#if they obeyed the rules of driving perhaps i would not care
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illegal dirtbike people who do not obey traffic laws I hate you I hate you I hate you
#if they obeyed the rules of driving perhaps i would not care#but if you're gonna nearly run me over while I'm crossing the road because you're zooming 60mph the wrong way on a one way street on a red#you deserve to be pelted with tomatoes in the stocks medieval style
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Come Hell or High Water
Rating: Explicit
Archive Warning: Rape/Non-Con
Category: F/M
Fandom: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!
Relationships: Main Character/Asmodeus
Characters: Asmodeus, Main Character
Additional Tags: afab!mc (she/her), noncon, non-consensual drug use, somnophilia, size difference, vaginal fingering, victim blaming, vaginal sex, Asmo is delusional as hell, fic follows the ‘demons will be demons’ rules so don’t expect anyone to be good here
Summary: There’s a new human living in the House of Lamentation and Asmodeus is not impressed. That is, until the day he finds that she isn’t charmed just from being in his mere presence. He’s never seen someone who hasn’t fallen for him instantly in some way before and it drives him mad. If she won’t fall for him on her own, he’ll have to pull some strings to make her fall for him, one way or another. After all, it’s not his fault that she chose to do things the hard way…
A/N: Thanks for the request and for being patient with me! Not going to lie, I love addictive cum as a monster fucking/magic concept. I went a bit on the darker end for this one (as in, this is where demons live and they will do what they want while using whatever reasoning justifies their actions). Dark fics heal my tired brain.
Word Count: 2.8k
He didn’t care for her at all. Not at first. She was just another human out of the billions that should have been prostrating themselves before him for a microsecond of his attention. Worse yet? She wasn’t even interesting in a way that made her stand out among the rest of the rabble. If anything, she started as far less interesting than a common rodent because at least they scurried about and terrified people who were so much larger than them. She, on the other hand, had no magic, no talent, and a perfectly average face – although everyone was average at best when compared to him.
But perhaps he had judged her too quickly. After all, when Asmodeus looked deep into her eyes to charm her, she felt absolutely nothing. It was as if he was just another person to her. It was new to have someone who wasn't immediately taken in by his alluring eyes and that only made him want to chase her all the more. After all, it wasn't often he met a challenge like her and he wanted to savor the hunt while he found a way to break her down.
If that way was by using a few tools to help awaken the feelings she should have had, who could fault him? It was, after all, his right to be adored by everyone who saw him and she was the one breaking the terms of that unspoken agreement. She should have simply given into his powers to begin with if she didn’t want this outcome to occur.
So he asked Satan, oh so sweetly as brothers do, to find him a potion or a cursed object that would – hypothetically, of course – put someone in a dazed state that wasn’t quite asleep but also wasn’t aware enough to fight against anything that may be happening around them.
Satan gave him some sweet, refreshing smelling incense the next day – no questions asked because he literally didn’t care what Asmodeus was going to use them for.
Asmodeus smiled at her with a sickeningly sweet smile as he played out the events of tonight on repeat in his head. If any of his brothers noticed that he was clearly planning something they didn’t say a word – because, again, they really did not care. The human should have learned on her own by now that she couldn’t trust any demon in the Devildom and that there wasn't a single one of them that was completely harmless– aside from Mammon, but he was too stupid to realize that Asmodeus had something in mind for their houseguest.
Normally, he would be one to go to bed early to ensure that he got enough sleep to maintain his skin's healthy, youthful glow, but tonight was special. Tonight was his precious first time with his human that would make them irrevocably fall for him. They just had to fall asleep first so he could begin.
After the house went dark and quiet, Asmodeus left his room dressed only in his silk sleeping robe. The halls creaked loudly with each step – or, it seemed loud because of just how silent everything else was. The building was so still that the only noise as he walked to her room came from the gentle snores of his brothers, the settling frame of the house, and Beelzebub's obnoxious barely conscious munching coming from the kitchen as he passed by.
It was as if the entire world slowed down just for him – just for this moment – and would ensure nothing got in his way.
He didn't hesitate to turn her doorknob. He didn't think twice to open it and slip inside once he found it was unlocked. He also didn't stop his thoughts from turning to delight at her naive foolishness in trusting a house full of demons enough to leave her door unlocked in the middle of the night.
With nimble fingers, he withdrew a sweet-smelling ball of reddish-purple grass from the pocket of his robe and turned it over in his hands to examine it.
Satan had said that if he planned to use it – again, hypothetically– it would need to be lit and allowed to smolder rather than burn. The smoke it let off wouldn't affect a conscious person, but anyone that was already in a dazed state would be unable to come out of it. He just needed to wait ten minutes after lighting it for the smoke to get into her system.
So he lit it and waited.
Ten minutes later, when he was certain she had inhaled enough of the smoke for it to be dancing through her bloodstream, Asmodeus dragged his fingers over the tightly pulled fabric of the t-shirt she had worn to bed, tracing intricate patterns across her body and savoring her little unconscious whines and whimpers that told him that she was deep enough under not to wake up but not so far under to be entirely unresponsive. In fact, he couldn't help but smirk victoriously as her pretty nipples began to poke through the fabric straining to hold them back.
"Does it feel good?" Asmodeus song-sang as he slipped a hand under the hem of her shirt.
His fingers danced along the smooth expanse of her skin, traveling over her slowly rising and falling tummy until he met her breast and could feel its weight in his hand.
Her soft, delicate moans were music to his ears.
"You're simply ravishing, my dear. Not as beautiful as me, of course, but I won't hold that against you." He cupped her breast and gave it a taunting squeeze. "Not so long as you don't mind me holding you in return."
He licked his lips, practically salivating at the sight of her lying there so completely vulnerable. She couldn't say it with her own voice, but he knew he was making her feel good with just his caresses by the way her mouth gently opened and moans poured out.
"Shh. You'll wake up the others if you're too loud and I don't want to ruin our private moment."
Every ticking second made him shiver in anticipation. If any part of his plan fell apart, if she suddenly resisted the incense or if one of his brothers suddenly decided to care about his strange behavior, he may have found himself in a compromising position. As things stood, however, she was helplessly shackled to her own vulnerability and he had free reign to do with her as he pleased. And, oh, it would be his pleasure to make her fall for him at last, one way or another.
"You're so lucky," he cooed in hushed tones as he leaned in close to make sure she heard him, even in her dazed state. "No one ever gets my attention like this. No one except you."
He grabbed the fabric of her shirt in his fist and pulled the bottom up high until her breasts spilled out and he could admire her bare chest in full.
"Is playing hard to get fun? It must be, because there's no other reason for you to be so frigid with me." His voice was laced with venom, even as he smiled. "Don't worry. You'll love me soon and then we'll be the best of friends."
Asmodeus' mouth latched onto one of her nipples and began to suck. Down below, his hand slipped past the band of her pajama pants and slid into her underwear to rub his fingers over her clit.
The way he touched her wasn't kind. He didn't mean for it to be. Even though he wanted her to fall for him, he also had a bruised ego that demanded retribution. That's why he didn't mind sucking on her chest a little too hard or pressing on her clit so violently that, as he massaged it, her whimpering turned to expressionless crying.
He bit the hardening nub that rose to meet him before flicking his tongue across it to soothe whatever pain he may have caused. Then he bit her again for the joy of knowing he could do whatever he wanted without her protesting. Pliant partners that he could do as he wished with were truly the best. She would learn that soon enough.
His fingers left her throbbing clit and slithered down her slit until he found her entrance. Slowly, he began to push two of his fingers – an amount that was clearly too much for her given how forcefully her body fought not to open for him – into her wet hole. He forced her to take him all the way to the knuckle so he could feel her deepest parts, so he could assault and train her body the way he liked it.
"Isn't this nice?" he chuckled as he pinched her opposite nipple with his unused hand. "Even though you act so cold toward me, your body is greedy for more."
And that was enough.
Asmodeus kept touching her until her thighs were slick with her own juices and her body trembled as it stretched to accommodate him.
He would have lost himself completely to simply touching her and indulging in her warmth, but, just as he was delving deeper into her, he heard an almost imperceptibly low groan. It was the kind of thrusting groan one only made when they were rudely awoken from a night of restless sleep, and it was coming from her.
He stopped playing with her chest to look at her face.
She was still expressionless, clearly entirely unaware of what was happening, but her eyes were somehow staring directly at him. Even in her barely conscious state, it looked like she was accusing him.
Just beneath his robe, his cock pulsed with desire.
"You can't wait, can you? Don't worry. I won't tease you any more." He pulled back his hands – her dripping pussy making a lewd squelching sound that made him shake with delight as he withdrew his fingers – and moved to open his robe.
As the silken garment fell to the ground, his lithe body -- still so much larger than hers by quirk of being a demon despite him being shorter than the rest of his brothers -- trembled. If he had any sense of shame, he may have hesitated to show off what she'd done to him; that her constant game of cat and mouse had gotten him so riled up that finally catching her made him so hard he couldn't hide it.
"Look what you've done," he chastised with a song in his voice and a smile on his face as he spread her legs open wide and settled between them. "Now, be a good little human and take responsibility for what you've done."
He thrust his hips forward, sinking deep into her warmth with one movement and moaning at how tightly she squeezed him. The moment he was inside of her, it felt like he'd found something he didn't know he'd been missing. It was like her pussy was made to cradle his dick and her body molded itself just for him.
How could a human, especially one as mediocre as her, feel so perfect?
Asmodeus rolled his hips against her, groaning each time the tip of his cock kissed the back of her warm walls. He loved the feeling of her so much that he wanted to rip her open and feel every part of her in full.
"Were you planning to hide your sinful body from me forever," he babbled as he started to slam into her at a frantic pace, "or were you just playing hard to get?"
Wake up.
He wanted her to fight against the smoke running through her veins and wake up so she could see firsthand how her body was being changed to fit him; how she was being changed to adore him. He wanted her to understand why she couldn't fight her desires to worship his very existence after tonight. Once he was finished with her, she would be better; she would be another of his admirers.
Once he left a part of himself inside of her, her fate would be sealed. Even she wouldn’t be able to fight against his charm once it infected her from the inside, greedily accepted by her most intimate place.
He placed her hands on either side of her face and smiled down at her with manic glee. "Are you watching? Can you see how you’re falling for me?"
He knew she wasn’t, not in any meaningful way at least, but it didn’t make him any less giddy, especially not when she unconsciously started cumming around his cock. She was going to be his. This human who had fought against his charms for so long was going to fall for him at last and then there really wouldn’t be a person in any realm who didn’t desire him. She would be the jewel in his crown of sycophants. He would indulge her needs for the rest of her life, even if only to remind himself how it felt to achieve something seemingly impossible each time he sunk into her pleading cunt.
That was all he needed to think about in order to find his eventual release. He rammed into her one last time, pressing against her as he emptied everything he had deep inside of her warmth.
The following day, after he had left her in that spoiled bed of hers with her used and abused hole dripping his seed, he was all smiles. His cheer was sickening and over exaggerated, even for him, but he didn’t care; he was too pleased with himself to let anything bring down his mood.
It wasn’t until his precocious little human came to join the family meal that he really felt accomplished though. She looked awful, eyes red from tears and face sunken in absolute misery. When Lucifer asked what was wrong with her, however, she couldn’t answer him. She took one glance – a knowing one – at Asmodeus and turned on her heels to escape the entire situation. It was adorable how she didn’t even try to explain herself. So adorable that he couldn’t help but barge into her room after he’d convinced the others to let him be the one to check on her – a simple task because no one else beside Mammon wanted to do it, and he was easy to outplay.
Asmodeus was also disappointed that her door still wasn’t locked. Even after experiencing firsthand the consequences of leaving herself so exposed, she still didn’t take precautions. Of course, it could also be that she was inviting him inside in her own way.
And what an invitation it was.
The entire room reeked of sex as soon as he stepped inside. It was so much stronger than when he’d left her last night, and it wasn’t hard to figure out why as he neared the human-sized pile of sheets on the bed. The most delightful moans and whimpers came from below the sheets as they shook.
He grabbed the edge of the sheets.
“If you’re going to put on a show,” he yanked the covers away from her and was pleased to find her hand down her pants as he expected, “you need an audience.”
The little yelp she made as she tried to pull her hand away in an attempt to hide her actions was music to his ears.
Her attempt to smack him was not, however.
“None of that now.”
He had to grab her wrists to stop her from flailing about and potentially scratching his beautiful face.
He moved both of her wrists to one hand – the benefit of being a species that was so much larger than hers.
“You were looking last night, weren’t you? You experienced firsthand how wonderful it was to lie with me. No one and nothing will ever make you feel that good ever again.”
With his now free hand, he ran a single finger along her clothed sex and watched as her eyes rolled back in her head and her entire body convulsed in pleasure. She looked so much like a dying animal twitching before it finally expired that it made him laugh.
“You’re so cute like this, but I’m not so cruel to leave you frustrated forever.” His smile went far too wide and a glint of pure malice, evil, and desire twinkled in his eyes. “Beg nicely and I’ll show that pleasure again.”
As soon as her body stopped twitching, she looked at him with hazy eyes that could only show just how ruined she really was. Somewhere in the very back of her mind, she had to know that there was no coming back from the euphoria she’d been shown. Even if she hated it and cursed his very existence, no one could go back to their everyday normal after experiencing the best that all of eternity would have to offer.
Her lips parted only enough to let out a small squeak of a request. “Lord Asmodeus, won’t you let me feel your lust one more time?”
#2af writes#obey me smut#asmodeus smut#afab fic#cw noncon#cw somnophilia#cw size difference#cw victim blaming#cw vaginal penetration
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Fireside
Fandom - Obey Me!
Pairing - Lucifer x gn!reader
Summary - "I can't have you being hurt." "Don't worry, nobody can hurt me as much as you did."
Warnings - Angst and no fluff whatsoever <3 mentions of drinking, implied horny times.
Wordcount - 1200
A/N - the fastest I've ever written anything tbh, and I'm happy with it. Yes I made up some demon names in there. No, I don't care if Lucifer doesn't curse so spontaneously, he's feeling feels ok, give him a break. Hope you all like it!
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You knew what you were doing. And you knew what Lucifer would say when he’d find out. It wasn’t as if you didn’t care. The rules were there only for your safety, after all, you understood that. But the House of Lamentation had gotten suffocating in the past few days. It felt as if the very air of your room was leaden, laced with painful poison that was difficult to gulp and harder to stomach. It was not just your room though; you seemed to find ways to think about him everywhere, and it was driving you crazy.
So when Asmo had told you about a ‘casual’ get-together party at The Fall with a former business partner, you had pounced on the chance. Now, while you were not regretting it, you were certainly a bit disappointed. You had expected a bit of reprieve from the raging sea of thoughts that always plagued your head, the haven of blankness that usually accompanied when you let yourself indulge in the loud music of the club.
Instead, here you were, sitting alone at the brightly lit bar, swirling Lucifer’s favourite cocktail in your hand, and trying and failing to find Asmo in the bouncing crowd. He had introduced you to the host, a beaming, beak-nosed man that had shaken your hand a little more intensely than you had been expecting, shortly after arriving. They had gone away for a chat, and gotten lost it seemed. You didn’t mind, not entirely. You had a comfortable seat, no one had tried to eat you yet, and there was decent music playing.
You touch the cool drink to your lips, enjoying the sweet ripple that shimmies across your tongue, and pluck the tiny red umbrella that decorated the rim. You fiddle with it absentmindedly, doing another survey of the dance floor for Asmo and his wavy pink hair. Behind it, all the way at the entrance, you catch eyes with Lucifer, his black cape another shadow against the dark door.
Your heart jumps to your throat, the taste of the sweet cocktail resurfacing in your mouth. You remember the cut of his face against a black night a week ago; the feel of his bare skin when you had touched his wrist and tried to get him to meet eyes with you. Diavolo’s gazebo had highlighted your still figures in blue, the water reflecting back an image of a couple that never was.
He had refused to look at you, keeping his head turned and away towards the moonlit water. He had twined your hands together, fingers locking so beautifully. And then he had pulled away, turned, and walked back inside. His cape was left on your shoulders. The letter inside had verbalized all that he couldn’t.
And you had tried, god, you had tried. But it was so damn difficult to be near him, to sit in the same class three desks away and pretend that you weren’t admiring the sway of his bangs as he wrote. It was so damn difficult to pretend you weren’t hopelessly in love with him and that the sight of him so far away yet so hauntingly close didn’t ground your heart to dust every time you woke up.
Perhaps it’s the recollection of that memory that dulls your earlier spike of fear, or maybe the cocktail had finally taken effect. You turn around and down the rest of it, then get up and dust off your clothes. What could he do to you now anyway? Your heart was already broken.
You take your time in reaching him, fiddling idly with the little umbrella you had kept, and eye the dancing demons in trepidation; you never know when one would take a tumble sideways and straight onto an innocent passerby. When you do reach Lucifer, he exits the club without a word. You follow him, breathing in the cold rough air of Devildom as the music becomes muffled.
You thought he might create a portal home or fly there, but instead, he starts walking, manoeuvring around a bunch of handsy couples pressed against walls, and towards the House of Lamentation. You hasten, catching up to him just as he turns the corner into a broad alley. He had shrugged off his cape, making to pull his arms free when you halt him, shaking your head. “There’s no need.”
He stares at you for a moment, steps slowing minutely, before shrugging it back on. You know he’s angry, there’s a slight flush to his cheeks, a subtle tenseness in his jaw that tells you all you might want to know. You don’t care though. He could be angry all he wanted. You weren’t hurt, had a grand total of one drink, and were having a good time. There was no need for him to ruffle his feathers so much about it.
Soon, you turn another corner onto the main road and the Devildom moon appears in your sight. You sigh, remembering how you had hoped to kiss Lucifer under it a week ago. And then you had confessed, and your fantasies had been slapped into inexistence.
“What were you thinking?” he grounds out suddenly. His voice scrapes on its way out, deeper, angrier. “You could have been hurt.”
“But I wasn’t,” you reply instantly.
“You could have been!” Lucifer halts, spinning to meet blazing eyes with you. “There were all kinds of predators in that club: bloodsuckers, incubi, soul snatchers; everyone stronger than you. What were you fucking thinking?”
“I wasn’t, alright!” you say, staring up into his fiery dual-toned eyes. “I wanted out of that goddamn house of yours and I got a chance, so I fucking took it! And I wasn’t hurt; nobody wanted anything to do with me. I’m fine, no thanks to you.”
Lucifer sucks in a deep exhale, looking down at you. The moon rises up behind, just as big and beautiful as him. “Why are you doing this?”
“Why am I doing this?” you say, “Why are you doing this? You don’t care remember. You’re not supposed to care about me. Or don’t you remember that now? I wasn’t enough for you, so why are you here, Lucifer, why did you even bother coming? You could have just—”
“BECAUSE I DO CARE!” he yells. “I care more than anyone else in that fucking club did. I care more than you know. When I am not supposed to. Loving you, caring for you, it will bring nothing but pain to us both. I can’t do it. We—”
“—can’t be together,” you finish, feeling the breeze touch the pain gathered in your eyes. “I know that...I’ve heard that before.”
You start walking again, wiping away the tear that slips down your cheek.
“Please just—” Lucifer clears his throat, his steps heavy behind you in the grieving night. He catches hold of your arm, halting you but doesn’t make you turn. “Please don’t put yourself in dangerous situations. I can’t have you being hurt.”
“Don’t worry, Lucifer.” You stare down at the touch of his gloved hand, so familiar yet so foreign now. “Nobody can hurt me as much as you did.”
#lucifer x gn!reader#lucifer x reader#lucifer x you#lucifer#om! lucifer#lucifer angst#obey me#darkly and divinely written#obey me x reader#obey me shall we date#lucifer obey me#omswd lucifer#omswd#obey me angst
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Arcana Twilight boys (+ summoner) in Mid Eartheim
Content: If the gang went on a road trip (i saw an obey me version and i had to do it sorry if it sounds similar)
Warnings: None that you should be concerned about, some Sirius abuse perhaps
Spica
he sits at the front passenger seat on the right (steering wheel on the left)
he and Vega fought for that spot, but Spica insisted, so Vega sits directly behind him
initially, he wanted to drive, but Summoner insisted, so he was stuck with the passenger seat, not that he was going to settle for anything less
nobody can convince him otherwise
he can take over if you're feeling tired of driving
it honestly can't be just me that finds the music on the radio terrible, please get him spotify premium so that his ears will survive the trip
luckily for him, Vega isn't a nuisance
he'll be fine, he's used to sitting down for long periods of time to do work, but he would still appreciate rest stops
you can hear this old man's joints crack when he stretches
he'll survive don't worry
Vega
he sits in the middle row, extreme right, directly behind Spica and in front of Alpheratz and next to Arcturus
he tried to get the passenger seat, but he lost to Spica so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
he will try to talk to you and engage in conversation
he will also advise you to be careful when driving, he doesn't want to end up in a car accident within the first 1km
"Summoner...please slow down. You're going over speed limit"
which means other bad drivers worry him as well
would blow up other cars if it means you won't be injured
talks to Arcturus sometimes
just looks out the window most of the time
more spotify premium for this one as well
at rest stops he'd definitely try to talk to you before anyone else (read: Sirius) takes your attention away
im sure he'll be fine
Arcturus
sits in the middle row, in the middle, in between Vega and Pollux
initially i wanted to put him in the back, but poor boy is uncomfy around Sirius, and Alpheratz isn't really gonna talk to him
might as well put him with Poll and Veggie
i think i just saved his life there
insert Arcky appreciation here
he would be super chill though, he would definitely strike conversation with you
might bring some knitting tools along to help pass the time, maybe also more spotify premium for the orange boy
talks to Pollux a lot too, as well as Vega
we love Arcky
would chat with you during rest stops
he's our lucky charm honestly, couldn't survive without him
Pollux
sits in the middle row, extreme left, directly behind Summoner, in front of Sirius and next to Arcturus
stars help this boy
Sirius would be kicking his seat like the sadistic little shit that he is
he and Sirius would be constantly arguing
more like Poll getting mad and Sirius laughing at him
he tried to stick his head out the window when Summoner was going way over speed limit and bro got absolutely annihilated
he says Sirius was the one who asked him to do it
rip pretty pink hair 😔
would always turn back to fight with Sirius, which makes them both 90% of the noise combined
cannot wait to get to rest stops, he cannot stay still
would buy a shit ton of candy and just pile it up because he's a tiny pink gremlin
he learned his lesson and only stuck his hair out the window only when Summoner is obeying traffic rules
Alpheratz
sits in the back row, extreme right, next to Sirius and directly behind Vega
he chose the back because it was the most quiet-ish, and it was dark enough for him to nap
brings along a neck pillow and leans on the side of the car
also brings noise-cancelling headphones, because Pollux and Sirius (plus spotify premium)
if the trip is long, he'd sleep through majority of the drive
the others would have to drag him out during rest stops
is super chill
has an arm wrapped around a handle or his seatbelt in case Summoner decides that it would be a fine day to drive recklessly
wouldn't bother anyone, bro would be asleep most of the time anyways
100% chance of surviving
Sirius
oh stars here we go
i have a lot to say about this one
he sits in the back row, extreme left, next to Alpheratz and directly behind Pollux
he wanted to sit close to Summoner, but by majority votes, he has been put at the very back
Vega suggested taping Sirius to the roof of the car, and Pollux was fully supportive
however neither Summoner nor Spica wanted to be pulled over by the cops so the back seat was the next best option
annoys the crap out of everyone, especially Pollux and Summoner
kicks Poll's seat because he is a menace to society
backseat driving intensifies
"Summoner, what if you turned around very abruptly and started charging in the opposite direction extremely quickly?"
"I'm not gonna do that."
"You're no fun, Summoner~"
"I hate you"
"♡~"
(cue very intense glaring at Sirius through the rearview mirror by Veggie)
tries to snatch Summoner away from Vega at rest stops
denies it when Pollux accuses him of making him stick his head out the window the first time
"How dare you accuse me of doing such a thing. I would never engage in behavior as such. Summoner, you believe me don't you?"
"MC DON'T LISTEN TO HIM, HE'S LYING"
(insert sighing here)
that one time Summoner was tired of driving, Sirius tried to take the driver's seat before being stopped and lectured by Spica
we would certainly have higher chances of survival without Sirius, but then again where's the fun in that :)
Bonus
yes Summoner would break random traffic rules on their own, but immediately goes back to being a good driver when Sirius tried to egg them on
They all just share one spotify premium family account, so its way cheaper (because we're all broke 😔)
they discovered halfway through the trip that Castor had snuck in and was hiding in the trunk in the form of a cat
Pollux almost beat the shit out of Castor
(no Castors were harmed in the making of these headcanons)
#arcana twilight#arcana twilight spica#arcana twilight vega#arcana twilight arcturus#arcana twilight pollux#arcana twilight alpheratz#arcana twilight sirius#arcana twilight headcanons
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You are fr the funniest person I seen write about obey me 💀 if I can request ~ what if MC is learning how to drive and the brothers are in the passenger seat either wanting to witness this chaos or helping MC?? Like MC slamming on the breaks, quick sharp turns and other stuff hehe ~ ty
Hit the Brakes, MC-!
(Feat. GN!MC and the Demon Bros)
✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦
Lucifer
There is a reason only he and Mammon own a car. Despite being a moron, he's the only one Lucifer could trust to handle it responsibly, more or less. But you insist on learning, for some reason, and we all know the old man is weak to your mysterious MC charms.
He was confident in his ability to teach you properly, even as you put your deadly hands on the steering wheel.
Lucifer gives pretty clear and direct instructions, so it’s easy for you to catch on. After you give him an aneurysm, of course.
Never in his life has Lucifer gripped a car door so hard. He swore you were going to blaze through a red light at an intersection, but instead you slammed the brakes so hard his head nearly flew off from the whiplash.
“...PERHAPS it would be best for you to slow down BEFORE you’re only a foot away from your stop, hm? There’s no need to be in such a hurry. At this rate, we might have to practice for longer than I’d thought...”
Mammon
There's no way in hell anyone but MAMMON would be allowed to hop into the driver's seat of his precious Demonio 666 Lexura!
That is, unless your name happens to be MC. Then all you've gotta do is bat your lashes a couple of times and she's all yours to take for a spin. B-but only for a little while, so don’t get too cozy!
And now he's deeply regretting that. You know how he usually jumps into things without thinking first? Yeah, that's this. His instructions are less technical and more casual and easy to understand, but it’ll take a little more finesse before you’re ready for that license.
His poor Demonio... He nearly had a heart attack with how wide your turn was around a curb. He thought the two of you were gonna flip over or something! THIS IS NOT A GO CART MC-
“OI! W-w-watch that curb! Don’t go gettin’ any scratches in the- UWAH!! What the hell are ya lookin’ at?! That’s red! RED!!!”
Levi
With the amazing innovations of virtual reality technology, and a sprinkle of magic, the possibilities of what you can do in a game are endless! That being said, it’s obvious you’d be able to take your driving lessons to VR without worrying about a lack of realism. That’s the only way Levi would teach you anyway-
He doesn’t have to worry about you crashing and exploding either, since it’s only a game! Yet...despite knowing that, Levi is suddenly fearing for his life....
His instructions consist of gamer slang so good luck deciphering all of that lmao
Levi prays to whoever’s up there that might be listening, because when you took a turn so sharp you nearly did a donut, he thought he was about to be welcomed into the arms of the Lord. He’s trying SO hard not to be a backseat gamer driver, but you’re seriously killing him, MC...
“Maybe if you- LOOK OUT!! U-uwaaah.... Don’t go so fast next time! And if you need to take a turn- WATCH OUT FOR THOSE NPCS!!!!"
Satan
He’s read enough to know how to operate a wide variety of vehicles, but book smarts can only take you so far. If you’re looking to pass your written test, he’s your man. The driving part? Uhh...
Satan likes to think he’s got a lot of patience, especially when it comes to you. But your hard stops and jerky starts are going to make him go insane.
Regardless, he clears his throat and tries again. His advice can be a little overwhelming sometimes, but at least he's good at teaching you the road rules? So you don't have any trouble with blazing through stop signs.
Yeah... There's no spells he knows of that could give you a hand in your driving. This'll take some careful practice, and Satan might not be the best guy for the job considering he's never actually operated a vehicle.
“I thought I wouldn’t have any trouble teaching you, but I never realized how complicated driving can be. There’s a lot that wasn’t included in the books, and- ah, don’t look so glum. It’s fine if you put a few dents in the car. This is Lucifer’s, remember?”
Asmo
Bold of you to assume this twink knows how to drive. Asmo likes being the passenger more than the driver, you know?
So when you ask HIM of all people to teach you to drive, he’s not so sure if he’ll be a big help. But who could say no to that adorable face of yours? Certainly not him.
But now he’s wishing he did once you get behind the wheel and kick it into light speed. He was hoping for a leisurely cruise through the streets of the Devildom, not a fight for his gotdamn life-
Driving advice? Yeah no, he's way too busy trying to fix his hair in the car's mirror. If he's going to be displayed all over the Devildom, he has to look good! Though your hard stops that shake the life out of him don't really help-
“MC dear, d-do you think you could drive a little slower? My hair is going to be ruined at this rate.... Ugh... the wind is drying out my skin... Let's ask someone else for help next time, okay?"
Beel
what’s a car-
Uh, can Beel even drive? Does he fit in a car comfortably?? Maybe you should ask someone else. He likes being active, and all his favorite food stops are within walking distance, so there’s not much of a need to go for a drive, is there?
But he’s glad to be there for emotional support regardless, since you need a plus one in order to go anywhere. He doesn't react to your rough handling of the car, so you don't have to worry about a screaming passenger. Lucky!
You’re also gonna get a LOT of parking experience with how frequently Beel asks you to stop. All this driving is making him hungry.
“Could we stop by Uncle Demon’s? I’d like to bring some donuts home. Oh, and AkuDonald’s is having a buy one get one special on their meals. Let’s go to Hell’s Kitchen, too. A black tapir sandwich with tartar sauce sounds good...”
Belphie
Another twink who may or may not know how to drive. Has he even touched a steering wheel before? He’s watched Mammon and Levi play driving games if that counts for anything.
Also prefers to be the passenger, so he doesn’t really mind going for a ride with you. A carefree car ride puts him to sleep right away. As does everything else.
Yeah, he’s not much help when it comes to actual, useful driving advice. This man is knocked out the moment you hit the gas, and snores the entire way down the road.
It’s a good thing he’s such a heavy sleeper so he won’t be subjected to your lack of driving skills, but you can’t help but wince every time you hit the breaks a little too hard and his head thumps against the car’s interior-
“Hm..? We’re home already? I guess I slept the entire way and didn’t notice. I’d say it was a good nap, but for some reason I’ve got a splitting headache...”
#obey me#obey me!#obey me shall we date#obey me! shall we date?#shall we date? obey me!#shall we date obey me#obey me writing#obey me scenarios#obey me headcanons#obey me imagines#obey me lucifer#obey me mammon#obey me levi#obey me leviathan#obey me satan#obey me asmo#obey me asmodeus#obey me beel#obey me beelzebub#obey me belphie#obey me belphegor
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Subject: RAPTOR
Nomu!Hawks x Reader (NSFW)
This GIANT is the lovechild of this amazing fanart and this ask:
I twisted the shizznit out of that ask, but the inspiration is still there. A thank you to anyone who makes it through this very long ride.
This fic does takes some liberties in the creation of nomu. Some factors will deviate from canon.
Words: 20k+
You can also read this long-ass story on AO3 if that’s more comfortable.
Heed these warnings: Blood and Death, Teratophilia/Monster-Fucking, Breeding, Mutant Genitalia, Unethical Experimentation, Mutilation, lots of handjobs and cum, LOTS of long tongue action and I’m ashamed, Brief Suicide Ideation, and Shitty Science
——–x——–
Fertile nomu were the greatest breakthrough that the villains could ever hope for. Breeding saves so much time and resources, as opposed to artificially creating each specimen from scratch. There were two major “programs”, as these sick bastards insist on calling them.
The Mating Program, where the nomu were paired together, one with male sexual organs and the other with those of a female, though there was also the occasional subject that managed to possess both. It was an unpredictable process; miscarriages were common, sometimes the offspring dies minutes after birth, or the fetus develops too rapidly inside the womb and the birth becomes a violent bursting out of the parent’s body. Weaker nomu, usually the ones incapable of rapid regeneration, have been killed from such incidents. “What a waste,” those bastards in lab coats would say.
And then there was the Milking Program, in which semen was collected to later be frozen or artificially inserted into ‘other creatures’. Yeah, they say it as if ninety percent of those creatures weren’t humans.
You were an unwilling member of the latter program, but the assholes sure did love making it sound like they were doing you a favor.
“This entire precinct is yours,” they said. “Your very own farm of all-powerful beasts!”
Gee, thanks. Just what you always wanted, to jerk off abominations and collect their cum. To be fair, it could be worse. At least you weren’t one of the unlucky ones being impregnated. Your possession of a quirk, albeit a mostly useless one, probably saved you from that fate. Those without a quirk had a higher chance of passing down all of the Nomu’s abilities. Just another addition to the long list of Why Being Quirkless Fucking Sucks.
The weaker and simpler nomu aren’t an issue. A sort of imprinting drives them to obey your every command. Hell, jerking them off isn’t even needed — you can literally just order them to ejaculate, and the damn things are spewing out their putrid seed before you can even prepare your containers.
The most troublesome part of your “job” was the High Ends. They are powerful, sentient, and God help you, have an actual sex drive. They were obedient to an extent, but you can’t hold complete control over something that was specifically designed for independent thinking. You were responsible for only five of these advanced nomu, and that was too many. The touchy bastards always wanted more than just a handjob, vocalizing their lust through distorted throats. The long, beastly groans of “inside” and “give pussy” echoed in your head throughout the day and into the night.
These things can literally pound you into mush, and the very thought of carrying their horrifying children makes your throat burn with rising bile. You don’t believe it’s worth risking your life just to please their monster dicks.
That was all before they introduced you to a new ‘pet’. You stood in the hallway of your assigned area of the old hospital and watched two approaching figures. Ugh, another damn High End to make things more difficult, but this one made your heart skip a beat.
Most of the creature’s body was a solid black, just like the rest within its tier. It was more slender than the others, upper body leaning forward with the support of long legs with joints that reminded you of a bird. Both its hands and feet were covered in scales and ended in large talons. A grand pair of ebony wings were folded behind its back, and a muscular feathered tail swayed with its movements. Overall, its appearance was a mixture of avian and reptilian.
The feathery wings were a huge hint, but absolute certainty struck you when you made eye contact, gold-filled eyes with a bird-like slant on a face that still managed to stay youthful after so many alterations to its body. You listened in on the villains’ conversations whenever they were around. With no access to any kind of media in this place, it was the only way to stay up-to-date with everything happening outside of these cursed labs. You remember hearing about their latest victory, how they managed to overpower and kill the number two hero of Japan, dreadful news that you refused to believe. But the beast that was eyeing you curiously gave you no choice but to accept the truth.
Hawks has become their newest nomu.
The doctor accompanying him smiled proudly, commanding the monster to take your side. You gulped and tried not to flinch in his presence; you were always extra tense around new additions that didn’t know you yet. “Hawks is dead,” the doctor said calmly. “Say hello to our latest work: Raptor.”
You think you’d rather stick with ‘Hawks’. The doctor doesn’t wait for a response before continuing. “We expect samples from this one daily.”
The shocking demand has you speaking before you can stop yourself. “Why?”
The man’s impassive eyes darkened and you shrink back, considering an apology but deciding that it was best to just keep your mouth shut. Prisoners like you followed a set of rules, the most important one being ‘No Questions’. They’ll feed you to the very beasts entrusted in your care without batting an eye.
Lucky for you, this man was willing to give you a pass. “Analysis, fertilization, storage for future plans…many matters that don’t concern you. Expect me every morning to take it in for testing. Until then, get it settled and collect the first sample.”
You shuddered, sneaking a glance at Hawks, who was busy looking up at the occasional flicker of the ceiling light. It was careless to underestimate how observant the High Ends were, but this is the first time you’ve seen one so openly curious. Normally they would just absently stare at nothing when left idle.
Only when the doctor turned to leave did you finally give the newcomer your full attention. “Hawks?”
He continued to watch the blinking bulbs with great interest.
“Um…Raptor?”
You nearly jumped from how quickly his entire body turned toward you, completely still and waiting for whatever instructions came next.
You scratched at your head nervously. “Right, I guess that really is your name now. Well, come with me.”
He followed you down the old hall and past the rooms where others of his kind rested, talons tapping against the tiles with each step.
x---x---x---x---x
Raptor’s exposed frontal lobe throbs.
He doesn’t remember anything before his awakening in that cold and wet chamber. Was there anything before? Had he just been born?
Perhaps…but it just didn’t feel right.
x---x---x---x---x
Like all the other nomu, Hawks’s private space was nothing more than an emptied patient room. Their loyalty was the only thing keeping them from breaking down the old doors or tearing through the worn walls. Every minute spent alone with these superhumans was a gamble with your life.
But again, the newcomers make you extra nervous.
You stood at the door while Hawks examined his new home. He sniffed and pawed at every nook and cranny like an animal in unfamiliar surroundings, straightening his flexible spine to touch the ceiling before lowering himself on all fours. He seemed just as comfortable crawling as he was with walking; you can only imagine how incredible his agility has become. The beloved wing hero was best known for his swiftness in defeating and subduing villains, and it looks like the mad scientists sought to maximize his talents. The average nomu was built to be an indestructible powerhouse. Hawks was built to be an even more efficient predator than he already was.
As much as you didn’t want to interrupt him, you had a job to do. “Raptor…”
His head whipped around to pin you with a sharp stare, molten yellow slits revealing the red irises that only appear when focused. You tensed, but he made no further movements.
You cleared your throat and took a deep breath. Nomu respond best to a confident and assertive voice. “Just relax and stay still. It’s time for me to collect some sperm, if you even know what that means.” You grab the jar that you had already prepared in the corner.
He shook his wings and soft mane of hair, leaving his head a poofy mess. Well that was…cute. You approached him before setting the container back down and reaching for the pathetic rags they called shorts. It’s beyond ridiculous how these sadistic doctors are willing to completely violate and alter a person’s corpse, yet they force the abominations to keep their junk covered as some form of decency.
A low rumble vibrated from his chest as you dropped to your knees and pulled down his only article of clothing, allowing the not quite human-looking cock to spring free — a thick base with a curved shaft decorated with scale-like ridges on the top and bottom, then tapering to an arrow-like head, twitching and growing each second. You’ve seen stranger dicks, but it still catches you by surprise. Was Hawks’s dick always like this?
Is that a distasteful question? He is technically dead.
The moment your hand made contact, a loud hiss rushed past his teeth and he stepped back, wings flapping as he backed away until he hit the wall.
“Calm down.” His reaction startled you, but your voice remained steady. He wasn’t showing any signs of aggression, his widened eyes and timid posture gave the impression that he was just caught off-guard. “Calm,” you repeated more softly.
A few seconds pass while his breaths slow and he stands straight again to give you access to his fully hardened cock.
You try to move more slowly, at first running just your fingertips along his length to ease him into the feeling. You smiled at the sight of his face relaxing; he was surprisingly expressive. “See? It’s not so bad, is it?”
His mouth opened to give you a glimpse of sharp teeth that could easily shred your flesh, but the only sounds that come out are several choked peeps. He winces and brings a clawed hand to his throat.
“Can’t talk yet, huh? Don’t worry, it usually takes a few days for you guys.” You closed your fingers around his shaft in a firm grip and began to stroke him.
The soft purrs must mean that he has fully given in. He thankfully hasn’t made any grabs at you yet; only staring down and watching you explore every inch of his pitch-black meat, taking his leaking pre-cum and smearing it all over for lubrication.
His wings shiver and his tail begins to swing wildly—you flinch at each loud thud whenever the powerful limb whacks the wall or slams into the floor. You briefly wonder if the feathers on his tail are capable of becoming sharp blades like the ones on his wings.
The purrs become low growls as he begins to bend over your kneeling form, muscular thighs quivering around you. His cock was twitching under your quickening pace, notifying you that it was time to grab the jar and get ready. “No need to hold back. Go ahead and cum.”
He obeyed with a high screech and two sets of talons seized your shoulders, tearing through cloth and digging into your skin. You yelped, but didn’t halt your milking of his cock, ensuring each spurt of cum landed inside the container. Blood can be felt trickling down your arms, his grip on the verge of crushing bone until he finally lets go after his final spasm. You release the breath you didn’t even know you were holding as you sealed the jar and stood up. “Good, now rest,” you said through clenched teeth and turned to leave.
A distorted chirp is heard behind you; you twisted your head to see Hawks rushing forward, and your heart jumps into your throat. Fuck, what did you do? Did turning your back excite him? Running wasn’t a smart option at this point. You held the fresh warm sample close to you as you shut your eyes and braced for whatever the nomu had planned.
But when he was close enough for you to feel his hot breath against your back, nothing happened. Then there were fingers, the same fingers that pierced your flesh with their hooked claws, lightly tracing over the bleeding wounds. It was a touch that was way too gentle for a monster created to kill.
You heard the choked sounds again, and you take a look at his face as he strains to form a word, eventually giving up and mouthing it instead. What you read from his lips was something that hasn’t been said to you during your entire time in this hellish hospital.
‘Sorry.’
He retreats to a corner and curls up his entire body like an animal sleeping in the cold.
You felt like the one unable to speak now, mouth opening and closing in search of a response. Eventually you were able to collect yourself. “It’s alright…I guess. Not the first time one of you has handled me roughly. First time one of you showed any regret, though…it’s honestly really freaking me out.” You giggle uncomfortably and decide that you need to hurry up and treat yourself before the scratches get infected. “Rest,” you make sure to command before rushing out of the door.
The restroom held a shabby but functional shower that will rid you of the blood, and the workers were at least generous enough to give you the bare minimum of first-aid along with extra gowns. A couple excruciating dabs of alcohol on the open wounds should clean them up just fine.
You’ll have to think about Hawks’s odd behavior later. You still had other nomu to tend to.
x---x---x---x---x
Subject: Raptor
Field Test
Quirk #1: Fierce Wings
Notes: As the host’s original quirk, we don’t expect Raptor to experience any difficulties with Fierce Wings. It should serve more as a refresher for his memory. With a brain more advanced than any other nomu so far, he should still be quick in attacking and reacting. His slightly enlarged wings will allow for greater endurance during flight, and of course, a bigger arsenal of feathers. The feathers on his tail are also to be tested.
The room that Raptor stood in the center of was filled with targets everywhere—some static, some moving in fixed patterns. The humans in coats were a safe distance away and watching him closely.
“Raptor, strike the targets with your feathers.”
He didn’t even have a chance to see which one gave the order before his body was already reacting. It took only seconds for him to pin the locations and time the movements of each target. In a flash, black sharpened feathers darted in multiple directions and pierced every mark in the room.
He didn’t care about impressing the Coats, but he still released a pleased hum after hearing his entire audience gasp. The whole situation felt familiar for some reason. Completing such a test felt so natural to him, he could probably do it blindfolded.
“Again, but this time use only the feathers from your tail.”
He obeyed. With his body lowered and tail raised, it only took two seconds longer to hit each mark.
Several more tests took place. He chopped objects of different materials and varying thickness, sliced apart a combat robot while using only his tail as a blade, and showed off his speed and aerial maneuvers during a small obstacle course.
His brain pulsed painfully. He doesn’t understand why taking so many commands was such a painful struggle.
He didn’t mind the tests much. At least he can actually do something in these test fields, as opposed to sitting in his empty room all day. After the very pleasant time spent with you, it was nothing but hours of pacing, scratching, and grooming out of boredom.
You mentioned there being others like him in those rooms. How do they handle having absolutely nothing to do for so long?
“Its mind tends to wander, doesn’t it?”
He turns to the source of the voice and finds a pair of Coats that stared at him like they were trying to probe his mind with just their eyes. The rest were scrambling about, discussing the excellence of his performance and scribbling notes.
But these two only seemed interested in watching him get lost in his thoughts. He stared back, waiting to see if they had any commands to give.
One of them only smirked as the loyal creature stood at full attention. “Yes, not very hostile, either. Not only is he capable of higher levels of thinking, he is the first High End that doesn’t host the body of some brutish villain. A more complex mind often comes with very human...quirks.”
Raptor blinks. They really enjoyed saying that particular word.
x---x---x---x---x
When you stepped into Hawks’s room for the second morning, you were ready to step right back out when you saw the state of it.
Claw marks everywhere, covering the walls and floor like webs embedded in the surface. Hawks was looking at you closely while stooped low to the floor, but his body appeared relaxed and not ready to lunge.
Not a single hair on you moved when you spoke. “Are you alright?”
He tilted his head at the question, releasing a puff of air through his nostrils before returning to whatever he was trying to do to the floor. He wasn’t violent with his movements. The talons scraped across wide curves, long lines, other patterns with seemingly no goal in mind. Looking around at the other claw marks, you realize that none of them are the angry slashes of a beast throwing a fit. They all looked to have been drawn in a calm matter, twisting and turning into random non-specific shapes.
“Raptor, are you…bored?”
He paused his carving to look at you again and releases a long and drawn-out groan, throat vibrating along with the vocals. Was that a whine?
All of the High Ends had traces of their original personality, but this was on another level. It wasn’t unwelcomed, however. “You know, when the other High Ends don’t have anything to do, they kinda just…I don’t know, it’s like they put their brains on a power-saver mode. You can’t do that?”
His brain responds with several strong pulses. Gross, you’re never going to get used to that pink-gray matter moving around. After what was apparently deep thought, Hawks gave a softer groan and shook his head.
You couldn’t help but laugh humorlessly at this entire situation. “Incredible. You’d think that these smartasses would know that making a creature of extraordinary intelligence—I bet that’s what they said—would mean that your big gross brain needs regular stimulation. Geniuses, my ass.”
Hawks gave a beastly snort. Seems like he agrees with you. You don’t mean to sound like those insane bastards, but it truly was incredible to see a High End that showed interest in casual conversation, not just commands or any opportunity to cause destruction.
Feeling confident that he won’t maul you out of boredom, you finally approach and kneel in front of him. “Sorry, there’s not much I can do about that,” you said with genuine sympathy. “Not like I have any entertainment of my own. My room sucks too. But—“ You held up your fresh new jar. “Maybe we can kill some time together again? God, that makes me sound like a sex worker for you guys.”
You don’t know if he has a sense of humor, but he clearly understands your hints and perks up. He stands so that your face is leveled with his groin, black scaly hands tugging at his shorts until a loud rip causes him to grunt in frustration. You giggle and decide to help tear the rest off. “They were just shitty rags, anyway,” you said.
He was already growing right in front of you. Your hand wraps around him for a second time, thankful that it doesn’t startle him again. He tenses for only a moment, but quickly relaxes when your stroking begins, a large pair of testes swinging freely now that there was no cloth to contain them.
“Wow,” you couldn’t help but gasp. “You’re not even built as big as the other nomu, but those are still impressive. I guess you’ve got plenty of samples to give, huh? Good, ‘cause I’ve gotta do this every damn day.”
You received a purr and a swish of his tail in response. It was a one-sided conversation, but it was still pretty refreshing. Milking the other High Ends was an uncomfortable task, one where you always had to be prepared with a loud and strong “No” or “Stop” whenever their excitement evolved into aggression. Every minute was tense, and despite your occasional wish for release from this shitty life, you didn’t want a violent end at the hands of these sex-hungry monstrosities.
His reactions weren’t too different from yesterday; he was being more vocal and less shy about physically expressing his pleasure. The massive black wings blew your hair back with each powerful beat, and his tail was thrashing about even more wildly.
His deep purrs weren’t unpleasant, slowly changing into higher mewls as he got closer. “Come on, just do what you did last time.”
And so he did, delivering another fresh sample straight into your container with a warped cry. His hands lingered right over you, clenched in tight fists that surely had those sharp talons digging into his rough palms. You couldn’t be sure, but it looked as if he was trying not to grab you this time. Would he really care about that without being told?
Hot, tired breaths blew into your hair as he recovered from his climax. Then, with his head reared back, he let out a yawn. You even heard a faint little whine similar to a dog escape him. It would have been pretty endearing if it weren’t for just how widely his mouth was opened, displaying the scary set of teeth within. Does he really use those in combat?
With his still-dripping member going flaccid, he returned to the spot he was scratching at, lazily tracing the markings that were already made. The thought of him doing this for another ten hours or so made you frown. They probably wouldn’t care if you stayed in this room a little longer than usual, would they?
Shrugging, you kneeled down again, this time resting beside him. Hawks stopped and looked at you curiously.
“Sharpen one of your feathers and give it to me,” you ordered.
Almost immediately a feather appears right in front of you. You grab it, taking care not to cut your fingers on the razor-like barbs. When’s the last time you’ve held a writing utensil? Shifting awkwardly next to the large nomu, you took the quill and began scratching lines into the floor. The hot heavy breaths and overall warmth from his close presence was hard to ignore. You’ve never been this close to a nomu for any reason that wasn’t jerking them off. He remained calm, watching your hand closely until you finished drawing a small grid.
“You know how to play tic tac toe?”
He blinked.
“…Okay, it’s pretty simple. You fill a space with either an ‘O’ or an ‘X’…”
Somehow, teaching a killer monster how to play a common children’s game was weirder than making him jizz. He caught on quickly, favoring X’s. You were winning each game at first, but once he figured out all of the possible patterns, every game was ending in a draw. You drew larger grids, sometimes having both of you move to a different spot for more room. Most matches were still draws, but he will sometimes catch you by surprise and scratch a row of three X’s that you didn’t notice in time, his tail swishing out of what may have been pride or enjoyment.
After a while you decided to show him other shapes. Maybe he can experiment with them more when you were gone. Who knows, soon he might be drawing more than random lines. He wasn’t bad company, to be honest. Then again, your standards have taken a nosedive ever since you winded up in this facility of unethical science. It was nice to spend time with anything that didn’t want to just tear you in half with a massive cock.
Only when you felt like you overstayed your welcome and stood back up did you realize how much of a mess you both made of the floor and walls.
“Oops, it looks like a bunch of kids got in here,” you said while looking at the collage of shapes and lines. Hopefully the doctors won’t find this too strange; he was pretty intelligent, after all. “Well, it’s about time I take my leave. You keep practicing your doodling skills, I guess.” With the jar of white fluid back in your arms, you headed on out, but a large hand grabs onto your arm.
Hawks’s yellow eyes were wider than usual, a scraping, guttural noise leaving his throat as he toyed with his voice.
“Sss…..aaayy…” Just like the other High Ends, his vocals were warped and all-around unsettling, but you could hear it, traces of the playful and smooth-talking hero that you used to watch during interviews and talk shows. It was barely there, but it was still there.
“St…aay.”
You couldn’t help the sad smile that graced your face. He was looking at you like a puppy. “Sorry, but I don’t know what they’d do if they notice me staying here for too long,” you explained.
He winced from the strain of his vocal chords. “Come…back?”
You shook your head. “There are cameras in the halls. I shouldn’t be going in and out of your room.” You tensed under his grip, afraid that refusing him like this will anger him. He has been very docile so far, but you don’t know what it takes to set him off.
Thankfully, he lets go of you and backs away with another one of those whines. For God’s sake, were you really feeling bad about leaving one of these...things?
To be fair, in the two days you’ve known him, Hawks was already much different from the others. Hell, he hasn’t even shown any true signs of aggression yet. The other High Ends are always expressing some desire to attack or break something. You thought it came naturally with all of the engineering. For something that was apparently supposed to be their finest specimen yet, Hawks’s behavior wasn’t fitting for his job at all. You just played tic tac fucking toe with him like two kids on a sidewalk.
That’s probably why you found yourself trying to reassure him. “We can play some more tomorrow. Don’t worry.”
An odd clicking noise was made—he sure had a variety of sounds reminiscent of birds—and he returned to his favorite corner, hooking his talons into an empty spot on the wall to begin yet another drawing.
The slightest hint of warmth could be felt in your chest as you left him to his creative tasks. This place sucks and has deprived you of everything good in life for…you’ve lost track of how long. You’ll take whatever you can get to make things more bearable around here.
And if that ‘whatever’ turns out to be a former top hero who was killed and resurrected into a horrid experiment, then so be it.
x---x---x---x---x
Subject: Raptor
Field Test
Quirk #2: Reptile
Notes: The Reptile quirk will make for a great upgrade to Raptor’s physical capabilities. He may possess wings, but the ability to climb almost any surface will be helpful in enclosed areas and improve his overall performances in stealth. A flexible spine allows him to comfortably be both bipedal and quadrupedal, the digitigrade legs granting him greater speed and jumps.
Also, someone needs to send in a request for a new pair of shorts for the damned thing.
There were many more instructions to follow this time. The Coats were bombarding him with one command after another.
“Climb up here.”
“Slash this with your talons.”
“Crush this with your hands. Try again with your feet.”
His head throbbed painfully as the voices took hold of his movements. They pushed his endurance to the limit when they made him run on a machine, first on his legs, then again on all fours. He was only running in place, but it was much more satisfying than pacing back and forth in that boring room.
It turns out that he can scale walls and ceilings with little effort thanks to the pads on his hands and feet. Maybe he can try drawing on the ceiling when he returns to his room. The only downside was that you wouldn’t be able to sit up there with him.
The Coats observed behind the (assumed) safety of a wall of thick glass. Each one possessed a small microphone so that their voice can still be heard clearly through the speaker on his side of the room.
They always watched him with cold and calculating eyes, and only spoke to him when telling him to do something. You feared him; his feathers easily sensed your tension, unsteady breaths, and quickening heartbeats, yet you still took the time to be friendly. And what you do with those hands…he wishes you’d make him feel that good all day. Yes, his room was small and boring, but it did have you.
“Raptor, to the opposite end of the room,” a Coat ordered. The sensation of being pulled by his entire head forced him to take his place at the wall, staring straight ahead at the door.
His wings twitched from a powerful approaching presence, feathers instinctively sharpening at the possible incoming threat. The door was opened by a small Coat to make way for a beast, a beast with a large powerful form and exposed brain just like him.
Vacant eyes stared straight ahead, looking right through him like it was dead on its feet.
“This is one of Cloner’s spawn, yes?” A female Coat spoke with her mouth close to the mic. He supposes that they don’t care if he hears them.
“Yes. His offspring always turn out even more unstable than him. This one can’t even produce a single proper clone, and no additional quirks were inherited. It’s useless.”
“Well, at least it’ll help us in its final moments.” The man leaned into his mic. “Raptor, kill the nomu. Do not use your wings.”
The woman followed up with her own order. “Nomu, kill Raptor.”
Blood was suddenly rushing through his body twice as fast, the reds of his eyes appearing and locking onto the target that was already charging at him with a horrifying wail.
Kill it.
He ducked under the bigger creature’s closing arms that would have likely trapped him into a crushing hug, causing his opponent to lose balance and fall forward. His hand shot up and dug his talons into thick flesh, slicing it from its chest all the way down to its stomach as he ran beneath. Rising from under the nomu’s legs, he turned to see his gruesome work.
Instead, he sees the blur of a fist right before it smashes into his face and sends him flying. His back colliding hard with the wall accompanied the shattering of his jaw. There was no time to wait for his vision to clear up, scrambling out of the path of the charging silhouette before it slams into the now-empty spot, the impact shaking the entire room.
The pain only intensified when his face and spine began to shift, mending itself back together while he tried his hardest to keep his eye on the much more violent beast. A ghoulish moan was heard as it straightened itself, and Raptor could see the large gash that should have easily disemboweled it already closing up.
Ah, so they can both heal.
It was already charging straight at him again. The thing was fast and powerful, but it was acting like it had a one-track mind, sticking to a simple strategy of running towards him and dealing whatever damage it could.
His wings twitched, but there was a barrier in his mind preventing them from moving. Damned Coats.
The fight became a game of evasion, darting and dashing around the bigger and stronger nomu’s swings and countering with deep slashes. Wearing it down was impossible with such rapid healing, every cut he brought upon its skin was quickly sewn shut.
His only chance was to attack its brain, but the nomu had enough sense to protect its one true vulnerable spot, nearly crushing Raptor’s arm into paste after an attempt to sink his talons into the soft matter.
So he kept dodging, and dodging, until something inside the creature just...snapped. Perhaps it was out of frustration in failing to land any hits, but its haunting moans and wails soon became full on screams. Tightly clenched fists pounded into the floor, the stone floor crumbling under the sudden tantrum. Raptor stood and watched, wings tensing from the burst of tortured emotions.
“Hm, you weren’t exaggerating about the meltdowns,” he heard one of the Coats say, her voice as dull as ever.
“What an embarrassment. Damn thing can’t even carry out a simple fight.”
Raptor looked behind the glass of spectators and saw faces of disappointment.
“A complete waste.”
“Cloner’s children are all wasted potential.”
“What a sad display.”
“Pathetic.”
He looked back at the creature that was now writhing and flailing, its skin oozing a blob that throbbed and squirmed, like it was trying its hardest to take a shape.
But the bubbly pulses stop and the dripping mass melts into a lifeless puddle. The nomu continues to scream after its failed attempt at using its quirk. Raptor’s gut twists with pity.
A sad display, indeed.
“Raptor! Did you forget your orders? Kill him!”
The sharp command smothers all feelings of sympathy, and before Raptor knew it, he was running toward the tormented creature, each feather on his tail sharpening with every step. Ducking under a blind swipe, the black spear thrusted forward and pierced its brain with a sickening shlunk.
The thrashing was reduced to short spasms as the nomu choked out its final groans, its terrified eyes glazing over when the last traces of life faded.
The tail was yanked out and shook off the blood and spongy brain matter to splatter on the ground. Raptor gave a soft whine of distress.
“Well, that was all rather underwhelming.”
“Yep, that didn’t exactly challenge Raptor at all.”
“I’m concerned about his lack of aggression. Did you all see him hesitate?”
“Most likely just confusion and caution after witnessing such a sudden breakdown.”
So many voices, so many comments; Raptor paid no attention to them. His mind was on the corpse that continued to bleed heavily from the large gash in its head. Raptor was the stronger nomu. He won.
Was he supposed to feel proud? Victorious?
“He’s a very smart one. Did you see the markings in his room? He and his harvester have been...bonding.” That voice...Raptor recognized it as the Coat that showed up every morning to retrieve him from his room to enter these test rooms. “I can’t decide if I like the idea of a friendly nomu.”
The woman dismissed his worries. “As long as he knows to kill when he’s told, his behavior shouldn’t matter. But it might benefit us to test his relationship with his owner after we’ve finished observing his quirks.”
His throat vibrates as a low growl passes through.
Raptor doesn’t like it here.
x---x---x---x---x
Maybe it’s just because Friday (you’re pretty sure it’s Friday on your self-made calendar) tends to be your busiest day of the week, or that your wrist is beginning to wear down from the many giant dicks you’ve been stroking. Or maybe it’s just one of those days when you remember just how shitty this life was. Whatever it was, you weren’t in one of your best moods today.
That’s why you felt just the smallest hint of excitement when you reached Hawks’s door. Yes, it’s weird, but he was the closest thing you had to a companion around here, alright?
The last thing you expected was to open the door to an empty room, at least it appeared that way until you saw the black creature resting on the ceiling.
“Aah!” You yelp and drop the jar out of fright, causing Hawks to jump from the sudden noise. You curse and quickly pick up the container and scan it for any cracks while he gracefully twists his body to drop on the floor with a thud. He was as graceful as a cat...a cat that can comfortably sit upside down.
Relieved to see the jar in one piece, you turned your attention back to the waiting High End. “I didn’t know you could climb like that.”
His wings fluttered at the comment and he raised his palms right in front of your face. Ah yes, a hand. Very lovely. But looking more closely, you could see a difference in texture on the rounded pads of his fingertips. “Ooh, little sticky hairs, huh?”
He gave a click of what you assumed to be approval, tail swinging behind him.
“So I guess you’re not just born knowing everything your body can do. Sounds troublesome.” There’s something you wanted to do, something you wouldn’t ever consider doing with the other nomu even in your dreams. “May I, uh, touch them?” You held up your own hands innocently.
Hawks cocked his head, a gesture that you’re always going to find kinda cute, before grunting and bringing his larger hands to yours. All ten of your fingers made contact, and the slightest shiver shot down your spine.
It’s the first time you’ve ever touched one of these monsters outside of jerking them to collect semen. Your curiosity was always there, but the disgust and fear you often felt when in their presence fueled the overpowering desire to hurry up, get the damn job done, and get away from them as quickly as possible.
You never imagined that you’d be standing face to face with a High End, feeling the surprisingly soft pads on his scaly hands, his breaths deep and hot against your face as those red irises watched your expressions. He was still very intimidating with his tall form, glowing glare, and the large imposing pair of wings. But those eyes—they contained too much intelligence and emotion in them.
Too human. It was as uncanny as it was fascinating.
Only when his eyes close and he begins to croon softly do you realize that one of your hands have moved up to touch his face. The black skin feels extra thick when you gently press his cheek, strong and leathery. He leans in and brings his head closer to give you better access, and you can’t help but reward the reaction with scratches against his jaw and chin.
“You know, you’ve been doing a shitty job of acting like the ultimate killer,” you said when he purrs happily.
The purr morphs into a disgruntled whine. “Don’t...like.”
Your hand pauses, hoping for him to elaborate as well as he could. “Don’t like…?” You encouraged him.
He was still struggling to work his vocal chords, but at least he seemed to be showing less pain. “Don’t like...k-killiiing.”
What?
“Raptor, that’s...you know...the very thing you were made for, and you don’t like doing it?” Not that you’re complaining about his gentle nature, but hearing a damn nomu say that he dislikes killing might be the most ludicrous thing you’ve heard here, even more so than the first time you were told to make an abomination cum.
His entire body stiffens, and you couldn’t help but tense up as well. “Maaade-” He makes a harsh hacking sound. “-to kill?”
Shit. You panic and attempt to backpedal. “Not to actually kill. You’re supposed to be, you know, the strongest creature that’s capable of killing whenever he wants...if you, uh, wanted to.” Yeah, that sounds good enough.
It appears to do the trick, his body relaxing again. “Don’t like,” he repeated more smoothly this time.
“I know, I know. Killing sucks. Just don’t tell the assholes in labcoats that, alright? Now calm down.” You return to your ministrations, this time using both hands to rub and scratch his face. His eyes drift shut again as your hands trail down to his slightly elongated neck, brushing past his steady pulse.
Reaching his collar and then his chest, you discover that he’s solid muscle everywhere. He may not be on the verge of bursting out of his own skin like the others, but he could no doubt snap you like a twig just as easily. You feel his chest heave from a deep breath, the strength emanating from his body making you shiver. You shush him when he jolts as your hands reach his pronounced abs, pushing against the hard muscle until you finally arrive at his groin.
You snorted at the new pair of shorts. “Another pair, huh? At least these look a little less ragged.”
You pulled his large member out for the third time. Why did you have to do this daily? What could they possibly be doing with so many jars of jizz? Making cakes?
Sighing, you brushed off the soreness of your arm and wrist and began to pump his ridged length. “Just do me a favor and try to cum quickly, alright?”
He made a rather sad groan at that, curling into himself so that his face was close to yours. His sharp breaths were loud in your ears.
You couldn’t help but smile even through the strain of your muscles. “What, you wanna make this last? Do you know how many dicks I’ve had to tend to today? Cut me some slack, we’re gonna be doing this everyday, anyway.”
Hawks purrs before that monstrous voice shakes your body, his hot breath warming the side of your face and neck. “Feel gooood.”
The primal lust dripping from him triggers a pulse of warmth inside you. You...can’t remember the last time you’ve felt that, and it’s just a tad strange that a nomu caused it. Were you really that starved for attention? “I-” You cleared your throat after an awkward voice crack. “I know, handjobs tend to feel good. But please be a good boy and help me out here.”
He gives a puff that blows your hair back, but he complies. The big sweaty face that buries itself in your neck is so distracting that you almost forget to get your jar ready and fill it with the incoming spurts of semen. There, the final sample of the day has been collected. Now, if you could just push the panting fiend off of you before he starts drooling on your shoulder.
Something warm and slimy touches your neck. It has you pulling back so quickly that you almost fall and spill the vile essence all over you before the jar could be properly sealed.
Hawks shrinks back and quickly withdraws the indigo tongue into his mouth, looking down in what appears to be shame. You touch the licked spot, the thick saliva coating your fingers.
“Sss-sorrry.” Regret can be heard clearly in his droning voice.
“No, it’s...it’s okay,” you stammer. The sensation lingers, and then ignites a spark somewhere inside you.
A sick, disgusting, and absolutely fucked up spark. The next thing you say should horrify you, but instead you feel nothing but a twisted form of anticipation. “You can...um...do that again, if you want.”
His tail slapped the floor in excitement before he slowly closed the distance again, cautiously looking into your eyes before his tongue slithers out and caresses the same wet space.
The smooth muscle is hot against you, extending to inhuman lengths to explore your neck. The slick sounds as it slid across your skin should have grossed you out—all of this should be grossing you out, so you don’t understand why you tilt your head back to give him more room. He licks up and down your throat slowly to savor your taste, breathing heavily and releasing a stale stench from his open maw. You imagined the breath of a previously dead man to smell a hundred times worse, frankly.
With your neck completely drenched in his cooling slobber, he ventures upward, purring louder than ever as he tastes the flesh of your jaw. The tapered end of his tongue begins to curiously flick at your earlobe before circling around the shell of your ear. He seems to take a liking to the flabby cartilage and laps at it playfully while giving the occasional nip and suck and god, it’s all heard so fucking clearly, every schlick and smack traveling right through your canal and setting off questionable reactions all over you. Your hands are clenched and held against your chest, but you don’t tell him to stop.
‘What the hell is wrong with me?’
The licking moves to your cheek, lapping at it shortly before moving to your pursed lips.
‘This is fucked up beyond words.’
You flinch when the clammy tongue brushes over your lips, at first smoothing over them lightly, possibly testing to see how you’d react. His face is so close, your noses almost touching. To allow a nomu this close to you, touching you like this…
When you make no move of resistance, he gets braver and laps at your mouth with controlled eagerness. Your eyes close to hide from the otherworldly gaze, but your lips feel even more sensitive to the weight that continues flicking and pressing at them, covering them in hot saliva. Several times does it briefly part your lips and graze your teeth, making you swallow at the thought of…
‘Don’t do that.’
Hawks pauses when you open up for him, but gives a gleeful chirp and snakes his way into your inviting mouth.
‘I’m really letting him do this.’
Clawed hands grab your arms a little too tightly and hold you in place. It hurts, yet all you can focus on is the flexible muscle exploring your mouth. It rubbed against the roof, pushed at the inside of your cheeks, and eventually stroked and curled around your own tongue.
‘You’re sick.’
But you’ve been sick ever since you got here, haven’t you?
When his grip loosens, you take the opportunity to place your hands around his head, digging your fingers into his...hair? Plumage? Was his hair always this feather-like?
A high-pitched sound of surprise leaves him when you try to pull him in closer. He quickly complies, closing the distance until his lips and mouth are covering yours.
It completely smothers your senses. You see his black wings expand to slowly encase both of you. You hear the wet friction of his tongue and the hungry growls that roll from his throat. You smell sweat and blood, briefly wondering just what exactly was he made to do during those ‘tests’. You taste the thick and flavorless saliva that makes you gag at first, but becomes easier to swallow as you take in more. And most of all, you feel him slowly moving in and out of your wide open mouth, the thrusting motion forcing your thighs to rub together in response to the growing heat threatening to consume you.
You snap out of it before that can happen.
Hawks pulls away when he hears your choked sounds of protest, your hands suddenly on his chest and pushing. Fresh oxygen rushes back into your lungs when his tongue leaves your mouth and retreats back into his. The warmth between your legs doesn’t fade away. Everything that just happened, everything you just allowed this monster to do fully sinks in.
And you fucking enjoyed it.
You back away from him as quickly as you can, ignoring his confused groans. A wave of nausea sweeps over you like a powerful gust that churns your stomach.
“Rest. I need to go.” It was all you said before you picked up the forgotten jar and fled the room, refusing to falter from the sorrowful whines behind you.
The urge to spew the little food you’ve been fed throughout the day all over the hallway floor is strong, but you manage to hold out until you reach the toilet in your room, quickly kneeling and hurling. It wasn’t much, but it still left you teary-eyed and with a burning throat.
What did you do? Just what the hell did you do that warranted getting kidnapped, having your nice comfortable life stolen from you, and the only way to cope was by making out with a horrid creature? You jolt from a painful mix of a sob and a hiccup. It’s been weeks since your last breakdown, but this new discovery was another hard blow to your sanity and pride. You let the tears flow as you flushed away your mess, moving over to your bed and collapsing onto the thin mattress. Fuck this facility. Fuck the scum that created all of this.
And fuck the throbbing wetness between your legs that still won’t go away.
Your sobs transform into humorless laughs. You’re going to have to get rid of the throbbing yourself, aren’t you? They won’t arrive to collect all of your samples for about another thirty minutes, so that should be enough time...
You pulled down the thin blue pants and rubbed your fingers over the slick that had gathered from what had transpired in Hawks’s room. It’s true, you’ve been doing nothing but sick shit since you’ve been tossed into this new life. Why do you even still hold on to feelings like shame and disgust? What good will they do you here?
So you try to drown out the voice of your conscience as you laid back, succumbing to the wonderfully twisted thoughts of a nomu’s tongue.
x---x---x---x---x
Subject: Raptor
Examination
Quirk #3: Regeneration
Quirk#4: Heat Resistance
Notes: Our most advanced specimens deserve the best healing quirks we have to offer. Raptor is no exception. It will also make up for his lack of weight and hard muscle, not that he should ever be mistaken as frail. Most importantly, this should accelerate the regrowth of his feathers and supply him with an endless arsenal. We do not want to risk his regeneration being hindered by burns. After all, it was fire that led to the host’s death. This is why we have added a quirk that should make it almost completely fireproof.
The only people that Raptor disliked more than the Coats, were the Masks. The Coats saw him as nothing more than an attack dog that is expected to obey every command. But the humans in masks...to them, he was just a fleshy object to be dissected and analyzed.
They were poking and cutting to their heart’s content. His mind screamed to get away from the assortment of blades and needles that hovered over him, sinking into his skin in various places while he could only writhe against the cuffs of the metal table he was strapped to. He doesn’t believe it’s their intention to test every ounce of his willpower, but that sure as hell is what they’re doing right now as he tries, really tries not to use his feathers out of desperation.
“Excellent. The cuts begin healing the moment they’re made,” one of them observes. “Try deeper incisions. Maybe I should try removing one of its eyes.”
Raptor’s heartbeat was booming in his ears after hearing those words.
A younger Mask has been flinching from every one of the nomu’s movements. “Shouldn’t we sedate it or something? What if it lashes out?”
“Stop panicking. A nomu won’t hurt anyone without orders, though his responses to pain are stronger than I expected. We may have to fix that.”
Raptor wouldn’t mind that at all. He hisses and howls as he’s taken apart and mended back together in a torturous loop. His brain is throbbing so strongly one would worry that it might burst. He fights to think through all of the agony.
He thinks of your touch. He thinks of your taste. Were you repulsed by what he did that morning?
Sharp pain shot through his wings when his feathers were being forcefully yanked out, his teeth on the verge of shattering from his tightly clenched jaws.
“Perfect! Look at that, they’re already growing back in.”
They were. He could feel the fresh plumes pushing through his skin. The regeneration did well in preventing any real damage, but it didn’t make the violent tearing of his feathers any easier to bear.
The cruel assault on his wings and tail eventually ended, black fluff littering the room’s floor. He remembers when you mentioned other nomu being capable of shutting down whenever they wanted. What he wouldn’t give to just turn off like a light switch right now.
“Alright, it’s time to move on to his heat resistance. Get the torch.”
The what? Raptor searched the fragments of his knowledge; most words were familiar to him, they just took a while to be remembered from...something. He doesn’t understand how he already knows so much, even though his subconsciousness needs time to dust everything off.
One of the Masks was holding a small object that ended in a tube. With a push of a button, a small blue flame appeared.
The glowing yellow eyes that were normally slits were suddenly wider than he thought possible, every part of him hyper focused on the small fire that was getting too close to his sore wings. His mind recovered a new piece of information:
Blue flames are to be feared.
He was thrashing the second the searing pain was felt, fighting to escape, to get away from the blue death that threatened to incinerate his wings again. He has felt this before. He doesn’t want to burn again.
Panic consumed him, unaware of how much his feathers have sharpened as he beats his wings and tail against the table. He can barely hear the Masks’ frantic voices over the ear-splitting screech, a screech that he realizes is coming from his own strained throat.
“–ptor, I SAID STOP!”
“–y arm! Fuck, my arm is bleeding bad–”
“–old you he’d attack! Why is he reacting so–”
“–atives! Into his neck! Hurry!”
Needles are being jammed into his neck, the chemicals working quickly in sapping away his strength, limbs becoming too heavy to move, and his thoughts were too cloudy to even continue panicking. The scorching heat was still present in his wing, but he can still feel the presence of all of his feathers. There was no foul smell of burnt plumage.
“Aaaugh, my arm...” In the corners of his vision, Raptor saw one of the Masks hunched over and clutching a blood-soaked arm. He didn’t mean to hurt any of them.
“Shut up and go patch yourself up.” An older man motioned the rest to come closer to the calmed nomu, which they cautiously obeyed. “Do you all see it? His feathers aren’t damaged at all. Perfect.”
“But why didn’t he stop resisting after you ordered him several times? And why was his reaction to pain so strong?”
The elder grimaced behind his mask and shook his head. “Its pain tolerance is laughable. There’s no use in a nomu having such sensitivity. We’ll need to perform an operation that will dull his nerves.”
They scrambled around the table, gathering new tools and focusing the creaky hanging light on Raptor’s face. He was too doped up to even react to the harsh brightness.
“And if he ignores us like that again, we may need to alter his brain and ensure his compliance in the future.”
The nomu tried to make a sound of protest, but in his dazed state he could give no more than a pathetic whimper. He was rather thankful of the drugs for making him unable to notice just how many needles were sinking into his brain, or the blades that opened up the rest of his head, keeping the tools in place to prevent his skull from instantly healing. It still hurt, a lot. But as they tweaked his pulsing organ, injecting unknown fluids inside, the pain began to dim. Raptor would have celebrated and attempted to wag his tail in relief.
But it wasn’t the only thing that was fading. The coldness of the metal at his back was becoming distant, the chill in the air of the room was suddenly so faint that it no longer made him shiver.
He wanted it all to hurt less, but he still wanted to feel.
He has no idea how much time had passed once they finally finished and allowed his bone and flesh to close up. The old Mask stared down at him, gloves drenched in thick crimson.
“That should do it. Going by your weaker reactions, the operation was a success and you now feel less sensation. Good.”
‘No. Not good.’ It’s what he was tempted to say, but Raptor didn’t want to utter a single word to anyone besides you, and the cruel man’s recent threat of robbing him of his free will ensured that he keeps his mouth shut.
Raptor hates it here.
x---x---x---x---x
There were fresh claw marks covering the walls of Hawks’s room, and this time they were angry. The drawings and games you made together were literally slashed out, with spots of blood spread out all over the floor.
He was curled up in a corner, wings concealing most of his shaking form.
“Raptor.” Firmly addressing him is usually all it takes to gain his full attention, just like any other nomu, High End or not.
Hawks doesn’t respond at all.
That’s new...and very unnerving.
You called him again. The mass of feathers didn’t budge. You swallowed a lump in your throat. He had clearly just thrown a violent tantrum, and you don’t know if he has fully calmed down yet. Approaching him is too risky, but the damn nomu won’t even acknowledge you. So you’ll have to get through him in a more natural way.
“Raptor, is everything alright? Do you, um, need some space? I can come back a little later...maybe another thirty minutes or so.” You offered, your body slightly twisting toward the door, ready to bolt if he decided to attack. You ignored the cold hard fact that the door and your legs would do little in protecting you from him.
His tail slowly uncurls like a timid snake, wings following suit and revealing his shrunken form. He was hugging himself tightly, talons peeling the skin off of his biceps. His head hung low, but you can see the spot of red in each eye looking right at you. He looked like an angry and frightened child, and his pitiful plea didn’t help matters.
“Don’t...go.”
His vulnerable state quelled your fears, but you still took caution. “Can I come closer?”
He looks down at the floor for a moment, seemingly pondering the question, before straightening his posture and nodding.
You follow the routine you’ve been getting used to with him, setting aside the jar and taking some time to talk. “Now tell me what’s wrong.”
It was supposed to compel him to instantly explain the issue, or at least attempt to with his awkward speech. You instead see him flinch and growl lowly, as if he didn’t appreciate you making demands. Just what is going on with him?
Your anxiety was probably visible since he quickly switched back to a less aggressive stance. You wince when he drags a claw through his flesh, blood leaking out for only a second before the wound instantly repairs itself. “Can’t feel.” He weeps with cracks in his unnatural voice. At least he’s dragging out his words less and sounds less like a moaning zombie.
“You can’t feel?” You repeated, edging closer and placing a hand over the healed spot. Another growl, louder this time, scares you into pulling away. But his bigger hand seizes yours and presses it hard onto the black skin. You feel the tremors that begin to wrack his body and try to stay calm in the wake of his growing distress.
His voice becomes only more broken. “Can’t feel it! Can’t feel you!”
You find yourself shushing him, holding your free hand up like you’re trying to calm a panicking animal. You cup the side of his face, but that seems to upset him even more. “You can’t feel my hand?”
He shuts his eyes and shakes his head, squeezing your hand tightly enough to cut off circulation. How freely he can emote still freaks you out a bit, face looking on the verge of shedding tears. Everything about him continues to be so surreal.
“Raptor, you’re a shitty nomu,” you told him with a small smile. “Not that I mind.”
And there goes that cute head tilt. The thought of him being released in a city to wreak havoc, just like the one that attacked Endeavor and...him, feels less possible after every meeting.
He was still powerful and potentially dangerous, if the state of the walls were anything to go by. You really shouldn’t be pushing your luck or his temper. On the other hand, you did decide yesterday that from now on, you are going to embrace the depraved dumbass within you. Hawks stiffens and starts to slowly pull back, but your hand makes its way to the back of his head. “It’s alright, it’s alright,” you soothed him. “I just want to see if you can feel any of this.”
With no more hesitation, you pressed your lips to his, feeling his shock through a surprised grunt. For a minute, you simply cover his rough lips with kisses while he stays completely still, eyes looking on the verge of bulging right out of their sockets. It looked downright silly. Why was he so shocked by a simple kiss anyway, after the way you let him ravage your mouth yesterday?
Your lips pause when you remember the distraught sounds he made that morning as he watched you rush out of the room. That’s right.
“Hey,” you murmur against him. “Sorry for taking off like that last time. Just...don’t worry about it, okay.” He released a hot breath onto your face. Your trapped hand is finally freed from his iron grip, numb and stiff, but you keep your attention on the motionless nomu. “We’re not exactly supposed to be doing this, but I want you t-mmf!”
He suddenly went forward and attacked your lips, aggressively mimicking your movements with enough force to bruise. You try to keep up and calm his pace, sighing into his mouth once his lips finally begin to slow down. He’s clumsy like you expected, but his intelligence shows when he tries to follow your lead and quickly learns the intimate dance of your mouths. The occasional swipe of that blasted tongue across your lip makes you gasp, and then you feel big strong arms wrapping around you and pulling you close, the beats of his excited wings, the throaty growls that rattle your entire being…
You can feel yourself heating up again already.
“Mmm, Raptor...wait,” you manage to say between kisses, your hands pushing against his chest. He gives a grating sound of annoyance, but pulls away like you wished. You were suddenly hyper aware of his size and strength – this monster that was holding you closely and taking care not to harm you. If any other nomu had you like this, they undoubtedly wouldn’t have stopped.
“So, did you feel any of that?” Your hand travels down to his groin and rubs at the bulge that still had a lot of growing to do. “Do you feel that?”
To your dismay, he shakes his head. “No,” he groans as his wings droop closer to the floor.
It has you stumped. How are you supposed to please him when his whole body is numb?
“But…” He licks his lips slowly. “Can still taste. Tastes so good.”
When you let him lap at your lips again, he twitches beneath the ragged cloth.
You put two and two together, and the realization makes you gulp. And ache.
Remember, shame is useless here.
He allows you to back away and create some distance. The sight before you is frightening on its own: The sharp stare of the raven-winged fiend while surrounded by the deep marks of its outburst would do well in intimidating any sane individual. Remembering what exactly he is makes you pause only for a second, your hands grabbing the bottom of your thin blue shirt and lifting it before your pesky conscience can even get a word in.
Hawks’s wings flare out slightly when your breasts are revealed to him, talons clicking against the floor as he shuffles about, at a loss of how to react. Relieved that you haven’t been pounced on immediately, you lean down to remove your pants next, ignoring the trembling in your hands as you pull the garment down and step out of them. They never supplied you with underwear, so with your two articles of clothing removed, you were completely nude in front of the dangerous nomu.
At first you both just stared at each other, until he finally came forward to scan your body more closely, mindful of how nervous you were. The tension made you almost choke and cough on your words.
“I-if you want to…taste more of me, go ahead.” You didn’t mean to squeak out those last two words. You blame it on the chilly air.
The hands that take hold of your hips feel extra hot, along with the breath that grazes your chest. The blue tongue slides past his lips and extends to press against the spot right over your pounding heart, then moving smoothly up the column of your neck and your cheek in one long swipe, the wet trail making you shudder. The mouth ventures close to your ear to utter the word that you remember repeating to him on the first day you got him off.
“Calm.”
It’s followed by a rolling purr that eases you into doing just that. The humming continues while he eyes your breasts, nipples already pert from being exposed to the air. Even in your more relaxed state, the sudden lick across your tit makes your breath hitch. He seems to enjoy your response and repeats the action, giving it several more laps before wrapping around the entirety of the soft globe like a tentacle, squeezing gently.
“Ah, Raptor,” you moan when the tip of the tongue flicks at your nipple, sending the tiniest of jolts through you. “Damn, where did you learn to do that?”
He answers with nothing more than a groan as he continues to show off his tongue’s flexibility. It coils and swirls around the skin until every inch of it is covered in his saliva, making you even more sensitive to the cold air. Satisfied with his work, he moves on to repeat the motions with your other breast.
The pleasure was soothing, like a massage…if the masseuse had sticky boneless limbs. You close your eyes and wrap your arms around him, letting yourself enjoy the vile act of a monster sampling your taste.
His mouth suddenly engulfs you, the damp heat adding to the ongoing feeling of his tongue dancing around your tit. The purrs abruptly become a powerful vibration that electrifies your skin and brings forth your moisture to drip and run down your thighs.
But Hawks suddenly pulls away and stares at you intensely, the glower snapping you out of your daze.
“What is it?” You were getting nervous again. Did one of your reactions irritate him?
He breathes in, again and again, sniffing at the air for something. The swaying tail hints that whatever he smells is exciting him. His head lowers in pursuit of the scent and stops at your womanly mound to take a long whiff at the spicy aroma emanating from your cunt.
With his breath now blowing right against your sex and increasing your arousal, your juices trickled freely onto the floor and for him to see. The clawed hands on your hips held you steady, preventing you from collapsing from the nerve-racking anticipation that had you shaking all over. At no point in your life have you ever felt this exposed, being ogled by a pair of eyes in which the irises were bigger than you’ve ever seen them, mesmerized by the source of the delicious smell.
The tongue slips between your thighs before you could even prepare yourself, stretching across the entirety of your lips, over your entrance, nearly reaching your ass before it pulls back toward his mouth, the rubbing of the silky muscle creating buzzes of pleasure. Looking down gives you the unpleasant view of his brain, but you also get to see him swallow and savor your taste, humming deeply in approval before salivating with the need to drink up more.
“Good.”
He doesn’t wait for your response – his face is already being shoved into you, and you’re suddenly bombarded with delightful hot sensations all over your pussy. The ravenous organ travels up and down your folds, collecting every drop of your sweet nectar while you could do nothing but spread your legs to give him more leeway – God you’re such a whore – and cover your mouth in the hope that no passerbys hear your moans in the room.
When your legs officially become jelly and can no longer support you, Hawks tires of holding you up and allows you to fall back a little too hard onto the floor, the impact making you wince. Any other time, he probably would have at least made a sound of apology, but your sopping wet pussy has stolen his attention. He wastes no time in lifting your hips up toward his waiting mouth, now utilizing his lips along with his tongue to loudly slurp up your essence.
His vicious hunger has you seeing stars. Wings open up and expand around both of you like black curtains that darken your vision, like a bird of prey mantling over a hard-earned meal. The only thing you can clearly see between your legs are the eerie glows of red and yellow; the glare of a demon that seeks to devour you from the inside. He starts to suck your folds dry, growling as he inspects every inch of the ravaged honeypot until his lips brush against your neglected clit.
A muffled “fuck!” passes between your fingers, both of your hands tightly clamped over your mouth. The reaction surprises him, and to his delight, it triggers more of your nectar to flow. The most efficient gag wouldn’t have been enough to suppress your scream when he sucked hard on your sensitive bud.
You couldn’t help it. Fighting past the paralyzing pleasure, your hands blindly grab at his head and accidentally bury your fingers into a soft squishy brain. The discomfort makes him shake his head and groan in irritation, raising his head and narrowing those menacing eyes at you as a silent warning.
“Hah...shit...I’m sor–AH! Fuck-oh my god....” He’s already attacking your clit again before you can finish your apology. All he cares about at the moment is your taste, and not even you were going to interrupt him. The surrounding wings occasionally twitch and shudder around you, vibrating along with your approaching climax. But the second you feel dangerously close, his lips leave the perky little pebble and move back down to lap at your fresh flow. It tears you away from an orgasmic finale and brings you back to that sensual middle ground. The audible licks were amazing, but you need to reach that edge. Your hand drifted down to your pussy, right over his tongue where you can give your clit the stimulation needed to cum…
“Hwrrrrrrr…”
You felt the terrifying snarl more than you heard it, shaking you to your very core. The other core, not the one on the verge of bursting. You immediately pull away and freeze, shivering and breathing quickly at the sight of his bared fangs. For a brief moment, the tent of feathers showed off a faint sheen, like they all suddenly sharpened. A quivering, fear-fueled gasp left you.
It felt like the staredown went on forever, but Hawks was eventually convinced that you weren’t going to distract him from his feast again and returned his gaze to the fragrant pussy before him. However, after a few more licks, he grunted in frustration. You weren’t secreting your precious juices fast enough; your body simply couldn’t keep up with his newfound greed.
The insatiable tongue keeps poking and prodding at your opening until it pushes in just enough to slightly stretch your walls. You struggle to stay relaxed and keep your hands to yourself. Hawks was currently as unpredictable as any other nomu, and you didn’t want to piss him off.
When the hot thick muscle is suddenly shoved into you, you don't even have time to cover your mouth and block the next scream that is ripped from your throat. There’s no time to adjust to the completely foreign sensation. It squirms inside of you like a living creature, massaging your pussy in ways you didn’t even know were possible, sometimes hitting that special soft spot.
Your molten center spreads its flames across every nerve. This is far beyond what you fantasized on the night you touched yourself. His tongue was able to fill you completely, all while moving around more freely than a cock or even fingers ever could. Too soon does it leave your pulsing walls and back into his mouth, where he swallows every drop he’s gathered before shooting his tongue back out and penetrating you again before you can even complain.
He was moving with more force, enough to create a visible swell in your stomach that moved along with his tongue. You can’t look away from it, even as he begins to push in and out at a steady rhythm, the pleasure building up to new heights while the bulge in your belly moves up and down. You’re tempted to ask him to move his wings to allow more light for a better view, but interrupting him now is probably a stupid idea.
He pants loudly from his open mouth as he fucks you thoroughly with nothing more than a long powerful tongue, his thrusts moving faster and deeper in search of more of your savory wetness.
Meanwhile, you were dizzy. It was uncomfortable at first. It’s been so long since you’ve been fully stretched, but it all quickly melds into pleasure you have long since forgotten – no – you hadn’t even known. Your interest in sex has greatly diminished during your stay here. Hell, you were certain that your libido was officially dead. But Hawks….
This abomination was going to be the death of you.
Your g-spot is suddenly struck again, and again. Most of your words were incoherent, and the ones that could be made out were nothing more than endless encouragement. “Gah-hnngh, fuck, Hawks, you want more, don’t you? Ah, I’m about to give you more. Keep going Hawks don’t fucking stop.”
Talons are biting into your skin from his tightened grip. With a low bellow of excitement, his mouth moves to cover your entire sex, prepared for the incoming downpour, and thrusts his tongue into your most sensitive spot repeatedly without mercy.
The pressure within explodes violently, completely overshadowing that laughable orgasm you gave yourself yesterday. Each contraction adds more white that flashes in your eyes, moving in from the corners of your vision until it becomes as blinding and unbearable as the bliss that washes over you. There are noisy gulps between your legs, the parched monster happily taking every rush of fluid directly into his mouth and down his throat until he finally has his fill.
Even through your spasms your walls try desperately to clamp around his tongue as it leaves, but to no avail. The looming wings finally move away and return to their usual resting spot behind his back while he sets your lower body down and licks his lips for any remaining traces of your slick. The talons never broke your skin, but they did leave some glaring marks on your hips and ass.
You still tingled all over from the waist down while your muscles make the greatest effort to respond to any of your commands. No use. You decide to lay there covered in the monster’s spit. The work of that amazing specimen of a tongue almost made you forget that this was being done to arouse him. You should probably check to see if he was hard. He may not be able to feel your hand anymore, but he still might be excited enough to cum from the act. Stupid science bastards, making your job more complicated.
“Hawks.”
The single word uttered from the nomu clears your mind instantly. Your weakened arms push you upright to properly face him. He was still crouching, scaly toes supporting the weight of his body like a gargoyle without a perch.
“You say Hawks. What...is Hawks?”
What? When did you…?
Oh. Shit. Your mouth was moving on its own while he was eating you out.
Your mind was zipping in several directions at once, hoping that he wouldn’t find anything odd about your eyes darting about, looking everywhere except at him. You settled on a simple and dismissive answer. “Oh...don’t worry about it. I was just babbling while you had me on cloud nine,” you said with a crooked smile.
Black lips twisted into a frown, accompanied by a quick beat of his wings and then...eww. His brain is pulsing way too much, so much that he shakes his head in agitation, which only adds to the disturbing visual as the organ jiggles slightly in his head. “Hawks...don’t know...I know…” His words jumbled over his inner turmoil. The long tail lifted and began to swing quickly.
You sat there, nude and bewildered. Every High-End still carried traces of who they once were, expressing some of the same behaviors and habits they presumably had before death.
This is the first time you’ve seen one with any sort of recollection of their past life, even if it’s something as minor as feeling a connection to their name. You have a feeling that’s not supposed to happen.
You shouldn’t tell him anything; nothing good will come out of it. He needs to shut up and start being a bloodthirsty killer before the doctors decide that he’s more trouble than he’s worth.
“Raptor,” your shaky legs move slowly, shifting until you’re resting on your knees, face to face with the nomu that still looks interested in your naked body even as his head throbs. “It’s not important. Stop thinking about it.”
The look he gives you is one of hurt and dammit, this is exactly his problem. “But...Hawks. Want to know what-”
“I said stop thinking!” Your volume shocks both of you, but Hawks actually recoils from the unexpected shout. You don’t care, all it does is confuse you more, anger you more. “Why the hell aren’t you listening to me anymore? That’s what you’re supposed to do! Do whatever we tell you! What, did you break?” A full-body chill reminds you of the state you’re in. You were seriously having an outburst while still completely naked with Hawks’s saliva glistening over your thighs. You groan and turn away from the troubled hybrid to grab your clothes and dress yourself, not giving a damn if you pissed him off and he decides to kill you right there. He’d be doing both of you a favor, really.
But it shouldn’t be a surprise when you see that he hasn’t budged from his spot, making no move to retaliate. “I like you, Raptor,” you admitted. “Somehow, you managed to be the only welcomed company in this fucked up hospital slash prison, but you shouldn’t be. What we just did...that shouldn’t have happened. Fuck, I – I should’ve been terrified, and I kinda was, but, I shouldn’t have felt that good!” Your doubts, your conscience, they both return with a vengeance. But this time it’s not you they’re worried about.
“If this is how you act around everyone else, you’re not going to last here.” You hold his face in your hands, a tender gesture that shouldn’t be possible with the likes of him. “These assholes are gonna get rid of you if you don’t do what they want, and they’re going to ask for horrible things. I know you don’t like killing, but if you keep up all of...this, you’re going to lose more than your sense of touch.”
He doesn’t make a sound, only staring at you before gritting his teeth and nodding in your gentle grasp. His compliance both relieves and hurts you.
“I’m sorry, but no more questions. Please? The less you know, the better.”
“No more…questions.” Dammit, you hate how clear the sorrow is in his eerie voice, like the mournful moans of a lost soul. “No more.”
You give him a smile of thanks, it’s the least you could give him. You try to bring the atmosphere back to its usual awkward yet friendly vibe. “Now, let me see if your, um, tasting did you any good.” You move to pull down his shorts. That is, until you notice the large damp spots and stains on the cheap material. Oh, he did not.
“Welp, it obviously worked. Now how am I gonna scrape this shit off?”
x---x---x---x---x
Hawks.
Flames.
Decay.
Death. Everywhere.
But, somehow, he knew it wasn’t his doing.
Maybe he did kill a few...he wasn’t sure. It’s all so blurry and nauseating.
Was he killing people? Was he…trying to save them? A monster like him, saving people?
“No more questions.”
Your voice echoes, bouncing across the shattered fragments of his mind. Raptor tries to obey. He doesn’t know what this Hawks is, or why it keeps plaguing him.
Whatever Hawks was, it’s gone. Raptor wants it to leave him alone.
x---x---x---x---x
Subject: Raptor
Field Test
Quirk #5: Camouflage
Notes: As you know by now, Raptor differs from other nomu in that he is designed for agility and stealth. An invisibility quirk will not only make Raptor into the perfect phantom, it can also assist in infiltration and spying. While the quirk may be called ‘camouflage’ mainly due to how it changes skin pigmentation, it does much more than match the colors of the environment. It hides the user’s entire form as perfectly as any true invisibility quirk. Raptor should be more than capable of destroying targets without ever being noticed.
You were right. It was strange how he doesn’t discover these ‘quirks’ on his own. It was an understatement to say that he was a little lost when a Coat ordered him to activate his Camouflage. Raptor was prepared to feel those words bind his limbs and move him against his will. Whenever his brain was under the Coats’ control, he was capable of doing whatever they asked, even when he himself didn’t understand what they were asking for.
So it was worrying when he felt nothing. He heard the order loud and clear, yet it didn’t wrap around his brain like it always does.
So it wasn’t just you. His mind no longer submitted to anyone’s commands. He would have chirped in celebration if he didn’t have an audience that was still waiting for him to follow through, giving looks and comments of impatience while he stood there.
He can’t let them notice that he was unaffected. The words of the Mask that stole his touch repeated in his head along with the memories of cutting and burning, every nerve seething from raw pain until all feeling began to fade.
“If he ignores us like that again, we may need to alter his brain and ensure his compliance in the future.”
Alter...change...he doesn’t want them to change him. So Raptor tried to pretend, another thing that felt natural to him.
The process of finding his new quirk was difficult to describe; it was more like willing himself to blend in until the rest of his body got the message. All of his muscles tightened, and he almost panicked when black skin began to disappear before his eyes. His wings, his tail, every part of him looked as if it was dissolving, but he can still move and feel the weight of each limb. Once his body relaxed, he was fully invisible. The Coats kept him pinned with their stares, however.
“Completely hidden. Very good,” one of them said, writing something down. They’re always watching, always taking notes on him, always judging. This all felt familiar as well. “Now, walk from that corner to there, and keep a hold on your quirk.”
There was no pull, no sudden fuzziness or loss of control. Nothing. It’s a strange feeling, following orders because he actually chooses to. It will take some getting used to, but it shouldn’t be too difficult.
Has a monster like him ever acted before? It sure feels like it.
He performed several different tasks: running, climbing, flying, and shooting feathers. All while unseen by the naked eye. The feat even earned him a round of applause from the Coats.
“I can picture it already. He could slice apart an entire group of targets, and they wouldn’t even understand their deaths. A flurry of invisible blades!” One of them exclaimed with a smile that was way too wide given the subject matter.
“Don’t worry, we’re going to get a taste of what this is capable of right now.”
Right on cue, the doors opened. Every feather on his wings and tail bristled instantly, ready to shred whatever possible threat that may enter. They wouldn’t be able to see him. It would be so easy, just like the Coats said.
But instead of another nomu that was simpler and more violent than him, a woman was shoved into the room hard enough to make her stumble forward and fall, the door slamming shut behind her. She was dressed like you, wearing only a thin blue shirt and pants. What did they bring someone like her in here for?
She was already back on her feet, scanning the area with wide eyes and shrunken pupils before moving her gaze to the humans that continued to observe from the other side. The fear in the air was so thick that Raptor could nearly taste it as she shook uncontrollably – he wondered if her knees would collapse from the trembling alone.
He was still camouflaged; she couldn’t see him at all. The urge to reveal himself is strong, but one: the Coats had yet to order him to deactivate his quirk, and two: knowing that she was in a room with a nomu will most definitely only terrify her more, so he stayed where he was, motionless and quiet.
For a suffocating minute, the only sound was her rapid breathing until one of the Coats finally spoke up.
“Kill her, Raptor.”
“What?” The woman’s voice was constricted by anxiety. She looked timidly at the man, who only stared back expectantly, waiting for something. “W-what?” She choked out again. She switched her attention to the door, still distressed and shaking. When no horrid beast entered the room like she expected, her panic increased even more, stuttering so badly that it was a challenge to discern what she was trying to say. “I-I-I w-I won’t...I’m s-so...p-p-please.”
Her head whipped upwards to a vent in the ceiling. Nothing happened. The confused woman was now spinning around looking for something, hysterical with the knowledge that her impending doom was coming, but not knowing where or when. The weight of her dread was making him anxious.
The same Coat, however, only sighed in annoyance at the sight of the trapped panicking animal. “Don’t dawdle, Nomu.” The final word dripped with venom. It reminded him of his place: a puppet that should have no will of its own. Raptor didn’t want to kill, but if he defies them, then they will dig into his brain again, and the woman will probably be violently killed by a more enthusiastic nomu. He’s afraid of what they might take from him next. He can’t let that happen.
The shrinking woman is still whipping her head around in every direction as her bare feet take a step backwards, then another, completely unaware of the larger creature that stood right behind her. He can’t guarantee a painless death, but he can make it as quick as possible for her.
Raptor added an edge to some of his feathers, but reconsidered. That would require pinpoint accuracy, not worth the risk with a target that was moving so erratically.
His tongue curiously ran over the points of his teeth, checking their sharpness. No, that would leave too much of a mess.
His hands clenched into fists, and that’s when he practically heard the ding in his head. A simple method, but it should work just fine.
He was originally going to wait until she backed all the way into him, but that would be rather cruel. Killing her before she even recognizes the danger is a greater mercy. His hand struck with the swiftness of a snake, grabbing the back of her neck. The delicate spine could be felt beneath.
Raptor was not as strong as other nomu. That didn’t mean he couldn’t crush a human’s bones with little effort.
He felt her jolt, but that’s all she had time to do before the sickening snap and crunch sounded throughout the room, then she went limp with nothing more than a few final twitches.
Some of the Coats audibly gasped, while others clapped excitedly at the kill they couldn’t even see coming. From their perspective, an unsuspecting woman’s neck was suddenly crushed by an invisible force like an aluminum can.
One of them didn’t look very impressed. “Eh, a bit anticlimactic, don’t you think?”
“We’re not watching a bloodsport,” another one snapped. “Raptor is designed to handle matters quickly. A cervical fracture is fast and effective.”
“She was so terrible at her job. I think she deserved a terrible death in return,” another said.
Their babbling continued while Raptor placed the body on the floor more gently than his audience would have liked. Her eyes were still wide open, frozen in that moment of realization just a millisecond before death. Still, things could have been much worse for her.
“I still think we should have used his harvester instead. She’s becoming a nuisance.”
Raptor has grown to really dislike that voice, the voice of the man that takes him away every morning. He always stares at him like an expensive possession that turned out to be a waste of money. It’s an effort to keep his lips from curling over his teeth whenever the bastard’s around.
An older lady spoke. “Her relationship with the nomu is unique and warrants its own set of experiments after we cover the basics here. We already told you that.”
“Yes yes, I know. But her sample this morning was pathetic. It’s like she’s forgotten her job, too busy turning our greatest achievement into a softie. Call me petty, but I’d get a good laugh out of watching her be devoured by the nomu that she’s decided to become friends with.”
Anger.
“You are petty, and short-sighted. Do you understand just how extraordinary this relationship is?”
Another Coat butted in. “Sure, but what use is sentiment to a nomu? This was supposed to be a cold lethal predator, not a child that likes to draw on walls. I agree that the bond with its harvester is holding it back. It would be better off without her.”
Raptor hates it. He doesn’t want any of them talking about you. To think that they’d consider something as twisted as offering you to him as a helpless prisoner to execute, just like the one whose spine he had just snapped.
How dare they.
The lady was suddenly staring right at him with a look of shock before her aged lips curled into a smirk. Actually, everyone was staring at him now, and they all showed varying levels of discomfort. That’s when he noticed that he can see his hands in front of him again, along with his feet, wings, and the rest of his body. His fury made him lose his hold on the Camouflage quirk. They had all just seen his face of hatred.
And yet the lady continued to smile. “I don’t believe he agrees with you two.”
She then whispered something, lips forming what looked like the word ���magnificent’ while her eyes bore into him. Even his rage was nothing more than a fascinating process to be examined.
Raptor wants to get out of here.
x---x---x---x---x
You’re alright. You made it out. You were bruised, but you made it out.
That High-End nearly broke your fucking arm when it came. It was always a pretty rough one when you jerked it off but for god’s sake, why did it always have to squeeze you like a stress ball? Thankfully, your painful shriek of “STOP!” was enough to penetrate the horny shield over its brain and it released you.
It wasn’t your first injury, but it’s been a while since you’ve gotten such a scare. It could’ve been worse – it could always be much worse.
The fact that you feel elated when you reach Hawks’s room shows how close the two of you have gotten in less than a week. Two prisoners who agree that this place can go fuck itself; one was pumping cocks on the daily, the other failed miserably at being a ruthless monster. They ought to make a movie out of this.
You enter the room to see him resting in the center while several feathers carve into different areas of the walls and ceiling. His understanding of shapes was becoming more complex at a rapid rate, if the current drawings were anything to go by. They looked to be unintentionally abstract faces, varying greatly in size and structure, but one thing they all had in common was oversized eyes. Every face was furiously scratched in, the sound of chiseling surrounding you and adding to the ominous aura given off by the etchings that lacked skill but teemed with raw emotion.
The scattered claw marks from yesterday are still as visible as ever. Everyday, this place looks more disturbing even with the not-so-hostile creature that occupies it.
Something prompts his feathers to stop abruptly and return to him, followed by him quickly standing up and hissing. The badly-timed hostility makes you jump back. “Raptor? What is it?” You tried to stay calm as usual.
He drew closer, eyes narrowed and teeth bared at the purplish welts on the arm that held your gazillionth jar. Oh, of course. You waved with you uninjured one. “It’s alright. One of the High Ends was being a little heavy-handed. It stings, but it’ll get better.”
Hot air hits you when he releases a snort. While he studies the bruise, you continue to examine the newest artful additions. “So...what do all of these mean?” You ask.
He follows your traveling gaze and mutters. “Watching. They’re always watching.”
He said it so smoothly that it gave you chills. “You’re tripping up less on your words. That’s, uh, good.” When a grunt is his only response, you keep talking. “Are these the doctors?” He nodded. “Did you...have to kill again?”
A beat. Then he nods again, more slowly this time. “It was easier.”
You’re not sure what to say to that, deciding to instead rest a hand on his arm. For some reason, what he said didn’t scare you. It was you who asked him to act more like a nomu, anyway.
You both stayed like that for a few minutes, standing side-by-side in the middle of the room’s crude composition that illustrated his short life. Innocence, rage, and now a feeling of powerlessness. You can relate; your progress here was very similar except that the ‘innocence’ part can be replaced with ‘grief’, having lost contact with everything you were familiar with.
“You know, maybe I can add my own additions to this sometime, if you don’t mind. Make this place our own little mural.” You giggle when his tail swings at the proposal. “There’s no way they haven’t noticed how odd of a duo we are by now. I wonder how those assholes feel about all of this.”
You’re grabbed and pulled into him so quickly that the jar slips out of your grip, rolling away as you’re pushed into a hard black chest. The tight embrace squeezes your swollen arm painfully. “Shit, that hurts!”
He whines apologetically and loosens his hold. Pain and lack of oxygen aside, it’s oddly comforting. You haven’t been hugged in ages, and here you were being held by this. A song of soft coos calm you, but there is a noticeable sad tone to them. You look up at him, chin resting on his pecs. “Raptor, I know it sucks here, and I don’t really know what to say to make things better, but I’ll keep trying to hang out with you for as long as I can, alright?” You reassure him while rubbing his chest. “Remember, you’re kind of the best thing that ever happened to this place. Not that my standards in this shithole are very high – they’re actually lower than a regular nomu’s sex drive – but it’s still an achievement you should be proud of.”
Your words did their job, if his lighter hums are anything to go by. His comforting heat was gone too soon when he gently pushed you back, following up with a press of lips against yours.
There’s no more clumsiness in his movements. He switched from light brushes that had you craving more to deep smooches that took your breath away. There wasn’t much else you could do except follow his lead. The teasing licks against your lips never fail to get you going, and he probably knows that by now. Unfortunately, you had to break apart for a breather, allowing him to cradle you as he waited.
“Who the hell have you been kissing while I’m not around to learn so fast?” You joked.
You didn’t expect him to look away and hesitate to answer before uttering, “I...remembered.”
If he was expecting that to upset you, it didn’t. You can’t stop his brain from working, and he no longer automatically gives in to any demands. You still don’t know what’s up with that. “Right,” you sighed. “Are you remembering anything else?”
“No...same things. Hawks...fire...death...I want to forget.” He pulls you in again, this time taking care not to add too much pressure to your bruises. His strangled attempts at speech have become smoother over the days, but hearing the winged hero beneath the layers of grotesque sounds that create his voice is going to take a long time to get used to. “Can...you...make me forget?”
A twinge of sadness and pity. Are his final moments the only parts that keep playing in his head, in a cruel loop? You direct all of your strength into your voice and speak. “Forget about it. Forget about Hawks and all of those foggy memories.”
He sits there and blinks with no clear sign that your words had any effect.
Then he wilts and groans in defeat.
“No good, huh?” You shrug. You truly did wish you could help him. “There’s not much else I can do, sorry.” A pause. “Must feel like nightmares, I guess. I get plenty of those.” You rest in his hold while recalling some of the fears that manifest in your sleep. “Dreams about what they’ll do when they don’t need me anymore. I never had the guts to put myself out of my misery – don’t have many options to work with anyway. Maybe I can ask a nomu to chomp my head off.”
“No.” The word was growled out, felt all around you like a small quake. You quickly try to calm him by raising your uninjured arm to hold and caress his face. You know that he couldn’t exactly feel it anymore, but the memory of your touch is probably what still managed to soothe him. It was an intimate image, touching him so lovingly while in his arms.
“Don’t worry, I’ll stick around. We can make things easier for each other.” Without a second thought, you straighten up and begin pushing down your pants, Hawks already chirping in excitement and fumbling with your shirt, his talons ripping the cloth. You were naked in front of him once again, and the memories of yesterday already have your pussy lubricating itself in preparation. Samples...semen….you weren’t thinking about any of that. You just wanted him again.
“Let’s help each other forget.”
And just like that, you were devoured. His mouth was everywhere and you happily took it all. You were addicted to his touch as much as he was addicted to your flavor. The dark blue tongue moved gracefully across your face, the small grin and lidded eyes telling you that he quite enjoyed the sight of you covered in his saliva. You opened your mouth wide as an invitation that he gladly took, the strong muscle charging straight into your mouth and hitting the back of your throat. It makes you gag and has tears pricking at your eyes, yet you continue to throb between your legs.
He fucks your mouth so fast and roughly that you’re forced to only breathe through your nose. You’re clinging onto him as you gurgle around the ravaging muscle, your nails unable to pierce his tough hide no matter how hard you grip.
Something solid rubs right against your sex, grazing your clit and leaving you moaning into his mouth. His hips were bucking into the air with a very prominent tent that constricted his growing cock.
It’s the first time a nomu’s dick actually touches you there.
And it makes your walls clench.
You get closer for more friction, trying to grind against the massive erection while he finally removes his tongue from your mouth. That’s when he notices just how hard you’re trying to get off on his bulge.
Heat is rushing to your face at his puzzled expression. “You-” You gasp, still catching your breath after having him squirm down your throat for so long. “You feel pretty good.”
He simply watches you continue to rub against him – you don’t even notice that his hips are no longer moving, you just press closer to him and grind harder in desperation. His wings flutter and the rest of his body shakes lightly, his breaths coming out in short huffs.
He was laughing.
The look of amusement is so unexpected that it has your hips stopping out of embarrassment. And here you thought nothing else could leave you flustered at this point. “You don’t have to laugh. Trust me, you’ve looked way more desperate than I have,” You tease him.
He clicks his tongue, then with a yank and a loud rip, his shorts are in tatters and his cock springs free right onto your belly. Another short round of huffs are heard from him when you squeak in surprise. Just where did this attitude even come from?
Beads of precum ooze from his pointed head and drip onto your stomach. Maybe it’s your lust-tinted lenses, but his cock is looking much more attractive than usual. Its curved perfectly to hit all of the right spots, and those ridges probably feel amazing when moving inside you.
“Want more?”
The low-pitched voice right in your ear has you shaking, like it was a question from the Devil himself. Thirst aside, you don’t know what you should say. You trust that he won’t fuck you to shreds like the other High Ends would, but the biggest issue…
“I don’t know if I should risk that,” you murmur, a hand reaching to rub the textured flesh. “As tempting as it is right now.”
His confidence is replaced with disappointment. That is, until he immediately perks back up and grabs your hips.
“Wait what are yoooo-whoa!” You’re being lifted off the floor, legs dangling uselessly as he holds you easily, your body hovering right over his twitching dick.
Panic begins to set in. “No! Nononono I said-”
“I won’t.” He says softly. As softly as he can with such a voice, at least. “Calm.”
Instead of penetrating like you feared, he lowers you until your flushed lips are resting on the length of his scaly shaft.
And then, slowly, his hips push forward.
The bumps and creases slide against you in all of the right ways. “Oooh fuck.” You adjust yourself to ensure that he rubs your clit as well. The sensation has you shuddering in his hands as the pressure inside you builds quickly. Your slick makes his dick smoother after each thrust, and when Hawks sees that you’re comfortable and lost in the rhythm, he begins to speed up.
Your legs are swinging madly at a complete loss on how to handle the electrifying friction, but the nomu grunts and takes hold of your thighs. They close around his cock, greatly increasing the pressure as he continued to fuck past your thighs. “Stay there.” The vibration from his deep raspy voice only arouses you more. His hips collide with yours after each buck.
As amazing as it feels, your hazy mind recalls that Hawks shouldn’t be able to properly revel in this outercourse. “I-I thought...you couldn’t feel this.” You say shakily.
Hawks is eyeing your bouncing form with great interest, his hips not missing a beat as he answered. “Can’t. Just watching.”
He presses down on you more, slowing down his pace with his eyes still locked on your face. His tongue quickly swipes across your forehead to taste the sweat that has mixed with his saliva. “You look good.”
Goddamn him.
You felt close, so close, but even as your limbs tingle from the pleasure, your orgasm remained out of reach. The most severe ache that had yet to be sated, to be given any attention, was inside you. You have never throbbed this much in your life, you didn’t even know that your muscles down there could even contract this tightly. The dragging of his cock against your drenched lips isn't enough. You don’t care about risk anymore. Not after feeling what he has to offer.
There’s no voice telling you how stupid you’re being right now. It already gave up on you.
Good.
“Haw–shit–Raptor, inside. I need you inside.” You beg between your moans. He stills completely, which has you whining and squirming even more.
“Inside?”
Hearing him say it sobers you up a bit, but not enough to kill your desire. “Just pull out before you cum, alright? Think you can do that?” You ask.
He nods eagerly, wings and tail moving with glee as he lifts you off of his dick that was already lubed up by your natural fluids. He angles himself until the head is pressing at your twitching entrance.
You can’t tell if you’re trembling from excitement or fear. Probably both.
The fine tip already has you being stretched wide, burning and stinging in spite of your pussy’s preparation. It makes you wince and want to close your eyes – to create some distance between you and the pain – but your curiosity has you looking down to watch him enter you, inch by inch. You can once again see your stomach distend as it attempts to accommodate the large intrusion, much bigger than the slithery tongue that previously invaded it.
But it’s exactly what you craved, the unique texture feeling even more delicious when inside of you. Your toes curl and legs quiver from his girth; not as meaty as the other dicks that you’ve treated, just enough extra thickness to give you a stretch that you’ve never experienced, without causing serious harm.
He reaches the end of your cavern with a few more inches to spare, and the drawn out moan slipping past his lips surprises both of you. You try to relax around him while he fights the urge to move. Black shaky wings expand behind him.
“Feel…” He gasped and choked, one would think that he was trying to learn speech all over again. “Can feel...squeezing. So gooood.” The last word came out as a strong rasp against your face.
The new discovery has you smiling, one of your hands rubbing at a much larger one around your waist. “You can feel it? You feel how tight I am, Raptor? How badly I want you to stay inside me and never leave?” He may not be able to feel your heat or your dampness, but it looks like he can’t escape the pressure from a cunt’s death grip.
He twitches inside, making you jolt. Oh, how quickly the tables have turned.
You scratch under his chin. Numb as he is, he still tilts his head like a pet dying for affection. “Then I want you to fuck me. Stop thinking, and just move...” You bring your face close to his, pulling off a seductive look and tone even when impaled on him. “...Just like a good nomu.”
Perhaps Hawks had a submissive kink when he was alive. It would explain why that riled him up so much that he was already slamming into you with absolutely no warning.
It hurts. It hurts so fucking good. Every thrust tears a helpless cry out of your body. The scales grind against every nerve around your hole, while the ones deeper inside nudge your velvety walls as they move in and out, in and out.
You couldn’t talk between your screams, not with how violently he was pounding you. Your arms and legs wrapped around him and hung on for dear life with your face buried in the crook of his neck. His own muscular arms wrap around you in a deceptively loving embrace, pumping into you with a rhythmic smack smack smack. All you can do is reap what you sow and take it.
This wasn’t just for you, this was for Hawks as well. You gave him something that he could feel again. What began as whiny gasps for air soon became rolling growls that vocalize a need for more.
Your orgasm barely sticks out of the continuous blinding pleasure as he plows harder through your spasms, your contracting muscles wrestling with the merciless cock to hold it inside.
His tone is dark. Vicious. “Tight. So tight!”
It makes your greedy body want even more. “Oh, good job, Raptor. Such a good boy.” You praise him, feeling the brief falter in his movements. He really does like that. “Go ahead and take it all, as much as you need-ah. Don’t worry about me. Fuck me until I can’t think.”
The violent sex stops and you’re being ripped away from that wondrous cock in the blink of an eye. Before you can even question what’s happening, your world begins to spin until you’re suddenly on the floor. You’re getting adjusted onto your hands and knees right before being pierced again with a force that shoves you forward.
Your thoughts struggle to keep up with the lightning-fast sequence of events, hindered even more by the warmth of the body hovering right over you. Hawks too was on all fours, though he looked much more comfortable and natural, wings fully spread out in a proud and dominant display as he throbbed inside of you.
His hips snap forward, already at a rapid pace that rocks you with each hard impact and soon has you howling again. The floor was filled with uneven cracks and scratches that scraped your knees, not that the discomfort was easy to notice while you were being drilled into. As you latched onto one of his arms for support, you noticed right in front of you, was your first game of tic tac toe.
Drool dripped down from the snarling jaws above you and onto the innocent group of lines and shapes.
The mounting beast humped you with every ounce of energy he had. Your aching pussy couldn’t take it. Too hard...too big... you’re cumming again around his pistoning cock, moans melting into defeated sobs. The huge pair of swinging balls occasionally smacked right into your oversensitive clit. You were losing the will to hold yourself up, gripping his supportive arm more tightly while your thighs quivered. Even if you had the strength to, you had no plans to ask the feral savage to stop.
He currently wasn’t anything like the gentle experiment you’ve befriended in just a few days. Right now, with his head thrashing around and flinging spittle everywhere as he barked, and wings beating hard against the floor, he was terrifying. Powerful, hungry, and single-minded.
So this is what it’s like to give in to a nomu.
It’s scary.
It’s thrilling.
Every fast agonizing stroke right against your cervix takes your breath away, your mouth eventually just hanging open in an attempt to capture whatever oxygen it could into your lungs. Hawks curls into himself so that he can crane his neck and look at you, saliva flowing freely down his chin. Each breath came out as a throaty growl wafting against your sweaty face. He takes one look at your parted lips, and stuffs you with his tongue.
If your thoughts were more coherent at the moment, you’d wonder how the hell the muscle was strong enough to be able to move into your throat as hard as the dick that continued to wreck your insides. His hips assisted in gagging you even more with each thrust. The threat of asphyxiation only brought you closer to your next orgasm.
Your mind was empty, save for the immoral thoughts that have long since driven off their more honorable competition.
Just use me.
Your entire body was on fire, getting pummeled from both ends.
Just use me however the fuck you want.
Hawks is suddenly bombarding your cunt with short and speedy ruts of his hips, and that does it. Your limbs give out and leave you to plop onto the floor as your pleasure blooms all over. But his long tongue follows you, still pushing into your whimpering mouth to deprive you of much-needed air. He simply lowers himself and proceeds to fuck you hard into the ground, pressing your skin into his many carvings.
His tongue leaves...your eyes rolling back….
Hawks releases a horrid cry that sounds like both a roar and a bird-like shriek.
Exhaustion…
Hawks is too lost in the surprising sensations, dull but still intense, to realize that he’s shooting his thick load into your womb
Warmth...full...sleep.
x---x---x---x---x
“Get up.”
The voice is muffled as you slowly come to. Whatever you’re resting on doesn’t feel like your bed.
“I know you’re awake. Hurry and get up.”
You’re surrounded by warmth, by something breathing. Pain shoots through your back and legs when you stir. When you open your eyes, you see the golden eyes of a High End.
The fear does well in masking your aches as you scramble out of the arms of what turned out to be Hawks, who was lounging on his side like a giant cat.
And standing at the door, was the damned doctor that you had the privilege of seeing every day.
His stare looked even more judgmental than it usually did. Full-on disgusted, actually. Realizing that you’re still naked, you grab one of Hawks’s wings that were splayed out on the floor to shield yourself.
He simply shakes his head. “I’ve already seen enough. And heard enough.”
Oh shit.
Oh shit.
“I-I…” you stammer, panic rising in your chest as you’re unable to come up with any sort of explanation. You even turn to Hawks, like he’d somehow provide you with the answer.
“I normally don’t care what deplorable methods you people use to collect your samples, but going by the filth between your legs...” That prompts you to look down, and the second you do, you already feel a dense fluid oozing out of you and running down your legs that were stained with white. “...you actually allowed Raptor to inseminate you.”
His words, along with your accelerating heartbeat, thunders in your ears. Hawks is watching his seed leak from your raw pussy. He remains still and quiet, uncertain of how to act in the presence of a doctor.
“To think that someone would deliberately let a nomu breed them. I know that the two of you have gotten close,” His eyes skimmed past the many images and markings in the room. “But just how depraved do you have to be to go this far with a nomu?”
If this was before the days you allowed Hawks to touch you, you would have felt embarrassed. You are scared. Not only did he cum inside you, you’ve also been caught right after the act.
But any sort of shame?
You had the nerve to huff, still hiding your body from him not out of shyness, but because the asshole didn’t deserve the view. “I guess we’re all sick fucks around here,” you retort.
The glare on his glasses add to the intimidation factor of his glower. He takes a step forward and gives a quick tilt of his head. “Get dressed. You’re coming with me.”
Both you and Hawks are taken back. “For what?”
He scowls even harder. “Still asking questions? You’re lucky that you’re valuable right now. You have most likely been impregnated. This is an unexpected opportunity to observe one of Raptor’s offspring. We’ll be watching over you until the birth.”
You don’t move, still soaking in every word. This most definitely was a mistake. Not only are you going to be taken away from Hawks to be cooped up in a room with constant surveillance, you’re going to have a...fuck.
You feel the wing in your grasp vibrate softly, Hawks sensing your distress and attempting to silently reassure you.
“I said get dressed,” the doctor ordered impatiently. “Or are you still basking in the afterglow?” He snickered at his own joke before walking forward, ready to take you by force.
That’s when the nomu in the room finally stood up to step right in front of you, standing tall in all of his naked glory and easily towering over the man.
You had to give the guy credit for not looking phased by the very dangerous creature blocking his path. Then again, maybe he was just so sure that Hawks wouldn’t harm him in any way.
“Out of the way, Raptor.” Strong and firm. It’s the tone that ensures a nomu’s obedience, but you know by now that Hawks’s mind has grown beyond that.
As expected, Hawks doesn’t budge, still looking down with eyes of liquid gold.
The doctor only looks more annoyed, not afraid. “I knew you were defective,” he sneered. “Always hesitating during tests. Such wasted potential, yet the others insist on keeping you around. To do what? Decorate rooms? The idiots should have altered your brain by now.”
What?
Hawks still didn’t move. The lack of reaction was beginning to get to the man’s nerves, his hands balling into fists as he contemplated what action to take next. You stayed mostly hidden behind Hawks, anxiously looking past his wings.
When he accepted that the nomu wasn’t going to move, and forcing his way past him was too dangerous of an option, he smirked. “Fine, then. You’re only making yourself look worse. I’m certain I can convince them to move forward with that operation after they see how defiant you’re being right now.”
No! You feel so damn useless. The bastard wanted to change him into something more compliant. How much would that change Hawks himself? You don’t know if there’s anything you can do that won’t just end with you being thrown into the lion’s den.
The doctor placed two fingers to his temple. Fuck, his quirk.
“Backup needed in South Hall, room five o’ ni-”
He stopped. Pure shock took over his face, words replaced with the faintest choked sounds. You truly considered asking if he was feeling alright.
Until a thin line of red appeared at his throat, blood oozing out, the bleeding getting heavier by the second.
“What. The. Fuck?” Your breaths were becoming too short as you watched him crumple, the liquid crimson quickly pooling around him. “What the fuck is going on?”
The confusion and fear was making you delirious. God, you were going to pass out again, this is too fucking much, this asshole was about to take you away because you have a monster growing inside you and then he was going to turn Hawks into a regular High End but now he’s dead but who the fuck killed him and what’s about to happen to you-
“Calm.”
A large hand on your shoulder grounds you, steadying your breathing and expanding your tunnel vision. Hawks is in front of you, releasing soft coos.
“Wha–how–wha…” Your shaky lips are unable to form words, but he seems to understand. Something materializes right in front of you. Small, black, and sharp. It’s a feather, floating between the both of you. “What?” You finally spit out.
“Camouflage,” that’s all he says, as if that explains everything. Since when was he able t-
Whatever. There’s too much shit happening right now.
Still shaking, you look to see the doctor still bleeding, some of the blood flowing into the engravings and painting them red.
“Y-you killed him?” You whisper.
He nods, staring apathetically at the body.
“But, I thought you didn’t…” You trailed off, too stunned by everything that has happened to finish.
He turned his attention back to you, red irises – as red as the blood that continued flow – staring into your frightened eyes. “It gets easier.”
Once again, you’re not sure what to say to that.
He looks to the door. “More coming soon.”
Right, whoever the doctor was contacting must be wondering why his telepathy was suddenly cut off.
“I want to leave.”
“Leave? Like, you want to escape?” Another nod. “That’s...I don’t know if that’s possible. There are villains around here. Strong villains. Shit, they might release some of the nomu on us!”
“You want to stay?”
Your mouth opens, then closes.
“I’m strong, and fast.” His wings unfurl and sharpen every feather, his tail curling around you so that you can see the knifelike plumes on it. “Can heal very fast and blend in. Can do a lot.”
The display and simple explanation reminds you that you haven’t seen any of his combative skills firsthand. This is what they made him for.
Well then…
“Right, then how about we give them a final test?” Just when you were finally calming down, adrenaline is already being pumped back into your veins. “Let’s show them how unstoppable their latest work is.”
His little peep of agreement nearly ruined the moment, but it reminds you why you’ve grown so fond of him.
He turns around and crouches, motioning you to climb onto his back and wrap your arms around his neck. It was awkward, mostly due to the wings that you were squishing under you, but when you voiced your worries he just gave you an “It’s fine.” He warned you to hang on extra tightly whenever he gets low to the ground. He’s a much faster runner on all fours.
Stepping over the corpse that has bled dry, he stopped at the door and braced himself.
“Ready?”
Your arms and legs were secured around him. You breathed in through your nose then out through your mouth.
Breath in. Breathe out.
A lot of death and destruction is probably about to come your way.
Breathe in. Breathe out.
It would be great if you never had to fill another jar ever again.
Breathe in. Breathe out.
Your clammy skin hasn’t felt sunlight in fucking forever. Are the heroes even still alive out there?
Breathe in. Breathe out.
You try not to think about what’s happening in your womb.
“I’m ready.”
The door is pushed open.
x---x---x---x---x
Targets first spotted at 12:50
The old surveillance cameras flicker and lag. It makes noticing the running black figure all the more difficult. On most screens, you’ll see nothing more than a blur. There will be the occasional confrontation with villains, sometimes accompanied by researchers with incapacitation quirks. More often than not, the escapees easily outmaneuver them, crawling and leaping on every surface and zooming past their potential captors before they can even follow.
Some of the stronger villains and nomu slow the duo down only briefly before they collapse from an unseen force. The recovered bodies possessed deep cuts across major arteries or accurate punctures in their major organs.
Some footage shows the two sometimes climbing into vents, temporarily escaping the cameras.
The woman on the High End’s back was injured during the fatal showdown at the hospital’s exit, enraging it to the point where it swiftly killed everyone in its vicinity, including fleeing researchers that were only caught in the crossfire.
Targets escaped facility at 13:09
x---x---x---x---x
Subject: Raptor
SUBJECT HAS ESCAPED.
NOMU IS HIGHLY DANGEROUS. TAKE EVERY PRECAUTION IN RETRIEVING IT.
Some things are too good to be true. It turned out that Raptor’s brain has, shall we say, faulty wiring. Several observations have noted him hesitating upon certain commands. This should not be a constant problem with any High End. I don’t understand why they did not immediately work on this issue. It’s possible that they feared irreversible changes to his unique mind.
I personally believe that many of these flaws are the result of a compassionate host. The hero Hawks was unmistakably a gifted combatant, probably the most gifted individual the facility has gotten their hands on, but his attitude did not translate well into the role of a nomu. On the bright side, I never thought I’d ever see nomu, let alone a High End, show such genuine fondness over a human. I believe it’s worth another try in the future.
But for now, we should stick to what works. There are more than enough lowly criminals to go around.
#Hawks#smut#nomu#noumu#terato#monster fucking#hawks x reader#shh the doctors don't know about shirakumo#happy october?#tw blood#tw death
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Checkmate — Eren Jaeger
summary: A vicious cycle where you and Eren fight over who gets to light the match while dousing each other in gasoline.
warnings: toxic relationship, manipulation, domestic altercation, slut-shaming, gaslighting, cheating, heavy cursing, suggestive themes, mentions of alcohol and marijuana use, fem!reader (she/her)
genre: modern au, angst (?)
word count: 3.4k
a/n: my venus scorpio hates to love Eren lmao pls don’t think this is a healthy relationship, (lmk if i forgot any other warnings pls), this was on repeat while i wrote, hope you enjoy it <3 (again, pls lmk if I missed anything!) and stay safe!
You knew it was wrong. Everything about you and him was wrong. Nothing could justify it anymore, you knew that much. You didn't think you could lose yourself in the game, but you had.
And, all of it was Eren's fault.
He didn't worry about feelings, responsibilities, or duty. He didn't care if he came back later than he said he would you, if he left you waiting in that pretty dress you had picked out just for him.
And, you loathed that about him. You loathed that Eren Jaeger was free. Totally and utterly free of everything and anything. Nothing would hold him back. He wouldn't allow it to come to pass.
He had his freedom, but you had something else.
You questioned things when you weren't satisfied with the answer you had been given. You did things just to see what would happen after. You pushed people just to see how long it would take from them to fall over the edge.
You had often been told you were simply too much to deal with. That you pushed people's buttons until they no longer wanted to be around you. That you stole parts of their sanity until they had no choice other than to run away.
But, you never saw it like that. You didn't mean to be a parasite who ate away at people's peace and patience. You simply liked testing your boundaries.
So, you preferred the word curious.
Maybe Eren had been walking around the earth without shackles his entire life, but you knew everyone was a prisoner to something, even someone like him.
Naturally, you wanted to see what it would take for Eren to break. He was so shameless, so completely free of any care in the world. Eren obeyed his own rules and his alone. He was such an inconsistent asshole half the time, but you couldn't help yourself.
You wouldn't forgive yourself if you had looked away from that charming smile and those pretty teal eyes.
Despite the facade of him being a simple-minded person, you found out what was truly hiding underneath the mask.
Eren was intemperate with a sharp tongue and a loud mouth. He did things his way, and there would be no other option. There was such a mix of emotions boiling inside him, it was like it was asking to be disrupted.
How could you not indulge yourself?
You knew it would be gratifying to see how he would react when backed into a corner. Would he cry like the others? Would he fall to his knees and beg for your forgiveness? Or, would he shut down?
How long would it take for him to leave you?
Eren was already known to be hot-headed, and you wondered what it was like to burn. You figured it wouldn't take long to find out how far you could push him. He was the crybaby type, so you didn't think he would be hard to crack.
But, he wasn't like the others.
See, Eren Jaeger wasn't a person who would easily crack. He wasn't the guy who gave up under pressure. In fact, he was the complete opposite. He was a fighter, and he would stop at nothing till victory was his.
It was only too bad for him that you were the same. Your thirst would only be quenched when you saw him break. You needed it more than you had ever needed anything.
You pushed, and he pushed harder. You shouted, and he shouted louder. You bitched and moaned and complained and did awful things to him, and Eren did them right back.
It was an endless cycle between the two of you.
You would do something to tick him off. Maybe it was telling him how Jean looked so sexy in black or how Armin's intelligence was out of this world you didn't know how he wasn't dating anyone.
Perhaps you were a parasite who ate away at your own liberty to do what you wished. You stretched yourself to push him into a corner, and it always worked.
Whatever it was, Eren would explode on you. You knew it pushed his buttons, it fucked with his mind, and that's why you did it. Because maybe it would be the day he finally gave in to the pain you inflicted on him and leave you for good.
Sometimes it would be him doing something that rubbed you the wrong way. Perhaps you wore something too short, so he called you a whore before fucking you like one. Or, he didn't answer your texts all night because he was with God-knows-who.
You shouted at him, called him all sorts of different names, and even trashed his apartment if you felt like it. Eren would fight with you, blame you for pushing him far enough as to dip a toe in the unforgiving pool of infidelity, and the two of you wouldn't speak for a week or so.
"I can't even walk around my own damn apartment without you being so annoying!" Eren shouted with so much force you held back a flinch. He took a few deep breaths to calm himself down, green eyes wondering about the room.
You didn't know if he was shit-faced, high, or a mix of both. You didn't care anymore. It seemed like you had been arguing for hours, but who really knew? All perception of time was lost on you when you were around Eren.
All this started because he asked you to stay the night at his apartment. He usually preferred to go out and have some fun around town, but this was his way of making it up to you for leaving you stranded at the restaurant on your last date.
Well, it was a way for the both of you to make up with each other. Before Eren decided to steal your phone and drive away without you, the waiter serving you had left his number for you. It was only the consequence of your actions earlier that night.
You spent most of the evening flirting with him every chance you got. Batting your eyelashes at him, leaning against the table the slightest so he could get a peak of the dainty little necklace that sat pretty on your cleavage.
He wasn't even that attractive, really — you and Eren both knew that — but he still let his emotions get the best of him. If there was one thing you could trust to be consistent it was his red-hot anger.
"Don't leave when I'm talking to you!" Eren ordered, green eyes blazing hard at the back of your head. He watched you walked around the house, following you to continue your argument. "What? You're gonna go and cry like a little bitch now?"
"Why can't you leave me alone, Eren?!" you screamed, grabbing your sweater and shoving it into your bag. You turned around only to find him inches from your face. "I'm not staying here if you're gonna be a dick!"
He let out a dry chuckle as you continued gathering your things. "What a perfect fucking excuse to go fuck that jerk in your class, right?" Eren hissed, reaching to grab your arm. "Gosh, can't you ever just keep your legs closed for a night?!"
"Keep my legs closed?!" you shot back, shoving him away from you. "You're the one who's been out doing who-knows-what, Eren! You're the one who comes home with lipstick stains from whichever whore you fucked!"
"You shouldn't talk about your friends like that."
You snapped your neck to him.
His face was stony with his jaw clenched, and his hands balled up in fists. None of those things frightened you, though; it was those eyes of him. Those pretty green eyes that had once stared at you so sweetly, so lovingly long ago.
Now, all you could see were glaciers in his irises.
You swallowed down the thick lump in your throat. "You are such a fucking dick." you declared, averting your gaze from his cold one. You advanced to the door, but he caught your arm in his grip again.
"Let go of me." you ordered, attempting to pry his hand off your arm, but he wouldn't budge. "Fuck, Eren. Are you fucking stupid and deaf? I said—"
Your voice got caught in your throat when he shoved you against the wall of his bedroom. He had you caged in, one hand pinning you to the wall and the other right beside you.
It seemed like Eren learned from the last time he tried to keep you from escaping. His last efforts of getting you to stay put were always futile, and you somehow still managed to break away every time.
He always tried to grab you a second time, but you left his cheek with a bright red outline of your palm, smacking him good and hard before leaving his apartment in a fray.
None of your past escapes mattered right now, so you continued squirming around in effort to release yourself from his iron clutch. "Wow, I guess you're not as stupid as you look." you scoffed, your other hand clawing at his.
"Don't be such a bitch." Eren ordered, but you continued your attempts to leave that were only feeble against his strength.
"Why don't you go with your other girlfriends, hmm?" You scoffed, reaching for his wrist and struggling to release your arm. "Tch, Eren, you're fucking hurting me. Stop—"
He brought you towards him, pulling you into his arms. You let out a grunt of disapproval as you tried to shimmy out of his crushing hug. "Oh, my gosh, let me go! I don't want you!" you protested, pushing your hand against his hard chest to create space between you, but he thrusted you back into his chest.
"Don't be such a bitch." Eren murmured into your ear. He had one hand wrapped around your upper back, keeping you close to him, while the other held your wrist tightly to stop you from pushing him away.
His shirt still smelled like the cologne you gifted him for his last birthday. Eren was extra kind to you that day, holding your hand and giving you kisses on the cheek.
The fresh scent was familiar on your nose. You breathed it in, allowing yourself to give in to his touch. "I'm not a bitch." you told him, closing your eyes. You hoped it would help you travel back in time to that beautiful spring day.
He only grunted in response, leaning his head against the top of yours. You felt the slight brush of air down your neck when he let out a sigh. The hand that held your wrist released it, finding purchase on your waist.
A few moments of silence passed between the two of you. Eren's fingers found solace in the ends of your hair. You hadn't realized how much his words affected you until you felt your hair twirl around his fingers.
Did he really think you were a bitch? Is that why as much as you loved his cologne, you could still smell the unfamiliar scent of someone else on him?
If he cared about you, why would he leave you alone in his messy apartment all night? Why would he even bother inviting you? Why did he make an effort to speak to you so lovely that your heart fluttered?
"I just wanted to have a nice time with my girl, and you're making that so difficult. Why?" Eren questioned softly, a strand of your hair between his fingers. "Why do you go out of your way to do shit that irritates me?"
Tears prickled your eyes. "I could ask you the same thing." you replied, holding back the urge to sniffle. How could you not cry when he hurt you? You loved him with so much of yourself, and everything he did seemed like it was just to cause you harm.
"You're so mean to me, Eren. You never treat me like you should."
"I know." he said, the movement of his mouth against your head. "I don't mean to treat you like that, baby. I'm sorry. I really am." You didn't believe him, though. You didn't even want to look into his eyes because you feared you would be right.
You let out a sigh, wiping the tear that escaped the corner of your eye on his shirt. "You're bad for me, Eren." you stated, turning your head to rest against his shoulder. "You're a bad guy and a bad boyfriend. You cheat on me and call my names, and you make me cry."
Eren hummed, rubbing your back in circles. "I'll be better. I'll try harder this time." he offered, his tone almost sounding pleading on your ears. "I promise I'll do better for you."
You didn't believe it. Eren couldn't do better. He was sick with an incurable disease. He no longer felt safe in his own body. He couldn't trust his thoughts to lead him to the correct answer. It all started when he met you, and your infection spread throughout his entire system.
You had infiltrated his way of thinking and acting, his way of feeling and speaking. Eren Jaeger would never be the same person he was before he met you.
He couldn't hide his disdain when he was around his friends, not with all the remarks you made of them. Did you really think Jean was better looking than him? Was it his hair?
Maybe he should start spending more time in the library. Would that make him him look smarter in your eyes? Would you come to him for help with your homework or would you still go to Armin?
And, it was in your silence that his questions of doubt were answered. "You don't believe me." Eren stated as if he were reading the very thoughts from your mind.
A bolt of lightning shot through your spine at his tone. This was the side of your boyfriend you hadn't quite figured out yet. He could loving and playful and crack jokes all day, and mean and standoffish where he wouldn’t even look at you, but he could also be fucking sadist.
His fist curled into the roots of your hair, yanking your head back to meet his gaze. There was a sharp ache pounding on the back of your head, but you forgot all about it when you saw the slight curl of his lip.
"No one else would put up with you. You know that, don't you?" Eren asked you, green eyes appearing darker than they ever had. "You know no one would ever give you the time of day like I do."
"I know." you managed to tell him, leaning into where he gripped your hair to ease the pain you felt.
"Do you?" he questioned, raising a brow.
You tried your best to keep the hammering of your heart against your chest from showing on your face. Eren may have been a sadist, but he wasn't the only one.
"Yes, Eren." you stated, deciding to take a risk and place a gentle hand on his shoulder. You felt him tense under your touch. "You misunderstand me. I only what what's best for you and me. That's all I ever wanted."
He furrowed a brow at your words.
Sure, you would admit that Eren had power over you. He was stronger than you, taller than you, quicker than you. He was the one who had your back against a wall, and it was your hair in his fist.
But, you had something he didn't. You honed the skill he wouldn't be able to polish for years to come. He may have been overly aggressive and carried the ability to make an environment where he would always be the person with the most power, but you had experience.
And, that was something he couldn’t create.
"I've done so much for you, Eren. Why would I go through all this struggle if I didn't want to be with you?" you explained, forcing a pout on your lips. "Is that how you feel about me?"
His grip on your head began to loosen. "No," Eren forced out, eyebrows so scrunched forward they lost their sharpness. "That's not what I want. I was—"
"If you know that, then why would you stand me up?" you demanded, gazing you at him. "If you know all I want is for you to be happy, why would you start a fight with me? You know I would never hurt you like that, baby."
"I didn't mean to start a fight." Eren admitted, swallowing. "I just don't want you to leave me. I don't want to be alone. I don't know what—"
"I know. You don't have to explain it to me, baby. I know exactly what you're thinking." you told him, reaching for his hand to hold in yours. "It's okay, Eren. I know you wouldn't ever want to hurt me, right?"
He nodded, teal eyes watching as you brought his hand to your pillowy lips. You placed a feathery kiss against his knuckles. It had been so soft, so sweet that he wanted to cry.
He had just had car sex with one of the girls who lived in your dormitory's building, and you were kind enough to give him another chance. He did something that hurt you, and you still only wanted what was best for him.
"I love you." Eren sputtered out. His eyes were wide at you, and his voice sounded like he was begging you for something you refused to give him.
You let out a sweet sigh, eyes snapping to his. "You love me?" you repeated, taking a moment to savor the way the words felt on your tongue. Your brows furrowed at the words. "Do you really?"
He nodded quickly, maneuvering his hand to hold yours. He peppered kisses along your fingers, your knuckles. "I do. I really fucking do. I love you." Eren assured, kissing the inside of your hand before grabbing the side of your face.
You raised a brow as he planted soft, needy kisses along your cheeks. "How much do you love me, Eren?" you inquired, bringing your hand to massage his scalp.
Eren swallowed, looking up at you. He was quiet. You blinked back at him, waiting for his answer. You had been so surprised to find he had nothing to offer you in that moment.
You quirked a brow at his silence. "How much, Eren? How much do you love me?" you repeated, voice advancing from a curious tone to a demanding one.
He shook his head, bringing your lips to meet his gently. He tasted like . . . was it honey? Or was it just how sweet the lies he told sounded on your ears?
You weren't able to tell what his mouth tasted like, but you knew you had earned another spit sister? Had he kissed her the way he kissed you? Did he feed her the same lies he did you? Could she taste him? Was she able to put a finger on what the candied flavor on his lips was?
Eren pulled back from you slightly. You couldn’t tell if it was his turquoise eyes that were glassy or if it was yours. "Too much." he told you, lips brushing against yours. "I love you too much." He collided his face with yours, tongue slipping into your open mouth.
His kisses travelled lower — along your jaw, down your nec. He sucked hard when he found your pulse-point, only stopping once a soft moan escaped your swollen lips.
There really wasn't a way you would ever leave him, even if you tried to. Despite all the fights, all the times you professed your hate for him, all the times you tried tried to break it off, Eren stayed with you.
But, it was the same for him. Even if you hurt him, flirt with his friends right in front of him, cuss him out and manipulate him the way you had already done a profuse amount of times in the past, Eren would always love you. How could he not?
Maybe it was because both of you were equally fucked in the head, or because you both loved the concept of pain whether you be playing the role of the inflicted or inflicter, but in some twisted way, you never wanted to leave him.
Somewhere in the messed up relationship that you two had, you realized you loved him. God, you fucking loved him, even if he treated you like a pet.
And, he was your favorite toy. Yours to use and to lie and to fuck. Whether Eren Jaeger was so free he couldn't help but trample over you, or you were too much, too curious that you pushed him to the very brink and a little more, one thing wouldn't change.
You knew it was wrong. Everything about you and him was wrong. Nothing could justify it, you figured that much. You didn't think you could lose yourself in the game, but you did.
And, all of it was Eren's fault.
note: welp they were toxic huh
#snk x reader#attack on titan x reader#eren jaeger x reader#eren jaeger x you#eren jaeger x y/n#eren yeager x y/n#eren yeager x you#aot eren#eren jaeger angst#toxic!eren jaeger#eren yeager angst#aot x reader#aot x you#eren yeager x reader
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Wake up call (regina mills x female reader)
!! WARNINGS !! READ THIS FIRST BEFORE READING AHEAD !!
This is smut. The following kinks are in it: morning sex, mommy kink, fingering, dom and sub, and other things.
It's basically lesbian smut.I wrote this out from my dr, I shifted to ouat and got an idea for the smut. There she can read my mind, it's a soulmate thing I added. This was also the first smut I ever wrote so don't be too harsh. I write better now, but I still love this one.
Enjoy!! You have been warned!!
I wake up in my usual position, laying with Regina, her holding me while I lay against her chest. But this morning, I woke up a lot more, needy, than usual, and since it was quite peaceful, I thought it’d go away. Until I noticed Regina’s leg being right between mine, intertwined in a way. I just look at the sleeping goddess in front of me, unsure of what to do, I just lay still and try to fall back asleep.
Until she suddenly moves, pulling you a bit closer and moving her leg against your panties, making a whimper come out. You now know she’s awake, or at least, a little.
Because of the friction, she was making with her leg, you couldn’t help but moan softly, and giving in to your own instincts, slightly grinding on her thigh, trying to stay silent. Suddenly you heard a low and raspy voice saying, “Well good morning, princess. This certainly is a nice surprise.”
“Shit she’s awake!” you thought, forgetting that she can hear that and getting the immediate response: “I am, darling. Although you seem more active than me, so early in the morning, too! How scandalous of you.”
You looked up at the woman, seeing a big smirk on her face, along with the look she gave you, very pleased with herself but also a look filled with lust. If your breathing wasn’t shaky enough, it would be now.
“Oh don’t let me stop you from finishing what you started. I wanna see it too, princess.” She whispered, “Or do you need my help because you can’t do it yourself?”
The way she knew the right things to say to get you going, was amazing, but also so bad. Because you knew it’d be a thing she’d be repeating today.
So, you just kept quiet, unsure of what to say or do, until Regina grabbed your hips and pulled you further towards her, saying “Don’t lie to me, I can feel it, remember? You’re not that good at hiding your needy eyes, not at all. Perhaps we should do something about that,”
She chuckled lowly, this usually scared you, but in an exciting way. Only, right now you didn’t feel that exciting, scared feeling, you just needed her, so bad. The only thing you could mutter out was: “please, mommy...”
You knew very well what was going to come next, and on queue, “Please what, princess? I can’t help you if I don’t know what you need.” She said with a smirk, softly stroking your hair. This gave you that false feeling of her being soft, knowing damned well what would happen the moment you told her what to do. No more softness, not until after. And yet, you still melted into her arms, obeying her commands.
“Please help me, mommy. You know I can’t do it by myself.” You said, blushing, still embarrassed at these moments, but immediately getting a reassuring kiss.
“You know I don’t judge you for that, princess. It just means you’ll always need me to finish, which feels nice.” She smirked, now paying attention to the mess that was you on her thigh, soaking, already.
Deciding not to torture you with her leg between yours, she flipped you over. You being on the bottom, her on top. Getting a questioning look, “Are you sure you want this, you don’t have to, don’t do it because I want you to.”
You reassured her it was something you wanted by grabbing her face and kissing her, getting a chuckle and a big smile. Because you rarely do this, but she loves it when you do.
She pulls away, wanting to put down some rules. Saying “You know the basics, tell them to me.”
You repeated the rules she had set, feeling safe with her, because she did take good care of you, even with this. “I can only cum when you tell me to when I ask and you say yes. We use the traffic light system or the bandana system.”
“what do those two mean?” She asked, testing you on it,
“Traffic light system is where you name a colour after telling me an action, or during an action. If I say “green” It means I’m okay with it and you can go/continue, if I say “orange” it means that you need to pause for a moment, and when I say “red” it’s me telling you to stop. The bandana system, one we frequently use, is where you give me a bandana to hold, and if I need you to stop, I drop it.” You say, having gone over this quite a lot because she wanted to make sure you were comfortable, not just her.
“Good girl,” Regina said, smirking, as you kissed her again.
She takes over, kissing you deeply and trailing her hand up to your chest, not needing to take off a shirt, since you slept shirtless. She started playing with one of your nipples, knowing the sensitivity they had.
A quiet moan escaping your mouth as she stopped kissing you and moved her mouth over to the nipple, expertly using her tongue, knowing all the various movements to drive you crazy. And they did.
You needed a lot more than just that, you wanted a lot more than that. Your neediness bubbling up and moaning out, “Mommy, please… I need more… touch me, please.”
She looked up, going to your face again and kissing you. “Of course, princess, since you asked so nicely, it would be cruel of me not to do anything.” She smirked, locking eyes with you to see your reaction as she started playing with your nipple again, while her left hand was slowly trailing down to your core. Leaving little marks with her nails until she reached the inside of your thigh, where she felt you through your panties. “So early and already soaking wet? Poor baby, mommy will help you out.”
You never broke eye contact, keeping her intense look on you, feeling every single thing she did. She had a mischievous look in her eyes, that she was planning something.
Regina knew exactly what to do, something you hated and both loved. She moved her hands onto the side of your panties, removing them quickly as she noticed it was something she bought for you. “feeling special, with that particular underwear?” She smirked, slowly rubbing through your folds at a torturous speed, making you needier and wetter.
Without a warning she slammed two fingers into you, still watching your look, which shifted as you broke the eye contact. You moaned loudly, bucking your hips into her hand, needing so much more than she was giving. Your breathing became a bit erratic, resulting in the woman giving you a more calming look, laying herself on top of you, syncing your breathing.
She loved you too much to make you have a panic attack, even if it was a very gay one, it could always turn into an actual one. But she knew that this would work because this happened a lot, you needed to concentrate on what was happening, so you wouldn’t be surprised. She kissed you again, calming you down effectively as she looked at your eyes asking if she can go. You said “green” meaning she could start.
She nodded at the colour, starting to thrust in and out of you slowly, making you moan and whine. Because she thrusted at a torturously slow pace. In… out… in…. out…, you thought, accidentally looking at Regina again, seeing her enjoying every second of your whines.
“More...” You managed to get out, mind fogged by your neediness, but Regina understood, nodding at picking up her pace, finally going at a nice and stable rhythm you liked.
You moaned loudly as the woman kissed you, saying “Don’t want to wake up the neighbours now, do we?” She joked because the walls were extra thick, purely for this purpose.
You couldn’t think, except for the part where she was fucking you, your hips bucked in the rhythm Regina was pumping in, she used her thumb to play with your clit, rubbing slow circles, at a very different pace. You liked this a lot and you were very close to the edge already. Remembering the rule and getting out “Mommy… please… I-I’m close, can I cum, please?”
She looked at you with a sympathetic look, “You have been a very good girl, so I’ll let you. Cum for me, princess.” She cooed, still pumping your fingers but moving herself to your core, wanting to taste it.
It didn’t take long for you to come undone, the woman quickly removing her fingers and expertly used her tongue to help you ride out your orgasm, making you come a second time. The moment she started fucking you with her tongue, it had made you feel all wet again.
This time, when you were done, she kissed you, “Taste yourself, princess, you’ll love it.”
She was right, and you enjoyed every bit of it as you sneakily slid your own hand down her panties, knowing she had a need too, that needed to be taken care of.
Regina looked at you in surprise saying “Baby, you don’t need to do that.”
You admitted you wanted to and immediately slipped two fingers in, making the woman whimper. You loved pleasing her, the sounds and faces she made at you made you so happy, she reassured you were doing well. Guiding your hands as to where to place them, successfully thrusting into her with your two fingers, picking up the pace as you heard her moan, uncontrollably. All you could hear was “Good girl, making mommy feel good.”
You carefully slid her panties off, throwing them into the room. Wanting to do the same, taste her, which Regina encouraged. You did as you were told, seeing her throw her head back in pleasure, with her gaping mouth open, a moaning mess. You decided you were going to tease her a little more, by putting your mouth on her clit, sucking and using your tongue to move the small nerve bundle, making everything 10x worse.
With a few last thrusts and licks, she came with a moan, that pulled you closer, biting down on your neck, to muffle herself. After she had ridden out every last bit you went down and “cleaned” her, using every single trick you knew, wanting her to come a second time, now that the sensitivity was high. You did it quite easily, the woman grinding on your face, and you slightly moaned at the feeling. Suddenly she came all over your face and into your mouth, you cleaned her up for real this time and kissed her.
“You taste so good, mommy,” you said, being tired, “I need some more sleep, I’m a bit tired.”
The woman kissed you and handed you a small drink, taking care of you, “I know princess, thank you” She cooed, laying down next to you, and falling back asleep together again.
#smut#ouat fanfic#regina mills#lesbian#gay#wlw#once upon a time#fanfic#ouat#morning#mommy#it was the first smut i wrote so its short#willow-darling
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Knock It Off (Eli “Hawk” Moskowitz x reader)
Request: Do you think you could write something about the reader being in cobra kai, and she’s new to everything and little more quiet and reserved, but she’s talented and sensai lawrence likes her for that, and hawk takes a liking to her and constantly flirts with her in class and sensai lawrence is like protective of her and always tells him to knock it off even though you secretly like it? (anon)
A/n: I really enjoyed this request!! I feel like I could go on forever on this dynamic. Is this me projecting my lack of a father figure on to a fictional character? Perhaps.
Words: 1216
Warnings: none
read this on AO3
It took .003 seconds from you entering the dojo to when his eyes caught on you, and the theatrics began.
“Hey,” Hawk nudged Miguel, shrugging off the top of his gi nonchalantly, as though it wasn't an obvious attempt to obtain your attention. “look. Recoloured the hawk to Red. Gotta keep him up with the times.”
Miguel didn't even have to look back to ask. “Y/n's here?”
“Is she?” Hawk asked, his voice higher than usual – as it would get when he lied. “Didn't notice.”
That doesn't stop him from approaching you a millisecond later, his torso still bare. You're talking to Aisha when Hawk strides over, fist bumps Aisha and turns to you, giving you a long once-over.
“Y/n. Looking fine as usual.” You can't help the blush that creeps up your cheeks. “You girls coming to the party at the canyon tomorrow night? I can come get you on my bike,” he finishes, looking at you.
You smile and part your lips to answer but sensei Lawrence beats you to it. “Students. Fall in!” he yells authoritatively as he eyes you and Hawk.
Not missing a beat, you all cut your conversation immediately to fall in to rows. Sensei Lawrence has Miguel warm up the class. Right after he commands you all in to an open square, standing at the open side to referee. “Tory. Aisha.” sensei calls, and no one needs an explanation as to what's about to happen. The All Vally tournament was closer than ever and Sensei had you all sparring constantly.
The girls drive a hard fight, but eventually Tory takes the win. Both roughed-up Tory hands an arm out to Aisha, picking her up from the mat before bowing and returning to their respective places.
“Y/n.” Sensei calls and you step forward. You were only three girls in his class so you were used to fighting the boys. You weren't shaken by it by any means – you were good – but the boys tended to go easy on you, fearing for your delicate hollow bones – despite you being fully capable of winning without them holding back.
Both you and Sensei Lawrence scan the crowd of boys, trying to catch the eye of someone with the nerve to take you – when Hawk steps forward, signature cocky grin on his lips. “May I, Sensei?”
You loved how Hawk showed Sensei proper respect, knowing that outside the dojo he wouldn't ask anyone permission for anything, he'd just take or do what he wanted. Caring for Sensei Lawrence as you did, you appreciated Hawks matching adoration of your teacher.
It looks like Johnny might turn him down before he says, “You may.”
You and Hawk step towards each other and a surge of excitement rushes through you as you bow to each other. You take a fighting position and block when Hawk sends the first punch. Before he can recover you attack, spinning on your heel to deliver a kick so strong it knocks him over.
Usually Hawk jumps right back in to action when sparring with anyone else; but now he slowly peels himself off the mat, hand on his chest where you hit him. “Damn, Y/n. Was that a spinning back kick or am I just falling for you?”
“Knock it off,” Sensei roars in annoyance, the heat in your cheeks rising furiously. You return to a fighting position without responding, trying to drown the whole thing out.
Hawk obeys Sensei and the rest of the fight goes by as any fight would, Hawk treating you as an equal – definitely not showing mercy, which, despite the pain, you appreciated – eventually ending with him straddling you on the mat, delivering a final hit to your chest, just under you clavicle. It wasn't a strong one, but it didn't need to be. Tournament rules declared him winner. Johnny called Hawk's name in triumph, but Hawk didn't seem to care. He was reluctant to get off you, the intense eye contact you held holding him back from breaking away.
That is, until Johnny grabbed hold of his shoulder and forced him up and away from you. “Bow,” he commanded, and the intense irritation in his voice was unmistakable. You do so shakily, even though you know Sensei's irritation is not towards you. Sensei Lawrence had a soft spot for you, always had since you joined – and you reveled in it. He knew about your home life situation, and together with your quick learning and dedication to his teachings he quickly grew fond of you, and together with the fondness he became protective, as though you were his own.
The rest of the class goes by uneventfully, apart from a bloody nose and chipped tooth, nothing that was foreign to you all at this point of your intense training.
The class dispersed. People headed out or to the locker rooms to change as Johnny called, “Y/n. My office.” You follow him in.
“Is he bothering you?” Johnny asks, not bothering to close the door. You didn't need to ask who “he” is.
“N-no,” you admit, slightly blushing as you do. If anything, you were enjoying Hawks attention on you, his actions fueling your crush on him even further.
“Are you sure?” Sensei Lawrence goes on. “because if he is, I-”
“I'm sure,” you quickly interject. You slowly shut the door behind you as you confess, “actually, he kinda asked me to a party tomorrow. I'm going to say yes.”
Sensei's brow quirks. “You are not going to a party with that boy.”
“Why not?” you ask like a disgruntled child at Johnny's words, holding them as a command though to be realistic – he had no power over you. No power that you didn't willingly give him.
“Look, I-” Johnny begins to say, thinking back to the things he used to do as a teenager at beach parties, bringing girls along on his bike. “I don't like it.”
“What's so wrong with Hawk?” you frown. “He's one of your best students.”
“That's unrelated. Look, you can get in to all kinds of trouble at these types of things.”
You try to suppress your smile. “Don't worry about me, Sensei. I won't get in to trouble, promise. Besides, you wouldn't have this conversation with Miguel, would you?”
Johnny sighs, realizing he's fighting a losing battle. Grabbing his keys from his desk, he motions you out. “Come on, I'll give you a ride home.”
You feel a strange kind of contentedness as you leave the empty dojo with Johnny, who rattles his keys in his hands.
You definitely don't expect to see Hawk waiting outside, leaning on his bike with an extra helmet in hand.
“Hey,” he says and looks timidly from you to Sensei. “I – was wondering if you want a lift home.”
You open your mouth to reply, before shutting it and looking to Sensei pleadingly. He frowns. “Fine, go,” he huffs, acting annoyed. “Don't do anything I wouldn't.”
You send a final smile to your sensei before skipping over to Hawk, taking the helmet from his hands and mounting the bike behind him, your arms curling around him as you take off.
#cobra kai#cobra kai imagine#eli moskowitz#eli moskowitz x reader#eli moskowitz/reader#eli hawk moskowitz#eli hawk moskowitz imagine#hawk cobra kai#cobra kai x reader#cobra kai/reader#johnny lawrence#Johnny Lawrence imagine
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The Escape Route (Yan! Don Giorno x Fem!Reader)
A request from a lovely nonnie mouse asking how the Don would handle his darling attempting to escape from his home. A bit of a drawn out scenario... I really hope you enjoy the read.
TW: Manipulative relationship dynamics, possessive behaviour, yandere behaviour
Word Count: 2.7k
Your brisk walk was slowly turning into a run as you worked your way through the busy streets of Naples. With your breathing ragged and eyes darting around to make sure nobody was on your tail, you tried to think about how best to put your escape plan back on track.
You knew that Giorno’s influence extended further than most, but you hadn’t expected him to have the power to derail every single option you had thought of to escape from his overpowering grip. You had been running around for hours now, from station to station, none would book you a ticket to anywhere, every cab ride was hastily halted after a dubious phone call… resulting in you being unwillingly ejected from the vehicle each time. So there you were, running into the more dangerous parts of Naples, frantically looking for some kind of shelter to house you while you thought of what you would do next.
Thankfully, you found a tiny inn, sparse amenities, small and far removed enough you thought, to not be on Giorno’s radar. The kindly old lady didn’t ask many questions, and you paid with the cash you had been slowly hiding away for such an event.
You couldn’t pinpoint when your relationship with Giorno had descended to this but you knew that if you stayed any longer his charming brand of captivity would best your common sense and you would be trapped forever. With Giorno, you had access to anything, no request was too demanding… in exchange though he required you to be within his confines at all times, listen to and obey his honeyed instructions with minimal fuss, and to not run off in the occasions when he did take you out of the mansion. I’m just keeping you safe he said… little did you know that the most dangerous one of all was the Don himself with his hypnotic gaze.
To give him the benefit of the doubt, it could have been much worse, he never harmed you physically, never pushed the intimacy boundaries further than you allowed… in your moments of weakness, it was you who had sought out his embrace. The absurdity of it all- vacillating between love and hate for this man, and so to protect the fraying thread that held your sanity together, you decided to make a run for it. It was not an impulsive idea, you had spent the better part of the year planning your grand escape, trying to imagine every way in which your plan could go awry and possible solutions to the problems. Ironically, this was a habit that you had picked up from Giorno himself, and should your plan actually work, it would be quiet poetic- escaping using the traits of your captor against him. You had gathered small amounts of cash here and there, not enough to rouse anyone’s suspicion, and made sure that any and all evidence of you memorizing the layout of the surrounding areas was completely erased. Perhaps the most difficult task of them all, was to lure Giorno into false sense of security regarding your disposition towards your situation. In the weeks leading up to your escape, you had flawlessly played the part of the dutiful ‘wife’, listening attentively, spoiling him with gentle touches and loving gazes, making sure to build up your affections gradually, as if they had been blooming naturally so as not to trigger any suspicion.
Finally, you saw your opportunity to make your move that morning. Giorno had to leave early to meet with a few associates from Japan, so you rose with him, and watched as he got ready, helping him with his hair and doing up his tie. Looking up to meet his crystalline eyes, you noticed he considered you with an expression you haven’t seen on him before.
“What is it tesoro? Why are you looking at me like that?” you asked in a gentle tone.
“You’re… just so beautiful… would you like to come with me today? I’m sure they would love to meet you… I call them associates but in actual fact one of them is a relative of mine. You’ll only be bored for a little while; after that we can do whatever you would like to,” he asked with a gentle smile. You thought about how you were going to answer, ultimately you knew you didn’t want to go, favoring your grand escape instead, but denying him that quickly would definitely set off alarm bells in his mind.
“Ah! Perhaps next time my love, I’m not going to be good company today, I woke up with a bit of a headache… I’ll probably go back to bed and sleep it off after you leave,”
“Are you sure there’s nothing I can do to make you feel any better bella, I hate the fact that you’re hurting,” Giorno cupped your face in his hands and gently stroked your cheeks with his thumbs, “get some rest bella mio, I’ll be back to check on you as soon as I can,” kissing you on the forehead he left without another word. Waiting for him to be completely out of the villa, you watched as his car exited the driveway before quietly packing what you could, mentally going over your checklist more times than you cared to count. Since your change in attitude, the staff at the villa were more accepting of your whims, partly to do with the fact that Giorno had instructed them to do so - within reason, but also, because you had won over their trust and if you had to be honest with yourself, there was nothing you could fault them for. The dynamic Giorno had with them was not ruled by fear, but rather by admiration… all of them being drawn in by his charisma. Managing to maneuver your way through the mansion and out an exit that saw you climbing over a hidden portion of the eastern wall surrounding the villa, you had finally been outside the confines of the villa on your own for the first time in well over a year.
In the car on the way to meet with his guests Giorno was preoccupied. He had noticed the gradual change in your behavior and as much as he would have loved to give you the benefit of the doubt, a nagging inclination that you might be lying always clouded his thoughts. He loved you- entirely- even though there were days in which you rejected his affections, he was patient with you… eventually you’d understand, the dangers that lurked in every corner made your captivity, as you so unceremoniously called it, a necessity. He had grown so accustomed to making decisions with little to no advice, he had adopted that stance in his personal life as well. He rationalized that once you had accepted the fact that his actions were all borne from his desire to protect you, your lives would be peaceful, until then, he would be patient, enduring your tantrums and snide remarks with the grace of an aristocrat… which only upset you further. To Giorno, you were to be looked after, protected- treasured, and so no matter how much you had tested his patience in the beginning, not once were you ever hurt or taken advantage of. Violence and shackles were much too unrefined for a gem like you, so to correct your behavior, the young don resorted to other, less threatening means of discipline.
“Don Giovanna? We have arrived,” shaken out of his musings by his consigliere, his attention was drawn to the fact that they had arrived at their destination ready to discuss the matters at hand.
“Thank you Lorenzo, would you check if the staff has everything ready while I greet our guests?”
“Of course, excuse me,” with that, Lorenzo had left, hastily attending to a call as he walked.
“Ah, welcome to Italy, I take it you and your associates have settled in well?” said Giorno with a polite bow, being mindful of the cultural conventions of his esteemed guests. Drinks were ordered and everyone present had settled down in the private lounge, except for Lorenzo who had been animatedly conversing on the phone for enough time to make his absence felt. Frustrated by what he was tasked to do, he abruptly ended his conversation and sought out Giorno to give him the news, finally, the staff at villa Giovanna had realized you were gone.
“Don…”
“The expression on your face can only mean one thing… when did they notice?”
“A few minutes ago, she couldn’t have gotten too gar given the timeframe… what would you like me to do?”
“You stay here and keep our guests company, I’ll handle this…” not even bothering to alert the driver, Giorno collected the keys from the valet and zoomed off. Making a short drive even shorter, he arrived home in foul mood, although he did assign some of the blame to himself, recognizing his fatal error when he ignored his gut feeling, he was disappointed at how easily you had managed to slip from his grasp and wondered if his staff had been plotting with you all along. He would have to address that later on though, his primary concern now was to locate you and bring you back home.
“Mista, I have a special request to make, please come to the villa, bring Fugo with you,” said Giorno in a quick call, there were few who he trusted more than his underbosses, and this task was something that required only the most competent people. After a short explanation of the situation at hand, both men had already started making calls to the relevant people in an attempt to thwart your plans.
You would think the most frightening thing about Giorno would be his god-like requiem ability. But over and above the raw power he possessed was his reach, the world seemed so small, as if it had rested comfortably in his elegant hands- and you had been getting reminders of this inescapable fate over and over again. By the time you had given up on the idea of escaping through any traditional means of transportation, you must have tried fifty different avenues, each attempt failing more spectacularly than the last. Having had enough, you resigned yourself to the fact that you would not be leaving Naples immediately, and found refuge in the outskirts of the city. You climbed the rickety staircase behind the lady as she prattled on about her day.
“Shall I get you something to eat dolcezza? You look like you could use something warm and comforting in your system. In fact, let me do just that, you get settled in so long,” said the innkeeper before you had a chance to interject. Deciding to take a shower to wash off the day, you took comfort in the fact that this place was so remote, you were almost certain you were safe for the meantime. The tiny bathroom was a far cry from the palatial one you had grown accustomed to while being in Giorno’s villa, but it served the same purpose, only this time, you had your freedom. The place was peaceful though aside from the sound of what must have been a car backfiring and the small creaks from the natural expansion and contraction of the dwelling, it was quiet enough for you to calm down and organize your thoughts. Now that you were comparatively more at ease than before, you felt the strain of the day in your body, aching muscles, sore feet and cuts and scrapes that began to smart affixed a slight grimace to your face as you rummaged through your belongings to find some sort of pain relief.
A sharp knock on the door disrupted your search. You stayed silent for a moment, contemplating if you should ignore it or answer.
“Dolcezza, I’ve brought you a small snack, you’re going to enjoy it,” you just wanted to crawl into bed and forget the day you had, but you also didn’t want to snub her kindness, you reached out to unlock and open the door.
“Buongiorno tesoro… enjoying your little excursion? Marina here was kind enough to show me to your room so I could surprise you… seems like it worked, look at this charming expression,” turning to the smiling woman, Giorno nodded for her to leave. Your heartbeat thundered in your ears, you wanted to cry, to run, to jump right out through the hazy window but your feet were rooted to the ground.
“Well (y/n) … you’ve been running around Naples for the entire day, have you found what you’re looking for?” his usual honeyed tone was laced with derision as he critically eyed your surroundings. “is this what you were so desperate to escape to? Look at this place… look at the condition you’re in… how is any of this better than everything I’ve given you?”
“I have my freedom here…” was all you could muster as your mind raced thinking of how he had still managed to find you despite all the precautions you had taken. “Giorno, how…”
“How did I find you? I always have my ways…” he said, sauntering over to the window, opening it just enough to make eye contact with whoever was outside, dismissing them with a nonchalant wave of his gloved hand. Pulling out his cellphone, he showed you the opened application, explaining that he had been using it to track your location, following the signal from the diamond earrings he gifted you on your birthday, carelessly left on when you had made your hasty escape. In all fairness, you hadn’t considered that the dainty gems were anything more than that. Feeling your legs starting to give out under you at the revelation that you were the cause of your own undoing, you sat on the bed hanging your head in defeat.
“Freedom, you say? Tell me how has that worked for you?”
“That’s not fair! You’ve basically controlled every single encounter I’ve had, and even when I thought I had escaped you by coming here, you still somehow managed to manipulate the situation…” you shouted, tears of frustration running feely down your face.
“Stop being dramatic, the world is full of horrible people, everyone is looking out for themselves, I wish you would realize that… tell me tesoro, how many people turned you away? Threw you out of their cars, made up excuses to deny your requests? Not one of those people looked into those pleading eyes and thought you were worth helping. Why? Because people are selfish…”
“You… you threatened them all, you…”
“You give me too much credit, it’s not like I was going to kill them, I hate violence, despite your disappointingly low opinion of me, even you have to admit that I’ve never done anything to physically harm you… all I want is to protect you, you don’t understand how things work out there,”
“It’s not like you’ve ever given me the opportunity to find out how things are… I”
“Some people are just meant to be loved and protected tesoro, isn’t that enough? Why would you want to risk being hurt to get a taste of something that’s actually not even worth it… you’re not cut out for this life… I’ve been here so I know this isn’t what you deserve. You’re coming back home with me,”
“But, I- “ you attempted to interject but his intense glare halted you.
“(y/n), I’m very patient under most circumstances, but please don’t test me now, I won’t say it twice…” said Giorno with a slight bite to his voice, it was clear he was growing tired of this conversation, and you were losing your will to fight back. With a quivering lip and misty eyes, you moved to gather your belongings but was stopped by the young don, arguing that he can replace whatever is there, wanting no other reminders of this transgression to follow you both back. Resigning yourself to this fate, realizing there was nowhere beyond his reach, you grasped his outstretched arm and followed him to the car to return to your life of opulent captivity. Months and months of planning all resulting in nothing, it became glaringly obvious to you that escaping was futile…
#giorno giovanna#giorno#don giorno#don giovanna#giorno giovanna x reader#giorno x reader#yandere giogio#yandere giorno#jjba yandere#yandere jjba prt 5#yandere x reader#jjba giorno giovanna#giorno x y/n#giorno x you#giorno giovanna x y/n#giorno jojo#giorno giovanna x you#yandere jjba#soft yandere#giogio#jjba fanfic#my fic#my words
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A student! reader (over 18 obviously) who has an awkward crush on Seteth who may reciprocate? This ask is like on the verge of the DONT section in your rules so feel free to ignore if it is too uncomfy xD
I actually got a couple asks in the wake of that post I made about teasing Seteth in the Academy uniform, so I'm glad you guys are vibing with me on that lol~
That said, I will say that a literal teacher/student thing is ehhhhh for me, BUT I think I have a way to make this work for all of us :3
Jeez, the number of times I've written Seteth fucking someone on his desk-
CW: former student, degradation, spanking, me being a Seteth simp
Seteth (FE3H) x FEM Reader - Garreg Mach Uniform
NSFW 18+
Sometimes it seems that your austere lover is even more busy in the post-war scramble for stabilization than he had been during wartime. Seteth had already been known for an almost worryingly dedicated work-ethic when you'd met him during your time as a student at the Officers Academy. Now, many years and sociopolitical shifts and one nervous love-confession later, it only seemed that more rested on on his shoulders than ever.
Perhaps that's why, when you discover your old uniform while cleaning up your quarters one day, an irresistible idea forms in your mind.
Seteth's eyes drift, then refocus. He blinks away the exhaustion threatening to break him from his duties, then sighs as he runs a hand through emerald hair. The Chapel bells had signified the end of administrative hours some time ago, but he can't allow himself to become lax. There's still much to be done. It's days like this that make him think with a wry smile that his brothers would scoff at the way he's chosen to live his life, having traded fangs for bureaucracy.
His office door is propped open as usual, but he hears a knock that shakes him from his thoughts.
"Come in-" he glances up at you, and his brows furrow deeply. You can't help a playful smile at the sight of Seteth's face already tinted pink. With as much innocence as you can affect, you step into his office to show off your attire. Your old uniform still fits- more or less -but you've made some careful adjustments. The jacket and white blouse underneath are only buttoned as high as would be strictly necessary to be seen in public, exposing a daring view of your chest. Thigh-high stockings hug your legs, then lead up to perhaps the most scandalous aspect of this ensemble. You've rolled up the hem of your skirt until it flutters about your hips so short that when you're not careful, a glimpse of your backside is clearly visible. This latter point, Seteth clearly notices as you twirl for him, saying,
"Look what I found, love," He's already on his feet approaching you, and you smile up at him as sweetly as you can, "sure brings back memories, doesn't it?"
Without a word, Seteth tugs you away from the office door and shuts it firmly behind you.
"Did you parade yourself all the way here from your quarters looking like this?!" he demands, and you hear the click of the door locking behind you.
"Well I don't see how else I could have gotten here, so..." you reply flippantly.
"Goddess above," he says with an exasperated sigh. His thumb and forefinger worry at the bridge of his nose as he turns back towards his desk, "To think that anyone could have seen you-!"
You roll your eyes with a grin and follow him. You take his hands in yours, drawing them away from him and opening up his closed posture.
"Come on, I just thought you might like it," you say as you draw closer to him. Seteth sighs again and looks you up and down.
"Whether or not I like it is immaterial, my love."
"But you do like it," you prod him further, your grin widening.
He opens his mouth, then closes it again. His lips tighten for a moment, then he manages to say,
"It is... flattering."
Releasing his hands, your own travel up the front of his torso, enjoying the dips and swells of his muscled body beneath those conservative robes. You feel his chest rise as he inhales sharply, and you say,
"Have I ever told you that I had a hell of a crush on you even back in my student days?"
Seteth speaks your name with a hint of a warning his his voice. You press your body to his as your touch travels up the strong contour of his neck to tease along the line of his beard.
"It's true. I've always wanted you, Seteth," you go on, "Every single time you scolded or lectured me, part of me was... incredibly turned on. Sometimes, it was simply too much to bear," you curl a lock of his hair around your fingertips. You can see his ironclad will beginning to fracture. "Sometimes, I'd return to my room and pleasure myself, all while dreaming of you disciplining me."
Then, his lips are on yours, his kiss so hard and impassioned that for a moment, you're breathless. Your smug posturing falters immediately. He drags your bottom lip between his teeth as one hand wraps around you while the other grabs onto the plump swell of your ass beneath the flimsy coverage of your skirt. Seteth pulls you firmly against his strong body, and you can feel his cock throbbing against you. Then, as suddenly as he'd initiated it, he breaks your kiss- but before you can speak, his hand holds at your chin and forces you to meet his fierce gaze.
"So, you came here in this shameful attire with the express purpose of provoking me," his voice is a husky whisper, the mere sound of it nearly enough to make your knees buckle, "Very well then- you will have your scolding."
He manhandles you into position, rougher and more forceful with you than he's ever been. Before long, you're bent over his desk beneath him, and he stares down at you with a heat that paradoxically makes you shiver. Then, he raises a hand, and brings down his palm across your ass. You whimper and arch up from the hardwood, but he only says coldly,
"Straighten your legs."
You do your best to obey, holding your backside upright for him as though presenting him with your body. Despite your efforts, his hand descends once more, the wonderful sting of his strike warming your skin.
"Spread them wider." he commands, and once again you obey without question. You hear the familiar rustle of his belt and outer robes coming undone, and you glance back over your shoulder.
"Eyes forward, Miss Y/N." he says, his tone now balancing on a dangerous edge. You whine in protest, but follow his instructions and merely await your punishment. He gives a low hum and says, "I see you are capable of some measure of discipline, at least."
You feel the stiff head of his cock pushing between your folds, but before you can prepare yourself in the slightest, Seteth drives into your waiting cunt. Immediately, your eyes roll back and you gasp out his name. He holds you by your hips, pulling you back against him until your ass presses flush against his pelvis. He's nestled deep inside of you, his powerful manhood stretching you to your limit- and for the moment, he simply remains as such. The tip of his cock is nudging hard against your womb, sending blended pain and pleasure radiating through your nerves. It's all you can do to keep yourself positioned properly for him.
"To think that you would flaunt your body about the Monastery in such attire," Seteth snarls behind you, his cock throbbing against your inner walls, "You're every bit as hopeless as you were as a student." Once again, he spanks you, and you have to imagine by now that his abuse has begun to mark your tender skin.
You're already panting aloud for him when finally, his hips begin to move. His pace is immediately firm and punishing, his cock pistoning in and out of you, stimulating your every aching sweet spot and sending a painful jolt up your spine with each thrust. Your lips hang parted as you gasp for breath, your eyes dazed and unfocused in your bliss. A sudden rush seizes your body, and you feel your pussy clench around the massive intrusion of Seteth's cock.
"Cumming already?" he says with clear derision in his voice, though he never eases his pace as his bucks into you, "Perhaps you were even aroused by showing yourself in public in this shameful state."
"Nuh- no...!" you whimper softly, "It was... it's only for you-!"
Smack! His palm strikes your bouncing flesh once more. You're still riding the wave of your climax- or perhaps you're cumming a second time already. It's impossible to tell.
"Yet you were already soaked by the time I bent you over," Seteth goes on as he pounds into you, "One can't help but think that perhaps my troublesome student quite enjoys behaving like a wanton whore."
You can't manage to reply anymore. Your head is spinning and your body aches. Seteth's full length drives into you to its base again and again, and you can't even begin to say how many times you've cum before he begins to falter. His hips snap towards you haltingly, his body shudders, and his balls feel large and heavy as they slap against you with each thrust. It seems even his immense self-control can't stand up to this lewd punishment session for much longer. As your hands uselessly try to find purchase on the surface of his desk, Seteth leans over you, his hands now on your waist, pinning you down beneath him. His member throbs from base to tip, and with an animalistic groan, he says,
"I expect you... to take full responsibility-!"
With this, you feel the heat of his release pouring out at your core. His length twitches with every shot of cum that he spills into you, and his hands grip you so tight you can feel his nails digging along your skin. Seteth moans out your name, and you're distantly grateful that no one else stays in the offices as late as he does- you've both certainly made enough noise to have caused a scene by now.
At long, long last, his member pulses with the final throes of his orgasm. Seteth's grip on you loosens, and his office is quiet save for soft panting as you both struggle to collect yourselves. He pulls his length from you in one motion, and already, you can feel his thick seed dripping along your lower lips.
"You will head to my chambers," Seteth says, then clears his throat as he struggles to regain his usual composed dignity, "And if you don't want anyone to see this dripping out of you, you'll go quickly."
"Whose fault is that, I wonder," you manage to mumble, slowly pushing yourself up from the desk. Seteth actually laughs at this. Even now, his laugh is a rare treat that makes your heart skip like nothing else.
"I am tempted to say yours, given your intentional provocation," he says, bending over to place a soft kiss to your lips, "but I acknowledge that my own weakened restraint is partially to blame. To that end," he adds, his smile once more gentle and fond, "I am feeling rather rejuvenated. I'll be done with my work before long, and I do hope to see you in my quarters then."
#seteth#seteth x reader#fire emblem#feh#fe3h#fire emblem three houses#seteth smut#fire emblem smut#fire emblem imagines#fire emblem x reader#x reader
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" Arya calls her stupid (in words and in thought) and that happens often enough that Sansa suspects Arya to think her stupid when she looks at her a certain way. "
Thank you for mentioning this. It's something that is never mentioned or discussed in the fandom. During the Trident, when Sansa asks her for company, she gives her a look that makes her feel as if she was stupid. Sometimes when your siblings consider your interests as stupid and even they don't mouth it openly still one figures out that they are being called out on their intelligence. I think the reason many people don't see this is because they feel there is some zero sum game in Sansa Arya dynamic before Ned's death. There is also the notion that Sansa doesn't have self esteem issues, which she has and even she harbours jealousy and resentment towards her sister. The only difference is that Arya expresses those emotions while Sansa bottles it up in her POV. I always wonder what would Sansa's reaction be when she finds out her brother gave up on her because he couldn't suffer more setbacks in his campaign but at the same time cared more for an unknown woman's honor that ultimately hit the nail in his coffin.
Another thing that bothers me is the argument that Sansa bullies Arya. Only problem that I have with that discourse is that bullies never cover up for the ones they need to pick on. Arya is also not frightened of Sansa in the way Dany is of Viserys.
Hi there!
"Rubies," Sansa said, lost. "What rubies?"
Arya gave her a look like she was so stupid. "Rhaegar's rubies. This is where King Robert killed him and won the crown." (AGOT, Sansa I)
And you are right, Sansa fears being stupid (although she has not reason, because she is not, but self-esteem is after all more about perception than real abilities).
"I … I had not thought, my lord."
"Your Grace," he said sharply. "You truly are a stupid girl, aren't you? My mother says so." (AGOT, Sansa VI)
The ‘Sansa bullies Arya’ argument is probably as old as AGOT. I have talked about that repeatedly (and about the horseface insult). And there was no bullying. There were fights and arguments, insults and everything. Just look at this:
The septa was not appeased. "You're a good girl, Sansa, but I do vow, when it comes to that creature you're as willful as your sister Arya." She scowled. "And where is Arya this morning?"
"She wasn't hungry," Sansa said, knowing full well that her sister had probably stolen down to the kitchen hours ago and wheedled a breakfast out of some cook's boy.
"Do remind her to dress nicely today. The grey velvet, perhaps. We are all invited to ride with the queen and Princess Myrcella in the royal wheelhouse, and we must look our best." (AGOT, Sansa I)
Sansa covers for Arya here. If she would regularly bully her, she would snitch on her right this moment. How easy would it be to get Arya punished.
Here you also see the lazy Septa delegating some of her duties to Sansa. She uses Sansa to search for Arya and she uses her to enforce rules on Arya. No wonder, Arya resents her older sister for it and no wonder Sansa resents Arya for not complying to the rules. The septa clearly expects Sansa to ‘talk sense’ into her younger sister. Probably because she herself can’t manage. And look how Sansa “successfully bullies” Arya into obeying their elders.
Sansa was running out of patience now. "You have to come with me," she told her sister firmly. "You can't refuse the queen. Septa Mordane will expect you."
Arya ignored her. (AGOT, Sansa I)
That is such bad parenting here by the Septa and it only drives the wedge deeper between Sansa and Arya. Imagine you are told to be a good girl and fetch your sister and she just won’t come. And imagine Arya: Getting instructions by her elders via the sister who is just two years her senior. Again, it’s no wonder they resent each other.
Actually, I don’t want Sansa to find out that Robb did not want to exchange her. She looked up to him and took him as an example for bravery and I just don’t want her to learn that. Let her keep that idealized version of Robb in her head.
Thanks for the ask!
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Spilled Pearls
- Chapter 8 - ao3 -
Lan Qiren’s brother did not outwardly react when Wen Ruohan announced what happened.
He merely stared, face as impassive as a stone washed clean by the river, his posture and position impeccable from the little glimpses Lan Qiren kept stealing of him – he was trying to keep his head ducked and his gaze firmly on the ground, trying to demonstrate penitence, but he couldn’t quite resist looking. He assumed that his brother’s seeming indifference was a mask for the rage he undoubtedly felt, seeing his little brother screw up what would have otherwise been a perfect discussion conference for the Lan sect.
It seemed like a reasonable conclusion, given that Lao Nie was taking up all the slack of reacting with rage without any such mask whatsoever.
“He’s little more than a child!” Lao Nie shouted.
“Little more, perhaps,” Wen Ruohan said smoothly. He was enjoying himself, Lan Qiren thought. “But regardless of how close or how far he is, he is adult enough.”
“He can’t marry or inherit –”
“He shed blood in a night-hunt, and that means he can swear oaths, which is all that’s relevant here. It isn’t as if I married him.”
“He’s sixteen! If someone removed sixteen years out of your life, Hanhan, you wouldn’t even notice the absence!”
“True, but irrelevant,” Wen Ruohan said. “And don’t call me that, Sect Leader Nie.”
“I’ll call you whatever I damn well please, you little –”
“You are unharmed?” Lan Qiren’s brother asked Lan Qiren.
Lan Qiren, who’d been spectating the increasingly fraught back and forth between the two sect leaders, turned to look at him, surprised to be addressed.
“I’m fine,” he said quickly. “I only had a headache, and Sect Leader Wen took care of that.”
“You call me da-ge now,” Wen Ruohan reminded him, turning briefly away from his argument to do so. “Your oath, remember.”
“Does he even remember swearing the oaths?” Lao Nie hissed. “You know how these Lan drink – you and your damned need for control! Just because you can’t get it one way, you have to try another, is that it, Hanhan?”
“Sect Leader Nie, if you really find it impossible to be civil -”
“If you are unharmed, then we can return to the Cloud Recesses,” Lan Qiren’s brother said, ignoring them both. His voice was as distant and cold as a winter breeze, piercing and lifeless; it reminded Lan Qiren a little of his father, and he shivered. “We will determine the remainder at that time.”
“See?” Wen Ruohan said goadingly to Lao Nie, whose scowl only deepened. “If even his own sect doesn’t object to it –”
“They didn’t not object, they’re refraining from making a statement; it’s not the same thing. ‘Even ten years isn’t too late for a gentleman to get revenge’ – !”
“I should like to see them try.”
Lan Qiren felt a sudden sense of relief, heralded by a bright and abrupt clarity: of course Wen Ruohan hadn’t sworn brotherhood with him on his behalf! He’d only done it because he’d seen Lan Qiren together with Lao Nie, found that the sight offended his vision, and immediately decided to disrupt it. Never mind that Lao Nie didn’t have any intentions beyond the casual mentorship of any older cultivator to a junior – Wen Ruohan was well known for his paranoia, his irritability, his tendency to seize on crazy ideas. And, of course, there was his jealousy, a trait to which he had himself admitted…
A treasure sword used to prop up a table, indeed. It wasn’t about Lan Qiren's merits or the Lan sect’s supposed failings at all. The only table Wen Ruohan was concerned with was Lao Nie’s!
(And that certainly did explain the whole bizarre ‘Hanhan’ thing better than any other hypothesis Lan Qiren had come up with.)
Lan Qiren wasn’t sure it was better, exactly, to be a pawn in a strange game between sect leaders, but it was at least more familiar. As a younger son of a politically minded Great Sect, he was more like a daughter; being used for some scheme by the adults around him had always been his destiny, barring some tragedy or especially indulgent parents – the former was unlikely, the latter he lacked – and so his fate was set.
Of course, it would have been better not to be in a game involving Wen Ruohan at all, but he supposed that there were worse options.
After all, if Wen Ruohan’s primary interest was in tormenting Lao Nie, he probably wouldn’t demand Lan Qiren’s presence in the Nightless City all that often – probably just enough to show that he could – and Lan Qiren would be allowed to continue with his plans for his future. It might even turn out to be something of a benefit. After all, a musician with limited martial skills, traveling all alone, could always use strong friends that were nearby, and the Wen sect’s reach far exceeded that of the Lan sect…
Anyway, comparatively, Lan Qiren disliked far more the idea of being stuck in the Jin sect with its inexplicable devotion to worldly affairs (and when it came to Jin Guangshan, word was that that usually meant literal affairs…), and he would have undoubtedly gone utterly mad in the Jiang sect, with its emphasis on freedom and lack of any rules to explain anything. And of course, regrettably, the Nie sect wouldn't have done such a thing to begin with, secretive as they were...
No, it wouldn’t be so bad, Lan Qiren tried to convince himself. It wouldn’t be so bad at all.
The illusion lasted exactly as long as it took for the leaders of the five Great Sects to retreat to finalize their discussions on business – with Sect Leader Jiang and Jin stepping up to keep Sect Leaders Wen and Nie from each other’s throats, even as Lan Qiren’s brother ignored them all – and Lan Qiren returned to his proper place among the other Lan sect disciples.
“Did he really put you in the Fire Palace until you agreed?” one of them asked, then was promptly elbowed by at least three of his fellows – it was poor Lan Yueheng that had asked, naturally; he was extraordinarily good at mathematics and extraordinarily bad at just about everything else, including both tact and following the Lan sect rules. Lan Qiren had gotten on quite well with him in the past, each one happy to have an audience to listen to their rambling without caring too much if the other side was really listening, but Lan Yueheng was Lan Ganhui’s mother’s sister’s son, the two of them raised together like brothers, and in recent years the latter had a habit of restricting the former from spending too much time with Lan Qiren, the favorite subject of his mockery.
“No,” Lan Qiren said stiffly, and turned his face away in sudden upset. He had almost managed to forget that his new sworn brother was reputed to enjoy spending his free time torturing people, enough so that he had an entire prison devoted to it.
The older brother guided, the younger brother obeyed – what was Lan Qiren supposed to learn from Wen Ruohan? How to be cruel and pitiless, how to hurt people, how to increase his cultivation by doing all manner of dirty things?
Even if he didn’t learn such things, wouldn’t people assume it of him anyway?
“But I heard –” Lan Yueheng persisted, then hissed when someone stepped on his foot.
“No,” Lan Qiren said, stronger this time. “Do not speak behind the backs of others, Yueheng-xiong.”
“Oh. Right.”
Someone muttered killjoy under their breath, but that wasn’t exactly new; his brother thought he was one, and he was popular, so others often followed his lead - and anyway, perhaps he was. At any rate, they all stood around in awkward silence for a little while before someone decided to recount one of the incidents in the main event competition once again, their voice a little over-loud in the silence, and a perfectly anodyne conversation about Qingheng-jun’s performance started up in earnest to cover over all the things they did not say.
That, too, was not new.
Truly, life would be easier if everyone would just listen to the rules, Lan Qiren thought wistfully. The nice written-down ones, just those, and never mind about all the unspoken ones, the ones that everyone seemed to intuitively understand except for him – he tried his best to learn those, too, and to extrapolate from one situation to another, but unspoken rules seemed as changeable as a puff of cloud. It was simply impossible.
In the end, the sect leaders finished up their business and each of them took their leave from the Nightless City, just the way that always happened. Before he went, Lao Nie put his hand on Lan Qiren’s shoulder and said, “Write to me if you ever need anything at all,” while glaring at Wen Ruohan, who smirked back; Lan Qiren’s brother did not glance at either of them and merely walked off, his hands behind his back and his posture straight and tall as a tree. The other two Great Sect leaders, Jin and Jiang, exchanged glances of their own and headed off their own way without a word, choosing, quite prudently, not to get involved.
Lan Qiren saluted to Lao Nie and, slightly more hesitantly, to Wen Ruohan, then followed after his brother. To his relief, Wen Ruohan didn’t stop him, only watched him go, his eyes glittering malevolently - his gaze a palpable weight. It wasn’t quite like the first few times they’d met, where the pressure almost felt like the other man was exerting power on him; rather, Lan Qiren suspected, the weight he was feeling was only the weight of all the new expectations that had fallen onto his shoulders as a result of his new brotherhood.
The ride home was excruciatingly awkward.
It was not a short journey, and Lan Qiren did not speak to his brother once the entire time by mutual unspoken agreement. He might not have noticed such a thing normally, but his brother’s usually cool aura was positively frigid, driving Lan Qiren to silence even when he might have otherwise spoken on mundane matters such as the weather or travel conditions.
Lan Qiren even suspected that if he had dared to try, his brother might have used the muting spell on him.
Naturally, the other disciples followed his brother’s lead – poor Lan Yueheng looked especially torn up over it, and at one point Lan Qiren found a book on abstruse geometry hidden under his pillow in what was probably a well-meaning gesture of solidarity – and Lan Qiren was stuck in that uncomfortable place where he finally had the peace and solitude he often longed for when stuck in a crowd while also simultaneously feeling awful about it, struck with a sudden desire for the company of his family, however cold it might be.
When at last they returned home in the late afternoon, Lan Qiren knew from experience what to do next: he went straight to the hanshi, where his father was waiting for their report, and knelt in penance outside. If the trip had gone well, he would have helped his brother settle the final matters relating to their trip – putting back anything borrowed from the sect’s stores, registering everyone as having arrived with no one lost on the way, that sort of thing – but since it hadn’t, his duties were limited to…well, this.
It was unpleasant, but then, it was supposed to be.
He waited for over a shichen in unmoving silence. The remainder of the sect tiptoed around him, with the disciples that had remained behind sending him sympathetic looks that suggested that they didn’t know exactly what had happened but were burning with curiosity to find out.
It was already dark by the time his brother arrived.
When he did so, he walked right by Lan Qiren without looking and went inside.
There was no written rule against eavesdropping, although there were several unspoken rules about it that were sometimes but not always applicable, but even when (guiltily) straining his ears to the utmost, Lan Qiren could only hear the vaguest murmur of voices within.
It was only after some time – towards the end of his brother’s report, no doubt – that there was a brief uptick, a surprised exclamation (possibly “what?!”, although Lan Qiren’s father was soft-spoken enough that even an exclamation was too muffled to be properly audible), and Lan Qiren braced himself.
After a little longer, the door to the hanshi opened.
“Qiren,” his father’s voice drifted out. “Enter.”
Lan Qiren got up, a little unsteady from all the kneeling, straightened himself out and walked inside, his hands folded behind his back. He would have knelt again, but his father waved for him to keep standing, frowning thoughtfully at him as his brother drank the tea they had been sharing.
“You swore an oath of brotherhood with Sect Leader Wen?” his father asked, his face frustratingly neutral.
Lan Qiren nodded, then amended: “I do not remember doing so. He offered me a toast, and would not allow me to reject it, and then the next morning, he informed me that we had sworn an oath together and showed me the written version of the oath.”
The paper in question was laid out on the table in front of his father. Lan Qiren’s brother had confiscated it after Wen Ruohan had showed it to him, and Lan Qiren hadn’t figured out a way to ask to see it, though he desperately wanted to know whether they had sworn one of the classical brotherhood oaths or if they’d added their own clauses. It seemed like a thing Wen Ruohan would do, yet the idea had only belatedly occurred to Lan Qiren, which meant he hadn’t properly examined the oath while he’d had the chance.
His father hummed thoughtfully.
“There’s no reason to doubt Sect Leader Wen,” Lan Qiren’s brother opined. “He is meticulous in his schemes. Even if there were, the announcement was public; I would not have our clan be known as oath-breakers.”
“Public and unrefuted,” Lan Qiren’s father said, and Lan Qiren blinked because he almost sounded disapproving – but his father never disapproved of anything his brother did, as far as he knew. “Still, you are not wrong. There are few more decisive than Sect Leader Wen. Once he settled on his course, he would not leave such a gap through which one could retreat, not even for himself…Qiren.”
Lan Qiren straightened.
“You were unharmed?”
He blinked at the unexpected question, the same his brother had posed.
“I only had a headache,” he said hesitantly, vaguely aware from the way his father looked at him and his brother did as well that his answer was not what they were expecting. “From the liquor. Nothing else.”
“Did anything else hurt?” his father pressed. “Your body?”
Lan Qiren thought back. “My upper arms,” he said, remembering. He’d thought it was from the uncomfortable bed. “And my right knee. They were a little bruised, I think, but it went away after Sect Leader Wen shared spiritual energy with me.”
His father frowned and twisted his fingers in a gesture; an array opened beneath Lan Qiren’s feet, and the places he had mentioned, as well as his palms and forehead, began to glow.
The marks on his arms, glowing with the pale echoes of Wen Ruohan’s qi, were in the shape of hands.
(Wen Ruohan had commented on Lan Qiren’s enthusiastic telling of the Lan sect rules while intoxicated, to the point of seeking to hold him down as an unwilling audience. Had Wen Ruohan had to physically restrain him from causing trouble as well?)
“The disgrace was minimal, then,” his brother remarked, and when their father said nothing but dismissed the spell Lan Qiren abruptly realized that they were trying to figure out if he had, in fact, been deflowered, just as Wen Ruohan had teasingly hinted that night. He had not shared with anyone that he had woken up in Wen Ruohan’s bed, too mortified to do so, and now that the suggestion had been seriously raised, he was even more determined never to do so. “Not that that will help the rumors.”
Lan Qiren hadn’t thought – surely people wouldn’t think – wouldn’t assume –
Wen Ruohan had no reputation for liking young boys. He wasn’t even known to cut his sleeve!
(Lan Qiren didn’t know what he himself liked. He’d thought he’d have more time to figure it out.)
“We do not guide our sect according to rumors.”
His brother put down his teacup with a little more force than necessary. “Is it the sale or the price that you object to, Father?” he asked, voice far sharper than it should be when speaking to an elder, least of all their father. “See what I have accomplished for our sect, and without even the official authority of being vested as sect leader! It is just as you taught me! Am I to flinch simply because he shares my blood?”
“It is not what is taken,” their father responded, his voice a little sharper than usual as well, but not by much; he might as well have been commenting disapprovingly on an unfortunate turn in the weather. “But that it is Wen Ruohan who takes. His greed knows no boundaries, his recklessness grows by the year – today Qiren is unharmed and your plans may proceed, but what of tomorrow?”
“Have you thought of any better use to put him to? His role is to serve the sect!”
“As a disciple of the Lan sect,” their father said. His tone was still mild, but his voice was icy enough to make Lan Qiren shiver in a confused sort of fear that he did not quite understand. “Not as a plaything for Wen Ruohan.”
By all rights, Lan Qiren’s brother ought to now kneel and beg forgiveness from his elder, his sect leader, his father, but instead he only shook his head. “An oath of brotherhood goes both ways,” he reminded their father, speaking to him as if they were equals. “Sect Leader Wen announced to the world that he swore an oath with a child – does that not also mean that responsibility for his safety and wellbeing falls equally on his shoulders? Any harm to him stains Sect Leader Wen’s name as much if not more than ours.”
“Are we to let outsiders educate our children, then?”
“One cannot compare a foolish younger son to a brother, voluntarily chosen. He chose it, not us; everyone knows this. Any mistakes Qiren makes will fall heavier on his shoulders.”
Their father frowned deeply enough to carve additional lines into his prematurely aged face. “You plan to use Qiren as a lever, then, and extract concessions for every slight.”
His brother shrugged, almost careless in his arrogance. “If Sect Leader Wen chooses to give me such a handle over him, am I meant to refuse? For all his clever schemes, he is also known to be moody and impulsive, easily lured into rashness…I see an opportunity here, not a trap. You chose to give me responsibility early, to have me help you make our sect stronger, greater; that is what I was born to do. You gave me power and I have done well with it, done exactly what you’ve asked me to do. I’ve made you proud - haven’t I?”
“But what of the risk that Wen Ruohan might ignore public opinion and harm Qiren regardless?” his father pressed, not answering. It wasn’t really necessary, of course; he was always proud of Lan Qiren’s brother, no matter what he did - his eldest son was his treasure, the only thing he cared for; it was as fact as undeniable as the direction in which the sun rose each morning. “The Lan sect does not buy riches with blood.”
“I have thought it over, Father,” his brother said quietly. “It is only a risk that he might be harmed, not a guarantee; it’s not as if I am sending Qiren to the Fire Palace myself. And there is the hope here, not of riches, but of glory for the sect –”
“Glory for the sect?” their father asked, voice rich with meaning Lan Qiren did not understand. “Or for yourself?”
“Are they not one and the same?” Lan Qiren’s brother was unmoved. “In the future, it will be mine, and so there is no difference - whatever you say now, that is what you have always shown me. Besides, Qiren will agree.”
Lan Qiren did not take a step backwards when they turned to look at him, though he dearly wanted to. His hands were still behind his back, gripped tight enough to hurt; he suspected when he looked later on he would find blood beneath his fingernails, dug in deep into his flesh.
“Well?” their father asked of him, though his gaze settled somewhere above Lan Qiren’s head as it always seemed to, as different as night and day from the tender and forgiving looks he gave his eldest son even in the midst of their argument. His voice was so cold that Lan Qiren could feel it against his skin like the bitter winter wind. “What do you say?”
Is it the sale or the price that you object to?
It’s not what is taken, but that it is Wen Ruohan who takes.
Have you thought of any better use to put him to?
His role is to serve the sect.
“I do not see what choice there is,” he said dully, his eyes focused on his father’s face just as his father’s refused to focus on his, foolishly still looking for the affection he knew he would likely never find. In his father’s mind, he had only one son – even his objections on Lan Qiren’s behalf, however mild, were nothing more than what he would have said on behalf of any Lan sect disciple. Even Lan Qiren, foolish and bad at people as he was, could see that his father’s primary concern over the approach his brother had suggested was its potential impact on the reputation of his brother and his sect. “I swore an oath. Even if I do not remember it, as a matter of personal honor, I will not allow myself to be foresworn.”
“There,” his brother said, his voice rich in satisfaction. “You see? The choice is made. It is only what we do with it now that matters.”
Lan Qiren bit his lower lip to keep himself from doing something stupid, like asking do either of you care about me at all.
“Very well,” their father said indifferently. “Then it will be as you say. Qiren.”
“Father.”
“You will spend the night kneeling in the ancestral hall to consider the consequences of violating the prohibition against alcohol and the injunction to maintain your discipline. In view of the circumstances, no other punishment will be imposed.”
“Thank you, Father.”
“Dismissed.”
As Lan Qiren left, he heard his father ask his brother to tell him about the riding competition.
He did not ask about music.
#mdzs#lan qiren#qingheng-jun#wen ruohan#sect leader nie#sect leader lan#my fic#my fics#spilled pearls
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Part 2 - Basic Concepts of Miraculous Ladybug: Kwami
Kwamis are a fun concept and one of the main draws of the series. They make sense story-wise because, firstly, our characters need some support system. And since a lot of conflicts are centred around secret identities, characters should be able to discuss their double life with someone. As magical beings they could also be used to expand the lore, introduce new concepts and drive forward both the plot and character development. It doesn't always happen but Kwamis are a good idea. Some people who write AU's think that Kwamis are redundant, but I have to disagree.
Origins and nature
Where do Kwamis come from? What are they? It's never explained. Oh wait, it was explained in a comic people can accidentally find. You decide to explain the origins and nature of magical beings who are one of the key elements in your magic system and worldbuilding IN A SIDE COMIC, which has zero effect on your main story. Sounds legit.
Here it is.
So, Kwamis are abstract creatures. They can become tangible and interact with the world because of the miraculous jewels. Essentially, each Miraculous acts as an anchor to the material world for Kwami. They existed since the beginning of time and were invisible observers of the universe. Until they settled on Earth and observed how humanity came to be. This is where things get interesting.
Kwamis are the embodiment of abstract concepts. But, some abstract concepts were created by people (like everything mentioned in the comic: beauty, math, love, etc).
Kwamis wanted to help humans. And then, a human, who couldn't see, hear or touch a Kwami creates miraculous jewels. And now these beings can interact with the world, use their powers and grant them to humans. Yet, they are completely under control of their holder. I'll discuss it later, but why did Kwamis accept this deal? They are practically enslaved. At the same time they care about people and generally love humanity.
According to the wiki Kwamis grant powers because of "the privilege of having the ability to be perceived by mortals". What? Did I read that right? Kwamis agreed to be enslaved and used as a power source, because they wanted to interact with material world. That's it, guys, end of the story.
We also know these things about nature and abilities of Kwamis from the show:
1) need food, but only to provide the power for the holder;
2) can't phase through precious metals (Chloe's bracelet in "Rogercop"), their own miraculous and humans;
3) they can control if they phase through things or not – meaning that if they want to, they can (this way Tikki can stay in Marinette’s purse without much trouble and Plagg sleeps on Adrien’s pillow);
4) they can perform magic without a holder but they don’t control it very well, there are certain types of things that they can’t do without a holder;
5) they are immortal but can get sick for some reason, a non-magical reason mind you;
6) technology can't detect them in any way, you can't film, photograph or record their voices (writers establish this many times, but promptly forget all about their own rules in "Optigami", where Marinette talks with Kwamis over the phone without any problems).
If I missed something important, then let me know.
Look, the questions related to origins and motivations of Kwamis might not be very prominent in your story right now, but you must answer them in case you might need to involve these facts in the plot down the line. It's important to avoid contradictions in the serialised story with liquid plot, that can't be set in stone. It's a made up world for the sake of everything sacred! You can make up explanations and rules, of course as long as they don't contradict common sense.
Plausible ideas for origins and nature of Kwamis:
1) Kwamis are immortal spirits, whom humans accidentally summoned and bound with spells to Miraculous stones. They remember their existence before this. This version doesn't really explain their desire to serve people and love for humanity, however. It would be more logical for Kwamis to resent people for enslaving them. It doesn't explain how humans could create those spells and Miraculous stones either.
2) Kwamis are physical manifestations of abstract concepts who existed simply as fragments of matter for a very long time without sentience, until they were accidentally summoned through the Miraculous stones and bound by humans to serve them. Kwamis do not remember their existence before Miraculous. In this version Kwamis serve humans and love them because they have never known a different kind of existence. Unfortunately, it doesn't provide any explanation on the creation of Miraculous and spells.
3) Kwamis are gods, who created the universe with all its elements and concepts including humanity (similar to Valar and Maiar in Tolkien's Legendarium). They wanted to help their creations but discovered that their power was too wild and unpredictable for that. So, Kwamis decided to give up their free will and magical independence to help humanity. Together they created Miraculous stones for humans to use and sealed themselves inside. Kwamis as gods were abstract concepts, who didn't have a body. The act of sealing their power in the Miraculous gave them an opportunity to interact with outside world (an anchor) and each Kwami chose an small animal form (because humans easily formed bonds with animals, had animal companions (pets), small animals look non-threatening and familiar). Kwamis intentionally choose certain animal forms to suit the human symbolism. Humans later used magic that Kwamis discovered for them to place spells upon small gods (spells related to identity protection and so on). This version answers most questions, but if Kwamis are gods then powers they grant to people seem to be rather small.
Feel free to add more. I would be interested to hear your ideas.
Identity Protection
In "Origins" we learn that Wayzz can sense the aura of Butterfly Miraculous, a negative aura of activated Butterfly Miraculous, to be more precise. And yet, Tikki and Plagg are genuinely surprised to discover the identities of their holders in "Dark Owl". There are several things wrong with that.
Can Kwamis sense each other's presence? They shouldn't be able to do this to protect the identities of their holders. On the other hand, they are ancient spirits. So, their inability to sense each other seems weird. Unless it's the same situation as with the spell that does not allow them to speak the name of their holder aloud.
But if they can sense each other like Wayzz did, then it means that Plagg and Nooroo were living in the same house for over a year and nothing happened. I mean, Plagg could have just come upstairs, take off the brooch from Gabriel, while he is asleep and return it back to Fu.
This question lies right here, on the surface. And that's only one massive and very obvious plothole. How to fix it? Establish that Kwami can't sense each other for identity protection. In "Origins" Fu meditates on his balcony and Wayzz sees a charged Akuma flying by. That's how they discover that Butterfly is in Paris and the Miraculous is in the wrong hands. Perhaps, Gabriel akumatizes someone for the first time to survey the surroundings and general public is not aware of this. This works better in the narrative, giving Fu time to select holders for Ladybug and Black Cat. It also establishes whether Hawkmoth can remove the Akuma from someone without Ladybug and discharge it. Maybe it depends on the circumstances (sometimes he can, but if this person was akumatized many times or their emotions are too strong and their mind doesn't want to let Akuma go then Hawkmoth can't pull the butterfly out with his magic). This scenario allows for Volpina to happen on "Heroes' Day". Silly recurring Akumas like Gigantitan and Mr. Pigeon could still happen. In this case Gabriel didn't want to akumatize the guy more than 70 times on purpose. It just keeps happening against his better judgement because evil butterflies are automatically attracted to Mr. Ramier. This way repeated attacks of Mr. Pigeon annoy Hawkmoth just as much as they do the heroic duo of Paris (I did not sign up for this Nathalie!).
Let's come back to the spell mentioned earlier for a moment. Kwamis can't say the name of their current holder out loud, but apparently, they can exploit a loophole in the spell by confirming the identity of their holder in another way. The spell doesn't work with other holders. Kwami can say the names of other holders if they know their identity. That being said, can the holder order the Kwami to tell them the identities of other heroes if they know them?
Kwamis know how each Miraculous looks with or without camouflage. Can the holder order the Kwami to tell them how each Miraculous looks in disguise (I liked that Grimoire doesn't have pictures of camouflage for identity protection)? Guardians can recognise Miraculous in any mode (Su Han). Did Fu teach Marinette this? Does she know how each Miraculous looks like unactivated?
Oh! Since we are discussing camouflage, let's take a moment to appreciate the Mother Of All Plotholes. Plagg didn't recognise Peacock because of the plot.
Relationship with Holder
I absolutely loved the idea that Kwamis must obey their holder introduced in "Sandboy". This concept opens tons of plot opportunities. It's such a great idea that makes sense, has potential, can create conflict. Why, oh, why didn't writers develop it more?
Like, it was so good. It can be a great push for character development. This concept resolves so many existing inconsistencies within the plot. It's mind-blowing.
Why can't Nooroo simply leave Gabriel, so that he wouldn't be able to transform? Because Gabriel bound him with Miraculous to always stay near.
In "Sandboy" Tikki asks Marinette's permission before going to the meeting. Plagg lies to Adrien instead. This implies that usually Plagg's holders weren't kind to him or feared his power (Su Han's remark in "Furious Fu"). Perhaps, his holders were taught to keep the Kwami of destruction under constant control. So, Plagg in turn has learned not to ask, because if he doesn't ask permission then his holder can't deny him freedom with magic.
Can Kwami lie to their holder? Maybe they can't lie to their holder about their nature, origins and powers and other Miraculous (but Kwamis can't reveal the location of Miracle Box, Guardian's identity and can't confirm identities of other holders known to them in any way). Kwami would be forced to speak even if they don't want to. That's why Nooroo told Gabriel everything about the abilities of the Butterfly Miraculous and the wish secret of Ladybug and Black Cat.
But Kwamis can lie to their holder according to Plagg in "Sandboy". If Kwamis can lie about everything (including powers) then Nooroo didn't have any reason to be honest with Gabriel way back in "Origins".
Speaking of Gabriel and Nooroo. Can Kwamis harm their holder? Maybe doing so would harm the Kwami as well. Can they do it only when the holder is not wearing the Miraculous? Can Kwami take their Miraculous from their holder? Will they disappear if they try to do so? It seems like Kwami disappears only when the holder takes off the Miraculous with the intention of renouncing power, the words "I renounce you" are not necessary.
Other Kwamis can take the Miraculous from people if it's not their own (Wayzz in "Feast"). But what if it wasn't possible. Imagine what could happen if it's not possible to take the Miraculous by force from the transformed or untransformed hero. Just like Lady WiFi couldn't remove Ladybug's mask. A person has to willingly give up the Miraculous. Only in this case, it's possible to take it. For example, somewhere around the middle of season 3 Hawkmoth could have trapped Ladybug and Chat Noir and cut off any escape routes. His Akuma tries to take both Miraculous, but they don't budge. Then afterwards, every Akuma tries to manipulate the heroes using hostages, illusions or mind control. It's hard to say whether this version will be better than canon, but it's a fascinating theory.
You can use the idea of obedience to create more situations contrasting the relationship of Plagg and Adrien, Gabriel and Nooroo. I liked how canon created a storyline about Plagg learning to control his powers without a holder and Adrien helping him. However, why would you stop here? Give us some flashbacks about Plagg's previous holders, tell us what kind of people they were. Expand the lore and add some character development for Plagg and Adrien. The same thing goes for Marinette. What kind of battles did they have in the past? What kind of people past holders were? Did Ladybug and Black Cat heroes always get along well? Were they allies or enemies? Were they always lovers?
Give us more information about Butterfly and Peacock holders. Perhaps Nooroo has dreams about his past holders who were good people. Show us what kind of things a Butterfly holder with good intentions can do. Tell us more about Duusu and her past holders, sprinkle in a few bits of info about Emilie and Duusu's relationship, just a few vague hints to preserve the mystery. You have a lot of screentime each season and instead of doing filler episodes dedicated to love drama, you can use them for developing minor characters, relationships between them and lore.
#miraculous ladybug#ml#miraculous analysis#miraculous meta#ml meta#ml analysis#miraculous transformations#miraculous critical#miraculous ladybug critical#miraculoustalesofladybugandcatnoir#kwami#miraculous kwamis#miraculous holders
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you should do the toto seb overstim stuff as a continuation of the seb x merc driver because ᵘʰʰ toto said something mysterious and then left ... like bro... join ? perhaps they bicker about aftercare because seb actually has feelings and toto just thinks he knows what’s best (and like tiny feelings but it’s probably the fact that he’s the boss and is in control of everything)
(ok i realized when i re-read my first little teammates blurb that i made it seem like at the end that they aren't? teammates, but let's just pretend that never happened. seb and reader both drive for mercedes under toto as TP!)
sv/reader/tw - not proofread so my apologies for inconsistencies/issues. i don’t care that much. it’s 3.5ish k of smut (and some plot). i think i like it? idk. threesomes are hard.
warnings: threesome, toto is bossy (almost to a fault), i didn’t put enough seb in (i’m Sorry), overstim, orgasm control (?), spitting, crying during sex, sub drop (if you squint - i tried not to make it too heavy), there’s aftercare!! (lmk if i’ve missed anything!)
It had been two weeks since Toto walked in on you and Seb.
Two weeks of brilliant driving, of front row lockouts, of champagne-soaked Sundays.
Two weeks of denial.
You had played every card you had with both men, tempting them to break and give in. You'd met Seb in his driver’s room after a spectacular qualifying session that he had just barely beaten you in, stripped down to your sports bra with your underwear pushed aside as you laid back on his couch, two fingers sliding in and out of your cunt. He had taken one glance at you and laughed, bending down to pick up your sweaty fireproofs and race suit before tossing them in your direction.
“Get out,” he commanded, and you were too stunned to fight him. Your rage grew with each passing moment as he watched you fumble to put on the wet fabric.
“Fuck you,” you spat, the words venemous as tears pricked at the corners of your eyes.
When you entered your own room, just down the hall from his, you couldn’t get your hand back in your pants quickly enough, the shame of his offhand dismissal burning you from the inside out. The orgasm that ripped through you was vicious and you came with a shout, the sound easily disguiseable as one of rage. It wasn’t enough - not even close - to quell the need that built within you.
Toto had joined your private flight from one track to the next and you ended up in his lap as soon as the “fasten seatbelts” sign shut off.
He had grinned, looking down at you with amusement. “What is this?”
“You’re smarter than that Toto, you know what this is.” To prove your point you rocked your hips, sliding your covered core over his thigh.
He waved the stewardess away wordlessly when she approached with bottled drinks and made no move to touch you. “What this is,” he said, voice already stern, “is you beginning to directly disobey one of my orders.”
“Who says I haven’t already disobeyed your orders?”
He leveled you with one of his signature looks of disapproval, eyebrow raised and frown lines prominent.
You climbed off of him, arousal giving way to anger.
“Fuck your rules! Do you realize how stressful it is? Why do you think Seb and I ended up fucking in the first place? We need something to let off some of the pressure of being a fucking Mercedes driver!”
“You think being with him will last?”
“It’s not about being with him. It’s about relieving some of the stress that you put us under!”
He gestured wide with his arms, laughter almost mean. “You’re welcome to leave, sweetheart, but we both know you won’t. Sebastian was offered the same thing when the pressure first got to him and he stayed - has stayed - every time. You don’t want to lose Seb, the team — me. So you’ll put up with it. You may even find yourself enjoying it. Just another week, and then we’ll give you whatever you want.”
“Oh, so you and him have some fucked up agreement? Is that why he’s been getting preferential treatment on the track? So I’ll be even more wound up when you both corner me in my hotel room? Is that the whole point of your ‘orders’, Toto?”
He sat up straighter, his shoulders rolling back as he moved to make himself larger. Even seated in the plane seat, he still seemed to tower, larger than life. “He does not get preferential treatment - on track or off - for any reason and you know that. That’s the last I’ll hear of it.
Besides,” he continued, a dark chuckle leaving his lips as he settled back into the leather, motioning for the attendant to bring him a drink, “you’ll be wound up no matter what we do to you. It’s in your nature.”
“Fuck you,” you had said softly, settling down in the seat furthest from him with your face towards the window. Any closer and he would have been bound to see the fury of your heartbeat through your skin or hear your labored breath. Fighting with a man in his position, with his power, was the ultimate aphrodisiac. You’d never shied away from going toe-to-toe with him, especially not the few times it had escalated beyond arguing and moved into more. Arguing with him now, knowing there were so few boundaries still existing between you yet knowing he wouldn't back down or give in was beyond frustrating.
"You wish you could," he had said with a chuckle, raising his glass to his lips.
He had been right about you and you hated to admit it. The end of the triple header was in sight and you were wound up, springs loaded more tightly than they'd ever been, and neither Sebastian or Toto had so much as glanced your way unless required to by their jobs. They behaved in front of the media and team, but when it was just you around, it was as though you didn't exist.
You decided to funnel all of your anger towards them into other aspects of the weekend, giving them the same silent treatment they were dishing out. You did your best to ignore them both, going so far as to leave the post-race briefing early before conversations shifted to Sebastian’s car.
Later that evening, you receive a text from Toto.
We need to talk. Room 853.
Even though he was located just a few floors above you, you decide to make him wait, taking your time redressing and combing through your hair.
Thirty minutes later you swing the already-unlocked door open.
Toto stands at the desk, fingers flying over the screen of his phone while Seb lounges in the plush chair on the other side of the bed.
“What the hell is he doing here?”
Toto sets his phone aside and faces you. “I said we needed to talk. Sit down.”
“I’ll stand, thanks.”
Toto grins and shakes his head. “I wasn’t asking. Sit.”
“Woof,” you bark out as you collapse backwards on the bed, already annoyed that they’ve cornered you like this. Seb laughs and for the first time in more than a week, you feel a genuine smile tug at your lips.
“Funny,” Toto deadpans.
“Is this all you dragged me here for? Or is there actually a point to this conversation?”
Toto shakes his head. “Such an attitude. What’s gotten into you recently?”
“What’s gotten into me? How about what’s not gotten into me? You catch Seb and I together and then tell me I’m not allowed to get off for two weeks, lording that fact over my head at any chance you get. Then you two start treating me like I don’t exist at all and—”
"I know she's gotten off," Seb interrupts, his face smug, “at least once. And no," he says, eyes shooting over to Toto, "I didn't have anything to do with it."
"You don't know shit," you quip from the edge of the bed, words tossed over your shoulder towards him.
He stands and moves, stepping away and then back before the mattress dips right behind you. "The entire hospitality trailer heard you. Britta asked if she needed to go make sure you were okay, but I convinced her you were just pissed, like you usually are when I outqualify you. I think I do know 'shit'."
When you open your mouth to protest, he moves from behind you and slides a silk scarf between your lips, tying it off quickly behind your head.
When you look over to Toto in shock, he grins.
"Shake your head no or tap out right now and we'll do it your way - whatever that may be - no feelings hurt. But I think," he says, watching as Seb leans in close to nose at the delicate skin of your neck, "I think that you'll enjoy it our way."
You maintain eye contact with him as you raise your chin in one last act of defiance.
“You’re trembling,” Seb whispers, his voice low and goosebumps erupt across your skin.
“She’s desperate for it.”
“Remember your sign?” Seb presses his lips to your jaw.
You reach back and give Seb’s leg three taps with two fingers.
“Good girl.” He looks at Toto and gives him a nod.
“Here’s the thing, pet. I told you no orgasms. Did you obey that rule?”
You stare him down but shake your head no.
“You should have heard her,” Seb says, his hands smoothing up and down your rib cage, rucking at the fabric of your shirt, creeping closer and closer to the curve of your breast. You barely keep yourself from arching into his touch. “She was in my room after qualifying, fingering herself, and she got mad when I kicked her out. Went back to her room and must’ve made herself cum so hard she screamed.”
“Screamed?” Toto directs his question to you.
You drop your chin in shame, remembering how you had been pushed to your breaking point by Seb’s dismissal. When the silence hangs in the air, you lift your head and nod.
“Good thing we gagged you tonight then, huh?”
Your eyes go wide and you glance at Seb.
“Sorry love. Boss makes the rules.”
“How many do you think we can get from her before she taps, Sebastian?”
“Six,” he responds, grinning.
“I think eight. But, knowing her, she’ll pass out before she taps out.”
Toto steps forward and reaches out a hand, cupping your jaw gently. “Wish I could kiss you.” He traces his thumb over your stretch lower lip and you whine, the sound strained through the makeshift gag. “No, no,” Toto chides, leaning in to press a quick kiss to your forehead, “no whining, no begging. You wanted to cum so badly before, so we're going to let you now, as many times as we see fit. And you can’t ask for more or tell me to stop or use that smart mouth to sass me and piss me off. We’ll go until you learn that your orgasms are ours. Understand?”
You twist your head to give Seb more room as he presses kisses along your exposed skin, pulling your collar aside when he runs out of new real estate. You take a moment to consider what’s happening, what it will mean for you, and you lift your chin again, giving Toto a definitive nod.
———
You had lost count.
The first, wrought from you with Seb's fingers as Toto looked on and gave instruction, was forceful but not enough to slate the heat in your lower abdomen. The ache had persisted - insistent - until Toto shoved your knees wide and lowered his mouth to your core. Both men - Sebastian behind you and Toto kneeling below you - were still completely clothed while you writhed naked between them.
The second and third orgasms were claimed by Toto, his mouth working easy and lazy against your clit, as though this was just a hobby for him, and you let your head fall back onto Seb's shoulder as he dove back in for the fourth.
"You should see yourself," Seb says, voice low in your ear. His hands roam over your torso, fingers firm as they dig into your skin and move to pinch at your nipples. You back arches, offering more of yourself to the men before you, and your eyes drift closed.
"You look incredible," he continues, his hips lifting to press his hard length into the small of your back.
You work to open your eyes and look up to him, pleading as best you can without words, until you feel Toto work a finger into your dripping slit and your eyes flutter shut once again.
"That's it baby, come on. Let it go," Seb says, his eyes fixed on where Toto's mouth has sealed over your clit, tongue barely peeking past his lips with every rhythmic swipe of it over your tight bundle of nerves.
When another orgasm builds, every muscle in your body goes taught until it all snaps and you scream into the gag, arching away from Toto's mouth and Seb's hands and their combined overwhelming presence.
They give you a moment of peace while you work to catch your breath, inhales and exhales forceful through your nose and around the now-soaked scarf.
When Toto kneels on the bed he's finally naked, moving up the sheets until he's in front of you. "Doing so well, pet." He leans in over you, his nose brushing yours. "You still okay? We can take away the scarf if you want."
You lean into him, hands lifting to hold him close as you inhale his scent and feel his skin against yours. You pull back and nod your head, watching as he reaches around you to untie the scarf and toss it aside.
"Better?"
You nod, clearing your throat a few times before Seb, naked now too, appears behind you with a bottle of water. You sit up to take a few quick sips and pass it back, watching as he swallows the rest down easily.
Toto takes your chin in his hand and pulls you close, his lips meeting yours much more gently than you had expected, but the kiss deepens quickly. You can taste yourself on his tongue and it makes you moan, his lips pulling into a grin against yours until he pulls away. "You taste divine," he says, licking at his lips again.
Seb's hands settle on your hips and he tugs, swiftly raising you until you settle onto your knees, stance wide as you lean into Toto.
"Don't cum in her," Toto commands over your shoulder, and a shiver runs through you at his words.
"But--" Toto breaks off your thought with a finger to your lips.
"Just because I took the gag off doesn't mean you can talk back. Understood?"
"Yeah," you answer, watching as he leans back onto the bed, his hand moving down to stroke once, twice over his hard length.
"Try again."
"Yes, I understand." You continue watching his hand, distracted by the prominent veins and dark pink head of his cock. You lick your lips and he chuckles.
"Gets rid of the gag and immediately wants something back in her mouth," he teases, his words directed at Sebastian.
You glance over your shoulder to see him, his eyes fixed on your ass as he runs one of his hands back and forth over the smooth skin there. The other hand holds his cock with what looks like a too-tight grip.
"Sometimes I have to stick a finger or two in her mouth while I'm fucking her. Keeps her quiet at least." He already sounds wrecked as he teases your folds with the head of his cock.
You scoff and Toto reaches a hand up, burying it in the hair at the nape of your neck. He drags your head down to his cock and you open your mouth automatically. He's larger than Seb, wider and a bit longer, but something inside of you begs to impress him, to be able to take him all in one go.
"What did I just say?" he asks, holding you just out of reach.
Seb chooses that moment to suddenly - finally - push his way in, your wet pussy making the slide easy, and you mon.
You whine when his hips hit your skin, the feeling of being filled almost too much already.
You don't have time to process the intrusion before Toto is pushing his cock past your lips. Seb pulls out slowly and then presses back in. Before you know it, you're being filled as quickly as one hole is empty, from one end or the other, and you lose yourself in the rhythm of it as they use you.
When Seb reaches around your hip to settle the pads of two fingers over your clit, you buck into his hand, Toto's cock falling from your lips as you swear, already too sensitive. He bats your reaching hand away and thrusts harder, fueled by the hitching of your breath and the way you tighten around him, squeezing like a snake.
Toto pulls at your hair, straining your neck to meet his gaze. "Cum on his cock, pet."
“It’s too much,” you choke out, barely a whimper, as Seb begins to grind into you with each thrust. It’s overwhelming, being fucked by Seb while Toto commands your attention.
“Don't stop,” Toto directs at Seb. Then he looks back down at you.
“She’s so fucking tight,” you hear Seb say, still looking up, watching the way Toto grins at his words.
“Open your mouth and stick out your tongue.”
You follow his command and he grabs your jaw with one hand, holding your mouth just where he wants it. He stares for a moment before opening his own mouth and spitting slowly, his hot saliva hitting the center of your tongue. He holds you there, your mouth open, for just a moment before pressing your jaw up.
“Swallow.”
“Fuck, shes cumming again, I can feel it. She’s just— Fuck!”
Seb pulls out suddenly and even through the tremors of your own orgasm, you can feel the hot splashes of his release across your back. He groans and stumbles back, collapsing into the nearby chair.
“Toto,” you whine, desperately needing both more and for this to end. You can feel the beads of sweat slide down your back, the tendrils of hair at your temples damp and sticking to your skin.
“Come here.” He grips your arm and drags you up, rolling over you as he moves you where he wants you: on your back underneath him. He pushes your knees up almost too-high and looks down your sex. “Look so pretty, all fucked out like this. Pink and puffy.”
You flush at his casually obscene observance, at the act of him looking at you - at all of you.
“Should I get my mouth on you again? Make you cum with my tongue? Maybe two, three more, make you beg me to stop.”
“Toto,” you beg, unsure of what you’re asking for. More would wreck you - ruin you - but yet the ache for him, for anything, still sits hotly within you.
“I could do it. I could sit with my face there for hours, pet.”
“Please fuck me,” you try instead, head swimming with his words, with how tempting it is to take him up on his offer.
“Now she uses her manners.” He moves up and aligns his cock with your slit, teasing your entrance just as Seb had before. He thrusts in fast then, lowering himself to swallow your cry direct from the source. He holds still, his breathing easy as your chest heaves, hips already working in search of friction.
“Please,” you beg, near tears, as the mere feeling of him filling him up sets you off, the wave of another orgasm building quickly. “Toto, please, fuck me, please.”
He pulls back and nearly out, glancing down as the head of his cock catches on the rim of your pussy. When he pulls all the way, you cry out, your desperation met with a chuckle. “I told you pet, your orgasms are mine. You cum when I say you can cum. Sebastian makes you come when I say he can. Are we clear?”
You nod, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes with desperation.
“Good girl. And just so you don’t forget it,” he says, thrusting back in, hard, “we’re going until I’ve had enough.”
You arch into him, your body taking over as it seeks out any tendrils of pleasure he’s willing to give.
He takes his hands in yours and raises them above your head, his body stretching long over yours as you cry out with his deeper thrusts.
You suddenly still, your legs trembling around him as your tears fall, the sudden orgasm absolutely stealing your breath. He groans and slows, grinding his hips into yours, the pressure of him inside you prolonging your release as he relishes the feel of you constricting around him.
“That’s it, there you go. So good for me.”
“I can’t— Toto, I—”
“You can, I know you can. Such a good girl, you can take it. Give me one more, come on, you’re so pretty when you cum for me like this.”
His patient, deep thrusts are more than enough to set you off again, and you sob as you feel it creep in, absolutely nothing to be done to stop it. Your voice is hoarse when you shout as it finally crashes over you, your vision going white and hearing going fuzzy.
Toto’s thrusts turn erratic then and he too pulls out with a groan. You watch with barely-open eyes as he grips his cock and strokes himself just once before painting your stomach with his own release.
“Fuck,” he pants, staring down at your body.
Tears continue to gather at the corners of your eyes and when you blink, they tumble down your temple to mix with the stale sweat there.
You sniffle and hear some shuffling before Seb appears, kneeling on the comforter next to you.
His voice is quiet when he speaks. “Come on love, let’s get you cleaned up. Did so good for us, let me take care of you now.” He turns to Toto. “Go get a warm, damp cloth from the bathroom. She’ll want to be held and I doubt you want to get jizz everywhere.”
“How do you know what to do?”
“Because she and I have talked about it! As much as it kills you to give up some control here, just follow my lead. She might ask for something from you, she might not. But just shut up and let me take care of her.”
Toto stares for a moment, watching the way Seb moves in - to press a kiss to your temple, to muzzle at your cheekbone - and how it almost brings a smile to your face, before he follows Sebastian’s request.
He returns and passes the rag to Seb, listening to the soothing way he praises you as he wipes your skin clean, folding the rag over itself to wipe at the sweat drying on your collarbones and neck.
When Seb turns to toss the rag away, you grab for Toto then, tugging him down almost beside you, half of his body still heavy on top of yours. He adjusts and wraps himself around your back, his frame completely engulfing yours, watching as Seb mirrors the pose in front of you, still speaking in such hushed tones that leave Toto straining to hear what’s being said. When your voice breaks through, his name somewhere on your lips, he leans in.
“Of course he’s proud of you,” Seb replies to whatever question you had asked. “I am too.”
Toto leans in to press a kiss to your shoulder and your head turns, now-bright eyes meeting his. “Thank you,” he mumbles, pressing another open-mouthed kiss to your skin. He continues his gentle assault, lips brushing any inch of skin he can reach. “I mean it. Thank you.”
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@daily-writing-challenge February 21, Day 2
(TW for canon-typical violence, manipulation and implied sexual content)
February 21, Day 2. Protect — Fray
"What's the big fuss all 'bout?"
It was no use. No matter how intently he listened, he didn't understand a single word the buzzing swarms of his brethren let out. Concern. Ire, even. That was all he picked up from his spot right behind Kayn, who discussed, animatedly, matters he couldn't quite grasp.
"Ah, Suncaller. Just in time. Your sister was aiding Darkweaver with procedures to drive back the demons. You will be tasked with rescuing civilians from the Exodar."
Sarcyon nodded. Unlike him to ignore orders from his superior! The Slayer had bid Kayn, and he would obey the both of them.
Lap dog.
"What's the plan, boss?"
-
He was debriefed in simple and straightforward terms: his favorite way, if anyone cared to ask him, to receive orders. And just as he was instructed, he wanted the Pack. Capital P.
Those were the most trusted canine-bound Illidari, and he had the honor of being one of their ambassadors, and leaders. Perhaps from his achievement and antiquity in the order, or perhaps out of a revering fear of the demon he'd been bound to. Whatever the reason, the Pack's triumvirate (bound to a Gloomhound, a Demonic Core Hound, and himself to a Charhound) was obeyed and assisted by a swath of eager, skillful souls, but it didn't stop there.
They looked after one another like members of a clan, or a family. Where Illidari loyalty ran thick, Pack loyalty was unbreakable, forged in bonds of heightened gregarious spirit granted by the shards of canine souls embedded into theirs.
They were a highly efficient group, as they operated on trust and experience. Simply put, a bad idea did not pass the Pack council. If any member suggested a suicide mission, there was an immediate disagreement that resulted in a better plan. Despite there being a ruling position, every concern was given equal voice and discussed, and for this matter they utilized not Demonic or Common, but Wolf. Snarls, howls, barks and body language, as well as some odor cues made for fast and nuanced communication. Again, highly efficient.
The Pack was dispatched, and the sounds of hooves and claws beating on the ground filled the Exodar. Some of the injured Draenei thought them heralds of more demonic demise, but their friendly, eagerly helpful disposition was welcome with open arms when given the chance to show it. Hounds tended to their wounds, and the people quickly saw that these trained doglike warriors would jump in harm's way even if only to buy them time. Luckily, they were also savage fighters, goring enemies like it was little more than a dance to them. Even a dreadguard fell with ease to their practised formation.
"Thank you…" a draenei woman said in a choked up cry as she looked up at Sarcyon with tearful eyes. He cauterized her hand, or what was left of it after being trampled by a scared Elekk, using the heated palm of his hand, and let his scaled body shift with metamorphic growth, allowing her to safely ride on his scaled back. His horns and mane offered concealment and protection, and he evacuated five other injured civilians along with her.
"Voidmaw, secure this hall. Sniff around for any survivor we've missed," he barked at the beastly Hunter to his left, whose demonic form served as a bulwark for more than a dozen scared children while five howling Felstalkers gutted a doomguard with glaives and claws alike.
The day was won for the pack. Nobody expected any less of them.
-
Have you ever thought of seizing power? You could be much more than a complacent puppy.
They don't listen to you. It is me they fear. I made you.
Everything you are now you owe to me. You are a man by my grace. Our pact-
"Shut UP about the pact! Y'got enough."
You lie to yourself and to all of them. Worse than that, you are deluded. Not a leader but a frontman. Digestible. Stupid eye candy. They keep you around like one keeps a well-groomed pedigree whelp; not out of respect, not for use. For looks. Among brutes with bloodstained bare paws, you keep yours clean. Sanitized.
"I'll show you clean."
The Pack often indulged, all together. Ritualized. Paramount orgies of bloodshed and licentiousness designed to quieten the baying of hedonistic demons. This would be one such night.
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