entered the marketplace. And, judging by the money bag he held earlier, it wasn't cheap at all.

"We can do this the easy way, or the heard way."

You take a step forward, towering above him.

"But the hard way won't end well for you."

"I already told you, I-"

You let your head fall back in annoyance. Collecting taxes is a necessity. Not something to be proud of. It's not as honorable as fighting in battle.

"Do you really want to go this far?"

You look down at him again, your hand now resting on the pommel of your gladius.

He caught the movement of your hand, worry creeping onto his features.

"What is it gonna be? Your life? Or coin?"

The old man is not stupid. And a couple of moments later, you walk away from his stall. The tinkle behind you indicates, that Titus is adding the silver denarii into the bag with the rest of the already collected money.

"Are you trying to rob me, old man? You are a con artist!"

Women screaming at a merchant are as common as clouds under the sky, so you don't pay much attention to it as you hear someone scream.

"How can you demand so much for this lousy work?"

You keep walking, although you kinda feel, like you heard this voice before. It sounds oddly familiar.

"By Bellona! I'm going to have you beaten for your rudeness!"

And there it is. With an annoyed groan, you immediately recognize, who is disturbing the rather peaceful market.

If she was a common local woman, you would've kept walking. The Galli could solve their own disputes.

But Sana is, as unfortunate as it is, not a local. She is a Roman woman. A member of the elite even.

You take a deep breath, before walking towards her screams. You can already guess whom she is screaming at.

"Keep going."

You tell Titus over your shoulder, as you approach her from behind. Her servant must have stayed with the carriage, because Sana is standing in front of the stall of the potter all alone.

Before the young woman can scream another word, you grab her arm.

"What-"

You spin her around and walk away, pulling her with you.

"What do you think you are doing?!"

"Silence."

You didn't say it in a loud voice, but your tone makes her go silent.

After a couple of meters, you stop, turning around to look at her.

"You're welcome."

"Excuse you?"

Her hands now rest on her hips. You can't help but catch how slender her waist seems to be.

"I just saved you from embarrassing yourself even further. You owe me."

You turn away, ready to reunite with Titus and your men.

"What the-"

It's now Sana's turn to grab your arm, stopping you from leaving.

"I don't owe you shit."

"Really?"

You turn to look at her again.

"Your temper is as bad as your observation skills. Minerva would strike you down for your utter incompetence."

You said the words, before you thought about them. You are aggravated. Because of the merchant earlier, because of her causing a scene, because of Lucius (as always) and because of her being his wife. Alright, maybe that last one was a little jealousy.

"How dare you? You are some rude-"

You stop her from saying another word by grabbing her shoulders and spinning her around.

"Look. Look and tell me what you see."

"What are you talking about?"

You see her frowning. An act that makes her beautiful face a little less flawless.

"Tell me what's going on."

You realize you are using the same tone as with the men during training. Harsh, straight forward, a little condescending. But not rude. Just factual.

"The merchant is still selling his stupidly expensive pottery."

You don't answer, waiting for more.

Sana, visibly annoyed, struggles against your grip for a moment, before giving in. You are a seasoned legionnaire. There is no way she is gonna get out of your hold on her.

"There are a couple of women and men who browse his items."

"Keep going."

"Someone is buying a bowl and an amphora."

"What is the woman on the right doing?"

"She is paying for her stuff. What-"

"Can you see how much she is paying?"

"Way too much for a stupid-"

"Do you see any of the locals complaining?"

Sana hesitantly shakes her head.

"Do you know the reason?"

"Because they are stupid. In Rome it's cheap-"

"We aren't in Rome, woman. This is Gaul."

You stand behind her, both of you silent for a couple of moments. You give her time to think about the possible reason. Although she is probably just complaining about you to the gods in silence.

"They all pay the price he demands, because he and his work are respected here."

"But they look-"

"Yeah. Some of his pieces aren't pretty."

You admit that.

"But he is an old man. His hands aren't as good as they used to be. He is obviously regarded with a decent amount of respect."

You gesture for Sana to look around the market.

"Most of the people here bargain over every single item. Food, cloth, tools and even pottery."

You turn her back towards the old man's stall.

"But not there. They respect him too much to try to get a better price. His work might not be the very best anymore, but his skill is known by everyone here."

Sana groans in annoyance and anger as she sees you coming out of the biggest tent of the camp. A week has gone by, since you treated her like a child at the market. Her blood still boils, whenever she sees you from a far.

She decided against telling her husband, not wanting to cause unnecessary friction. And if you have the favor of Caesar, it might be a bad idea to egg on her husband.

And Sana is still debating on your ability to help her seize more power. She is ready to do anything to get to the top. Even if it means working together with someone as low born as you.

Sana stops in her tracks as she sees her husband walk towards you.

"Aelius."

You don't greet him like any other lower ranking centurion would. The young woman can feel the tension between the two men, despite standing barely in earshot.

"Marius."

His face shows a disapproving twitch.

"It seems like we are catching up to Vercingetorix. I hope you don't make any mistakes in battle. I would hate to lose a lower ranking officer."

You click your tongue, taking a step forward.

With the two of you standing right in front of each other, Sana realizes that you are bigger than her husband. Not just in statue, but also in the way you carry yourself. With slightly less arrogance and more discipline.

"Don't worry about me, Aelius. As you know, I always make sure my men are taken care off."

Sana feels a shiver run down her spine. She heard more than enough stories about the battles of the tenth legion since she joined her husband. The amount of times that you were mentioned in one of them was noticeably high.

The young woman heard of a battle two summers ago. You weren't a centurion at the time. Merely a soldier of the second cohort. But in battle, your centurion chose to let his men die, while he stayed behind, watching his century getting slaughtered. After half of the eighty men were dead, you walked straight towards the cowardly centurion. A nobleman, which the storyteller didn't fail to mention with a hint of disgust. Your gladius seperated his head from his shoulders in one swift motion and you took command of the second century until the end of the battle. Caesar honored your bravery and agreed with your actions. Instead of getting executed, you got promoted.

"Are you implying I'm not leading my men well?"

Sana hears you chuckle.

"News travel fast among the younger men, Aelius."

"Maybe you should discipline your soldiers like I do. Your century is a disgrace to the tenth legion."

"Nugas garris. You are pathetic."

You walk off, leaving him behind.

Sana almost expects her husband to draw his gladius. How can you call him a disgrace? And idiot? He is higher ranking than you and he is a member of the elite.

But Aelius just watches you leave, before entering the tent you just came out of.

That short interaction reminds Sana of the power you actually hold. You might not be the highest officer, but almost the whole legion treats you as such. If it wasn't for your low birth, you might have been able to be the centurion of the first century of the first cohort.

Sana's decision is slowly forming in her mind. A plan to gain more power than she has right now. Siding with you might be risky. But the rewards could be great.

Sana glances at you from across the room as you stare at Caesar, who is currently talking. She is still not quite sure what she can offer you to make you join her side. But when the leader of the legion mentions the nobility in his speech, she sees your expression change for just a second. It is obvious that you hate all the wealthy and arrogant men and women. Maybe Sana can offer you something to get back at them. Or at least get back at Aelius.

"And that's why the tenth legion outshines any other. Your bravery and honor are praised throughout the whole empire. Rome is grateful for what you have done. And the gods smile down at the men, who give their lifes to the republic."

Caesar ends his speech. And with that, the long meal is finally over. It is night time already. Only the moon and the stars still shine.

You walk out of the large tent, ready to sleep. It has been a long day and there is no doubt that you will be fighting soon. Caesar's promise to promote you to such a high position still rings in your ears. You can't believe you've come this far.

"Gaius."

Her sweet voice makes you stop in front of your tent. She doesn't sound as angry as she usually does.

"Yes?"

You turn around, standing face to face with Sana.

"I'm here to ask you for something."

You look at her, waiting for an explanation.

"I heard that you are the bravest and most powerful man in this legion. At least unofficially."

You raise an eyebrow.

"Where is all of this honey suddenly coming from?"

Sana gives you a melodic chuckle. Only now do you realize how close she is standing. Her oils make you breath in the flowery air that surrounds her.

"I want to strike a deal with you."

"What would you want from such a low ranking officer like me?"

Your sarcasm makes it hard for Sana to not lash out. Just because she needs you, doesn't mean that she likes you.

"As far as I've heard, you won't be a low ranking officer for long."

"Is that so?"

You cross your arms in front of your chest.

"Well, it's actually quite simple. You have something I want. And I have something you want."

"I highly doubt that."

You watch Sana turn her head left and right, making sure that no one is around.

"There is a always something a man wants from a woman."

You are surprised at what she is suggesting.

"Judging by the look on your face, I can comfortably say that I'm right."

You shake your head, which seems harder than usual.

"Have you never thought about having your way with me? A noble woman?"

She takes another step closer. Now, Sana's sandals are touching yours.

"A married one at that? I bet you would love to destroy my husband. This could be your first step to success."

You narrow your eyes, still unsure of what to do. You've never been in this kind of situation. Is she making fun of you? Did Aelius put her up to this, setting a trap for you? Or is she genuine?

"What would you get in return?"

"Your power. Your influence. I can't live, knowing that another person might have more power than I do. I need to be at the top of the republic."

"And you think, I can get you there?"

Sana nods.

"With my support? Definitely."

She looks at you, waiting for a response.

You are still torn. She has a nice body, yes. But you're not fond of her attitude. She is a noble woman. And she is married. Getting caught would have serious consequences. For the both of you.

But the chance to use her? A noble woman? Fucking her, while her husband is only sleeping a couple of tents away? More than just tempting.

You look around the camp yourself. No one in sight.

"Get in."

A victorious smile forms on her lips. As she walks past you, she lets her finger glide over your armoured chest.

You follow her immediately after.

"Now that we have come to an agreement, I-"

You push Sana forward, bending her over the wooden table.

"What-"

You don't give her time to speak. If you're going to do this, you're going to do this quickly.

Hiking up her red stola, you reach underneath her tunic. The smoothness of her legs makes you hard as you reach between them.

"It seems like you are enjoying this more than I expected."

Your fingers graze her lower lips. She is not just a little wet.

"Hey, I didn't give you permission to-"

You shut Sana up by covering her mouth with your other hand.

"I don't need you permission. I'm going to ruin you anyway."

Her gasp is muffled by your hand as you push your first finger inside.

You haven't slept with a lot of women, the army being mainly responsible for that. Nonetheless, you do know how to pleasure a woman.

Sana's moan escapes between your fingers as your digits slide along her wet walls. Her pussy is already gripping them tightly.

If it weren't for your hand, her head would've sunk onto the table already. But you are holding her in place, which ultimately makes her arch her back.

She tries to say something, but your grip on her mouth makes it impossible for her to speak properly.

You are surprised at how wet Sana is.

"Was your desire for power just an excuse? Do you just want me to fuck you?"

She tries to shake her head. You don't let her.

"Do you get off, knowing that a lower born man is fucking you?"

Sana is unable to respond, when you let go off her face. Her whole upper body is now lying on top of the table. You drop your belt and hike her clothes up a little further.

"Don't get confused. I still don't like you."

Sana's growl doesn't sound very convincing with your fingers inside of her.

"Might be true. But you aren't married to Aelius because of his personality anyways."

Pulling your fingers out of her core makes Sana moan loudly. She blushes in shame. Doubt starting to rise inside of her. Is she really only doing this to team up with you?

"You only seem to care for power."

"So? Only a coward wouldn't want power."

You shut her up by letting your tip graze against her lips. Sana hisses through her teeth, unwilling to moan again.

"I'm just curious about how far you would be willing to go. How dedicated you are to this cause."

"Don't worry. I'm ready to do anything."

"Anything?"

You raise an eyebrow, which Sana can't see.

"Anything."

"That's reassuring."

Your nonchalant tone makes Sana shiver.

Finally, you push inside of her.

"Fuck, woman."

You can't help but marvel at how tight she actually is.

"Fuck me already."

It's a mixture of plea and demand.

With one hand you grab her hair, pushing her cheek against the wooden surface. Your other hand holds her waist.

Another moan escapes Sana's lips as you thrust forward. Before she can react, you pull back and push inside of her again.

After just a couple of seconds, you start to fuck her hard. The table rocks back and forth with every thrust. Her moans escape her lips, whenever you bottom out inside of her.

"Harder!"

Sana holds onto the edge of the table, her knuckles slowly starting to turn white.

Because you keep pushing her upwards with your thrusts, the young woman's feet eventually dangle in the air.

You are now able to fuck her even deeper. Her moans become louder when she feels your cock invading her pussy even further.

At this point, Sana is merely a hole for you to fuck. She doesn't move. Only your thrusts rock her body back and forth. The thin material of her clothes makes Sana's nipples rub against the wooden surface. They've become hard due to her arousal and are now adding to the pleasure she is already feeling.

"So good!"

She moans yet again. You suddenly realize, that this isn't really a save place to be this loud.

"Shut up."

You growl into her ear, trying to quiet her.

But Sana can't help it. She has already lost control over her body. Your cock is parting her walls again and again, making her clench around it tightly.

She is even unable to produce a disappointed whine, when you stop fucking her. You leaver her snug pussy, before getting her off your table.

Turning her around, you push Sana against the wooden post, which is holding up the roof of your tent. Reaching for your belt, you hold her arms up, before tying them together.

Sana is now unable to leave. You pick up her light frame, making her impale herself on your cock.

"By Bellona! Fuck!"

"I told you to stay quiet."

Your faces are barely an inch apart.

Because you push her body against the post, you are able to lift her up with only your left hand. Your right one moves upwards to wrap its fingers around her throat.

"One more word..."

You let the threat of unknown punishment linger in the air for a moment.

But you can't hold yourself back for long. Sana's pussy drips her juices onto your cock, coaxing you into resuming your pounding.

A whimper escapes her mouth, when you start to fuck her again. You can tell she is at least trying to stay quiet this time. While you make her bounce on your cock, you thrust upwards. It makes her eyes roll back, whenever she feels your cock pushing against her guts.

"Venus!"

A louder sigh escapes her mouth yet again. You close your fingers around her throat a little further.

"Behave."

The conflict in Sana's eyes amuses you.

She should be the one in charge. She is the noble one of the two of you after all. But here she is, bound to your post, your hand around her throat as you fuck her as hard as you can.

Sana tries to fight the belt, wanting to tell you that you have to choke her harder. She can't keep quiet when you fuck her like this.

Another moan escapes her lips and you tighten your grip yet again.

"I warned you."

You hiss into her face.

Sana's wide eyes look beautiful. The way she stares at you, begging you to fuck her harder, while she tries her best not to make any noise.

But she fails miserably. A loud sigh echoes through the tent.

Without a word, you reach upwards. The sound of metal on metal cuts through the night as you pull your pugio out of its sheath. You let Sana get a good look at it. Then, you slowly part her lips with its blade.

"If you don't want to hurt your pretty face..."

You don't continue your sentence once more. But Sana is well aware of the risks.

With your dagger in her mouth, Sana has to pull back her lips, while simultaneously biting onto the blade, to make sure it doesn't fall or hurt her.

You see her closing her eyes as you keep fucking her. She is now really quiet, focused on keeping your pugio in place.

"Finally. Your voice so annoying."

Sana blushes in shame, able to see your honesty in your eyes.

"At least you have a nice body. I could fuck you every day."

The young woman almost lets out another moan. She really has to hold herself back. This was the first time someone reduced her to nothing but a wet hole to fuck. She didn't expect it to feel this good.

You suddenly hear footsteps outside. You stop moving, almost making Sana whine in disappointment, but then she hears it too. The two of you hold your breath. Neither of you wanting to get caught.

As the footsteps disappear into the night, you resume your fucking.

You make Sana bounce up and down on your cock. She glides along its full length. Whenever you impale her on it, Sana's eyes shoot wide open. She would scream if it wasn't for the dagger between her teeth.

"I'm gonna cum."

You hiss into her face, unable to hold back longer. Her tight pussy has been working on draining your cock this whole time. It feels perfect, almost too good to pull out. But cuming inside is obviously not an option.

You put Sana back onto her own two feet, taking the knife out of her mouth. Undoing your belt, you free her arms. Sana drops to her knees, opening her mouth. You catch a couple drops of blood on the corners of her mouth, before she wraps her lips around your cock.

Your pugio falls out of your hand and you take a fistful of her beautiful hair. Her eyes look up at you, telling you to finish inside her mouth. Her tongue glides over every inch of your cock it can find, while her lips are tightly sealed around it.

"Sana."

You manage to groan her name, before you unload inside her mouth. You feel dizzy, having to close your eyes for a moment.

When you open them again, you see Sana gulping down your cum.

"How often do we need to do this, so that we have a deal?"

"I think you know the answer."

It's so dark that Sana's face is barely lit by the torch outside. You could swear a small smile plays around her lips though.

#kpop #kpop smut #kpop girls #kpop gg #male reader #twice sana #twice #sana minatozaki #sana twice #sana smut #sana #twice smut

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sytoran · 8 months

Text

𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝟎𝟎𝟐 — 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐉𝐎𝐁

kinktober day 002 | secretary!natalie rushman x ceo!reader

natasha's mission to retrieve a thumbdrive file involves seducing a high-ranking executive, and the seduction goes smoothly. a little too well, in fact, that she doesn't notice you're not all you seem to be.

cont. reader has a cock, power play, begging

word count. 1869

kinktober masterlist || main masterlist

To Natasha, you were nothing more than just another target.

She was an unfathomably, dangerously-skilled assassin, feared across nations and intelligence bureaucracies. She was a Red Room widow gone rogue, taking things in her own stride and shifting the world upside down as she pleased. Renowned political figures and billionaire executives were dropping like flies, and you, were no different.

This time, Natasha Romanoff was going undercover as Natalie Rushman.

It had been embarrassingly easy for her to infiltrate security and create a false persona for herself. Climbing up the ranks of a corporate business like this one had been more time-consuming, sure, spanning over a few months, but Natalie would reap what she sow.

Chief Executive Officer Y/N L/N was all-too-easy to fool, even more gullible than the other targets Natasha had preyed upon.

All it took was the classic seduction: bending over to ‘pick up a pen’, coincidentally right in your field of vision, clinging onto your arm and looking up with wide doe eyes while you talked, giggling shyly when you made a joke and tucking a lock of hair behind her ear.

In the end, all her targets got caught up in the Widow’s Web. You were rendered useless and completely at Natasha’s mercy, waiting to be preyed upon for manipulation and her own personal gain.

Or at least, that’s what you let her think.

“Fuck, baby,” you cursed, eyes screwed shut as your secretary bobbed her head up and down the girthy length of your cock, lewd noises escaping both your lips.

Natalie looked up at you through glossy eyes, bottle-red lipstick smeared but unarguably pretty, batting her eyelashes every so often. It had only taken a week of flirting before you took her home, your actions seemingly foolish.

“Take it all down your throat, Natalie, fuck,” you said breathily, hands tugging onto her hair as you chased your own high. Natasha almost choked on the length in her mouth at the fast pace you had set, but she quickly hollowed out her cheeks to engulf your wet heat once more.

Shit, it had been a while since Natasha had gotten such a thick cock, above average in length, too. Normally, these high-ranking executives had disappointingly miniscule excuses of a member, but this was thrillingly different.

Still, Natasha couldn’t forget why she had made all this effort to get to your house.

“Fuck, babe, you’re too good at this,” you comment breathlessly, chest heaving as you come down from your high. “Bedroom?”

To speed up the process, Natasha finished you off with her hands working on the base of your cock, calculated squeezes and strokes that had you jerking your hips up as you toppled over the edge. Jets of hot white come went down Natasha’s throat, as she greedily sucked and swallowed.

Tastes fucking good too, she thought. Maybe this won’t be so bad.

Natasha had to refrain from rolling her eyes. What you wanted was predictable, to have your cock inside her. She wanted something different, though. It was why she had embarked on this mission in the first place.

“Can we go to your office?” Natasha asks instead, never failing to load up on that sultry tone that had people falling to their knees. She licks her lips drenched in your seed, kissing her way up your unbuttoned shirt as she rises to her feet. Her navigation of your surprisingly well-built body ends at the column of your neck.

Calculatedly, Natasha presses her slick lips to the hot skin of your neck, her residual lipstick making an enviable mark there.

“I want you to bend me over your office desk.”

Natasha can’t help but smirk at your affected reaction. You hastily lift your secretary up by the back of her thighs, letting her hook her legs around your torso. A sloppy kiss kickstarts your burning need to meet her needs.

Of course, the sole reason why Natasha wanted to go to your office was to retrieve a very important thumb drive that was stored there. As you were the CEO of an incredibly powerful corporate firm, being able to have that kind of information meant a wealth of power, influence, and information.

There isn’t a doubt of the sinful possibilities floating through your mind right now, as you single-handedly unclasp her bra and rid of her remaining garments, as you stumble your way over to your office.

Everything was going according to Natasha's plan.

As if on cue, you kick open the door of your office and ungracefully deposit Natasha onto your desk. The way you’re manhandling her is arguably hot, and when you trail kisses down the back of Natasha’s neck, she quite nearly forgets what she came here to do.

“Need you inside me, now,” Natasha growls out, because she needs to get this operation going. What scares her for a moment is that her statement isn’t entirely untrue, because you were evidently more skilled than any of her previous counterparts and she so craved release.

You certainly don’t disappoint in that aspect, forcefully bending Natasha over the desk as she wished, then painstakingly slowly dragging her skirt down with your teeth.

“Fuck,” Natasha doesn’t mean to whimper when your cock slides between her wet folds, collecting slick arousal with that huge shaft, but she does whimper, and you let out a low noise from your chest.

As you’re busy getting your cock lubricated enough to enter her, Natasha seizes this opportune moment of your distraction to slides her hand over the desk to where your laptop was, unplugging the thumbdrive just as you speak up again.

“You’re fucking naughty, hm?” you growl, and Natasha freezes.

The fear envelops her whole, before Natasha realizes that you’ve remained blissfully oblivious to her actions and were trapped in the haze of sex.

“You’re fuckin’ naughty, wanting me to bend you over my table like that. Beg for my cock, and maybe I’ll let you use it.”

Natasha gulps, not understanding why she’s threatening to start drooling onto your desk, her body building up so much slick.

She’s the Black Widow, for fuck’s sakes, and she bowed down to no one. She was in control, dictating the decisions that crafted this very situation, hooking you around her pretty little finger.

After all, she had already retrieved the thumb drive. Her mission was already over, already completed. She had no reason to stay. She could knock you out cold in a matter of mere seconds, so why was she so hesitant?

Your grip hardens at her disobedience, and Natasha can’t help the whine that tumbles out when you pull your cock way from her wet heat.

“You want it, hm? Then beg for it,” you repeat, dangerously close to Natasha’s ear, raising goosebumps with your hot breath brushing the surface of her skin.

Natasha wails when you push her back into the desk, pebbled nipples pressing into the cold glass. She’s clenching around nothing, wet walls fluttering emptily, slick arousal dripping down her thighs.

Suddenly, you bring your hand up and harshly slap Natasha’s ass. The moan she lets out is downright pornographic, high-pitched and long-lasting as a red blush blossoms on her rounded ass, the pain stinging her skin and pricking tears behind her eyes.

It’s been so long, her body screams at her. You need this. Need to be fucked, need to be used.

“Beg for it.”

“Please! Need your cock, please,” Natasha babbles, finally, giving in to your urges. When you thrust your whole length down her tight pussy, all in one go, Natasha almost falls apart instantly.

You thrust up into her, hard, thick length pushing past her slick walls. If Natasha thought you were big before, with your cock in her mouth, now she knew you were fucking huge.

It isn’t long before you’re fucking into her with an animalistic nature, skin slapping against skin with dirty, lewd noises. “Can’t take the size, baby?” you question dryly, pulling on her hair as Natasha drools onto your desk.

Your cock is hitting her cervix with almost every thrust. The pleasure not only stems from the fact that you were the biggest she had ever taken, but also from your sheer skill.

Natasha’s first orgasm of the night comes in a tidal wave. It’s like water breaking through a dam, hitting her with a strength she didn’t know her body possessed. Her walls flutter around your girthy cock as she squirts.

“Oh, Y/N!” Sinful moans of your name fall from Natasha’s lips as you thrust even deeper than she thought imaginable.

In other words, that was only the beginning of the rollercoaster-esque high you would bring Natasha to.

***

Natasha awakes with groggy eyes. There’s a warm, muscled forearm splayed over her torso, and it takes a fraction of a second before Natasha remembers it’s you.

“Shit,” she whispers, looking out of the window at the rising sun. She was supposed to leave your house last night, but the events had gotten more than out of hand.

The ache in Natasha’s legs and back is a blaring reminder of that fact. The image of sweaty, slick bodies moving together in a darkened room flashes across Natasha’s mind, and she has the decency to flush a pink-red.

Checking again for the thumbdrive in her strewn clothes, Natasha nods to herself assuredly and gets herself together to make an exit. Her eyes float to your sleeping figure. Looks like she had worn you out.

“You’re kinda stupid, but you were a good fuck,” she whispers with a tilted head.

As soon as the front door of your house clicks shut, you sit up slowly, letting the blanket slide over your toned abdominal muscles and down to your waistline.

“Just a good fuck?” you ask amusedly. “Squirting three times in a row seems better than good, if I do say so myself.” Relaxed, you reach over to your bedside and take your phone.

Dialling in a number that you’d memorised by heart, the receiver picks up in less than two rings. “You’re fuckin’ late,” a gruff voice sounds out. “What did we tell you about not fucking the targets for the whole bloody night?”

You scoff in half-annoyance and amusement. As long as you got the job done, your bosses didn’t have any reason to question your methods. "You’re just jealous you didn’t get a taste of that sweet pussy,” you drawl out contedly, delighting in the aggravated huff that crackles over the line.

“Don’t get your panties in a twist,” you continue, your face taking on a more serious expression. “The Widow left my house thirty seconds ago, with the false thumb drive."

"Details?"

"Swapped it out while she was cumming on my cock, sir."

"......Microchip tracking device?"

"Implanted in the top button of her blouse."

"Audio recorder?"

"In the hem of her very scandalous skirt.”

There is a pause on the line, but you know not to fear. When a low chuckle is emitted from the other end, you can’t help but smirk in smug satisfaction. The next words you hear are almost as sweet as Natasha’s moans of your name.

"Well done, Agent. Your mission is complete."

if you liked this, please give it a reblog! it means the absolute world to me <3

kinktober masterlist || main masterlist

#sytoran's kinktober 2023 #kinktober #kinktober fic #kinktober 2023 #natasha romanoff x reader smut #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff smut #natalie rushman #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you smut #natasha romanoff x y/n #natasha x reader smut #natasha x reader #wlw smut #gxg smut #sub natasha romanoff #bottom natasha romanoff #top reader #dom reader

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acapelladitty · 1 month

Note

Cooper gives big sub energy if you open your eyes wide enough, don't you think ditty?

A/N: Maybe not sub energy but please enjoy this little thing where Cooper is forced to eat his partner out for being an ass. (1.7k words)

(tw: face sitting, orgasm, oral sex, dirty talk, threat of violence, biting, come marking, playful snark, mild violence)

Call Out Loud For You

Link to AO3 series

Fic Masterlist

Standing at the foot of the large cot which you had both decided to claim as 'home' for the night, your hands felt heavy on your hip as you held your ground against the smug ghoul who lounged against the threadbare sheets.

It had been a rough day. A bounty hunt very quickly went sideways as an isolated raider turned out to be very non-isolated indeed. And his friends weren't willing to give him up without a fight. But, as always, when the dripping blood finally settled and the missing limbs had been counted, it was Cooper and yourself who emerged the victors.

But still.

He had been a prick about it.

"Apologise." You demanded, wounded pride making you determined to get at least that out of him.

Sucking his lips in to unleash a short whistle, Cooper was unrepentant.

"Ain't got nothing to apologise for, so I won't be wasting the words."

His arm is raised overhead, nude body laying out utterly shameless and reddened against the pale sheets. A rogue chain had caught him across the outer thigh and the marks there would take days to heal. Your efforts to help with the injury had been swiftly rebuffed as he realised you were still looking for an apology and he had instead elected to strip off and drop to the cot, claiming it as his own.

For someone who was so vilified and hated due to his appearance, it sure didn't seem to bother him when it suited his mood.

Deprived of your own clothes due to the sweltering heat of the approaching night, you stood before him with equal pride - refusing to back down.

He knew he was in the wrong.

Those little affectionate brushes against your back and casual grabs at your body that had punctuated throughout the day after the doomed raid had screamed his unspoken guilt. But his stubbornness was maddening.

As was how horny his little games had made you.

Fuck it.

You were getting yours, one way or another.

"You always told me that the only thing we get in the world is what we're willing to take."

Proclaiming the sage words from a scowling face, you throw the advice back at him like a horse kicking up dirt.

"That I did."

"Then lie your stupid ass flat out on that cot. Arms by your sides and legs straightened out."

Surprise crosses his face for only a moment before being swiped away by something lecherous as his right hand drops to cup at his cock, the thick length laying half-hard against his upper thigh.

"I don't see how riding this old stallion is going to get your point across but I ain't complaining."

Shaking your head as you climb into the cot, your body slithers up his own like a serpent coiling in the desert heat until you can straddle his waist - making a point to ignore his cock as you sit above it.

"I'm gonna sit on your face and you're gonna eat me out until I forget that I'm mad at you. You're going to treat my cunt like it's your last supper before they execute your stubborn ass."

Narrowing his brow, the missing hole where his nose should be flaring as he inhaled, Cooper shook his head with a somewhat playful defiance; most of his fire having been extinguished by your soft body atop his as his hands immediately flew to your hips and groped at the flesh there.

"The hell I am. That sounds like a sorry to me, darli-"

Your hand makes a resounding crack as it collides with his hollowed cheek. On a regular man, it would leave a livid mark, but on Cooper - his skin already a darker shade than anything you could accomplish - it is truly undetectable.

What is slightly more detectable is the sly smirk which curls at the corners of his ragged lips and the way his pupils seem to dilate as he inhales sharply once more.

"Oh, it's like that is it."

"Damn right." Running your thumb across the ridge of his cheek, neatly atop the area which you had just slapped, you enjoy the rough sensation of his skin against your own as his hands increase their grip of you. "And if I hear any more backtalk then I'll just smother you. End of all my problems."

A thoughtful hum rumbles past his throat, and you feel it through your palm as you spread your fingers across his chest.

"Not the worst way I've died." Cooper admits. "Alright, darlin', hop on. But don't say I didn't warn you."

Shuffling forward, your inner thighs burn as they swipe across his collarbone in their efforts to position yourself so that his face - eyes burning in the shadows of their sockets - was in a prime position to service your eager sex.

"Might be the last meal you get, handsome." Sighing out the words, you spread your knees wide as you take the time to ensure your own comfort. "So don't waste it."

His response is too low for you to pick up properly, the syllables more a growl than anything else, but you can hear the bitchy quality to his tone as he dutifully pushes his mouth up to brush along your cunt.

He immediately sets out to punish you for that earlier slap, sucking at your folds with his lips and teasing the skin with blunted teeth. It's a lot and your fingers curl against the wall which the head of the cot sits against as you resist the urge to press down harshly on his face.

He seems to be enjoying himself though, his tongue licking a sordid line from your hole to your clit in one solid stripe.

"Fuck, Cooper-" You whine, legs tightening around his shoulders as his tongue grazes your clit; a sensation which sends lightning up your spine as your body tenses involuntarily.

Knowing he hit a good spot, he repeats the feat. His roughened lips add a cruel intensity to his movements as he suckles at your most sensitive nerves. It's hot and intense and too fucking much-

Grinding your cunt down onto his face, you momentarily mourn his lack of nose as an amusing image of being able to swipe yourself across it for extra stimulation flits through your mind.

His tongue would do though and you press your cunt against his mouth with vigour, forcing him to abandon your clit and refocus his attention on your hole. You're already painfully wet, his tongue lapping up more moisture than it was providing, and you feel him growl against your sex as he tastes you properly.

A vicious cry slips free of your throat as he disobeys your earlier demands and his calloused hands wrap around your inner thighs, pulling your lips apart to allow him easier access to his apology. His skin is hot as hell, the leathered texture as delightful as ever as his mouth messily latches on to your skin - sucking, biting, licking, and teasing every possible inch of you until your words are broken and incomprehensible.

A sharp pain makes you cry out and you feel the full ache of a bite radiating from your inner thigh, the skin unbroken but no doubt soon to bruise due to the hard treatment. The dual sensation makes your head swim as the pressure of arousal builds in your cunt.

Discomfort and pleasure.

Ecstacy and pain.

Pure Cooper in his most concentrated form.

Nearing completion, you can't help the bucking of your hips as he struggles to hold you into place - your cunt grinding on his mouth and chin as you chase that high.

"Fuck, Cooper. Just so- so fucking good. Need to do this- FUCK- do this more. Put that mouth to good, ugh, use."

It's a babble and a mess. Words stuttering and pitching as his lips find your clit once more and his tongue flicks against the engorged nub, sending you careening over the edge of the abyss.

Hands scrambling against the wall as your orgasm hits, the hot pleasure cascades through your body in waves - tensing and relaxing your frame in sync as you press down on his face. Without much choice, he swallows everything, his busy tongue refusing to let up its devouring of your cunt as your thighs clench around his skull.

Earlier musings blown to the side, you take a moment to appreciate that his nose was missing as your frantic jerking across his face would have probably broken it in several places. You ride your orgasm out against him, allowing him time to breathe when he earns it as his face skilfully tilts to the side to pull in sharp intakes of air.

Eventually the tension in your legs dies out and your cunt grows too overstimulated to be fully enjoyable and you push your hands off the wall, forcing your cum-soaked thighs to slip along his chest once more as you collapse to the side of him.

His face is a sight. The raw-looking skin glistened in the low light as his mouth and chin remain covered by your mess. His eyes were bright, piercing through your relaxed features as you wrap your leg around his own - marvelling at the temperature difference.

"Not bad, old timer."

Blissed out by his efforts, your attitude was much more amicable and to show your forgiveness, you lazily grip at his cock; the length rock hard and visible leaking pre-cum due to his own untouched arousal.

Deciding that maybe he did deserve a treat as he wiped off his mouth with the back of his scarred hand - bringing the collected mess to his mouth for a final taste - you run the pad of your thumb across the flared head of his livid cock in a playful tease.

"Let's see if we can do something about this little problem here."

"Little?"

Cooper's voice came roughly, his own aggression mellowed out by how visibly pleased you were with his efforts.

Still, he couldn't resist the bait.

"Not that little, I gotta say." You reply. "In fact, maybe I should return the favour and-"

Trailing off, you wetten your lips with your tongue and make a lurid sucking noise, something obscene and nasty, as your thighs press together gently.

It's not really that much of a surprise when his hand moves like lightning, snaring around your neck and pushing your head towards his cock while a faint yet familiar smirk sits on the corners of his lips.

It was your turn after all.

#amazon fallout #fallout #fallout 2024 #cooper howard #the ghoul #cooper howard x reader #the ghoul x reader #cooper howard x you #the ghoul x you #fallout smut #ghoul smut #cooper howard smut #walton goggins #fallout tv #fallout prime

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lialacleaf · 10 months

Text

To Care For A Woman

Chapter 1

Simon Riley x Reader

Summary: You join the army as a last-ditch effort to avoid destitution, but when you sustain an injury protecting Lieutenant Ghost and earn yourself a medical discharge, you're stuck all over again. Or maybe not... Warnings: Tension, Simon wants to care for you, small reader, a little bit spicy but not NSFW, man worrying about a woman's safety, typical cannon violence, deception I'm sorry it's unedited...

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8

Simon's POV

A fear tactic. That's what Johnny called it. The infamous Ghost. The Reaper of The Night. The man, myth, and legend that was coming to act as a vengeful reaper and mercilessly take the lives of those who got in his way.

His reputation preceded him. A reputation he never intended to have. The point was never to be something for others to fear. A Ghost couldn't be seen. A Ghost couldn't be touched. Most importantly, a Ghost couldn't be hurt. Simon was safe if he was dead.

Until he wasn't.

You were just some stupid rooky who joined the army so they'd pay for your college tuition. You had the same sob story most people did. No money, no marital prospects, and not enough education to obtain a job that would sustain you in a struggling economy. No one was coming to save you, so you made a decision to save yourself.

"Mom and Dad were barely making things work financially, I couldn't be a burden anymore," you explained once as you sat next to Soap in the helicopter, your head barely reaching the shoulders of the men and women you were seated around.

It made Ghost's stomach drop, no, Simon's stomach. You were fragile and had no business having that battle rifle in your small, soft hands. People like you were supposed to have options. At least Simon believed so.

How was he supposed to give you orders as if he didn't know you had a higher chance of not making it back? He just wanted to leave you on base, wrapped up in bubble wrap for good measure. When he looked into your eyes there was still a softness there, a feminine light that hadn't been beaten out of you just yet. The idea of seeing it vanish terrified him. It made his chest ache.

You didn't need to know that however, and as far as anyone knew, Lieutenant Ghost despised you. He told you to secure the landing zone for when they got back or left you behind to keep watch on every mission possible. You were convinced the large, masked man saw you as a disgrace to the 141 and was embarrassed to have such a small fry on his team. At least that was the gossip you picked up here and there. He didn't want you to see any action, that much was clear.

"You're up late."

Simon glanced in your direction as he stirred the honey in his tea, his grip on the chipped mug, the porcelain stained on the inside from many years of holding hot coffee, tightening ever so slightly. You were seated in one of the kitchen chairs, legs folded in on yourself as you sipped at your own steaming mug.

He didn't respond and went about dumping his tea bag in the wastebasket. He needed to not look at you in your soft leggings that hugged your figure with that baggy 141 sweatshirt that despite being a size small was still too big for you. You'd be swallowed whole in his clothes, and that was a sight that a very primal part of his brain wanted to see.

There was something about you being so delicate that made him want to press his lips against the curve of your jaw and tell Price to go to hell for not assigning you more office work instead of sending you out with his men.

He had to keep his mind in his upstairs brain, however, lest he risk your life and others in the field. He wouldn't be responsible for you getting hurt.

"I'm sorry," you said all of a sudden.

"What for?" he didn't look up from his mug as he took a sip.

"For being...being a liability that you have to plan for."

He let out a tired sigh. "What happened to going to college?" he disregarded your apology.

"What?"

"Heard you tell Soap you joined the army so you could get into college, that clearly never happened."

You coughed awkwardly. "I got a little lost along the way." You didn't know what to study. Didn't know where to apply. Didn't know what you really wanted out of it other than a career that would make you money. "The 141 offered me a good salary, no need to waste tax dollars on a degree I wouldn't even know what to do with."

You shouldn't have to worry about that sort of thing. You should have someone taking care of all of that so you could read books, go on walks, and grow a garden. You didn't seem like the type who worked because they wanted to, you did it because you had to.

The part of Simon that had watched his mother go to work grueling hours at the local diner just to support his father's addictions hated that. The part of him that had watched her slowly lose her feminine glow and replace it with withered steel to accommodate the survival of herself and her boys stung. He wasn't supposed to feel this hurt. He was supposed to be a Ghost. But the overwhelming urge to care for you was making that difficult.

He set his tea down on the counter and let out a huff as he approached you. Your hair was wet, and you had clearly just come from the shower. He suspected you showered later to avoid the others, specifically the men.

And boy did that thought have him grinding his teeth. If you were his woman, you'd be using his own private quarters to clean up. No prying eyes, not even his own.

"What would you have done if none of that was of any concern?" he asked, and you let out a soft little laugh.

"You'd have me anywhere but here, huh?" you said with a raised brow.

Simon tilted his masked face downward to pin you with a stare that made you swallow thickly, brown eyes boring into your own.

He'd have you dolled up in his cabin back home doing whatever the hell you pleased, painting pretty pictures, baking sweet bread, he bet you would like riding horses too.

"I'd have you safe, y/n."

He didn't say another word to you as he turned around, picked up his mug, and left you to watch him go with wide eyes.

He didn't want to take you on the mission, but Price said they needed someone small enough to sneak in through the warehouse's ventilation system and gather intel.

Price told him not to worry, and that you were a clever girl. That didn't ease his mind in the slightest. He had the scope of his sniper trained on the building, watching for any alarming movement.

"Confirmed intel on the location of the arms dealer and their client, ready to regroup, L.T.?" you whispered into your radio.

"Affirmative, meet us at evac," he replied, motioning for Soap to follow him. The other soldiers under his command had been circling the warehouse from a distance, looking for any sign of trouble. He had just about allowed his shoulders to relax when the alarms started.

Ghost whipped his head around as a slew of curses left Soap's lips. "What'd the little lass do now?" he muttered, but Ghost didn't hear him, having already taken off towards the warehouse.

He was already planning how he was going to chew you out for not being careful enough when he saw trucks approaching in the distance. It wasn't you that set the alarms off, it was some rag-tag terrorist group on their way to rob the warehouse. And you were going to be right in the middle of it.

"L/N! What's your status?" he demanded over the radio. His men were already being pulled into the firefight. It wasn't until he was nearing the warehouse that he finally had eyes on you, your small form crouched behind a stack of crates.

"L/N, Move!" he shouted, providing you with enough cover to make a run for the evac. He watched as you took off, running as fast as your small legs could carry you. He was so distracted with you that the sting of the bullet in his shoulder came as a shock.

Seconds later he was knocked to the ground, by a kick to the back of his leg, and a strained grunt left his chest. His head snapped up as his attacker stood above him, prepared to finish him off with a bullet between his eyes.

But then he stopped, and Ghost's eyes narrowed at the sound of running feet slamming against the ground. He felt his heart sink watching you throw yourself at his attacker, knife in hand.

No. It wasn’t going to work. He was bigger than you, and you didn't have a clue what you were doing. You were going to die for him. Because of him. He'd never hated himself more.

He had to watch the man rip the knife from your hand and drive it into your knee, his anger boiling over as his attacker pushed you away as if you were as threatening as a sunflower stalk.

You fell to the ground in a sobbing heap, and that sound alone had Simon reaching for the man's sidearm despite the pain in his shoulder. There was a bullet in his throat before he even noticed that the Lieutenant was no longer lying flat on his back.

"L.T.? Where are you? Evac is here?" Soap's voice chimed over the radio, but Ghost ignored him as he hefted your small form into his arms.

"Shh shh, hold on f' me now. Done so good so far. Gotta finish the mission," he murmured as he squeezed you against his chest. "M' not leavin' you here," he promised, trudging towards the evac site.

"L.T.?" Soap tried once again, but Ghost didn't answer. It was too much to think, too much to hit the button on his radio as he tried to hold you in a manner that wouldn't make you cry out in pain.

"Almost there, love."

AN: Let me know if you'd like to be tagged! Next chapter will be in Reader's POV!

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #ghost x reader

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konigsblog · 3 months

Note

König who gets even more turned on when you slap him 🙏🏻

something rapist-könig would do...

cw: rape/non-con, afab!gn!reader, degrading, rapist-könig. dead dove: do not eat. 18+ mdni. 🔞

rapist-könig loves being slapped when he's raping somebody. your hole aches at the force of his large cock pushed deep inside of your pussy, rubbing against your cervix with each agonizing thrust. he can hear your pained and mortified sobs, your terrified squeals — he almost feels guilty, ashamed, but loses himself in the tightness and the warm of your gummy cunt wrapped tightly around his shaft...

perhaps it makes him selfish — cruel and violent. call him whatever, he truly doesn't care. könig finds himself letting go of your wrists out of cruelty, knowing how he can easily just pin them back beside your head where he wants them, whilst he gazes down at your wet, tearstained face. you look so exhausted and tired — barely able to keep up as you choke on your own spit, choking on your pleas for mercy.

you slap könig across the face, taking your chances and attempting to hurt him enough where he'll get off of you. although, your attempts are pointless — almost laughable as he stops his harsh and ruthless pace, broad hips pushed against yours, the anticipation and regret visible on your face. könig chuckles breathlessly, quietly gripping your jaw so tightly that you're sure it'll leave bruises, or at least indents. könig grinds himself back and forth, sliding outside of your tight hole, rubbing against your bloodied and bruised folds whilst you grip whatever is around you for support, tears rolling down your face.

you make no effort at removing the hand choking you, wrapped tightly around your nape. instead, your eyes widen as he slides back inside your painful cunt, his thrusts slow, yet deep and threatening. the tip of his meaty cock hammers against your womb, causing you to cry out, attempting to smack him again, and again...

instead, könig finds a sick form of enjoyment getting slapped by his victim, seeing you fight so desperately, yet your struggles are fruitless as he takes advantage of his strength.

seeing your slit spread open around his wet, thick cock leaves him relentless and merciless as he pounds into you, your nails against his back only used as encouragement to fuck you ‘til you've learnt your lesson... :(

#orla speaks #tw: rape #tw: non con #dead dove do not eat #dead dove fic #dark cod #tw: dark content #konig x you #konig x reader #konig x y/n #könig x you #könig x reader #könig x y/n #könig cod #könig call of duty #konig modern warfare #konig mw2 #könig smut #konig smut

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waldau · 4 months

Note

hii i would like to request a fake dating scoups x reader au where the reader falls first but coups falls harder <3 thank u!

here you go anon, hope you like this :)

reset — choi seungcheol | 2,008 words | fluff, hurt/comfort

cheol brainrot go brrrr

gender neutral reader. warnings: none.

technically speaking, the party’s going fine.

despite how much you want to hate it, it’s going the way parties do. there’s music, there’s alcohol, there’s your own corner if you want to tune out the sound of everything else, and there’s seungcheol’s friends. he’s spent at least half an hour introducing you to everyone — you’ve met a lot of them before, but there’s still some new ones. there’s always new ones.

and even though they’ve been nothing but polite to you, engaging you in conversation and making an effort to learn more about you, you can’t shake off the feeling that this isn’t really where you’re supposed to be.

you don’t know who you were kidding when you agreed to be his fake date for the party. he’s already had a ton of people hanging onto him throughout the course of the night. you’re not sure why he even bothered asking you. he could have asked his manager to find someone that would actually match with him, and maybe create a big splash if it made it to the news.

instead, he’d asked you out.

it won’t make a difference in the news, anyway, he’d said, like he wasn’t aware of the way he shattered your heart with those words. like it was common knowledge that nobody could even imagine the two of you together. like it wasn’t worth anyone’s time or imagination, most of all his.

suddenly, you find the sounds in the room too loud to bear. it’s not the first party you’ve been to, but it’s the first one where you’ve felt truly alone. you’re glad you haven’t touched your drink yet.

no one’s really paying attention to you exclusively, and you’re okay with nodding along and throwing in an occasional response here and there. but then it’s not okay, anymore. you shouldn’t have to be here in the first place, on this stupid fake date you agreed to because of your little crush on seungcheol.

okay, maybe it’s not just a little crush. but the point is that you shouldn’t have to be here hurting your feelings in order to spend a little time with him.

you excuse yourself under the pretense of having to take a call and head towards the balcony. joshua, one of seungcheol’s closest friends, comes up to ask you if everything’s okay. you’ve been friends with him for long enough that he can tell when you're fine and when you're not, but you give him a look that hopefully conveys you want him to let this slide.

“seungcheol mentioned this isn’t really your thing, so let him know if you want to go home. i know he’ll be okay with that.”

you nod wordlessly, words of gratitude stuck in your throat. what seungcheol tells you is true — joshua is just too damn perceptive.

you feel like you can finally take a better breath when the door shuts behind you, separating you from everyone else. the cold air makes you feel better, even if it’s beginning to seep into your skin because of the outfit you’ve worn.

it doesn’t matter, though. you need a bit of a reset.

somehow, it hardly takes four minutes before you feel someone behind you. and it’s not just anyone.

“do you have a death wish or something?”

you choose not to grace him with an answer.

“hey,” seungcheol prompts when you don’t reply. “what’s up?”

“shouldn’t i be asking you that?”

seungcheol steps to your side and looks at you. even though you’re gazing down at the empty road sparsely dotted with streetlights, you can feel his gaze pierce you.

“do you want to go home?” he asks softly.

it hurts. he shouldn’t be this considerate to you and then not like you back. it can't just be one without the other.

“i don’t know, do you?”

he sighs. “okay. i don’t know what i’ve done wrong, but i can tell you’re not comfortable right now. are you done for tonight?”

you shake your head. “i don’t want you to leave because of me. it seemed like you were having fun back there.”

“and you weren’t,” he replies, reading between the lines.

“it doesn’t matter, okay? it’s not your fault i’m not having fun.”

“that’s not how this works,” seungcheol stresses, stepping forward to grip your arms and recoiling a bit. “you’re cold.”

you shrug. another thing that’s not gone well today.

seungcheol takes off his jacket and hands it to you without any hesitation, but you don’t take it. you can’t keep living in your little daydream, living on moments where you think he might love you just a bit more than he would a friend. one of you needs to break the cycle, and if it’s going to be you, you’re prepared.

“seriously, what is wrong with you?” he asks, soft but sharp. you finally look him in the eyes. he has that gaze — the one where it looks like he knows exactly what you’re thinking about. it scares you sometimes, the way he’s so accurate. he must have picked up something from joshua over the years.

“nothing’s wrong with me, cheol,” you say, slightly bitter. “just because i don’t want your jacket doesn’t mean it’s the end of the world.”

"you're right, i'm sorry," he says, taking a step closer to you. "i shouldn't have said it like that. but...it's not just about the jacket. at first i thought i caught you on an off day, but you seemed fine till we got here. i don’t know what happened after that. are you hungry? did someone say something to you? do you need me to punch anyone?”

you give him an exasperated look. “you’d punch someone if i asked?”

“in a heartbeat. i thought you knew that by now.”

“and if i was wrong?”

“you’re never wrong when it comes to things like these. and i’d forgive you even if you were.”

"you're too trusting, you know that?"

"well," seungcheol says, lowering the jacket. but it's still in front of you, still on offer. "you're my best friend. i think you have some privilege."

you hate the earnestness in his voice as much as you love it. “i know. sorry.”

“don’t apologize, sweetheart. tell me what’s wrong, and tell me how i can fix it. i’ll do anything.”

“it’s…nothing you can do,” you say, turning away from him. it's most definitely not in his control, but it’s not your fault for loving him, either.

“how will you know if you don’t try?”

“you just know some things, cheol. trust me on that.”

“yeah? like i know you’re hiding something from me right now? something that’s eating my best friend up, and i don’t even know what to do to help?”

again. those two words. they tear you up from the inside just as much as they hold you together. you can’t help the sharp feeling in your throat which indicates tears might be on the way. you're just frustrated at the unfairness of it all. if only life was a little kinder.

seungcheol, ever perceptive, notices immediately. “sweetheart? it’s something i did, isn’t it? something i said?”

you shake your head, not wanting tears to well up.

“don’t lie to me,” he says, draping the jacket over your shoulders and pulling you into his embrace. you push him away, even though you whole body wants nothing more than to be with him.

“please tell me?”

you take in a breath, the cold night air stinging your nose. “you said something.”

“what was it?”

“you said it wouldn’t make a…difference, if i was your date,” you say, focusing so much on not crying that your voice is barely audible to your own ears. “you said it like no one would care if we were together. like it wouldn’t affect you in any way. like i’m just…your best friend. and no one can see me as anything more.”

seungcheol sucks in a sharp breath. “can i hold you? please?”

you almost refuse, but decide otherwise. you’ve spilled out your mind to him, anyway. the least you deserve is a hug from him.

“i’m so fucking sorry,” he breathes into your hair, his arms looped around your waist and holding you close to him. “i didn’t— i’d never say something like that. that’s not what i meant when i said it.”

“then what did you,” mean, you mean to ask, but your breath gets swept away when he presses a kiss to your head.

“it’s just…everyone knows how close we are,” he says, hand gently running up and down your back. “i thought people wouldn’t bat an eye if they assumed we were dating, you know. i know people who already think we are. or…that we should.”

you look up at him at that. he looks serious about what he’s saying, but also shy, like he doesn’t want you looking at him when he’s speaking.

“people?”

“some of my close friends.”

that's news to you. “so you don’t mind…people thinking we’re a thing? or thinking we should be?”

“of course not,” he says, holding you with one hand and tracing your cheekbone with the other. you fall for him just a bit more, right there. “anyone would be lucky to have you. i’d be the luckiest guy to have you.”

he just says things like that, and it makes you wonder if he really means them. so you decide to push him this time, and see where it goes. and blame it on your nerves and the drink you never had if things don’t go well. “would you?”

“want to have you?”

you nod, breath trapped in your throat.

“yeah,” he breathes out, leaning forward and tucking his chin in your shoulder.

you swear your world stops for just a second. you’re hardly even aware that he’s leaning on you now.

"yeah as in?"

“i’d like you to take you out for a real date. if you’ll let me.”

you pull away to look at seungcheol. he’s blushing, but he’s not looking away.

"if i'll let him, he says."

"well?" seungcheol lifts a hand to fix your hair.

“this isn’t a joke?”

he steps back and rubs his face, probably in an attempt to brace himself for whatever he wants to say. it doesn’t work. you like him like this, you think. with his hair messy and his eyes shy.

“of course not. i’d never joke about something like this. especially when it’s you.”

you should be the one who's shy and blushing, and yet there's nowhere else you'd rather look. “what made you…”

seungcheol takes your hands. they're a warm contrast to your cold ones. “i’ve been wrestling with it for a while, and i never told you because i didn’t want things between us to be weird. but i couldn’t keep faking it after i saw you tonight. you look so good, it’s been killing me.”

you shake him off to loop your arms around his neck and pull him down to you, feeling a bit braver. “so if i told you i wanted to leave right now…”

he swallows loud enough for you to hear. “we’d be out of here right now.”

you stand on your tiptoes to bring yourself to his height and place a little kiss on his nose.

he pouts. “that’s it? that’s all i get after confessing to you?”

“i don’t want our first kiss to be in front of an audience, cheol.”

seungcheol smiles. “fair. but i don’t know how much longer i can wait now.”

“you’re going to have to ask me out for real, you know.”

“but you haven’t told me you like me back yet,” seungcheol says. you can hear the whine in his voice and it makes you laugh a bit.

“you need to hear me say it?”

“of course i do! i've spent weeks thinking about tonight.”

“aren't you lucky, then?" you tease.

“the luckiest,” he says solemnly.

it's your turn to blush now.

taglist: @bookyeom @wootify @strnsvt @cloudycaramel @thepoopdokyeomtouched @minnieminshi

#oh the quotation marks are fucked up with this one i can't be bothered to change them #but other than that. it was fun writing this #choi seungcheol #choi seungcheol fluff #seungcheol #seungcheol fluff #coups #scoups fluff #fluff #svt #svt fluff #seventeen fluff #seventeen #waldau writes #req

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eldritch-spouse · 10 months

Note

Hear me out ok? In the middle of the night u just get rlly needy and horny but u dont have the guts to wake vesper up so u use his belly mouth instead to get off. Idk if im mistaken but i think u mentioned about vesper's belly mouth is awake even in the night?

[Yep, correct! Fem reader.]

TW: Somnophilia; Dubious consent then enthusiastic consent.

It's its own special type of Hell, living with Vesper.

Not because he treats you badly. Quite the contrary, as soon as you started making efforts to accept your new reality, he was the first one to volunteer any sort of help, hoping to make you feel as comfortable here as you did in your home, back on the surface. And, putting aside the volumes of mixed feelings you have regarding all this, it's... Sweet of him to at least care about your comfort.

That's not the problem.

The problem is your ceaseless libido.

Ever since you woke up in this ring, in his mansion, you've been burning up with arousal. You're always some degree of wet, sensitive, mind heading to the gutter far too frequently. You want everything and everyone, you want Vesper's touch on your body at every. Possible. Moment. You want him to slip his fingers and tongue anywhere he can and you want him to pick you up like a fucktoy whenever he pleases- Because it feels like nothing will ever sate you these days.

When you brought these concerns to the King, he was more than thrilled by the knowledge, though also a tad empathetic. It must be jarring, yes, he cooed, but you'll soon come to embrace your own desires. They're your true nature, after all.

It was... A strange conversation. To say the least.

Thankfully, Lust is the last place in the universe where you can be judged for excessive sexual cravings. It isn't the possible judgment of others that stops you from going all in, your own thoughts are what makes you hesitate.

Because, even if Vesper has made it very clear that you're to deliberately seek him out when you're bothered -No matter what he's up to- He can't possibly mean all the time, right?

It's common sense that you're not supposed to wake the Icon of Lust from a dead sleep just so you can have sex. How selfish of you! He's a King, he needs his rest.

But Gods... You're so fucking horny.

You can feel your heartbeat in your cunt. Maybe it's from sleeping in the same bed as him, where his loose fluff spreads sometimes, getting into the sheets, contaminating them. That must be the cause of your misery, in retrospect.

Well... You could get up. Look around, have a drink, return to bed after cooling off and enjoying the view from his lavish home. But you're comfortable.

And his smell... Oh, you inhale the pillow between you two faintly, it's addictive.

You don't want to get up. At all. Leaving this room sounds awful.

The tiniest bit of light creeps in through a gap in the massive curtains of your resting chambers, allowing some of the faint reddish glow of night to slink its way in, highlighting the form of your massive, recently proclaimed husband. Vesper sleeps soundlessly, a hand over his chest, the other, once holding you to his side, now dormant on the sheets, fingers periodically twitching. He sleeps bare, to absolutely no one's surprise. Legs faintly parted, offering a view you admire shamelessly in the dark. You've no doubt he has watched you like this before, so it's more than fair you get to ogle as well.

He's gorgeous. He's hot. So hot. You're married to the hottest thing that ever lived. Gods, he's such a whore.

Another flare of heat travels its way up from your loins. It would be exceptionally easy. All you'd have to do is palm at his exposed slit for a moment or two and he'd pop those treats out for you. All for you. He wouldn't even care, it's probably normal for Vesper-

With a shake of the head, you push said thoughts away as hard as possible. See? Not a moment of rest, all these gross ideas swimming around like they belong, like it's right. You're above something so rude!

But you're not above touching yourself in the same bed.

In your humble defense, you need this. You really need this, or you're going to scream and drag yourself on the ground like a bitch in heat. Panties are swiped aside with great haste, both hands quickly darting for the crux of your fire. It takes literally no effort for you to be able to slide two fingers into yourself, then three, trying to roll your clit in the best angle at the same time. It's clumsy, hurried, and unfortunately, fruitless. Instead of relieving you of this insurmountable heat, all it does is incense you further- Wishing it was more, better, bigger.

Wishing it was Vesper that's fucking your little body the way he pleases.

A whimper almost makes it past your clenched teeth.

Beside you, there's sudden movement. A large tail swatting back and forth -Wagging?- While Vesper's brows furrow and his breathing hastens rhythmically, like he's sniffing. When you halt, mortified, so does his stirring.

Idiot.

What a bright idea. As if the King of Lust wouldn't feel your desire right next to him.

Childish irritation settles in you as you sit on your own stewing arousal, sulking. Until a loud rumble jolts you, that is. After a pause of stunted blinking, you put two and two together.

While the demonlord may be fast asleep, a part of him is clearly active. Gaze falling to Vesper's abdomen, his sizeable second mouth can be seen parted, greedily flicking a fat tongue over sharp chops. It pants, a dopey sort of smile, muscle lolling as it very easily detects some poor horny sap nearby.

Or, maybe it recognizes you already. This certainly isn't your first meeting with Vesper's second mouth.

Amused, getting a couple of nasty ideas, you smile at the organ. " Hello there... " You whisper to it.

It doesn't react too much to the sound of your voice, although gleefully wets its lips and chuffs, waiting. You're sure it'll settle back down given enough time.

It's just a matter of ignoring it.

...

......

Fuck it.

Guilty eyes glance from Vesper's peacefully resting complexion to the shifting mouth beneath, and you gulp, self-control falling victim to rabid want. Again.

Slowly, silently, you wriggle out of your undergarments, keeping your breath in check as you move to straddle Vesper's abdomen. Given the size difference, and he seems to plump in a couple areas, you have a difficult time stretching your legs enough to encompass his waist.

Little does it matter, as you don't even get to sit before that muscle has already slapped itself onto your soaked cunt with a decidedly loud PLAP. Cosmic luck alone prevented you from moaning immediately. Vesper turns his face, then settles once more.

This might have been a bad idea.

The mouth is merciless on you, drool slathered on your tights, ass and belly as it gluttonously slurps at you, making lurid sounds you hope to whatever's out there won't wake the King. Terrible idea or not, it's well worth the trouble, because it's exactly the type of pressure you need to get off.

A sweet sigh makes it past your lips when shaky legs lower, having to brace your palms firmly on each side of the bed when the mouth starts smooching tenderly at your lips. How... Sweet. Cute.

Then, suddenly, it latches on. Literally. Its size allows the organ to wrap around your groin easily, applying an all-encompassing suction delicious enough to have you rolling your eyes and jerking your hips forward, nerve endings frying on a pan. God fuck yes, you didn't know it could do that!

An orgasm approaches fast, likely due to how long you've been waiting for it, building up tension. As sensation makes your lower body jerk and tense, shaky legs press you harder against that hungry maw, almost nicking yourself with bold teeth. It feels wonderful. Delightful.

Even asleep, only Vesper can make you feel this good. It's almost too funny a concept to be true.

Nothing halts the flow of keens and gasps you offer when it pauses its slurping to shove that roving muscle into your pussy, flirting with your entrance a little before feeding you more and more and more of itself, until you're groaning at the fullness. The first experimental undulation it makes is so strong that you legitimately moan out, loud and clear, dropping squarely onto Vesper and holding on for dear life as your jostled with each thrust.

You're sure you're drooling on his belly, though it hardly matters, eyelids fluttering, nonsensical pleas chanted in the dark.

" Oh fuck- Yes- Please please please, I need to come. Fffuck, I need to come... "

You're so close! It's right there, you can't wait to get licked and sucked as you ride it out, it'll be so-

" Mm, why didn't you say so? "

You don't even get to have a moment of shame when realization dawns. Large hands grab onto your hips and screw you onto the demonlord's tongue hard enough to make you see stars, the movement in your walls so frantic that you have no choice but to howl in bliss before a single excuse could flow past your parted lips.

And all you can do is flail and cry in overstimulation when Vesper continues sucking at all the arousal you can offer him.

" My Queen should want for nothing. "

His sickly magenta eyes leer at you from the darkness.

" You will come. "

It's a promise.

#Vesper oc #yandere monster #yandere teratophilia #terato #monsterfucker #monster boyfriend #terat0philliac #minors dni #not sfw

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0w0tsuki · 4 months

Text

God damn "dude/man/guy is gender neutral actually" discourse is really a sign y'all are fucking hopeless. Because the bar is quite literally on the FUCKING FLOOR.

You know the stereotypical "performative cis liberal ally"? The one who upon acknowledging they've been corrected about an accidental misgendering, turns it into an entire god damn show of apologizing and telling you how HARD they're working to gender you correctly. Yeah if you're someone who defends the use of dude and man as gender neutral terms guess what? Even with making every apology a grand display at least they're fucking apologizing and putting forth an effort to show you that they're putting your interests in mind.

Which is more than can be said of you.

Imagine if they were told they accidentally deadnamed you. And instead of the usual acting like they just accidentally hit their own fucking child they went "Actually I think [DEADNAME] is pretty androgynous and could be used for anyone of any gender! I'm not going to use it now that you have corrected me! But I just wanted you to know I didn't see myself as explicitly misgendering you when I used [DEADNAME]"

We are asking for the BARE MINIMUM amount of effort! Literally all you have to do is if your going to insist that "Using gender neutral terms when referring to somebody even when their actual gender is readily available information is actually the correct way to gender somebody online" that at the VERY LEAST use actual gender neutral terms instead of dude/guy/man. You don't even give up your use of it in your everyday life. You're only being asked to think about this in spaces where trans women are common such as online queer spaces.

That is how little trans women not being misgendered left and right in places that sell themself as safe for her matters to you. It matters so little that you can't even be asked to not do the barest minimum to not contribute to an environment where anyone who wants to misgender a trans woman with no repercussions can just Dude her knowing full well that she will view it as misgendering and fall back on "oh I was just being gender neutral. YoU sHoUdN't AuToMaTiClY aSsUmInG pEoPlE's GeNdErS!!" Which is a common enough occurrence that we have to have this fucking discourse.

The bar is on the floor and y'all are digging holes just to not have to face the smallest of inconveniences. Performative allies are fucking lapping you. You should be embarrassed.

Do better

#transmisoginy #transmisogyny #misgendering #intracommunity #do better #dude bro

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spitdrunken · 4 months

Text

i keep thinking about essentially being like. velvette's 'charity case' model and how your relationship develops from there.

notes: fem!reader, velvette calls you ugly LMAO, beyond that... no warnings, really. surprisingly the most healthy vee relationship ive written yet!

velvette's typical models all look similar, reminiscent of the modeling industry back when you were alive. tall, skinny and, more important than anything else, human-looking. most of them could pass for humans in a costume.

you… do not. you just didn't get quite that lucky with your demon form! really, you can say that the vast majority of people drew the short end of the stick, at least by the kind of standards that people like velvette set. maybe you're a bat, with a snout you've deemed as pig-like taking up most of your face. or a sheep, your single-slitted, dead eyes making even you uncomfortable. perhaps you're more formed after an object than what you would consider a person, or plant-like in nature! in any regards, due to the way lucifer chose to have you reborn you firmly do not fall within hell's beauty standards.

all of that means you were absolutely not expecting to be accepted when you went ahead and applied to a job with someone as famous and perfectionistic as velvette. it had started as a joke, really. you'd posted a purposefully horrible picture of yourself on vitter, with a stupid caption like; "do u think that :skull::heart: would kill me for submitting to open casting looking like this lmaooooo" (you have to use emojis to talk about the vees, as the socials owned by them are notorious for taking anything remotely negative down.)

and unexpectedly, your post randomly did some pretty big numbers, with people egging you on and some practically begging to tell you what kind of insults she would sling at your head. you saw some people copying your original as well.

so you're like! whatever!!! you don't think that you'd even get through the application process, much less velvette herself. nothing will end up happening, so, who cares? but then, somehow, despite everyone and their mom wanting to model for velvette, you get… through? and you even get an interview scheduled with velvette herself?

she takes one look at you as you walk in, and just goes: oh my god. this really is grim. and you're hardly seated, before she continues. look, i don't have the time for niceties, and introductions are entirely unnecessary. i'm sure you already know this, but you're not here because of your looks.

yeah. you figured that. …i guessed so. but i'm still sitting here. so, why?

instead of getting a real answer, you're shuffled off into a shoot, different outfits flashing on top of your body, faster than you blink, velvette's face settled into a scowl, till it suddenly lights up. it doesn't go… super well, you've never really done this and, if you had, velvette's attitude surely wouldn't help. you never really get clarity as to why you're being hired, when a contract is shoved in front of you.

(the reality of the situation is that velvette had seen you trending, not trending-trending, but still a noticable. she realised the demand for someone like you, a 'relatable' every-demon being thrust into this new world, and documenting it online. her company can claim they accept 'all kinds of demons', and some poor suckers will feel less excluded when looking at her fashion, buying it more quickly. win-win-win!)

she tells you to you're face that you're the ultimate challenge. if she can fix someone like you up to in a half-decent model, it just shows that she really is a fucking goddess. maybe you're not as pretty or as used to everything as the rest of the models, but that doesn't mean you don't put in any effort now that you're there. the other girls won't associate with you whatsoever, but you do listen in on their conversations, pretending to mess around on your phone, coming to know the kind of make-up velvette likes. you tirelessly browse online, mostly on vikvok and vitter, figuring out the current trends. and after a while, velvette takes a look at an outfit you picked, and actually says…

this is pretty decent. it won't look good on you, but i can use this. maybe, somewhere along the way, you become more of an assistant or outfit suggestor for velvette, only occasionally stopping in for shoots. velvette never accepted anyone in a similar position to you, even though vox tried her to get an assistant for ages, and she wouldn't have accepted you either if you'd obviously being vying for the position. but you weren't, and your position just kind of naturally developed that way.

your shtick as a 'charity case' has somewhat been abandoned, though velvette still dumps clothes in your arms sometimes and tells you to try them on. maybe you're one of the few people who gets her to laugh, and the only one who she freely bitches to about all of her models. (she does this to vox and valentino too, but it's not the same. they don't care as much, nor do they really know who she's talking about.) she lets you sort through some of the open casting applications and help pick out the theme for a shoot.

of course, absolutely everything you do has to go through velvette first, and she still criticizes you aplenty, but you can't help but feel she has grown… fond of you, in a sense? sometimes, you swear you see her wearing outfits you'd picked out for another model… and while she shittalks everything that moves, you just happened to listen in on her giving a model a tonguelashing for talking bad about you. either way, you've certainly come to like her a lot more. you're now even mutuals on vitter and vikvok! much to the delight of the tiny following you'd grown on there. she even posted a picture of the two of you on there! …that means you've really made it.

maybe at some point, when her company has hit a new milestone and, in a rare slip-up (or perhaps valentino gave her a super strong drink on purpose, thinking its funny) she gets pretty drunk. you end up sitting opposite of each other in a bar, with her having decided on the spot to put some make-up on you, leaning in close to check her work, fingers gliding slowly over your skin. a situation that feels entirely too intimate for this setting, not helped by the half-lidded look in your eyes. …i have changed my mind. she mumbles, slurring her words are little. you can look pretty, after all.

you sputter out a oh really, and you only realised that now?! in order to break the heaviness of the air, the unspoken tension that makes your heart skip a beat, and velvette laughs.

(maybe there's hope for the two of you yet.)

#hazbin hotel x reader #velvette x reader #hazbin hotel velvette x reader #hazbin hotel #velvette #cha.velvette

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shallyouobeyme · 8 months

Text

Path

Platonic!Yandere!Strawhats x reader (GN)

Summary: Slightly exhausted from never having any time on your own, you decide to swindle a little bit to get to spend a day alone with nature. What could go wrong? It's not like your crew is unhinged and obsessed with you, right? Right?!

!Minors do not Interact!

TW: Obsession, Yandere, Dark content, Threatening (not against Reader), slight infantilization, drugging, Reader discretion is adviced

Day 3 of my Yandere Writetober

Today was the day. The day you'd finally have some time for yourself - you had planned everything perfectly. You'd tell Luffy, Nami, Lysop and Sanji that you'd spend your day off with Zoro watching him train and you'd tell Zoro that you'd go shopping with Nami.

Zoro always left the ship first when you had your days off where all of you were off doing your own thing, so you'd leave the ship with him and once you were outside you'd tell him you had forgotten something and that he should leave since you'd be going with Nami anyways, so you'd go back onto the boat and get your journal (that was definitely not sitting in your bag, what are you talking about).

Zoro would leave thinking you were with Nami while you'd sneak off and the others would think you had left with him. You'd get back onto the ship before Zoro would make his way down and tell him that Nami had accompanied you back when you started to have a headache and when Nami and the others returned they would think you had come back with Zoro who would probably be napping by then.

If you were really lucky then maybe they wouldn't even talk about it and your little ruse wouldn't be uncovered, then you might be able to do it again sometimes.

Of course, you didn't want to lie to them, honestly, you didn't enjoy it one bit. They were your closest (and only) friends and they had become like family to you so lying wasn't your first option, but you had tried anything else by then.

Every time you docked at a new harbour and had no important mission to attend, Luffy declared the day a chill-out day where everyone could go off on their own to enjoy a little alone time since you were usually basically skin to skin 24/7. Except, somehow, you always ended up spending the day with one of them.

Either Zoro would make you watch him train under the guise that he wanted to help you learn some self-defence (when you mentioned the flaw in his logic that you never did any training, instead always watching him, he insisted that it was about seeing the correct form first and ended the argument, given that he was the expert), Sanji would take you to the market to buy ingredients or keep you in the boat to make you try his new recipes (always something that had similarities to your favourite dish to make sure you enjoy it) and Lysop would take you to some bar or another lively area where he told his stories in which he always was the one who saved you from mortal danger. Nami was probably the best to spend the day with. She made an effort to do something you enjoyed as well, or at least she tried until she found herself seeing something pretty in a shop and dragged you in to do some shopping - she loved seeing you in the cutest outfits and made sure to buy you something pretty every time she got to spend the day with you.

Luffy was definitely the worst, you loved him like a brother and he was the best captain you could imagine, but he was so... energetic. You'd always been more of an introvert, enjoying being alone with nature and your thoughts, and he - with his endless optimism and his hunger for adventure - was not that, in the best way possible. It was just really exhausting. He always got the two of you in some trouble one way or another and even though he always managed to get you out of it again, it was really stressful for you.

You had long stopped asking why you were never allowed to go off on your own, it always got you the same answer: 'Y/N, we just want to make sure you're safe after all you were not got at fighting like the rest of the crew. We just want to protect you.' You knew that they had a point, you had never learned to fight and you were never courageous enough to raise a weapon against someone else, even when they might have deserved it - which is also one of the reasons Zoro insisted on your 'training sessions'. Honestly, a little child playing pirates could probably beat you to a pulp easily.

Sometimes you wondered why you had even become part of the crew, but the others always squashed those doubts by telling you how important and helpful you were. After all, you were an expert in most things flora and fauna and had extensive knowledge of many different cultures, which often helped get the crew out of sticky situations and often helped when Zoro got you lost again and Luffy couldn't keep going from hunger.

But even though you weren't a fighter, you figured that you'd be fine for one day on a peaceful island without any large predatory animals, it wouldn't hurt anyone if you spent one day going on a walk through the beautiful nature and finally getting to spent more time journaling about the beautiful flowers and bird on the trail.

Which is why - while you hated lying - you didn't feel too bad about fooling your friends. And it was definitely worth it. You found some beautiful specimens of rare Venus Fly Traps and rare hybrid roses, along with a beautiful field of Symphyotrichum - also known as Asters - filled with hundreds of beautiful butterflies which made great models for your doodling.

It was so relaxing that you didn't even spare a thought towards what your crew was doing right then, which was - looking back at it - maybe not too clever, because somewhere else on the island, Zoro decided that he had enough training for the day and that maybe he should try to find Nami to spent some time with you and by some strange miracle did not get lost on the way there.

So imagine his surprise when he saw Nami, on her own, looking through some shop window. Imagine Nami's surprise when she looked around and caught sight of Zorro's green hair and her excitement of seeing you quickly faded at the fact that you were not standing there with him.

Zorro jogged over to here. "Isn't Y/N with you?" "I thought Y/N was training with you?" Both of them asked at the same time and quickly realized that something was wrong. They split up to look for the rest of the crew hoping that you may have just changed your mind and decided to hang out with one of them instead.

It was clear to say that they did not become calmer once all five of them had gathered and realized that you were, in fact, with neither of them. They split up once again to find you and it was safe to say a lot of people were threatened that day (mostly by Zorro) as they combed through the island, looking everywhere they could think of to find you, slowly but surely growing more and more agitated and slightly violent, leaving a trail of disturbance and in some cases destruction behind.

You, none the wiser, were on your way back to the boat since it was about half an hour before Zorro would usually quit training and you wanted to be sure you were on the boat before him, with a little pep in your step. The smile could not be wiped off of your face, or at least you thought so.

You were proven differently when you approached the harbour and found Zorro holding one of his swords to the neck of one of the harbour workers in a very, very threatening manner.

Quickly you hurried over, quickly getting back into the habit of trying to defuse the situation. "What's going on?" you shouted once you were only a few feet away. Zorro quickly looked at you, first with a look of confusion then of immense relief. He let his sword fall and rushed over to you, so quickly that you couldn't even process it before he had you squashed in his arms in a hug so tight that you had trouble breathing. One arm was pulling you towards him, and the other was pushing your head against his chest where you could hear his quick heartbeat.

You could hear someone running away, you assumed it was the poor harbour worker who had just had a near-death experience, as Zorro mumbled something about you being safe, and how he would not let you go again, but you couldn't hear him properly with one ear pressed against his chest and one against his palm.

You tried to wiggle out of his grasp but he only tightened it. "Are you okay?" you whispered even though you probably wouldn't even be able to understand his answer, which wasn't necessary because he didn't answer. Instead, you heard him screaming loud enough for it to reach your covered ears.

"Guys, I found them!!! They're okay!" You could make out a lot of steps coming towards you and soon you were getting whiplash from getting thrown around to so many different people all embracing you tighter than the last ones and every single one seemingly being more opposed to letting you go again.

In the end, you found yourself - somehow - being held by Luffy like a cradled child, who - also - pressed your head against him. "Are you okay? Did anyone hurt you? We were worried sick about you," he questioned anxiously.

"What, no! No one hurt me, I'm A-okay, no one hurt me. Why were you worried?" "What do you mean why? You were gone, you weren't with Zorro like you said," Nami responded, quickly followed by Zorro, "And you weren't with Nami like you told me."

You couldn't help your face growing so very warm and darkening in colour because of the embarrassment of being caught in a lie. "Well," you started, not being able to help it that you pressed your face even closer towards Luffy, not able to stand the disappointment you imagined in their faces - unaware that they all couldn't help but coo over how precious you looked like that, "I may have swindled a little bit, I- I just wanted to spend some time on my own, I wanted to go through nature and journal again for once, I really didn't mean to make you worry."

"You could have told us, I'd gladly go through walks in the forest with you, who knows I might find some nice fresh fruit for some pastries on the way," Sanji said and you elected to ignore the fact that you had mentioned it towards them and that part of the whole idea was you having some alone time, but you figured you were already in enough trouble as is.

"I'm sorry, I really am, next time I'll say what I like outright," you sighed earnestly, now slightly concerned about the fact that Luffy still hadn't let you go.

"I don't think there'll be a next time soon, it's probably best if one of us stays on the boat with you from now on, just until we're sure we can trust you again, okay?" Zorro exclaimed and the others seemed to agree with him.

"What? No? I'm not a child, you can't just keep me locked away. I get that you want to protect me, but I'm my own person, I can make my own decisions and if I want to go on a walk I can go on a walk, now would you please let me down?"

Ignoring your request at the end of your rant, Luffy shook his head and shushed you slightly, "I know this is a lot to take in, but we just want to protect you, you're too frail and fragile to be alone in this dangerous world, so we'll take care of you, okay? Now I think it's time for a nap, don't you think so?"

You tried to argue that they should stop treating you like a child right that instant when suddenly there was a little vile of liquid brought to your lips and you couldn't help but swallow it in shock. You tried to fight back against Luffy's grip, tried to ask them what the hell they were doing and what was happening, why they were suddenly acting so strange, but every move felt like you were weighed down by a thousand tons and your words came out slurred and more and more quiet before you couldn't keep your eyes open and fell into a deep, disturbed slumber. Unaware of how much your life - and your position in the crew would change.

N/A: As a new blog, I'd really appreciate a like or a reblog or maybe even a comment if you enjoyed ❤️

#writetober #yandere #opla #yandere opla #one piece life action #x reader #one piece life action x reader #one piece x reader #one piece #zorro x reader #luffy x reader #nami x reader #sanji x reader #lysop x reader #platonic!yandere #platonic yandere #platonic #tw: drugging #tw: yandere

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willowser · 7 months

Text

you had only to look at me—

part one.

bakugou x f!reader

wc: 7.4k+

tags: nsfw (18+), childhood best friend bakugou, oral (f!receiving), m!masturbation, lots of "first time" talk, more angst, more virgin bakugou.

even before i was touched, i belonged to you; you had only to look at me. — the burning heart, louise glück.

this is a repost.

you and bakugou avoid each other just like you did in middle school, only it's a little too easy this time around.

he's terrible at texting back in general, and because you're not initiating any conversations on your own — or sending funny memes or bringing up all might in some capacity — the radio silence draws ever on and on.

the closest you come to interacting with him is getting a snapchat from his mom, his figure in the background at their kitchen table. all you can see is the floof of his hair and the outline of his shoulders, but you're so bothered by the fact that he's home and didn't tell you that you don't even respond.

it officiates things in a bad way; he's really, actually not speaking to you.

and it's — fucking annoying.

at least in the past the distance was mutually and wordlessly agreed upon; you didn't talk because you were busy or didn't have time or anything new to say, but whenever he's come home — because he so rarely does — bakugou has always made his usual, god-honest attempt to irritate you.

and he still is, but this time he's doing it all wrong.

you go through the five stages of grief rather quickly, jumping from denial to anger overnight. several times, you type out something to text him, each message different than the last:

i know you were at your mom's jackass ☠️

it's really not a big deal and i think we should just forget about it, if that's what you wanna do ?

if i crossed some kind of boundary with you then i'm sorry and i won't say that again so you better call me before i put your baby pictures on the internet. i'm serious.

you're my best friend and i don't think it's weird that it happened. if you're being dumb because you're embarrassed, then don't be because i thought it was really hot

unsurprisingly, you don't send any of these and instead just stew in your own aggravation. lunch with him after the whole thing had been just as empty and awkward, and you think he chose the place near your apartment just so you could walk home and he didn't have to spend another second with you.

three months go by, which isn't long compared to other stints you've spent not talking to one another, but this one drags. like a lot. the only good that comes from it is that you graduate from anger to acceptance, finalizing a future without him in it.

except for the few times he invades your brain like a little parasite, red-faced and shuddering, gripping you like a lifeline, and then your stomach flips so hard that you feel sick and it takes genuine effort to check out of that daydream and back into a bakugou-less reality.

and then he shows up at your apartment, uninvited.

his mom hosts a sunday dinner that you don't go to, for several potential reasons. one would be that you'll have to see bakugou and pretend like nothing's happened even though you're still a little peeved; two is that you'll both ignore each other, and that'll reverse all your progress because he's been ignoring you already.

three is that he might not show up, and then you'll have to pretend that it doesn't bother you all night long.

none of that sounds better than watching trash television and falling asleep on your couch, so you tell mitsuki that you're very sick and very sorry, and that you'll make it up to her later.

because of this, the first thing bakugou says to you after you swing the front door open is, "you're supposed to be fuckin' dead."

suffice to say, you're surprised to see him; still outfitted in his hero costume, mask shoved up his forehead so that his hair is wilder than usual. there's kohl smudged around his eyes, messy, and they look brighter and harsher because of it.

there's also a family-mart plastic bag in his right hand.

"what?"

he just grunts, eyes snapping over your figure, dressed down in a too-large sweater and athletic shorts meant for running even though you've never done so in them.

in his hands — still gloved — the plastic crinkles obnoxiously as he holds it out. "old hag told me to bring this to you."

a can of low sodium soup, two apples, gatorade, and something over-the-counter for nausea. there's something else at the very bottom that you don't get the chance to inspect before he interrupts with his big, fat mouth.

"y'look fine to me, so why the hell didn't you go?"

you frown at him and — don't know what to say. clearly, it seems he's going the pretend-it-never-happened route, which is infuriating because he could just as well have done that months ago. even still, he won't hardly meet your gaze, staring for only a moment before rolling his eyes and huffing, sticking them anywhere else. if you peek close, real close, you'd say his ears are a little red, but maybe you're just looking for — something.

you shrug. "didn't feel like it."

he shakes his head like that's the stupidest thing he's ever heard, eyebrow arched. "why the hell not?"

"because, bakugou, i just didn't feel like going, i don't know what else to tell you." you huff, shrugging again when he doesn't say anything. "thanks for the stuff. is that it?"

his lips twist as he thinks, giving you another once-over before sighing. under his tank-top, you watch how his chest expands, the grimace that ripples over his face as he reaches a hand to lightly feel at his right side. "need your help with somethin'."

now you're just being petulant; you snort, raising your eyebrows as his eyes narrow at the sound. "me? are you joking? you need my help with—"

he groans loud enough to drown you out. "y'gonna let me in or y'just gonna run your mouth?" and so you step aside to wave him in wordlessly.

the backpack on his shoulder dumps to the ground by the door and he strolls into the kitchen like he owns the place, despite the fact that he's never been here before. you've lived in the unit for a year, but meetups are so infrequent and showing it off to him was never considered — until now; watching him shuffle through the bag on the counter, your nerves spike at the reality check.

alone together, again. in your apartment. well after dark.

that image of him is so — invasive, sweeping in at the worst times: between your legs, face as red as his eyes, the little moan he kept trying to swallow. how embarrassed he seemed when you asked if he felt good, if you felt good, and the fact that he still admitted it despite everything.

your entire body blazes like a flame to gasoline, and you try to focus on what else he's taking out of the bag, oblivious.

does he think about it at all? the way you have? at the root of the situation, that's what has been most bothersome: is he grossed out? simply embarrassed? does he feel taken advantage of? did he enjoy it and just doesn't know how to say it? the not knowing is driving you insane.

"i got—" bakugou awkwardly angles his body, gently touching at his side again. in his hands is a simple pack of first-aid supplies, like a wound wash and bandages and medical tape. "need you to change this shit for me."

"oh?" is all you can manage to say, still distracted, and whatever is obvious in your voice has his eyes snapping to you from across the kitchen, adam's apple bobbing. you clear your throat, struggling for normalcy. "the hell did you do?"

he's — going to take his shirt off. clearly, by the way he stretches out his shoulders and then slowly reaches behind himself to grab the material by the back, carefully pulling it up over his head with a low, stinging hiss.

bakugou's always been a lean kid — guy — but pulled so taut like that, after years of working out muscles you didn't even know he had, he looks — stupidly shredded, and the slow reveal of his tight stomach is not helping you to focus.

you just never realized how hot it was, because you never looked at him like that. until recently.

his mask comes off with his shirt and he tosses both onto the kitchen counter — again, as if he pays the bills here — and his hair is a mess and he usually doesn't care, but he runs a hand through it several times before finally looking back at you, eyes outlined in black.

"y'gonna help me or...?" he shrugs, trying to appear impassive — but it's too obvious; something's shifted, for the both of you.

you don't trust your voice anymore, so you just shuffle over to him, frowning at the dirty, worn bandage that's already unsticking from his skin. with his teeth, he pulls off his gloves and it's a wonder why he even wears them, really, because his hands are filthy underneath, covered in soot and black-stained grease.

standing like he is, arm slightly raised, you can see all his sweat, muscles shifting under his skin as he breathes, and his hairy armpit is staring you in the face and you don't know when he stopped being 12 and started being 20 and when he became such a man. it's not fair, that he should suddenly be so — attractive.

"you're disgusting," you tell him — and mean it — and it's met with such hot and irritated surprise that you have to keep talking before he explodes. "you should probably take a shower before putting on a new bandage."

it's road-rash up his right side, still shiny and wet and blood red. still raw. just looking at it is enough to make you cringe.

bakugou huffs, exasperated. "okay, gimme a towel then."

"i didn't mean take a shower here!" you squawk, taking a step back as if to further yourself from the suggestion.

detonation imminent; bakugou curls his hands into fists and the same muffled warning you've been getting your whole life crackles. "okay," he says, voice thin and razor sharp. "you're coming back to mine then?"

your whole life flashes before your eyes — or at least the few minutes it took for him to lose his shit between your legs. "what? no, why would i?"

"i need your help with this, dip-shit!"

"you're saying there's no one else that can—"

"if you want me to fuck off, just say so!"

things go silent, startlingly so. totally still, except for the rising flush across his face, one that you used to read as annoyance but are now translating into something else you never could have expected from him: embarrassment. it's starting to give you whiplash, how much you're discovering despite knowing him all your life.

"closet is at the end of hall," you say in surrender. "bathroom will be on your left."

bakugou mutters a quiet, angry little "jesus" before stalking back to the front door to get his bag, and then he's disappearing into the dark of your apartment.

you slump down on your couch and — struggle. watching the tv and absorbing nothing; it's a rerun anyway. the sudden, overwhelming urge to cry washes over you as the shower spray sounds in the background, followed by a low-timbered swear and the clatter of several bottles against the tub.

it's easy to butt heads with bakugou. you don't think there is any other way to interact with him, really, because he's so argumentative and that used to be okay, but now things are — off. you don't know what he's doing, what he wants, why he's here and in your shower when he could be at home or getting patched up at his agency. all the conclusions you can come to are frightening, a little, and they're hard to fathom; is he — does he want more?

is this just because he's a guy that got some action and is looking for a second round, or is this because it's you?

this stupid situation has only added an unnecessary amount of drama to your life, and you think maybe the pretend-it-never-happened route is the smartest path, even if you can't stop thinking about him and the strength coiled in his biceps, in his shoulders, and how tall he's become and — when did he lose most of the baby fat in his face, and when did he get such a sharp jawline?

how much is he working out, to get his body like that? he used to be a skinny, scrappy little thing and now — he can probably lift a truck over his head. must run all the time, though he's always been active, and you've never looked before, but you wonder how nice his ass is.

what he looks like under the shower, soapy and wet.

furiously, you blink out of your daydream, feeling like a foreign body in your own skin; if someone would have told you only a handful of months ago that you'd be having weird, sensual thoughts about your best friend, you would have laughed so hard you'd cried. or puked.

but if anyone else stands in that picture with him, your heart squeezes painfully. traitorously. already, you've shared so many memories with him; the start of elementary school, learning how to swim, giving each other equally bruised faces, staying up all night to study for important exams, tackling middle school graduation side-by-side, him making himself at home in your first apartment, just as you had done in his.

the devil on your shoulder asks: what's a few more firsts?

it seems like the shower stops in record time, but when you hone back in on the tv, the episode has changed and new drama is settling in. distantly, the rattle of the doorknob is more aggressive than it needs to be and when the echo of a swung-open door trails down the hallway, your heart suspends in your throat. never have you had to think this much just to be around him, and it's bothersome.

clean and relaxed, he's — softer; you spare a quick glance at him when he comes to stand beside the couch, distracted by the show on screen, and his hair is damp, starting to stick out again the more it dries. his muscles aren't made of marble anymore; still there and rippling, but he breathes calmly and his skin is baby smooth, tender. you eye his tummy and the line of fine hair running down into the waistband of his sweats, and do your best to ignore the sudden desire to kiss right above his belly-button.

"since when are they talking again?"

just as he looks at you, your gaze shoots back to the screen, eyes narrowing as you try to rapidly remember what's happening in the day-to-day for stay-at-home, pro-hero wives.

"uh," you blink, distracted — and he notices, "what do you mean? they've been hanging out, like, all season."

bakugou watches the tv in silence, occasionally glancing down to the bandage in his hands as he carefully spreads it out, as he dampens the towel with the antiseptic and dabs at his wounds.

"even after she hit on whatshername's husband?"

"yeah, that was a misunderstanding," you frown at him but he doesn't see it. "remember when they went to that dinner party and all hell broke loose because—"

his flat look serves for a rude interruption. "they go to a lot of fuckin' dinner parties."

"i know, but," you scoff, annoyed, "have you even watched this season?"

bakugou scoffs, mocking and over-dramatic, "yeah, as if i've got all day to sit on my ass and watch your stupid girly—"

"you're watching it right now."

"because you've got it on!" he huffs when you sink into the couch, resolutely trying to ignore him. “start it over then, if you’re gonna cry about it.”

you gape up at him, going as far as to pause the show so that maybe he’ll acknowledge you and all your annoyance; he doesn’t. “start it over? this is, like, episode 26!”

“so? got a hot date or what?”

he’s not at all interested in the answer and that’s obvious when he spins around and holds out the bandage expectantly, staring down at the scrape — glowing red and angry, a mirrored wound you can feel scabbing across your own skin; itchy and irritating.

finally he looks at you properly, frowning softly and — you see him then, can feel the tension lining his body as you carefully tape on his bandage. trying to hide how uncomfortable he is, though you he’s never had to do so with you in all of — forever. it’s nauseating, and again you're struck by the image of him, only now it's of the horror that had been on his face afterwards, at what you’d done.

it pushes everything over the edge; quietly, so that your voice doesn’t expose anything, you say, “you haven’t spoken to me in three months.”

silence weighs in the air immediately, heavy, and you watch him try to appear unbothered, shrugging as he stares back at the unmoving tv, jaw tight. “phone works both ways.”

“yeah, but,” your hands drop as he steps away to pull on a loose shirt, and you curl your fists into your own. just as he has. “i’m always the one having to reach out—”

“so why didn’t you?”

“what?” frustrated, you massage your temples, trying to soothe the nuclear headache threatening to incinerate you. “are you seriously trying to—”

“what’s the big deal?” he huffs, slumping down into the far corner of the couch before cringing, swearing as he gently touches at his bandage. “you’ve gone longer than that without talkin’ to me, so…”

the tone of his voice is infuriating, as if this is somehow all your fault — and maybe it is, because you shouldn’t have crossed such a boundary with him, but — he can be such a dick.

“it’s not just me bakugou, you could have just as easily picked up the phone, too!” your teeth grind when he shrugs again, leaning his head against his fist as he looks anywhere else. it almost looks like guilt that's dragging his expression down, but you know better than to assume he could feel such a thing. “you always—”

“jesus, if i always do this—”

“shut up for a second, damn!” and then because you can’t stand the stupid look on his face, you kick him in the thigh for good measure; it garners a warning glare, his teeth bared.

he easily catches you by the ankle when you try to kick him again. "tell me what the big fuckin' deal is."

"the big deal? oh, you mean besides the fact that you totally came in your pants?"

it stuns him for a second, eyes wide and face pale, before he's yanking you across the couch, narrowly avoiding the knee aimed for his gut. "you—fucking—!" a smack lands across the back of his head when he ducks and he plants a heavy hand over your face, forcing you to close your eyes and turn away.

"you're gonna blow my head off!"

"if i wanted you dead, you—" he intercepts the hand you blindly reach up with, crossing it awkwardly over your chest so that you're pinned down like a wild animal. "you would be!"

"kiss my ass, katsuki." you snark, and it does something to him, your use of his first name, because he's still for a moment before sitting back and collecting your wrists correctly, to hold against the couch arm above your head.

"you're such a fucking—" he swoops in so low that his nose almost brushes yours and he grabs the front of your sweater with his free hand, like he's gonna shake you down for some lunch money. "fuck, i could just—" and then he groans long and loud, so annoyed he can't find the words.

"yeah, well—"

"shut up," he lightly knocks his forehead into your cheekbone with another dissatisfied sound, letting out a heavy sigh as he sinks his face down into your neck.

all your muscles tighten on instinct, waiting for the sharp bite that's due any second — but his fingers only uncurl from the material of your sweater, slowly slipping around to tangle into the hair at the nape of your neck. his pull there is a little tight, enough for you to know he's got you, but not so much that you're head is aching; you can't imagine you have a sensitive scalp, anyway, after growing up around him.

you want to say something — which is an annoying realization because now you feel like too much of a talker — but you just focus on the heave of his chest over yours, the breath that moves through him. the minute jostle of his hips as he settles further into the space between your legs, almost comfortable. the slight swell of something unfamiliar against your inner thigh.

bakugou presses his face a little further into you, warm, and the tip of his nose drags along the column of your throat. successfully sedating you, distracted by the feel of his parted lips against your skin.

your body is hot all over, very suddenly; the sweater now feels like a death trap and hopefully you don't smell weird, though it's never been a worry before, not around him, and your adrenaline is rushing and you're kinda tired of acting like you don't know why that is.

fuck pretend-it-never-happened. it's been a long three months.

he's almost entirely pressed against you, but there is a small gap of space that closes when you open your legs a little wider, hitching them around his waist as his breath stutters against your neck.

it's happened so quick, so effortlessly yet again; you give a purposeful roll of your hips upward and are lost in him all over.

only — it's different than it was before because straddling his lap hadn't done much for you, but now the weighted outline of him is right against your center and the pressure that drags across you sends tingles up your spine and has your toes curling in your socks. when you let out a tiny gasp at the stomach-flipping sensation, tension coils in every curve of his body and the grip around your wrists and in your hair only tightens.

you can't help it; you let out a "katsuki" in the same heady tone as you did in his apartment and it has him falling easily into the slow grind you've been unable to stop thinking about. what shifts across his face is obvious, against your throat, like the scrunch of his brow and the slow drop of his mouth. he tries to muffle his breathy "oh" into your skin, but it echoes throughout your entire body, has an ache beginning between your thighs that he's already soothing.

the nip comes then, teeth sinking gently into your neck as you weakly cry out in surprise, but it's only for a moment before his tongue — wet and heavy and wide — is tasting over your jugular, lips closing around your skin as he sucks experimentally. you let out a proper moan then, squirming against his hands and up into him so that the pressure doubles for the both of you.

katsuki finally relinquishes your wrists, carding his hand down your body before coming to squeeze your hip, your thigh, locking your leg tight around his waist. "yeah," he rasps, voice deeper than you've ever heard it as he presses his forehead into yours. "how do you fuckin' like it?"

being bitten, he means, vengefully, but you're spread open beneath him and he's rutting the hard length of himself against you roughly, eagerly, and panting open-mouthed and you tighten up at the aggression in his tone and in his hands and his very being and —

"fuck," you gasp, loud and wanton, "fuck, katsuki—"

and then you are kissing your best friend.

the boy from down the street that always ruined your hair and taught you where to place your thumb if you were gonna throw a punch. that used his empty pen cartridge to blow spitballs at you and mocked you for losing crane games, even though he ended up giving you the stupid stuffed animal anyway. that had to be king of the castle, with his stick-sword and cardboard shield. that demanded you be his queen, weeds he picked for you woven carefully into your hair by his hands.

katsuki kisses like he's shy — another term you've never thought of in relation to him and all his fire and brimstone; it's slow and a little delayed in comparison to what his hips are doing, as if he's in his head too much and is trying to figure how to move his lips and when. tentative and chaste, until you run your tongue along the seam of his mouth and pry him open a little more.

it's making you hungry; that possessiveness from before is creeping back in, eager to have him in ways nobody else has. you arch into him, biting at his lips and sighing into his mouth as goosebumps break out across his skin.

with a slant of his head, he deepens the kiss and you can feel his nostrils flaring, the fingernails scratching against your scalp, the bruises he's probably leaving on your thigh. he lets up only to breathe, panting into your ear when he begins to bite and suck on your skin again; your earlobe and neck and even the cut of your jaw. like maybe he's hungry, too.

you fist a hand into his shirt just to tug it up his body, feeling the strong contract of his stomach when your fingers ghost against him. katsuki gets the hint quickly, rising up to his knees to tear the material off — much more harshly than he did before, which has you eying his crinkled bandage — and you move fast to take advantage of the new space.

it gives him pause when you yank down your shorts, pulling your legs back to slip them off and fling them somewhere across the room. his face goes red again, and his heaving chest, too, and his eyelids flutter as he takes in the sight of your flimsy, damp cotton underwear. you start to pull the sweater up your stomach, but he's watching so intently — so ravenous — that you get shy, without a bra underneath the too-hot fabric.

in any other situation, katsuki would have grabbed onto this moment, your hesitation, and held it over your head to come back and poke at. cataloged this little weak spot for future arguments, but now —

not once has he ever been gentle with you in anything; it's enough of a surprise that that's even a possibility for him, for the two of you, but he presses his body back into yours and kisses you deep, calloused fingers tracing over the new skin exposed to him. he doesn't try to push the sweater up any further, but one hand slips up your back, to splay between your shoulder-blades like it had before, and he's so close and you've never known him to be this — careful. with anything.

"y'r so—" katsuki rolls his hips again and groans, whispering against your lips. "fuckin' soft."

his sweatpants are still on and you don't know why, but when you reach down to help tug them off, he grabs your wrist before they can go too far.

he presses the heat from his cheeks into your own, like he wants to share it. "you done this before?"

"have you?"

he frowns at your non-answer. "i asked first."

you have. three times, technically, though a phantom pain echoes in your stomach at the memories, and you feel an odd emptiness in your chest that makes you really glad to have the sweater still on. your answer leaves you a little ashamed, under his gaze, and you purposely turn from it. "would...that bother you?"

before, you wouldn't have cared, didn't care, nor were you even thinking of him when it happened. wherever he must have been; u.a, probably, getting ready to make his lifelong dreams a reality while you trusted a boy that didn't look at you the way katsuki is now. that didn't hold you and touch you and kiss you the way your best friend has.

he scoffs, though it doesn't sound as careless as it usually does and he squeezes his eyes shut so you can't read them. the truth that's hidden there. "no," he lies, "why would—" but he doesn't finish, just sighs.

"it was awful anyway," you tell him, offering a small smile when he peeks down at you. he doesn't say anything, so you kiss him once, twice, until his tension is melting away. "should have been you."

the grip on your thigh turns almost painful and he grinds into you so roughly that you both gasp, loud in the tight, barely-there space between you. "yeah," he rasps, sucking another bruise into the hollow of your throat. "fuckin' should have."

you try to imagine it; eighteen and nervous, naked in front of him for the first time since you were seven and got into paint from his mom's workshop, when she made you both strip down in the same room, furious. how different he might have been with you then, how much more unsure. kinder than your ex, without a doubt, even for katsuki, and he probably wouldn't have even gone through with the whole thing, considering how uncomfortable the first time is.

or maybe it wouldn't have been, with him; maybe he would have looked into it, taken the time to wind you up the same way he is now so that you were eager and wet and ready. looking down at you with his wide, almost-black eyes in the dim light of a table lamp. another first to share.

"if i'd have just," he huffs, allowing his sweats to slip down past his hips. shoulders trembling when he makes you moan out his name again. "fuckin'—grown a pair 'n told you—"

the weight of him becomes more obvious, the straining bulge he's rocking into your core, and seeing it is — really getting to you; wearing such tight boxers, you can tell just how close the pink tip of him is to his waistband, nearly peeking out from just how hard he is.

it takes a shrug to get him out of your shoulder, so you can press your lips back to his. "can still be you, katsuki," you breathe, biting on his bottom lip until his tiny frown is gone. "if you want, it can still be you."

for a minute, he indulges himself in the greedy kiss you're giving him, testing strokes of his tongue against your own as his hips stutter out of rhythm — but it's when your fingers brush through the hair at the base of his stomach, trying to slip a hand into his boxers, that he's gasping into your mouth and pushing his body up and away.

determination settles over his face then — along with his vibrant flush — and he doesn't say anything as he grabs you like it's nothing and scoots you up the couch so that your back is pressed to the arm, propped up. once he settles between your thighs, he just rests his face into the plush of your stomach — which is humiliating and has you squirming, but the firmness returns to his hands; holding your hips so that you'll still, so that he can kiss right above your belly button, just as you wanted to do to him.

heat flares in your own cheeks — and down your chest and in your ears and searing on the back of your neck — when you feel the first puff of his warm breath against your underwear, where you're sensitive and slick and aching.

this is completely new to you; your ex-boyfriend probably never considered tasting you here, certainly not with the same desire that's painted across katsuki's face. you have to slap your hands over your eyes and bite your lip, embarrassed, suddenly, at how desperate the simple press of his mouth to your underwear makes you.

"hey, hey," katsuki grunts, pinching at your hips until you peek at him through your fingers. the highlights of his cheeks are crimson and his eyes are black, glaring with an intensity that makes you shiver. "it's my fuckin' turn."

to make you fall apart, he means, just as he had.

at the first hot drag of his tongue against the material, you squirm, leaning your head back so that your expression is hidden. another grunt comes from him, you think in dissatisfaction, but he continues, laving until your mouth is falling open and the fabric between you is drenched.

he's gone just long enough to be replaced by the ghost of his thumb, touching you much too-gently. hunger has you stealing another look at him, watching behind your hands as he stares, blatantly, at the mess he's already made of you, stroking the pad of his finger against the sodden material in interest.

discovering; a curious swipe over where you're aching has you sighing and trembling and his eyes jump back up to your covered face, open mouth curling into the faintest smirk as he does it again and again and again. it's bullshit — how quickly he's figured you out, almost as if your body was meant to be unraveled by his hands — but then again, it didn't take you long either, did it?

"katsuki," you hiss, digging a hand into the hair at the crown of his head, tugging on it until his smile is dropping and his eyes are lidding. your body is on fire and your legs are trying to close around his head, hips squirming as he toys with you, like the little brat he is.

deadly serious, he grabs your underwear and holds it tightly in his fist so that you can wiggle one leg free, and then he's tugging it out of his way and devouring you whole.

it's sloppy, the mixture of spit and slick as runs his tongue through you, wet and wide, and you're so sensitive that you squeak out in surprise, fingers tightening. a groan punches from deep in his chest and your hips buck at the vibration of it, drawn so tight already.

"oh my—" you gasp, dropping your other hand from your face to grip the couch; eyes closed, you're somewhere else entirely, lost in the clumsy swirl of pleasure between your thighs.

katsuki raises his head to breathe, reaffirming your grip in his hair by wrapping his fingers tight over your own. at the shiny sight of his mouth, you can't help but to whimper with a needy roll of your hips, until he's simply sticking out his tongue and allowing you to ride it, to use it as you need to. it's embarrassing, how desperate you are, but his eyes are knife-sharp and trained on you and you've never experienced anything like this.

he moves then, slipping one hand further up under your sweater, cupping your breast carefully as his lids flutter — and the other is shoved between his hips and where they're pressed into the couch. you tighten up at just the idea of him rutting into his hand while kissing your messy slit, moaning openly, head falling back as your eyes start to roll.

this is — fuck — you've never been so turned on in all your life and it's driving you crazy; at one point in time, the thought of bakugou like this would have grossed you out, but now you think it's only like this because of him. anyone else wasn't right, not the way he is, and he's maybe a little impatient and unwieldy, but it's katsuki. between your legs with his mouth on you — something he wanted — and his fingers are brushing over your nipple and the other is down his pants, wrist flexing and —

"fuck, oh fuck, i—" you try to sit up, chasing blindly after the high, but he forces you back down. a long groan is muffled by your skin and when he lifts his chin just a little, a glob of spit falls off his lips and the sight makes your toes curl before he presses back into you and sucks.

everything goes blank as you free-fall into him and you cum quietly, muscles so taut in your body that your voice can't even squeeze out of your throat. the minute you're able to breathe, he's biting a mark into your thigh and yanking you back down under him, lips slick against yours.

tasting yourself on his tongue has you coming out of the heady haze, ravenous; katsuki helps you to shove his boxers down, though he can only gasp tightly when he grinds against you, coating himself.

"'m not—" his soft hair tickles your face when he shakes his head, arms trembling beside your head. "i won't be able to—"

"keep going," you breathe, smearing your mess over the tip of him and down his length as he groans. "i don't care, keep going."

he smashes his lips to yours, though he's only able to meet the pump of your hand a few times before dropping his forehead to your shoulder, spine curling, fingers digging into your hair. katsuki swears long and low, eventually letting out a soft sound you wouldn't have expected from him as his entire body tenses and he spills onto your stomach.

"goddamn it," he moans into the fabric of your sweater, weary, after a long moment. "now 'm fuckin' tired."

and for some reason that makes you laugh, though the lust is dissipating and your nerves are trembling at the memory of how this ended last time. katsuki pulls away suddenly, making your stomach drop, and he doesn't look at you as he detangles himself, awkwardly shuffling away from the couch and out of sight.

you frown down at the mess on your stomach, the way it's pooling in your belly-button — and you'll be damned to let him leave you like this, but just as you finishing reciting over and over what you want to say, he appears, towel in hand.

it's still damp from his shower and you tense on instinct, waiting for him to start twirling it with that stupid grin on his face, but katsuki only arranges your legs so that he can sit between them, carefully wiping you off as his cheeks burn. and you just watch him, the way he runs a hand over your skin to make sure he got it all before helping to finagle your underwear back on properly.

then he just looks at the tv, unmoving. if he's trying to appear casual at all, it's a piss-poor job — but he's never been able to keep his fat mouth shut for long.

the look he gives you lacks its usual heat, though you can't tell if that's just because he's drained or if he's withdrawn for another reason. "what now? six months, a year before you talk to me again?"

and you're annoyed all over again.

"what?" you return his weak glare, sitting up properly so that you're right in his face. "are you kidding me? you didn't talk to me either."

"the hell did you want me to say?" he scoffs and — you could slap him, for ruining everything so quickly. wipe that stupid look off his face with your fist. "'sorry i busted a nut, you free for dinner?'"

"yeah!" the shrill tone of your voice makes his eyes widen, and you throw your hands up in the air, incensed. "that sounds wonderful in comparison to coming home and avoiding me."

"i didn't avoid you," he mutters, though his eyes drift back to the tv. "just didn't have shit to say."

"bakugou," you slap your hands over your face for the second time, though this one is much worse than the last. "how is that fucking fair? what did you want me to say?"

and now — his eyes are full and furious, mouth curling down into an ugly frown that you've so rarely had the pleasure of seeing on his face; every time his mother made you go home and when you told him you weren't gonna try to test into u.a. when he overheard your girl friends teasing you for liking an older boy in your school.

when he was losing you, you realize.

"'m not doin' this shit with you," he mutters, definitive, before swiping his shirt up off the floor and standing. "not doin' this bakugou shit."

"oh my god," you groan, rising, too, because your stomach is twisting at the thought of him leaving again, no matter how angry he's making you. "what does that even mean?"

you trail him as he stomps into your kitchen to grab his work shirt and mask from the counter, trying to interrupt him at every turn, and the scowl on his face only grows when you shoot to stand in front of the door, just as he reaches for his bag.

"you can't—"

"this," he seethes, gesturing to you and then himself before gritting his teeth so hard that they should shatter. "this is why i didn't wanna fuckin' talk to you."

you knew he didn't. the minute lunch ended and when you made out his shape in mitsuki's snapchat: you knew. but hearing it from his mouth is as much of a confirmation as it is a kick in the gut.

there's more he's struggling to say, mouth shifting as he chews on the words and the skin of his lips. his gaze jumps from you to the door to something on the counter before he's swallowing again, staring down at you with brand new eyes.

the light in the kitchen makes them shine, angry and sad. "i can't—" he sighs, nostrils flaring like he's mad at himself for struggling. "go back to bakugou, not after—" a vague hand waves toward the couch. "maybe this is just, i don't know, whatever to you, but i — fuckin' can't."

tell me what the big fuckin' deal is; earlier, he'd demanded it of you, why the silence mattered so much this time when it didn't seem to matter before. in the midst of your anger, you didn't think twice about his wording but now —

he wanted you to say it. katsuki wanted to hear you say that it hurt to be without him for so long, and he kept his distance because he was afraid that you wouldn't.

"you're so stupid," you mutter it quietly, and his eyebrows shoot up to his hairline, enraged, but before he can get another dumb word out, you loop your arms around his neck and just — kiss him.

not crazy or wild or lust-driven, just your lips to his, slowly working him out of the shell he's tried to hide behind.

the bag in his hand hits the ground with a soft thud and then his arm is wrapping around your back, tugging you to him as he finally breathes and opens his mouth — and lets you in.

when you cup the sides of his neck, katsuki inhales sharply through his nose, pulse jumping under your fingers, and his lashes flutter against your cheeks as he opens his eyes. he pulls back enough so that you can stare at each other and you realize that eyeliner is still clinging to his lids, making him seem sharper than usual.

you're a little stunned, then, at how beautiful he is.

"i can't go back to bakugou either, dumbass." gently, you knock your forehead into his, smiling at the pout on his face. "you've totally screwed that up for me."

"yeah, well," he huffs, "about time. only took you all my goddamn life."

"sorry i'm late."

"what else is new?" he rolls his eyes and you squeak, indignant, before sticking your tongue out at him, patience worn thin already.

you expect a bite or a pinch to the cheek or another rough violence that falls along the lines that have made up your relationship thus far — but instead there is only something soft that reflects in his eyes and the shy kiss he presses to your lips, something that he's kept safe just for you, guarded, with his stick-sword and cardboard shield.

#narrator voice: willow did not have the spoons to extend the ending #whoopsie #okie okie part 2 #✿ willow writes #✿ one shot: bakugou

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theogonies · 1 year

Text

SWEET DESIRE: genshin boys & their kinks

characters: childe, xiao, diluc, & ayato

word count: 1.4k

content warnings: feminine pet names and references to female genitalia; they’re all possessive, just in different ways; breeding kink, corruption kink, mindbreaking/dumbification, overstimulation, semi-public sex, implied dacryphilia (childe); voyeurism and general perviness, somnophilia, implied corruption kink (xiao); overstimulation, restraints, marking, spanking, yandere behavior (diluc); dom/sub relationship, brat taming, dacryphilia, degradation, humiliation, edging, painplay/spanking (ayato); 18+; minors and ageless blogs do not interact

CHILDE

“What’s wrong, ptichka?” He leans down to lap the tears from your cheeks with a smile as condescending as it is kind. “I thought you were ready for this, but we’re only getting started.”

Is it really any wonder that this man has a breeding kink? He’s a family man, after all, and beneath all his bluster, there’s really nothing he wants more than a happy little family of his own to come home to. While he rationally knows that may be out of the picture for as long as he’s a Harbinger, he still can’t help but lose his mind a little at the sight of his come overflowing from your hole. Even better if he gets to fuck it back into you with his fingers to make sure you don’t lose a single drop, humming sweet praises all the while: you're being so good for me, babygirl. Gonna make you a mommy.

Speaking of fingers–Childe is good with his hands. When he really wants to tease you he’ll watch you struggle to drag his gloves off with nothing but your teeth, just so he can use those very hands to fuck into your mouth until you’re a drooling mess, begging for his fingers in your pussy instead. Maybe if he’s feeling nice, he’ll even reward you for your efforts.

He loooooves corrupting good girls. Girls who follow the rules, girls who put responsibility first, girls who take care of everyone else before themselves. He’ll tease you, give you just enough to get your hopes up before backing off and making you plead for his attention. Don’t worry; he won’t break you, at least not on purpose. He just wants to teach you how good it feels to allow yourself to let go and relish in all those dirty, greedy little impulses, the desires that only he can fulfill.

Childe likes it when his partners are vocal during sex, and he’s willing to put in the work to make that happen. He’s a bit of an exhibitionist in general–just another way of making sure there are no doubts in anyone’s minds who you belong to–but it doesn’t matter if you’re in the middle of the Fatui headquarters or some isolated cabin in the mountains, he makes a game out of overstimulating you until you’re a broken, whimpering mess crying his name.

XIAO

“Please–” You can always tell when he’s about to break. He begs so sweetly, his stubborn scowl fading into something soft and needy. “Say it again. Tell me I’m good.”

It shouldn’t come as any kind of surprise that Xiao is a virgin. He’s so afraid of becoming close to others, yet more and more he finds his mind drifting to all those lewd, forbidden places when he’s around you. It’s obvious, too, the way he stares when you bend over to pick something up or the neckline of your shirt dips a little too low; but all the embarrassment and guilt in the world aren’t enough to make him hold back his voyeuristic impulses.

And oh, the moment you realize what’s going on and decide to indulge him, it’s over for Xiao. He’s obsessed with the way you tease him, your hands brushing against his thigh, or lightly steering him by the small of his back, all while you give him that same, trusting smile as always. This is just what friends do, isn’t it?

It takes a long time before he’s able to build up enough trust to let you touch him, but he loves watching you touch yourself. The way your hands, the same ones that have touched him so innocently so many times before, flick at your puffy clit; all those dirty sounds that fill the air; the blissed-out look on your pretty little face when you finally unravel. Witnessing you, being wanted by you–it’s already so much more than Xiao thinks he deserves.

The only think he loves more than feeling like your loyal guardian as you slumber is fucking you when you’re asleep. Sometimes because you’re having a bad dream; sometimes because he just can’t help himself, not when you’re lying so innocently beside him, filling his mind with impure thoughts.

Even at his brattiest, he always, always, always asks permission before coming. Inside of you, on you, even into his own hand. It’s as much about consent for him as it is getting confirmation from you that he’s earned this.

DILUC

“That’s right, precious,” he murmurs, his sonorous voice so unusually soft that you can’t help but shiver from words alone. “Just sit still and let me take care of you.”

Diluc loves giving oral, and he’s a messy eater, too. It’s like your sweet pussy is an aphrodisiac to him; he loses track of time, swirling his tongue around your tender bud and drinking in your taste until he’s left you overstimulated without even trying. He feels genuinely bad about it, too, every time he realizes just how greedy he’s been, how long he’s made you beg and cry for relief–but it’s not enough to keep him from forgetting himself again the next time he goes down on you.

He’s a very giving lover in general; really, he just wants to make you feel good. And, well, the beautiful sight of your tight little pussy creaming around his cock–that’s just a sweet side effect.

It takes a long time to get him to admit to his more taboo desires, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have them. Most of all, he dreams of seeing you strung up; from the frame of his bed in the winery, or even more shamefully, from the rafters of his tavern (long after close, of course–no one else deserves to see something so beautiful). As much as he consciously respects your freedom and independence, there’s a dark part of him that wants to keep you safe and protected, somewhere only he can reach you.

He likes seeing his marks on your skin, too. Hickeys, mostly, but he’s not entirely above punishing you more thoroughly if he decides you’ve been a little too flirty with his patrons or too risky in your adventures. He apologizes every time his hand comes down on your ass, and yet he can’t hide how hard the sight of your soft and rippling skin makes him when it flushes and begins to bruise.

AYATO

“I’m sorry, doll, but you know the rules.” His lip trail gently across the marks left by his own hand only moments ago, reminding you that your master is just as forgiving as he is merciless. “Now, are you ready to be a good girl and do as you’re told?”

Do I even need to say that Ayato is a mean dom? He loves the thrill of the chase, learning exactly what makes his partner tick just so he can break them down. The worst part is how composed he remains through it all, like his twisted desire to see you squirm is just another of his odd little jokes.

His technique in bed is no less refined than his skill with a sword, either; he’s mastered the delicate art of pushing your limits without breaking them, testing your devotion to him with every slap and caress until you’re putty in his hands.

While Ayato demands absolute loyalty from his partners from the start, he doesn’t mind putting in the work to tame bratty subs; in fact, he likes it better that way. The more headstrong and stubborn you are, the easier it is for him to ensure that you’re all his by the time he’s finished molding you into the perfect toy.

He isn’t opposed to using pain as a punishment, but in most cases, he prefers withholding what he knows you want. He’ll edge you until you’re a sobbing wreck, begging for his cock; and as much as he knows he should hate to see you suffer like this, nothing makes him as hard as the sight of your pretty little face streaming with tears. Before he gives you your sweet release, he makes you beg for it, promising him you’ll be good from now on, that you’ve learned your place as his dumb little whore.

Ayato loves putting you in all kinds of degrading positions: cockwarming him in his office, touching yourself while he watches, humping the smooth leather of his shoes as you beg him to touch you properly. He likes knowing he’s the only one with the privilege of seeing you this way: flushed, humiliated, needy. His.

#don't worry fluff wanters i have something for yall coming soon <3 #ronan writes #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #diluc x reader #ayato x reader #childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #ajax x reader #xiao x reader #genshin headcanons #genshin smut

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