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moominsuki · 1 year

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THE DRIEST SPELL OF THEM ALL (7.1k) — bakugou katsuki x f!reader

✎ᝰ you've only been in a relationship with bakugou for a short while, but you can't help but think it's strange that you haven't had sex. guess it's time to change that.

࿄ ! warnings — nsfw, straight up penetrative sex, established relationship, oral sex (f!receiving), unprotected sex, lots of praise and feelings, bakugou is a sweetie pie, not a safe space for minors, reader is a college student and bkg is a pro hero.

/ note. this is my first, long fic and i'm so excited to share it with you guys. honestly was so fun to write and it has a lot of plot but who is uma if she doesn't have loads of self-indulgent dialogue?? anyways minors please do not interact with this and to the rest of you, please enjoy my very smutty fanfic.

to bakugou, the first time you and him have sex happens out of the blue. the relationship is relatively new and fresh - only around three-four months in. you do think it is kind of weird that you guys haven’t crossed the line of actually doing the deed.

you both have tiptoed the threshold of making out and soft touches. like when he came over to your place and you both made out after dinner together. you offered to put on a movie - just a random romance flick that you don’t seem to remember now; considering the tension in the room could’ve been cut with a meat cleaver.

just three months ago, it had been your third date and you’d only passed a few light touches and long hugs at this juncture so when he put his hand on your bare knee, it was game over. you pounced on the blond and kissed him for as long as your breath willed you to. it just probably was not the best idea for you to try to undress on your couch.

“is it alright if i take this off?” you say, going to grab the hems of your light pink shirt that wasn’t doing enough to cover the hardness of your nipples. bakugou nosed at your jaw and kissed at your neck before he bit back a groan at this and rested his hands at hem of your skirt before nodding.

“fuck, you don’t gotta ask me, princess. just do it.” your hands slipped under your shirt and revealed underside of your boobs - which bakugou was ready to smooth his hands over until the footsteps of someone approached your living room.

“hey y/n- oh my GOD. i am so sorry oh-” and the footsteps are heard running to another room before a SLAM! echoes in the distance. you had not anticipated that your roommate would be arriving home so early but then again, common sense would have told you to go to your bedroom.

alas, it was too late. the mood had dampened significantly and bakugou awkwardly made his way out of your apartment - failing to look at you or your red faced roommate. he did, however, send a text apologising to the both of you and by the next day, everything had seemingly been forgotten.

the sexual tension had not been forgotten.

there would be many more days where you and bakugou would get hot and steamy before being interrupted by his friends, or a phone call coaxing him back to work, or the fact that the both you were super busy. he was an up and coming hero and while your career wasn’t as demanding as your better half, you were a busy college student: with assignments piling by the day, leaving you with little time to do anything with your boyfriend… which left you both sexually frustrated and unsatisfied… until now.

“there’s so many hot guys here. i should really pick you up more often,” sighs mina happily as she waves at a guy on your campus.

“mina, you are literally a pro hero. you could find a guy way hotter than… the guy who literally sits behind me in my pharmacy class. and he’s a stupid fuckboy, by the way.”

“good thing is i have a thing for stupid fuckboys,” she smiles and you roll your eyes. “but enough about meeee,” she drawls and you groan out loud, “what’s up with you and mr dynamight?” you both reach a red light and she turns to wiggle her eyebrows at you.

“nothing. well, not nothing - we’re fine. just fine.”

“you guys haven’t had sex yet?”

you splutter indignantly and mina taps onto the steering wheel and nods empathetically.

“what- when did i even imply that-”

“a girl always knows when her friend hasn’t done the do with her boyfriend yet. always. you’d be glowing and bubbly and happy but here you are… low-key awkward, not glowing. you don’t have that post-sex first time glow-”

you yell over her ramblings, “okay, OKAY, i get it. fine, we haven’t had sex. but it’s not like we - i don’t want to. it’s just time and finding the privacy to… fuck. and you literally work with katsuki. you know how pedantic he is about his work and his free time.”

“so you’re saying he doesn’t want to fuck? or that he’s avoiding you?” quizzes mina and it’s your turn to sigh, albeit a little sadly.

“i don’t think he’s avoiding me but whenever we get to the point of just doing… it, something happens and now he just doesn’t really initiate it? i don’t know if it’s because he just knows we’ll be interrupted or he just doesn’t want to anymore… am i overthinking it?”

mina parks her car and stares straight on to fully digest what you say before nodding.

“no you’re not - but this is BAKUGOU we’re talking about. he’s not your average guy. have you seen the way he looks at you? it’s like he wants to eat you every time you enter a room. like genuinely i have never seen a more feral man so this is very surprising news to me,” ponders mina and you laugh a little at her admission, kind of grateful for it. before you can say anything, she turns to you and grabs your shoulders.

“i have the perfect idea! we’re having a party at the agency tomorrow night and you should “go.”,” she gestures with finger quotes. you look at her strangely and raise a brow.

“I should “go?”” you copy her gestures and she nods vehemently.

“are you catching my drift?…” you shake your head in confusion and she rolls her eyes, “jeez, okay, look, i’ll remind bakugou about the get together and i’ll tell him that i told you about it. he’ll invite you and when the day comes, you guys just don’t go.”

“we don’t show up? but why-” the cogs in your mind turn inquisitively before you put two and two together at mina’s wiggling brows and you “ohhhhh” in mutual understanding.

“you know, that’s not a half bad idea. as long as you can everyone to not question our absence…”

mina laughs, offended a little at your quip, “y/n, baby, lovely. when i make a proposition, i tie up all the loose ends. it’s just up to you to find the right time and place. you get one evening to sort your sexual tension out. after that, it’s smooth sailing. and i prayyy that you do. have you noticed that he’s been really pent up? bakugou’s angry but he’s like, exceptionally angry, these days-”

“if you’re trying to insinuate he’s mad because he’s sexually frustrated, i have no answer to that. and we’ve been sitting in your car for almost 20 minutes now. we probably look crazy,” you note and mina sighs and nods before grabbing her things.

“you can avoid this conversation but when he taps that, you will tell me all about it and i will not accept no for an answer.” you hum indifferently and make a mental reminder to make up a story if the night that entails will be as raunchy as you hope it will be.

when mina drops you home, bakugou sends a text.

katsuki: y/n, did mina tell you about some dumb thing we’re doing at the agency?”

you smile at that.

you: yeah, she mentioned it. why, are you thinking of going?”

hook…

you tap your toes expectantly as you see the bubbles disappear and reappear.

katsuki: don’t really want to but they’re gonna force me to, so fuck it. you doing anything tomorrow night?”

line…

you: nope, don’t have any plans. why?”

katsuki: you wanna come with as a date? you’ll brighten up the shitty place.”

sinker.

you squeal at your phone and collect yourself to reply.

“sure, kats, I’d love to go with you. you can come over to my parents place so we can get ready together if you’d like.”

“you busy right now? wanna call you.”

he doesn’t wait for you to answer and it rings. you often think you got lucky for having such an easygoing and pliant man and today cements your beliefs as you go to pick up his call.

ᝰᝰᝰᝰᝰ

the day of the party seems like a long one. you made sure that your parents would not be home for the weekend - while it’s terribly unsexy to fuck in your parents home, the chance of your roommate bombarding your sexy time with your boyfriend is too high of a chance to risk and you’ve spent more time than necessary thinking about what the day would entail.

now that you’ve shed your pyjamas, you look at yourself in your bathroom mirror. your orange panties are doing nothing to hide the outline of your kitty and you’re definitely certain that the bra’s purpose was purely just encase your boobs in a rune of bright orange and white.

“i’m never letting mina pick out lingerie for me again,” you sigh as you poke and prod at the pieces. of course mina had to pick out the most raunchy, provocative and immodest pieces known to man. you’re pretty sure you could see the colour of your nipples sticking out of the material. you were somewhat questioning whether this was a good idea. what if bakugou thought this was too much? would he even like this? you definitely should’ve asked him first-

katsuki: on my way. will be there in five.

of course he texts you right at this moment, breaking you out of your horny driven and frantic stupor.

now that you really think about it, when you recall all the time you’ve almost been with bakugou, it makes you close your legs together to calm down any heartbeats ruminating between your legs. it makes the situation of not actually having sex with him yet even more heartbreaking - you want the feeling of his hands running down your body, his lips nipping at your lower belly, down to where you really want him. it makes you wonder what position he’d fold you into, if he’d press you into the mattress and make you cum till you were shaking and crying…

you inhale deeply and run around your home to do a few, final touches. you felt like you were a teenage girl all over again - faffing all about the house and praying that your parents wouldn’t come home and notice that your boyfriend fucked you into your flowery sheets. and you hoped bakugou wouldn’t just yet notice the strong smell of his your favourite perfume and the orange lace clinging onto your ass and boobs underneath meticulous layers of less attractive pyjamas. is this what they call reverse psychology? it’s no time to ponder when your boyfriend knocks on the door and you practically launch yourself downstairs to greet him.

you have to bite back a moan when you see him. seeing as this was a relatively fresh relationship, you both agreed that you wouldn’t always obsess over seeing each other. the last time you saw bakugou was two or so days ago and you make a mental note to throw away that line of thinking when you see your boyfriend in all his glory.

he’s wearing his typical grey joggers and hoodie combo (the one who looks the most biteable in) and he pushes down his hood to reveal his wheat-haired mullet and downright gorgeous face. he enters your home and you stand by patiently waiting for him to drop his bag and take off his shoes before touching all on him.

“you not gonna say hello?” bakugou says gruffly and you roll your eyes (in your head, of course) before walking up to him and wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing his cheek.

“hey, baby. missed you,” you kiss into his face and bakugou wraps an arm round your waist and raises his arms to grabs at your cheeks to properly look at your face before kissing you once. and twice. thrice. even four times before you’re laughing and begging him to stop. with a stretched hand, you lead your boyfriend upstairs to your childhood bedroom.

“any reason ya wanted to stop off at your parents instead of my place?” bakugou asked, raising a brow in suspicion. you fight back the urge to overtly shudder at the thought of his friends ruining what will be a long night - especially if you had anything to do with it.

“i was just thinking that we don’t really get much time to ourselves. just us two. i think we’ve only had a proper date to ourselves maybe three times. and i am saying that loosely,” you admit. bakugou scoffs and sits on the edge of your bed.

“‘s not my fault people are always botherin’ us,” he mumbles and then he looks up at you and gestures for you to stand between his legs. you do so quite obediently.

“never said it was, baby,” you say, just above a whisper, as you brush the back of his hair and into his scalp. his hands rest at your knees and rub softly against your thighs and you really have to fight back the urge to jump his bones. but, alas, you had to make him want this just as much as you.

your boyfriend hums and leans into your touch and bakugou looks up at you and smiles, a little mischievous, “so we have your ‘rents house all to ourselves and ya wanna waste it on going to a lame ass company party?”

your eyes widen at that, not really expecting him to almost put two and two together so early on. you grossly underestimated the intelligence of your boyfriend so you had to dispel any ideas of sexual activity before he spearheaded into your plan.

“first of all, you invited me. and second of all, it’d be nice to go and come back to a place all to ourselves for once. we don’t really get to go to parties with your friends often,” you muse and bakugou groans and wraps his arms around your thighs.

“they wouldn’t even know we were missing…” he grumbles and you smile down at him and give him a kiss to his forehead, your thumb passing his brow piercing and booping his nose and lips.

“we don’t even have to go for that long if you don’t want to-”

“i don’t wanna go at all.” bakugou states adamantly and you tap his face and bask in his hold and affection.

“we only have to just show up, so you’re not gonna get out of this one easily. then you have me all to yourself. sounds good, kats?”

bakugou throws his arms off you and himself into your pillows and pulls his phone out - akin to a petulant child and you have to laugh. if only he knew what was actually going to happen.

“yeah, yeah, just - let’s just chill for a bit.. we can at least cuddle before we have to fucking spend time with those idiots,” katsuki grunts and you hum at his reply before clambering on top of your hulk of a boyfriend. you stare down at him in all his glory. now that you were right above him, you notice he looked more tan than usual. and did his lips always look so kissable?

“y/n? you all good up there?” kstsuki asks as he taps softly onto the planes of your temple. you look down at his nose and then his lips and it’s settled.

fuck it. there was no going back now. this was happening today.

“yeah, kats, ‘m good. just missed you, is all,” you breathe out and your boyfriend hums in reply and you thank your lucky stars that he’s sometimes a little naive when it came to you- lest he speedrun his own surprise.

bakugou looks at you, all soft and loving even though all you can see and feel are his red eyes piercing into you. he stuffs his phone into his pocket and pulls you into his wide chest, arms imprisoning you.

“shitty hair just texted me asking where we are. ‘m gonna tell him to fuck off.”

“don’t be mean to your friends,” you scold and bakugou rolls his eyes but he’s barely paying attention to what you’re saying. you try to ignore the fact he’s looking at you properly - drinking you in all angles.

“you gonna let me kiss you or just keep staring?” katsuki asks, eyes all half lidded and brooding. you shy away a little at his upfront neediness for you but you entertain him regardless. you bend down to plant a soft kiss on his mouth but that does little to satiate him.

“the fuck was that? you love torturing me, huh, princess,” katsuki groans and you smile at his expression: all frowny and so, so pretty.

“sorry, sorry, you’re right. just love teasing you,” you say, barely above a whisper and you give katsuki his first proper kiss since seeing him today. the kiss is heavy: all tongue and wet and warm and you grab onto his arms to ground yourself. meanwhile bakugou pulls you down so you’re right on top of him, so he can get a better grip on your ass and easier access to your mouth. you’ve got a leg over his hips and an arm hanging off his shoulder, completely attached. he’s got a large palm on your lower back, slowly drifting further and further to squish your ass.

it’s like this for a couple of minutes; your arms wrapped around his head and neck, his large palms groping at your ass and hips and bakugou’s mouth kissing on your tongue and lips. your leg rests on his waist and you swear you can feel the heat of his dick right then and there. it’s not like you can miss it, all heavy and imposing.

“fucking needed this, baby,” your boyfriend practically moans and a hand sneaks in your pyjama top and shorts and you moan loudly as he squeezes and grabs at you, your leg around his waist pulling him even closer. katsuki pulls back at the feeling of soft lace running across his fingertips and only then does it resonate that he can feel what you’re wearing. he looks at your face with a quizzical look and you want to hide from the sharpness of his eyes.

“what’s this ‘m feeling?” katsuki asks and you stuff your face in his neck as he smoothed his hands on your lace clad hips.

“just a little something i was gonna surprise you with…” you trail off and he sits up at this declaration.

“yeah? something f’me? you not gonna lemme see it?” he muses and your eyes widen. your boyfriend has always been pretty bold so you don’t know why you’re being so shy right now but you comply with his demands and sit up on his lap to pull off your shirt to reveal the brightly coloured brassiere.

bakugou’s breath hitches and his chest rises a little slowly when he sees the bra in it’s entirety. you look gorgeous, he thinks. all innocent and sexy at the same time. he doesn’t know whether he wants your legs on his shoulders so he can taste you until you’re begging him to stop… or whether he should just fold you in half and fuck you until pearly tears are falling down your cheeks.

he decides on complimenting you for the time being:“you look gorgeous, princess. fucking sexy… all f’me, yeah?”

“who else would it be for, dummy?” you say in a low, humorous tone and your hand travels up his chest to rest at his jaw, so you can give him a kiss to his ‘o’ shaped mouth. you slot yourself entirely at the weight of his bottoms and only then do you really feel what you’ve done to him. it’s your turn to make an ‘o’ shaped expression.

you lean down to kiss his lips again, sucking on his bottom lip before letting go with a pop, before smiling at him. katsuki grins back at you, leaning up on his elbows and nudging his nose against yours and you can smell his minty breath. you rest your hand over his stubbled cheek, brushing a hand over it as he slots his lips with yours. he takes his time with you, so much tongue as drinks everything you give him. katsuki lays back down to watch you and runs his hands over your hips, squeezing at your ass and all the parts he can get his hands on.

he decides he’s had enough of the petting and the touches because he groans and grabs at your waist so he can you flip you over.

bakugou presses hot and wet kisses and nips at your jaw and your neck - till he’s laying on his stomach to kiss at the top of your breasts. he’s fiddling with the underwire of the bra before he looks up at you with blown out pupils and a smirk to match.

“we were never going to that party, we’re we, baby?” he hums as he noisily kisses and sucks your collarbones and the fat of your breasts. you know he’s caught you out and trying to elicit a reaction but with the way he’s biting and kissing on you, you can’t find it in yourself to care.

“n-no…” you say, with a hint of a whine, “just wanted you to myself for once.” bakugou can feel himself throb at how much you want him and he climbs up to situate himself exactly above you, his arms caging around your head.

“such a fucking minx, you know that? who knew you had it in you, princess?” he says, looking directly into your eyes. you feel small under his gaze and try to cower away but his hand grabs at the chub of your cheeks.

“don’t get all shy on me now, baby. you knew exactly what you were doing,” katsuki trails off, now littering your neck with gentle bites and hot, wet breath that made your spine shudder and toes writhe.

“you’re not gonna embarrass me. it's gotten me this far, so not a bad deal,” you gasp, just shy of a whimper at your boyfriend’s ministrations. katsuki chuckles at this and sits on his haunches to have a good look at you.

“at least you did your research… y’know orange’s my favourite colour too. can i take this off, princess?” katsuki asks, his hands brushing over the thin straps of your bra. you sit up slightly and nod at him. however, he doesn’t seem content with that answer as he thumbs over your nipple through the bra and you gasp again.

“use your words, pretty girl. that don’t mean shit to me,” he breathes out and you want to fight him for forcing you to beg so explicitly.

“yes, yes please,” you practically cry out and bakugou fixes his hands to undo the clasp of your bra and your breasts spill out of the material. katsuki bites back a moan, his eyes half lidded at the sight of you. he feels like a teenage boy all over again - wanting to grope and bite and kiss at you. so he does exactly that.

discarding your bra, he leans down onto his stomach and goes to playfully bite down at your left nipple and you whine at him, placing a hand in his unruly hair. just as you’re about to scold him, he smoothes over his bites and sucks with wet and soft kisses over the skin. with his free hand, he travels down to your barely there shorts and slips into them, his fingers leaving a ghost of a touch against your pussy.

“can feel how wet you are and i’ve barely even touched you,” whispers bakugou and he kisses at your tits while watching your expression. to say you felt shy under his watchful eyes was understatement. but you still wanted so much more.

“katsuki… please,” you breathe out and he presses his fingers harder into your barely covered clit and you bite your lower lip to stop a squeak from leaving your throat.

“please, what, pretty? you look like you knew what you wanted when you dressed up all sexy f’me,” katsuki says mischievously and you want to slap and ride his face at the same time. you’ll save that for another day.

“please make me… cum,” you finally get out and bakugou kisses at your breasts one last time before descending into the lower half of your body.

“since you used your manners,” katsuki muses but you both knew he wouldn’t pass at the chance to get his mouth on you anyway, recalling back to your moments of interrupted intimacy (or cockblocking as katsuki would call it).

katsuki pulls down your fluffy pyjama shorts to reveal the orange panty ensemble and he bites his lip to hold back a whimper at the noticeable damp spot just at your cunt hole. he looks up at you, who’s clearly embarrassed by all the attention because you’re covering your face with your hands. he playfully bites down on your thigh and you yelp, looking right at his lust filled eyes.

“wan’ you looking at me when ‘m bout to eat you out,” murmurs your boyfriend and you force the heels of your feet dig into the plush of your bed so you don’t clench your thighs at his words.

bakugou continues with looking at your pussy and he can practically see your walls clenching from how turned you are and he feels impossibly harder at the thought of tasting you. he places a small, wet kiss on panty-covered clit and you tuck your bottom lip under your teeth.

katsuki continues to lave and give attention to your pussy by soft and wet kisses through the material and your whimpers were about to turn into complaints until he pulls the dampened material down your legs and stuffs it in his trouser pocket.

in any other given situation, you would have brought that up but katsuki launches himself between your legs and starts suckling at your clit and suddenly, whatever happened before has been forgotten. you cry out at the sudden attack on your pussy and the noises that come out of you are borderline pornographic.

“k-katsuki, fuck, that feels so g-good,” you stutter, whole body practically trembling.

“yeah?” your boyfriend chuckles, “you taste good, princess. can’t believe i went this long without having you on my face,” he grunts, alternating between kissing and sucking at your clit and your lips. when you thought it couldn’t get any better, he slowly presses two fingers into your hole and your head falls back into the pillows.

katsuki’s watching your reaction and he’s humping the bed for even a lick of friction; the way you taste and sound is too much for his senses. he can feel the tip of his dick leaking when you cry out his name and his eyes roll back when he feels you clench around him.

“o-oh, ‘m gonna come, kats, fuck, ‘s too much-”

“that’s it, baby. doing so well f’me, fuck. wan’ you to come all over my face. can you do that f’me?” asks bakugou while he alternates between stroking your inner walls and tongue-fucking you.

you nod, unable to answer and practically scream before your eyes begin to roll back, your toes begin to curl and the effects of your orgasm hit you like a truck. all you can see is white and you can’t even comprehend the noises coming out of you.

katsuki decides he is in love with the way you look when you come undone. he fucks you through your orgasm, lapping up everything that you give him and he only stops when your thighs begin to close up around his head and you make feeble attempts to push him away. not wanting to overwhelm you, he kisses your clit before sitting up and notes that he would stay between your legs some other day.

meanwhile, you’re catching your breath and your eyes are brim with a few unshed tears and katsuki chuckles breathily at you. you pout, “don’t laugh at me,” and he smiles in awe at your naked beauty. it’s only then when his eyes rake up and down your body that you realise he’s still completely clothed.

“starting to think you’re allergic to getting naked.. i’m feeling all exposed and left out,” your pout deepens and he stretches a hand to pinch at your nipple and you yelp and swat him away.

“relax, pretty girl, all you had to do was ask. ‘sides, not like i can fuck you in my clothes,” katsuki smirks and you roll your eyes and nibble your lips, impatiently awaiting to see your boyfriend in all his true glory.

bakugou pulls off his jumper and shirt in one go to reveal his tan chest and various miscellaneous tattoos, including one of your favourite flower right under his right pec. he then goes onto to pull down his joggers to reveal tight, grey briefs - and you hold your breath at the sight.

your mouth waters when you can see the length of his meat alongside his thigh and you can even see the damp patch on where the head of his mushroom-shaped tip is supposed to be. katsuki can see you checking him out and his chest puffs up a little at this.

“you look like you’re about to eat me, princess,” he jokes and you raise a brow.

when you’re about to bite back at him, you realise that you’re way too horny to waste anymore time and instead, you just nod seductively and open your arms so he can rest on top of you.

katsuki accepts and his arms rest by your head. he’s directly above you and only now does the sheer size of your boyfriend dawn on you. his whole body hulks over you and you’re unable to hold back a whimper that escapes when you realise just how hot this situation is.

“you still turned on? anythin’ i can do to help you?” katsuki snickers and you know he gets off on teasing you: he’s enjoying your helplessness and the fact that you’re so horny you’ve been rendered slightly brainless.

“stop teasing me,” you pout and katsuki leans down to kiss your pouty lips and he smiles, all warm at you even though he’s one clothing item away from rearranging your insides.

“sorry, princess. ‘s just fun to tease ya, is all. believe me when i say i wan’ this just as much as you do,” he grunts out and he sits up to finally rid of his briefs.

the wait is agonisingly long but when bakugou finally strips himself naked, your whole world stops.

your boyfriend is a hefty, adonis of a man so the size of his cock should’ve never surprised but no amount of mental physical preparation could have prepared you for the actual thing. it’s beautiful, veiny and thick - the length being tan with a vein that climbs all the way to the head of his cock: which sits at a dark pink, almost red colour, dribbling with precum. at the base of his cock sits a tuft of blond hair and your mouth basically waters.

katsuki’s dick twitches a little at your unwavering gaze and it’s his turn to feel a little embarrassed. you sit up and reach a hand out to thumb at his most prominent vein and a mixture of a groan and a whimper catches at the back of his throat. he feels like - he knows he could come just from looking at you as you brush against his cock.

it’s why he jumps to crowd over you on the bed and grabs your right thigh to sit at his waist.

“you think you’re ready? ‘m gonna ease into you slowly, ‘kay? promise you’ll tell me if it hurts,” he insists and you make sure to verbally reply, lest he waste time trying to get you to speak up.

“fuck, yes, ‘m ready, please put it in already,” you beg and katsuki wants to call you needy but the mushroom head of his cock brushes against your slick pussy lips and any smart reply he has locked and loaded in his head goes out his ear.

katsuki grabs his cock and brushes it on your clit, your lips and then circles your cunt hole and you’re clenching just at the feeling of him pressing down onto your most sensitive parts. you were half sure he was going to make you beg for it but before you could blink, he presses into you and your head would’ve hit the headboard had katsuki not place his hand behind you knowingly.

the feeling of him inside you is too much but not enough simultaneously and your hands grip at his forearms and you’re not sure on whether you want to push him away or bring him closer.

meanwhile, katsuki’s fighting his own mental battle: he curses himself for putting this off for too long and also prays that he doesn’t come before he at least gets yku off. you’re tighter, warmer, wetter than he anticipated and he can’t get enough of you. he’s not even watching himself feed his cock into your gooey hole, deathly afraid that if he looks down for at least one measly second, he would bust so deep into you, you’d be pregnant with triplets.

katsuki’s eyebrows are furrowed as he finally sheathes all the way into you and you rest a hand on his lower abdomen at a feeble attempt to push him away.

“i don’ think is’ gonna f-fit,” you slur, “‘m so full.” katsuki grabs your hand and lifts it above your head in a small, handholding embrace.

“don’t push me away,” he practically growls and he situates himself so he’s resting on top of you again, “you’re a big girl. if you wan’ me off of ya, you know to use ya words.”

you furrow your brows and look away from his dark eyed gaze and he chuckles, “that’s what i thought.”

katsuki pulls himself slightly out of your warmth, only to grind himself back in at an antagonising pace. he sets a speed and he lets go of your hand to properly rest on his forearms above you. you use this as an opportunity to wrap your arms around his back; your face scrunched and bottom lip tucked under your teeth.

you can feel katsuki’s pants above you and you finally open your eyes to see him and he’s probably never looked more sexy and eatable. his hair is sticking to his forehead and his eyebrows are furrowed so deeply that frown will probably be stuck for a while. katsuki angles himself just ever so slightly and you throw your head back in unabashed pleasure as he hits that sweet spot inside you.

“you like that, sweet girl? look at you.. fuck, all fucked out. wan’ you to tell me how good ‘m fucking you,” katsuki breathes out and you swear you’re not ignoring him on purpose because with the way his cock presses inside you and with the way his pubes brush against your clit, all you can muster is a broken moan (one that katsuki will definitely tease you about later).

“that’s how good ‘m fucking ya? can’t even - fuck, ha - can’t even speak, can ya?,” he says out loud and his words are coming in waves. katsuki reaches down to flick at your pearl and your legs seize up around him as you babble mindlessly to appease him.

“yess, feels so good, so deep, ‘can feel you so deep inside, kats - ohh, right there, pleaseee,” you warble and katsuki lifts your right leg to his shoulder to get impossibly deeper inside you.

“fuck, can’t believe i went so long without this sweet pussy,” he grunts out and the feeling of you cunt spasming around him hits at 100mph. you become sloppier, wetter and katsuki finds himself being able to fuck you right to the base of his cock. then it hits him: you just came.

“did y’ just fucking come already? jesus, fuck, haven’- haven’t even properly fucked you yet. so dirty, baby,” katsuki moans out and you can’t hear a word he’s saying. your nails dig in deeper to his shoulder blades and the soles of your feet press into his back as you’re still coming down from your high.

“d’ya think you can go again f’me, princess?” your boyfriend asks politely but the way he asks is anything but polite as he’s already folding both your legs to place them on his shoulder as you’re pushed and manhandled into a mating press.

katsuki still hasn’t pulled out and his cock is throbbing inside you and he wants to cum so fucking badly. but the unshed tears in your eyes made his heart beat a little faster than usual and he would never want to push you past your limits.

“you alright to continue, y/n?” he asks sternly, his expression slightly worried and you amass all the strength your body will allow to pull him down and you link your arms around his neck.

“so serious, katsuki,” you joke, still a little out of breath and he rolls his eyes and stares down at you lovingly while your thumb brushes against his cheek.

“make me cum so hard ‘m seeing stars,” you whisper and katsuki growls as he pulls out and sheathes himself deep into you while you cry out.

“you get what you wish for, princess.”

katsuki places his hands on the back of your thighs and goes crazy at you; desperate for both your releases. the sound of skin and the wetness of your pussy echos in your bedroom and accompanied with the your gasps and cries, the sounds of the room were past the point of being just pornographic.

you swore you’d have his hands imprinted on the back of your thighs with the way he was groping them and with this position, you could feel everything so much more. he was so deep inside you and you swore you could feel him in your stomach as you writhed under him as your third climax of the night crept on you. you were already so sensitive from the last two and you knew this was the one that was going to wreck you.

“‘m so-o close, fuck, it feels like ‘m gonna make a mess,” you gasp, moving to wrap your arms around katsuki’s neck. you could tell from his tightly wound facial expressions that he was not too far off.

“y-yeah? make a fucking mess on me princess, f-fuck, cum all over me an’ i’ll give you everything i’ve got, baby,” he grunts and he slides an arm down between you both to thumb at your swollen clit and you seize at the feeling.

“‘s too much, katsuki, too - oh-oh, ‘m gonna,” you cry o out and you grab your boyfriend’s face, “pl-please kiss me, please,” you beg, pearly tears streaming down your face and katsuki moans out.

“anything for you, pretty,” he rumbles and he slots his mouth over yours as your orgasm hits at you in waves. katsuki can feel sprays of your release hit on his pelvis and his eyes roll back.

“that’s it, pretty girl, make a fuckin’ - make a fuckin’ mess on me,” katsuki kisses into your tongue before coming deep inside you and moaning out loudly as you kiss him back to goad him through his orgasm.

you both ride out your climaxes and your boyfriend watches where you’re both connected and he pulls out, hissing while you whimper and he eventually collapses on top of you. you hold him close to your chest as you match his breathing pattern. the silence is comforting and you scratch at the nape of his head and he opens an eye while his face is pressed into your tummy.

“you okay?” you ask katsuki and he wraps his arms tighter around your body as response but you’re not satisfied with that.

“use your words, baby,” you tease and katsuki playfully digs his teeth into your belly and you make a feeble attempt to push him away.

“should be asking you that instead. fucking squirted all over me,” katsuki chuckles and you gasp, lifting up your hands to hide behind them in embarrassment.

“god, that’s so embarrassing, i can’t believe i did that,” you say, all muffled but katsuki pulls your hands from your face and kisses at your palm.

“was sexy, baby. want you to do that every time we fuck,” he mumbles, nosing little kisses onto your chest and tummy. your boyfriend looks adorable like this: all fucked out, exhausted and glowy and you’re holding back the urge to ‘awwh’ at him while you pet and rub his face with your thumb.

“and i want you to get off me so i can shower. ‘m all gross and sweaty and sticky,” you complain, albeit lightheartedly and when you make the attempt to get up, the blond jumps up like he was never tired.

“sit your ass down and let me run us a bath. and i’ll know if you moved,” katsuki warns, walking to your bathroom in his naked glory and you laugh and before he exits the room, he turns to pass you a quizzical glance.

“nothing, it’s just, your butt is so cute. i can’t believe i never noticed it before!”

“y/n, so help me god, i’ll throw your dumbass into the bathtub,” yells your hot headed man and you giggle at his ‘threat’, watching him try to hide his butt from you as you go to follow him to the bathroom, disobeying his every rule.

so when mina and the bakusquad anyone asks you about your first time, you tell them it was something you waited dearly for and you wouldn’t change for the world.

“uh, kats? why did kiri just text asking if we finally ‘fucked and got it over with?’”

so maybe it wasn’t spontaneous for your boyfriend either. but it’s like you said-

“i will kill that red headed bastard,” yells out katsuki, grabbing his phone and throwing you over his shoulder as you squeal.

you wouldn’t really change a thing.

#bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #self indulgence at its finest #this was proofread let’s clap and cheer!#bakugou smut #bakugo smut #bnha bakugo smut #bakugou imagine #bakugo x reader #༝˚૮ .♡ katsuki.#moominsuki™#✎𓂃stamped: (my hero academia)。°˖⌕#✎𓂃uma thirsts。°˖⌕

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bachiras-toaster · 7 months

Text

your rewards are so sweet : ̗̀➛

RANPO EDOGAWA x gn!reader

cw: suggestive but no explicit smut

wc: 1.6k

Ranpo sat idly at his personal desk in the Armed Detective Agency: A dimly lit office, his hands perked behind his head in a resting position, his legs on his desk, and a strawberry lollipop wedged in between his pouted lips. Underneath his feet were piles of documents he had yet to even look at, and it seemed like he had been procrastinating his duties for what was likely an hour now, just staring at the clock as the minutes went by.

He didn't even seem startled by the sound of footsteps approaching his office, despite having done literally nothing within the past sixty minutes. Scolding? Punishment? Ranpo had been through all of that before, and besides, he was already the greatest detective that the agency had to offer. What was the worst that could happen to him if he was caught slacking on the job?

"What is it you want? I'm busy." He groaned, knowing that he had done nothing but get lost in his own daydream the entire time. However, his demeanour changed when he caught wind of the voice that was on the other side of the barrier as the entrance to his office slowly tilted open.

"Oh, that's no way to treat your coworkers." You made her presence known to him, your voice low in a teasing tone.

Ranpo's heart leapt as soon as he heard your sweetness. How could he mistake that voice for anybody else? It was the voice of the coworker he was practically head over heels for, the one he would do anything to impress.

It was no mystery to the agency that Ranpo was hopelessly in love with you- It was no mystery to you either. In fact, it seemed like the only one who seemed to deny his infatuation was himself, disliking the fact that people could accuse him of being so devoted to another person's approval. Despite what he said though, it was abundantly clear that he was constantly at your feet, desperately waiting for just a shred of praise.

He quickly turned around, his lollipop dropping onto his desk accidentally as he was shocked by your sudden appearance, his face flushed with embarrassment.

"(Y/n)-San! I didn't even know you were here." He stammered, immediately going to wipe the drool that leaked from the corner of his lips when his lollipop hit the table, trying to seem as casual as possible but unfortunately failing miserably. He glanced down at the desk and swiftly picked up the treat, wrapping it in tissue before nonchalantly discarding it into the bin and standing up. "—What are you doing in my office? Are you investigating something?" He turned his attention towards you, still a little nervous. "You could have knocked first.."

"Had to make sure you were doing your work instead of slacking off." You hummed, making your way towards his workspace. It seemed like his eyes hadn't moved from you since you entered the room- Although, how could they? You seemed so serious and elegant in everything that you did, even walking seemed like an accomplishment of yours to him. "The President ordered me to make sure that you were working on the cases instead of just sitting at your desk and eating sweets like you always do."

"Just eating sweets?" He seemed offended, adjusting his cap before looking you in the face. "I am investigating all cases that come to me with complete seriousness, thank you very much." He huffed. "Sweets are important for a detective's health! Detectives must use their brain a lot, so they need a lot of energy. Besides, I am doing all of this work for the sake of catching criminals, for the sake of justice. Shouldn't I be rewarded for my hard work with sweets?" He asked you in a rhetorical sense, already reaching into his pocket to take out another unwrapped lollipop to replace that one that was just wasted.

"Rewards come after you get the job done." You proclaim with a faint smirk as you watched him carefully remove the wrapper from his candy. Just as he was about to take the second lollipop into his mouth, you swiped it from him and stuck it in your own, enjoying the delectable taste of raspberry-flavoured goodness. At the action, his face took on an expression of both offendedness and arousal at the sight of you stealing his candy and he wasn't sure whether he should address it. But as you sucked on the lollipop with such relish, his face flushed and he let down a gulp. Just the sight of you taking the candy from his mouth and putting it in your own filled him with emotions he never knew he could feel, as well as a range of private thoughts he had thought about every night.

You truly were one of a kind. He would do absolutely anything for you, and he'll do it willingly.

"Can you tell me what you've found out about the case at least?" You asked, your words muttering, the lollipop was stuffed between your teeth and cheek. He quickly adjusted himself and cleared his throat, tugging on his collar as he sighed, pointing at the documents.

"Of course... Well, I've already found out that we're dealing with a serial killer, probably a woman. According to the evidence we’ve collected, the culprit also suffers from some form of illness." Ranpo replied obediently and swiftly, as if he had known that information all along despite having just looked at the case for the first time since being assigned it.

You smiled at his immediate response and just chuckled, your index finger swirling around the stick of the lollipop. The first sentence he said came out casually, but when he caught a glance of your approving nod, Ranpo’s head immediately went down to skim through the document some more to desperately search for more leads and clues.

“…More specifically amnesia.” He continued. “Though, it’s quite clear that her loss of memory was not natural and it was forced from her by someone who’s powers probably has something to do with the mind.” He spoke fast, still trying to catch glances at you to see if you were still listening as he rambled on, pointing towards the documents. “The murders lead back to her, but she is not the villain. She was instead brainwashed into doing someone else’s dirty work for them so that they couldn’t be traced back to the crime… The only reason we haven’t found the culprit yet is because they’re already dead. Her latest mission was approximately one month ago.”

He turned the sheet of paper towards you and you scanned the collection of images and texts written down, continuing to swirl your tongue around the lollipop.

“All of the previous murders are relatively close together- Perhaps by two or three days. The absence of murder in such a long period of time is clearly an anomaly. But it’s only this way because I’ve concluded that her latest murder was killing the person who set her up to all this after she gained clarity over what she had done. This murder-slash-victim in question is Yori Hazaguchi: a meek, little office woman, who has probably already thought about turning herself in.”

As his last finger pointed towards the papers once more, he stood himself back up to his fullest height to proudly admire the case he had solved yet again. He then turned his head towards you to see if you agreed, and was met with the perfect sight of your smile just growing into a wider, proud grin.

"Ah, good. So it looks like you actually have been working. Fukuzawa was wrong to be so accusing. Maybe you’re deserving of rewards after all." You got up.

Removing the lollipop from your mouth, you strolled slowly over to stand right in front of him. You saw the way his chest tightened the closer that you got, and it fascinated you to see him so nervous in your presence. It wouldn't stop you in any capacity though. You kind of liked seeing him in such a way.

"Say 'ah'." You smiled, holding his chin with your thumb and beckoning him to open his mouth.

He looked at you while you stood in front of him, his eyes actually fully opened for once to welcome you with a love struck gaze- The pupils of a puppy. Your faces were so close to each other that he felt your sweet breathing mingling through the air, the aroma of the lollipop still being present in your breath. Your lips, your eyes, your hair: As he scanned these things and felt your thumb softly graze his chin, he pulled a weak smile. All of these aspects filled his mind and made him go weak.

"Ah..." He opened his mouth, awaiting for the reward.

As his jaw hung open, you shoved the lollipop that you had previously sucked on into his mouth, smiling as you watched him happily close his lips around the treat. He took a couple of glances at you, before stuffing the sweet between his teeth and cheek without a second thought, the stick hanging innocently from his lips- The fact that he could still taste your warm saliva on it was even better to him. The action made his heart go even faster and his brain rushed with memories of how you had licked on that candy... God, he felt so special.

These kinds of rewards were the best.

#bsd #bsd x reader #ranpo x reader #ranpo x reader smut #ranpo edogawa #ranpo edogawa x reader #ranpo edogawa x reader smut #bungo stray dogs #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs x you

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penny00dreadful · 1 year

Text

Part 1 Part 3

The F-slur is mentioned here but only mentioned, not used to attack or demean.

“I don’t have a wife. I have… I have a husband.”

Future-Eddie slapped him on the shoulder. “Hell yeah you do.”

“They legalise it? They-” Robin looked over at her future self, her eyes glossy. “W- they can get married?”

“Yeah.” Future-Robin squeezed Steve and Robin closer. “Yeah. They can get married. Just in a couple of places to start but then country-wide.”

Nancy nodded along as though this was all tactical information useful for defeating Vecna. “Is anyone else going to come through?”

Future-Eddie shrugged. “Not sure. I think Robin and I were zapped here because our past and future selves were in the same geographical location when there was a pulse. So, sorry to say, Nance, but you’re definitely not about to pop in.”

“Why? Where am I?”

“Still on a plane back from Alaska last I heard.”

“What on earth was I doing in Alaska?”

“Spy shit.” The two time travellers said in unison.

Nancy uncharacteristically stumbled in surprise. “Spy shit? Seriously?”

“Well, personally I believe you’re an international 007, Agent Wheeler, but most of the rest think it’s just plain old boring investigative journalism.” His future counterpart clearly hadn’t lost any theatricality with time.

In fact it seemed to have gotten worse as he waved his arms around. “You’re like, the top dog at it, dude. Literally so good at it that barely anyone knows your name which you definitely use to your advantage. You’re super cagey on details.

“But this time around, you were in Korea when shit hit the fan. Again, don’t know what you were doing there but I did hear Pyongyang mentioned once so you were only a jump away from Kamchatka when Ellie felt a disturbance in the force so you volunteered to go see if it was the Ruskies again, but no dice. Completely filled in with concrete. We have no idea how you got there so quickly but my money is on spy shit.”

Nancy stared at him open-mouthed as he spoke.

“So… So I do it? I make it? I succeed?”

“More than succeed.”

“And,” Nancy bit her lip, like she didn’t really want to ask the question but she was burning to know nonetheless. “The whole… marriage and kids thing?”

Future-Eddie glanced toward Steve, occupied by Future-Robin who was trying to distract him from the conversation and Eddie’s heart sank.

“Nance, don’t take this the wrong way but I don’t think you ever wanted that. I think you were told to want that, as a woman, but it was never you. You don’t have any kids, you’re not married and I don’t think you ever want to be.”

Nancy looked almost relieved at the information and Eddie was so confused.

He still had a thousand questions firing around his head so he decided to latch onto something mentioned earlier.

“Who’s Cassie?”

Future-Eddie smiled softly. “She’s my youngest.”

Eddie choked on thin air. “Kid?!”

“Yeah.”

“Your youngest kid is my age?”

“God, dude. Don’t remind me. You’ll make me feel so old.”

“You are old.”

His future self shoved his arm. “Watch it, whippersnapper.”

“Who’re your other kids?”

“Here, let me show you.” He pulled a slab of something out of his pocket before shaking his head and pulling his wallet out instead. “I think a phone would be a bit too much, so we’ll do the wallet.”

Eddie blinked. “Right.” Like he knew whatever the fuck the guy was on about.

Future-Eddie pulled some photos loose and in the pile Eddie caught sight of a hairy muscular thigh and a torso littered in old scars stretched obscenely out on a bed and dressed in black lace before the photo was swiftly snatched out of sight and Future-Eddie stuffed it down his pants.

“Woah, whoops! You don’t need to be seeing that!”

“Eddie!” Future-Robin called, staring at him wide eyed. “Oh my god, you keep that photo in your wallet?!”

“It was an anniversary gift!”

“He’s going to rip you a new asshole once he finds out.”

“God.” Future-Eddie breathed. “I hope so.”

Eddie knew his face must be lobster red. From what he had just seen of his future husband, he was hot, metal as shit with those scars and willing to do things like… that?! He’d hit the damn jackpot.

If only he’d seen his face.

“Moving on!” Future-Eddie called brightly. “My girls.” He held out a photo of three teenagers backstage at some kind of concert. It looked like they were laughing at something that had just happened behind the camera, their backs to the stage. They all looked wildly different from each other.

“They’re older now, obviously, but this photo… It’s my favourite. Rhea, Poppy and Cassie." He pointed at each of them respectively

The girl on the left looked to be the oldest, blonde and short with glasses, dressed in oversized flannels and baggy ripped jeans. Her mouth was wide open in what must have been a cackle, nearly bent double with one hand on her sister's shoulder, keeping her balance.

The girl in the middle was taller, her hair was dyed a dark purple colour with two piercings over her black painted lips, dressed in flowing black lace. She had both hands up as if she’d just been hiding behind them, her eyes wide and incredulous, seeming to only really let out a giggle.

The third was a similar height to the girl in the middle, black haired and freckled, dressed in bright pastel colours with a cast on her arm. She was half hiding her face behind her hair, turned towards her sisters but her smile was so wide her eyes all but disappeared.

They all looked so happy together.

Holy shit.

He only ever had Wayne and now… well, in the future he has a husband and three daughters (holyshitholyshitholyshit), he’d built a family.

“Pretty unbelievable, right?” Future-Eddie smiled across at him, warm and content.

“Just wait ‘till you find out what he does for work!” Future-Robin shouted at him from up ahead.

Work? Eddie had never had a job before and everything in his future seemed so perfect, maybe this was the downer. God he hoped it wasn’t some corporate bullshit.

“What do you do for work?”

Future-Eddie blushed which was very fucking odd and scratched at the back of his neck. “I’m retired.” He shrugged.

“Eddie. You’re not going to tell him?”

“How can I tell him? Look at him! He’s having the worst week of his life! He’s being hunted by a town full of evangelical nutjobs, you think he’ll believe me if I tell him I have two Grammys and a Tony?!”

“Okay, pause.” Eddie put his hand to his future self’s chest, stopping them both. “I’m gonna need you to run that by me again.”

Because no fuckin’ way, man.

Nuh-uh.

Not a chance it meant what he thought it meant.

Not him.

Not some little rat goblin from rural Indiana.

“Two Grammys.”

Future-Eddie nodded. “Two Grammys and a Tony.”

Eddie wrinkled his nose before scoffing. “Why a Tony?”

“It’s called branching out, dude. Don’t gatekeep, it’s not a good look.”

Future-Robin grimaced from up ahead. “Sorry, he’s sensitive.”

“Yes, I’m sensitive, Rob! Lloyd Webber can suck my dick!” He grumbled and muttered in a way that was clearly supposed to be an imitation, “Not built for writing a broadway musical my asshole.”

“So…”

“So.”

“You’re… we’re like, famous?”

Future-Eddie shrugged. “Yeah. Kinda.”

“With two Grammys.”

“We would have more if we didn’t get banned.” He muttered again, clearly not supposed to be overheard.

Eddie just stared. “Dude! How the hell do you get banned from the Grammys?”

Future-Robin faltered in her steps ahead, stuttering in the middle of her answer to Robin about her work as a translator in Geneva.

His future self started to walk again, trying to brush him off. “Uh… You know what? It’s a long story, I don’t think we should-”

Eddie caught up. “No, no. This is my potential future right? I should know, maybe I can avoid it?”

Future-Eddie raised his hand to his jaw again, almost unconsciously, like those words hit him on multiple levels.

“Some things can’t be avoided, I don’t think.” He sighed heavily. “Alright. I got outed. Publicly. It wasn’t pretty. And it wasn’t just me, my husband got outed too. We called a blackmailer's bluff and they followed through.”

Eddie shook his head, disbelieving. “They banned you because you got outed?”

“No… not exactly. Okay, listen. I was in a really dark place at the time and I was so, so angry and you know what we’re like when we’re angry. It was incredibly controversial at the time and still is, kinda. Like a black stain on the band's past but I wouldn’t take it back if I could, you understand me?

“When I wrote it I was feeling super toxic and bitter and I’m not excusing it because it was so personal but the younger generation have picked it up again and they’re seeing it like it was meant to be seen. Like it’s about having to hide and live in fear all the time and how stressful and unfair it is and-”

Eddie sped up his steps just a little so he could look at his future self. “What did you do?”

“I…” Future-Eddie twisted at his wedding band. “I released a song called ‘Faggot’ and it’s exactly as painful as you think.”

Eddie sucked in a breath through his teeth. “Oh.”

“Yeah. Listen, I don’t really know how this whole divergent paths thing will work, how much of my life you will or won’t experience after this. But everything I went through, everything, made me who I am today. It’s going to be really hard and it really fucking sucks sometimes. But it got me my girls. It got me my husband. I wouldn’t give it up for anything, you understand me?”

He looked back down at the ground, contemplating. Even though he’d just heard of some truly awful shit that might happen to him at some point, he couldn’t help agreeing with his future self. He had the girls. They seemed happy. He had a husband and he seemed truly content with him, even if Steve’s shadow was still overhanging. But he didn’t really know that for sure. He wanted to know about who he was married to, even if he didn’t want to know who.

“Tell me about him?”

Future-Eddie’s face split into a wide grin. “I thought you’d never ask. He’s the biggest fucking dork I know. The sweetest guy in the world, kindergarten teacher, little league coach… he sees everything. Self sacrificial streak a mile wide, giving me grey hairs.” He laughed.

“Sounds like a normie.”

“The normiest. It’s adorable.”

“Eddie!” Future-Robin called, waving him over from up ahead. “I need you, c’mere.”

“That’s sweet, baby. But it would never work between us.”

She rolled her eyes. “Jesus Christ, do you have an off switch?”

Future-Eddie’s grin turned feral. “I-”

“No!” She held up her hand. “Stop. Just come here, fucking hell.”

Eddie watched his own future counterpart practically skip over to the others, throwing his arms around both Robins and Nancy while his mind spun like a record without the needle down.

Fuckin’ time travel, man. What were the odds? But what were the odds of an alternate dimension and demon bats and demon dogs and just general demon fuckery?

And he was fucking married? What the shit. Like he’d pretty much resigned himself to short term secret shameful relationships or quick encounters in whatever club bathroom he ended up at in the city.

Some kind of life of settling down, with kids no less, was not something he’d ever dare believe…

“So.”

Eddie looked over. Steve was walking beside him, staying remarkably steady despite his wounds.

“So.”

He smiled at him but it was a little strained at the edges. “You have a husband.”

“I have a husband.”

And it was only really then that it hit him. Those words. Those words felt so… fantastic to say.

It wasn’t just the fact that he’d come out.

It was the fact that the words ‘I have a husband.’ meant that he had a husband. Someone who loved him unconditionally. Someone who stuck with his eccentricities and his trash panda tendencies. His parents were a terrible example for marriage and he knew, he knew that he would never allow himself to end up that way.

So this had to be it.

This had to be real.

“I don’t think I’d mind a husband.”

Eddie stopped dead.

Steve turned to look at him, a small smirk on his face. He strode two steps in front, continuing to walk backwards, keeping pace before placing a finger under Eddie’s chin and pushing his jaw back up. He hadn’t even realised it was hanging open.

“But… but you’re…”

"Yeah, I'm attracted to girls, I can hide if I want to and have an easy life. But boys are an option for me too. Don’t tell me you think I should play it safe because society tells me to. I thought you’d be better than that.” Steve slowed to keep pace with him again, knocking him with his shoulder and the barest hint of that smug smile on his face.

“Wh- I- I am. I am better than that. I’m sorry I just didn’t expect- you don’t-”

“I don’t look queer? Or act queer?”

“No! No, I didn’t mean…”

But he did mean that. He had thought that. And his shit had now been completely rocked because of it.

His jaw had fallen open again, he just realised. He snapped it closed and his mouth felt so fucking dry. “I think you’d make a good husband.”

“Are you asking?” Steve quirked an eyebrow at him and flashed his teeth with a grin.

Jesus H. Christ he was so pretty.

Fucking hell. Was this what it was like to be on the end of the Harrington charm? God, he was in so much trouble now.

And Steve was still grinning at him, like a cocky little bastard. “I don’t think anyone would want me as a husband anyway.”

“I’m sorry, I’m lost. Who the fuck would ever pass you up for a husband?”

Steve shrugged, a little more subdued than he was before. Eddie only barely caught the glance in Nancy’s direction.

“Wheeler’s loss.”

“No, I mean I get it. I have a lot of baggage and I feel like these bites aren’t going to just smoothe over. What happens then? What’s my spouse gonna do with me once I don’t have my looks anymore, you know?”

“Fuck your looks man, that’s not why people get married. That’s not why I’d get married.”

“It’s why my parents got married.”

“And you wanna have a marriage like theirs?”

“No! God, no. Never.”

“Exactly. So why do you think you’d allow yourself to get tied down to someone who only cares what you look like?”

“Maybe that’s the only reason they’d have me.” Steve grinned as if what he was saying was just fact. “Like I said, I’ve got baggage.”

Eddie shook his head. “We’ve all got baggage, man. I’m not trying to like, invalidate yours or whatever, but everyone has their shit. Yeah your shit is fucking intense, I mean look around, but that won’t matter to the right person. They might have their own. Might not be alternate dimension time travel shit but could be something similar. Maybe you’ll marry a veteran or a refugee. Or maybe you’ll marry someone who’s never experienced anything worse than a paper cut and when they stub their toe they only say ‘oh dear’. Relationships… marriage is a partnership, their baggage, your baggage, it’s there to be shared. It wouldn’t matter to me. I’ll take on my husbands shit and I’ll marry a man who’ll take on mine too. I know I will. I’m sure of it.”

Steve was staring at him like he had six heads.

Fantastic.

After he’d just spilled himself out of his mouth and everything.

But he wasn’t gonna back down.

It’s what he believed in his heart of hearts.

“I just-” Steve started. “I’ve never heard anyone describe it like that.”

“Like what?” To him, it just seemed like common sense.

“Like a partnership. You know like people always say relationships are commitment and dedication and selflessness.”

“Well yeah, they are but it has to go both ways. You can’t have one side putting in all that effort.”

“Partnership.” Steve muttered quietly, considering. “It has to be equal, right?”

“Yeah, now you’re getting it. It has to be equal.”

Steve’s smile was softer now, to go right along with his eyes. “You’re gonna make someone a really good husband one day, Eddie.”

Fuck, wasn’t that just a cupids arrow straight to the heart. And now Steve was looking at him all tender and it was driving him insane.

“You gotta at least cook me a nice dinner first before asking for my hand, there, Stevie.”

Steve shrugged. “Okay. What do you like?”

“Wha- I… What do I like?”

“What do you like to eat?”

Wait.

His mind was blank. He should really be able to improv his way out of this but his head was completely empty.

“Italian, I guess?”

Steve’s grin almost turned conspiratorial. He reached up and lightly tugged at one of Eddie’s curls. “Fuck, you’re perfect, aren’t you?”

“I’m on the run from the law at the moment, sweetheart.”

“Not for much longer if I have anything to say about it.”

They were interrupted by raised voices ahead of them. There was a brief moment of panic before he and Steve realised it was just the two time travellers bickering loudly as the trees started to thin and houses began to come into view.

“Well, why can’t we remember any of this then?” Future-Robin asked.

“Because it hasn’t happened to us in our past. It’s happening to us in our present. And their present. How can we remember something that hasn’t happened yet? Because it’s happening now. To four different people. Their timeline has already diverged from ours just by us turning up. This isn't our story anymore, it's theirs.”

She looked at him in disbelief. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

Future-Eddie waved his hand at her. “Wibbly-wobbly, timey-wimey.”

Future-Robin reached out and swatted him over the head. “You’re such a dork!”

“Hey!” He shoved her. “I only got into sci-fi because of you. Before you I was blissfully existing in a fantasy only realm.”

“Yeah.” She shoved him back. “You’re fucking welcome.”

They kept pushing and prodding at each other before it descended into chaos, devolving into some kind of childish slap war until eventually she had him in a headlock.

“Aaagh, Stevie! Help me!”

Steve just blinked at the two of them, probably trying to figure out how he was supposed to corral two adults who were nearly triple his age.

“So in the future, you and Robin seem to have some kind of… friendship?”

“Friendship?” Future-Eddie squawked. “No friendship here. She’s my soulmate by proxy. My sworn fuckin’ enemy.” From his bent over position he managed to grab her behind the knees and haul her over his shoulder.

“Barbarian!”

“Buckley, my tabletop wife, you know I’m a bard.”

“Would you two shut the fuck up?!” Nancy hissed. “You’re gonna get us eaten.”

Future-Robin was let back onto her feet, quietly.

“Sorry.”

It was objectively hilarious, watching two grown adults who could technically be their grandparents mutter their apologies as if they’d just been chastised by the school principal.

It was even funnier watching them punch each other in the arm as soon as Nancy’s back was turned.

“We’re here.” Nancy said, staring out at the houses. “C’mon.” Without a backwards glance, she took off running.

“Nan-!” Robin lowered her volume as they all chased after her. “Nancy!”

By the time Eddie and Steve had followed them through the front door, the rest of them were disappearing upstairs.

“Why didn’t you tell us this earlier?” Nancy was asking, holding what looked like a diary.

“Would you have believed us? You need to see evidence for yourself, you know that.” His future counterpart answered.

“What did I miss?” Eddie wheezed, placing his hands on his knees.

Fuck, he needed to give up smoking.

“It’s 1983.” Robin answered, patting his back.

“Is this more time-travel fuckery?”

“No.”

“Yes.”

Future Eddie and Robin spoke at the same time.

“The Upside-Down is stuck in 1983. The day Will Byers went missing.” Nancy clarified.

“Right. Okay. 1983. Cool.” Eddie gave a thumbs up, leaning heavily against the doorframe. He glanced around. “Hey, where’s-”

He was abruptly cut off as the entire house around them shook, sending him tumbling back into the hallway. The sounds of photo frames and Nancy’s knick knacks crashing to the ground surrounded him but underneath it all his blood ran cold when he heard a pained shout from downstairs.

“Steve?!” He called out, panicked, trying to get to his feet but being defeated by his own severe lack of athleticism and the incessant shaking of the very earth beneath him.

He crawled towards the stairs, thankful that the shaking had stopped by the time he reached the first step.

He flew down them, nearly landing square on his ass again before catching sight of Steve, leaning heavily up against the wall and clutching his sides.

“Steve! Are you okay?” There were red patches starting to bloom under the makeshift bandages around his waist and he hissed in pain, as Eddie took hold of his arms, pressing his forehead into Eddie’s shoulder.

“I just… I just need a minute.”

There was the sound of something ripping beside him.

“Shit. Things move fast in this timeline, don’t they?”

Eddie turned his head and froze, staring wide eyed at the third figure standing next to them.

Part 1 Part 3

I'm thinking one more part for this auspicious anniversary/time travel fic. I'll update the posts with links and the AO3 link too.

Thanks everyone for your sweet comments and tag requests! Makes me feel all warm and fuzzy on the inside. 🖤

Tags: @epiclazersharkshark, @estrellami-1, @swimmingbirdrunningrock, @addelyin

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sequencefairy · 8 days

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Ya know, I was gonna be done. I spent hours yesterday talking friends off ledges when people were harassing them for being excited about the watcher announcement, or when their anxiety ballooned while watching the never-ending fucking tide of absolutely entitled morons kept piling on and on and on and spreading baseless bullshit every where.

But like, I cannot be done.

Because I am just so fucking disappointed. I'm so fucking sad to be sitting here watching people writhe with glee over the reactions to the announcement, and fill their little vengeful mugs in anticipation of watching the fall of a fledgling independent media company they are literally standing around lighting matches to throw onto the pyre.

Y'all make me sick.

You profess to love these guys, to want to see them succeed, to enjoy the stuff they make for you. You beg and demand and scream for more time with Ryan and Shane and bitch constantly during periods of the year when it's not Ghost Files or Puppet History time. You complain to anyone who will listen about how this is a betrayal, as if they're your fuckin' friends who you know personally.

News flash, they're not. They never were. You're parasocially attached to the plush puppet and the guy who sticks his hand up it in a way that is detrimental to your critical thinking skills and you know what? Fucking don't subscribe to the streamer. Who fucking wants you around anyway?

I would bet American cash money that none of you have EVER had to sit with your staff in a meeting and figure out how you were going to keep your company afloat. That none of you have ever had to decide to take a risk like this, in this kind of economic climate and be cautiously excited about what it might mean for you and then to have this absolute viciousness being the response.

I'm really sorry that for some people the price is just out of their reach. I completely understand wanting to join in on something and being unable to because of the money. The amount of times I've had to say no to doing something fun because I just didn't have the cash is not a small amount. It sucks. It really sucks.

But you know, the emotionally mature response to not being able to afford something is to be like, well is there a way that I can save up for this? Something else I can cut out? And if the answer is no, then, unfortunately, sometimes, you just have to be left out. This is a fact of life.

Do you people also get bitchy with artists who charge commission prices that mean they can afford to live?

The comparisons of Watcher to non-network television streamers are laughable. Like, Watcher is absolutely not on the same level of operating profitability as other streaming services. They are an independent production studio that gives a shit about making content that they like to make and taking care of their employees and the other people who are associated with them. And in order for them to continue to make the stuff we like (Ghost Files, Puppet History, et al), we're gonna have to buy-in.

Seeing people say with their full chests that they should just fire people? Are you fucking hearing yourselves? Who should they fire? Their queer employees? The people who write and do sound and edit? The people who make Ghost Files or Puppet History look the way it looks? The people who are the reason the shows work?

And, I'm sorry, but if you think that the solution here is that they should just ... make worse shows, I don't even know what to say to you at all. Sorry that Steven and Ryan and Shane wanna do more than lifeless unsolved copies for the rest of their lives. Go watch fucking unsolved if you want that, watcher has always wanted to do more, do better, make bigger things. And you know what? They are for sure allowed to do that.

I am also utterly enraged by the racism. I cannot even imagine what it's like to be any Watcher employee of colour today, watching the hate and the cruelty roll in. Y'all are just fucking mean, and gross, and I hope you all walk on legos in the dark in bare feet.

Everyone who is acting like this is some fucking personal betrayal needs to go smoke a bowl or do a bong rip and chill the fuck out.

#things jess says #i did not sleep for shit last night #i am exhausted #i am sad #i am disappointed #i am enraged by the racism #by the way that people are out here being their worst selves over six fucking dollars #over some videos they feel entitled to because they were once accessible for free #breaking news but shit costs money #i'm sorry you live in a fantasy land where it doesn't #it must be really nice

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froggibus · 1 year

Text

I Got You - Jujutsu Kaisen

Includes: Megumi Fushiguro, Satoru Gojo, Yuji Itadori, Toge Inumaki, Toji Fushiguro, Ryomen Sukuna

Genre: angst? fluff

Summary: a scenario in which your fave boy saves you + the aftermath

CW: VIOLENCE, blood, falling, bullying, harassment, hurt/comfort, more stupid jokes?

i am so down bad for xiao from Genshin rn so if anyone has any good xiao fics pls send them my way! fanart too! anyway this has been in my drafts for a while but just finished it tonight cause why not

also I guarantee no one can guess my favorite JJK character

————

Megumi Fushiguro:

yuji, fushiguro and you were sent to exorcise a grade 1

nobara was sick with the flu but she was supposed to be there too

it was supposed to be an easy fight

when you got there, it turned out to be a special grade that took hostages

you focused on trying to get the hostages out while fushiguro and Itadori distracted it

it catches on to the plan and knocks yuji away when he goes to hit it

then it goes after you

yuji gets up but not in time

fushiguro tries to divert it with his shikigami but it doesn’t work

it hits you out the window

you start falling and have no time to brace yourself before hitting the ground

you’re going to hit the pavement and become a y/n pancake

fushiguro watches the whole thing in horror

he’s NOT going to lose you like this

he tries to think of what he can do to save you and it hits him like a pile of bricks

a giant bird catches you

it takes you a minute to realize that it’s Nue but when you do, you almost cry from relief

yuji and fushiguro finished exorcising the curse when you got back

you literally run to fushiguro and kiss him

he’s surprised but he holds you and makes sure you’re okay

is SO relieved when you only have a few minor scrapes and bruises and no big injuries

expect him to be GLUED to your side after too

he’s not one for PDA but he’s holding your hand, hand on your waist etc.

let’s you rest on him during the ride back to jujutsu tech

probably plays with your hair/hands the whole drive too

Satoru Gojo

saves you on a mission when your Grade 1 turned out to be 2 special grades

as a semi Grade 1 sorcerer you’re used to taking out Grade 1s and even some special grades on your own

so when you got an assignment to take out a Grade 1 you really weren’t worried about it

Gojo was though

he kept saying something feels off and not elaborating

You shake him off cause let’s be real, it’s Gojo, and you go anyway

of course when you get there and take out the Grade 1 almost instantly just to realize you still feel a strong presence of cursed energy, you realize he was right

queue 2 special grades coming out of nowhere and attacking you

it’s all you can do to defend yourself and try to run away but they’re working together and keep blocking your path

you’re thoroughly unsurprised when Gojo drops from the fucking sky

“what do we have here?”

he has his blindfold off and his eyes are glowing

you laugh somewhat cause you know they are FUCKED

he takes his time with them too

when it’s done and over with he’s trying to act all nonchalant and “I told you so” about it but you can tell he was worried

“see? you should’ve just listened to me”

“really? you’re choosing now to be cocky?”

definitely makes you ‘repay’ him somehow (read: he is just EXTRA clingy and uses it as a reason to kiss you tons)

Yuji Itadori

you’re heading to a cafe one morning to get drinks and snacks for the first years

it’s a nice day so you just end up walking there

you didn’t think about the fact that regular school was about to start either tho

and as you’re walking to the cafe you see some familiar people up ahead

people you knew before Jujutsu Tech

you decide to just ignore them cause you don’t think they’ll remember or recognize you after all this time

unfortunately they do

one of them sticks out their leg to trip you and when you fall they all laugh

you scramble backwards and try to get up but realize you dropped your wallet

“w-what do you even want from me”

“c’mon y/n, is that any way to greet an old friend?”

you get a weird feeling in the pit of your stomach

“it doesn’t really seem like you guys are friends.”

your heart FLUTTERS

yuji is standing behind the group of assholes and he looks ANGRY

so angry you almost thought it was Sukuna for a second

“who are you—“

“don’t you know? that’s the tiger of west junior high!!”

the fear on their faces alone is enough to make you feel better

they literally RUN away

Yuji helps you off of the ground and gathers your stuff

“y/n are you okay?”

you nod and swallow hard

he checks you head to toe for injuries and when he’s certain you’re fine pulls you in for a big hug

like mans is CRUSHING your ribs

he’s back to his sunshiney self tho

“thank you for protecting me, yuji.”

he kisses your forehead and he’s BLUSHING like crazy

Toge Inumaki

there’s a big meeting for sorcerers at the Tokyo school

like pretty much everyone is there

so class is cancelled for the day

you and the other second years are just sitting on the bleachers making fun of some of the weirder looking sorcerers

you’re sitting with inumaki who chimes in with the occasionally “tuna” or “salmon roe”

until you hear someone causing a scene over Yuji

yelling about the vessel and a bunch of other weird shit

you’re on your feet in no time ready to go defend the poor first year

you don’t even think about any danger until you’re getting up in the man’s face and telling him to backup

the man is getting aggressive though and Yuji starts telling you to back off

but the man tells Yuji he’s better off dead and you SNAP

you start yelling at him

until he starts to use his cursed technique on you

you realize too late what’s happening and have no time to get out of the way

“don’t move!”

it’s been so long since you’ve heard Inumaki say anything other than fish ball ingredients that you’re stunned

the man freezes in place, trying to move but to no avail

Inumaki steps in front of you protectively and narrows his eyes at the man who tried to attack you

“leave. don’t come near them again.”

the man obeys (like he had any choice)

Inumaki looks at you seriously and grabs your hands

“tuna tuna”

“i know i know…i didn’t think I just ran in”

“bonito flakes”

you kiss his nose and thank him for saving you

Toji Fushiguro

being real he would probably not let ANYONE lay their hands on you

at least not anyone with ill intentions

but let’s be real toji is possessive as fuck

anyway you’re on a walk one morning when a curse ambushes you

you don’t practice Jujutsu but you have cursed energy and know what they are from Toji

you try to evaluate what’s going on and wonder if you can fight it

but you shake the thought away and settle on running

which is fine until the curse RIPS the ground from under you and sends you flying

you land on a wall and decide to just not get up again

you’re ready to accept death when your giant boyfriend is suddenly there

he has a sword and makes quick work of the curse before coming to your aid

“fuck doll, it really did a number on you, huh?”

you just nod weakly and let him pick you up

he carried you home and takes care of your injuries and you can tell by the shaking of his hands that he’s mad

not at you duh

but at the thought that a curse HURT you

that it even THOUGHT it could touch HIS y/n

expect a lot of affection from him

and probably some rough but sweet ‘you’re mine ill never let anything hurt you’ sex

Ryomen Sukuna

you and Yuji somehow get stuck fighting a special grade alone

and neither of you are doing so hot

at least Yuji is somewhat OP

you’re just y/n and you’re STRUGGLING

which only gets worse when the special grade pierces straight through your stomach

there’s a hole at least three inches wide

Yuji just watches in horror

Sukuna doesn’t freeze, though

he knows humans are fragile and you can’t stand too much blood loss

“enchain”

him and Yuji switch before anyone could process what was going on

instantly vaporizes the special grade and runs to your side

using reversed cursed energy really isn’t that big of a deal to him though

heals you like it’s nothing

“you’re fine, brat.”

you pass out

but when you wake up you’re back in your dorm, Yuji sitting on the end of your bed

no, not Yuji

Sukuna is sitting on the end of your bed, staring straight at you

“i-i’m alive?”

“yes, and i still haven’t heard a thank you.”

“thank you for saving me.”

acts all humble and nonchalant about it but you notice he’s a little more clingy

and WAY more protective of you

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endmeprettyplease · 1 year

Text

Best Behavior

A/N: I played COD as a kid, I never thought it’d have me whipped as an adult, but here I am. I hated this, then I liked it, so just posting while sleep deprived before I change my mind. Also Price is daddy, just a fact.

John Price x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Daddy kink, oral sex, p in v sex, power imbalance, implied age gap, rough sex, no y/n, no codename for reader

Summary: After a stressful mission you take a risk to comfort your Captain.

The conclusion of a mission had a few probable outcomes. An overtly successful endeavor would have you, and the rest of the 141 at the closest bar or pub. An absolute failure with injuries? Then you’d all be squirreled away in your own quarters or infirmary, licking your literal and metaphorical wounds. But when they ended like this? The job completed, yet so many lives lost? It was just empty. The team shared the feeling, you were sure, given the atmosphere on the trip back. Even now, with Soap pouring shots and Gaz poking fun at Ghost, you knew they felt it. It was why they were still here and not at the dive twenty minutes down the road.

You could hear the conversation down the hall before you had even reached the common room. Normally you’d have been happy to join in on the distraction, but you had another in mind. Whether or not the mission had technically been successful, it hadn’t felt like it. Not with seven hostages dead and a bomb that leveled three city blocks. You inhaled, slowly, letting the thought pass with your breath. It didn’t matter now, what mattered was your next mission. One that would be quietly stewing a few doors down.

“There ya are, c’mon we need someone to settle the score!” Soap called as you passed the doorway. Waving you into the shared space as Kyle smiled in agreement. Fighting the urge to join you reminded yourself of exactly what you had planned.

“Sorry, not tonight, boys. Dropping off my report, then I’m passing out.” Waving the papers in your hand.

Gaz rolled his eyes. “You can take one night off being an overachiever, you know? Cap said we could turn them in tomorrow.”

“And yet I’ll have the day off, and you'll have homework.” Smirking, you bid them a goodnight and continued down the hall.

Butterflies fluttered in your stomach. It was risky, you knew. Your relationship with Price was complicated, to put it lightly. He was your Captain, your superior, your mentor. Even a whiff of this and Laswell would probably have your heads. Neither of you have been so bold, rarely going further than lingering touches and gazes while on base. You’d both been as diligent as possible in separating work from your private lives. The weight of what you were about to do sat heavily on your shoulders. And yet you still stood at the captain’s office door.

He needs this. You reasoned. The look in his eyes as you’d stepped off the plane hadn’t escaped your notice, nor the way he’d immediately fled to his office. No one on the force took failure as hard as he did. It was his team, his responsibility. He needs this. You repeated, lifting your hand to knock before you could talk yourself out of it.

It took a few moments longer than usual to hear his gruff response. “Who is it?” Feeling sweat bead on your back you let out a shuddering breath before answering.

“It’s me,” Nearly immediately Price gave you the go ahead to enter.

His office was messier than it normally was, maps pinned to the walls, little notes tacked up with them. Mugs piled high and the lingering fog of his cigar smoke hanging in the air. Yeah, he needs this.

“How can I help you, Sergeant?” Pice had his noise in a file, a glass of whiskey wrapped in his hand. You hoped he didn’t notice the blush his rough voice caused to rise in your cheeks. You also hoped he didn’t notice the click of the lock as you pressed the door closed with your back.

“I just wanted to drop off my field report for today, sir.” You spoke slowly, taking careful steps toward his desk. Suddenly, a little less confident in how successful your mission would be. John looked awful, hat tossed somewhere, hair still sticky with sweat stuck up randomly, bags under his eyes adding years to his age. He looked in absolutely no mood for your shenanigans, but that's exactly why you were doing this.

His lip lifted a bit under his facial hair, “Thought I told you that could wait til tomorrow, to get some sleep.” Eyes lazily rolling up from the papers in his, whatever horrors reflected with them passed to curiosity as he took you in. You stood stiffly at his desk, knuckles white as you gripped your report.

“You did, Captain.” He was onto you, you knew immediately. You never were good at getting anything past him. Not that it was really part of your plan.

“Set it wherever then. Anything else?” Price asked, eyebrow raising as you carefully moved closer. Swiveling his chair he followed your steps around the desk.

“Ah, yes, sir. I also wanted to see how you were.” Your voice shook, tossing the papers onto the pile on his desk. Finally working up the courage to meet his gaze. He looked a bit more intrigued. The reassurance fueling your confidence for the next step.

“I’m fine, soldier. Like i said-” The way his voice had lowered was the last straw. Dropping to your knees not even a foot from him. Gently, like approaching a startled animal, you rested your hands on his shins.

“Are you sure, Captain?” Your head already felt fuzzy, being this close to him always did this to you, further exacerbated by the absolute taboo of the situation. Off duty it was easy to pretend he was just a lover. Someone you’d met on an app, or at a bookstore or even the grocery store maybe. But here? Kneeling in front of him, still splattered with dirt, oil and blood, he was your Captain.

You watched Price process what he was seeing, throat working and pupils dilating. Eventually his nose twitched with the threat of a snarl. “You can’t do this to me, baby.” His words sounded forced, slow and strangled. Sounding nearly as desperate as you felt.

Slowly you traced your hands up his legs, past his knees to his thighs, squeezing firmly. “If you tell me to go, sir, I’ll go.” You shuffled forward, finally meeting his boots. “If not… I want to take care of you, Daddy.”

The ‘D’ word was a cheap shot, but when you watched John’s head drop back you knew you’d won. Adding a ‘please’, to really dig your grave.

Price picked up his glass, taking a long slow drink, looking anywhere but you. You could feel the tension vibrating through the muscle of his thighs, tense and strung high. Always so quick to tell his team to rest and relax, though never taking his own advice.

When he met your gaze again his eyes were filled with a familiar heat. “Is that right, sweetheart?”

Nodding eagerly you massaged his thighs, ignoring his already growing bulge. “Uh-huh”

Price tisked, relaxing back into his chair. “Here? That's a dangerous game.”

“I’ll be quiet, promise.” You breathed, eyes solely focused on your prize.

John huffed, rolling his shoulders. “You? Quiet?” He raised his free hand to your flushed face, gently caressing the heated skin. “You come in here, beggin’ for my cock like a whore, and expect me to believe you’re planning on behavin’?” He laughed, a genuine smile cracking his exhausted exterior.

The drawl of his words sank down though your chest, pooling in your sex. You had been so focused on him you hadn’t realized how desperate you’d already become. Shifting you let out a sharp breath, kneeling had pulled your pants taunt. The seam pressing torturously against your clit.

Price groaned, yanking you up into a kiss before you could process his movement. Messy and desperate. Moaning in return at his taste, whiskey, expensive cigars and home. When was the last time you’d had him like this? A month, maybe more, this assignment had been so taxing, time barely seemed to matter. Though, your body seemed to disagree. Lighting up with the familiar attention, begging for more.

Your hand twitched, intending to reach for him before you remind yourself. When you came here it was for him, you needed to behave. Take only as much as he was willing to give.

Price pulled back, lips wet and swollen already, face reddened under his beard, it seemed he’d shared your thoughts. Relaxing back into the chair he let his legs spread wider. “What’s it you said?” He grunted. “That you wanted to ‘take care of me’? C’mon then, take care of daddy.”

You breathed a quick ‘yes, sir’, settling between his spread thighs. Drowning in his musk before you'd even unclipped his belt. Blood, sweat, nicotine, gun metal - a cologne so uniquely his. Something you rarely got to enjoy at this intensity. He was hard and ready, a hot brand against your hand through his boxer briefs. Not realizing how lost in him you were until Price wrapped a rough hand in your hair. Shoving your cheek against him, rubbing himself against your face.

“Don’t tease.” He hissed, a tone you’d heard more than once on the battlefield, but never in the bedroom. Jolting, you quickly freed him. Mouth watering at the weight and sight of his cock in hand, thinking of how sore your jaw would be in the morning from his girth. How you’d get a sick thrill every time you spoke to the team. None aware that your Captain was the reason you’d keep rubbing your cheek to soothe the ache.

True to his order, you didn't tease. Spitting and letting it drip down his head, slicking your hand and working up and down his length. The moment your tongue met his tip he snarled, the noise echoing through the room. He let you start at your own pace, allowing you to swirl your tongue around the head. Working more and into your mouth, hand stroking what you couldn’t reach yet.

Being on your knees for your superior, for him, in his office, had been on your mind since you’d met. Since he’d first approached you with the offer of a position on his task force. A sharp tug on your hair pulled your eyes to his face. Any anguish, stress, and worry were gone. His brows furrowed with pleasure, fist to his lips as he rocked up into your mouth. You throbbed at the scene, moan vibrating his cock.

You pulled off, much to his despair. Fighting a smirk you move your hands to grip the pockets of his cargo pants, “Please fuck my mouth, daddy,” Giving your best puppy eyes while you took him back in.

His hands were in your hair in a flash, shoving himself into your throat. Releasing a sound so low and guttural as he started a brutal pace. Gagging was inevitable, as hard as you tried to breathe, his speed and ruthlessness unfamiliar. But very, very welcomed. Price moaned every time your throat constricted around him. Never taking his eyes off your face.

“T-that's it. Take it for daddy. Fuck, such a slut, baby. Look at you… my girl. God, doing so good for me, sweetheart.”

You felt your eyes roll, head hazy from the lack of oxygen and absolutely intoxicated by him. Price’s praise was the most valuable commodity. Whether on the field, handing in paperwork, during training, but most importantly in bed. You didn’t care if everyone murmured about you being a kiss ass, as long as he kept feeding you those sugary words. Kept making you feel like this.

When he’d finally pulled free, you were gasping and heaving for air. Dizzily you looked up at him, watching him pant nearly as hard as you. “Daddy?” Your voice was raw and foreign even to you. John’s eyes rolled back as he groaned, roughly pulling you up. Sloppily kissing you, uncaring of the shared fluids dripping down your chin.

“I need to cum in you, off!” He snapped, yanking at your sweats until you’d kicked them away.

You’d never seen him so… needy. It was addicting, you knew this would not be the last time you would come to him after a mission. Not if it was like this.

On his lap you felt how truly soaked your panties are, sticking to your skin as he ground you against his cock. You needed him so badly, tears stinging at your eyes. “P-please, John- daddy!” Quickly correcting your mistake when his hand landed on your ass with a harsh crack.

With little effort your panties were torn, gripped in his fist and shoved in your mouth. Your own taste invading your sensitive mouth as you bit down on the fabric.

“Quiet, remember? The boys are a couple doors down.” Price huffed. The swollen head of his cock finally met your sex, slicking himself with you. “Hell, I’d be surprised if they haven’t already heard ya,” You whimpered at the thought. It’d taken so long to prove yourself, what would they think?

Suddenly every doubt you had vanished, your Captain’s thick length stretched you. Lifting you so your nearly limp weight would spear you open. You’d never taken him without some preparation, even dripping wet the stretch was almost unbearable. Barely able to hear his soothing coos past the blood rushing in your ears. The fabric on your tongue doing little to muffle your noises.

Price, still the caring man he always is, gives you a moment to adjust. Kissing the tears from your cheeks, a sting of ‘good girl’s falling from his lips. You relaxed easily, you trusted him, knew he’d only give what you could take. Push you to your limit, but never past.

With no other warning than him planting his feet he picked you up and dropped you, slamming back down on his cock. You wailed, clawing at his t-shirt as he used you as he pleased. You couldn’t fight the noises clawing up your throat even if you had the sentience to want to. It was everything, so much, overwhelming waves of painful pleasure pulling you under.

“I bet you’d love it if they - ah - heard ya, huh sweetheart?” Price moaned when you clenched around him, grinding up into you as his belt buckle ruthlessly abused your clit. “They talk, I’ve heard. Wonderin’ how you’d… fuck - sound on their cocks. But it’ll never be them,”

You shook your head rapidly, clinging to him for dear life as your release built. You wanted to tell him that they’d never have the chance, that it was only him. But it was intelligible past the gag. So instead you pressed your forehead to his, noses bumping against each other with his violent thrusts.

“S-such a good girl, just for daddy, yeah?”

Every word he uttered hit you deep in your gut, where his head abused your sweet spot. Spots dancing in your vision you knew you were agonizingly close. Sobbing past the gag you tried to warn him, but Price knew. He always did. Slouching back he rutted into you fervently, thumb finding your tender clit.

“Go ahead, cum. Make a mess on daddy’s cock.” His voice and one more swipe of his thumb had you hurtling into bliss. Unaware of the cries you let out, cunt constricting his cock almost painfully. Milking him for his release a few beats later.

Shakily, you pulled your ruined panties from your mouth. Enjoying the afterglow, the Captain still twitching inside you, nuzzling into your throat. You were unable to keep the silly smile off your face, high off endorphins. Your face felt raw from his beard, body sore in the best way.

“Feeling better, Daddy?” Your voice was hoarse, it hurt to speak, but it was so worth it for the chuckle that bubbled from his chest.

“What the hell did I do to deserve an angel like you?” Price pulled back, looking at you so reverently you had to fight to hold his gaze.

Blushing again you remembered exactly where you were. “Do you think they heard us?”

Price snorted, refilling his glass before bringing it to your lips. Encouraging you to take a sip. “Honestly? Probably. Don’t worry about it, not now.” You savored the burn and warmth it brought you, grounding you in the moment. “We can take the roundabout way to my room, shower, and sleep. Anything else? We’ll handle it in the morning.”

His words were resolute, law, no room for argument. Not that you had the energy to argue now that the adrenaline had worn off.

Pulling you in close he pressed a kiss to your forehead, “Right now, I want to take care of my girl.”

#john price #john price x reader #john price x you #captain price x reader #captain price #he cares so much #reader insert #call of duty x reader

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sjhhemmings · 5 months

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“Chief’s Daughter”

brian zvonecek x fem!reader

a/n: i got this idea from @winchesterszvonecek after reading trouble so i hope they aren’t too similar, you’re an inspiration 😘

warnings: mentions of sex, brian on blast lmfaoo, that should be it! enjoy 🤌🏻🤌🏻

me after writing this imagine ⬇️ i’m absolutely laughing my ass off rn

“Anyone got any plans after shift? Cruz asks out to the rest of truck 81 sitting at the common table, “Oh and uno.” he added once he placed down a yellow draw two.

“Uh yeah, I’m meeting my girlfriend’s parents…” Otis replied while playing another draw two causing the next person to have to draw four. According to house rules anyway.

“Oh-ho-ho, meeting the in-laws. How long has this one been brewing?” Herrmann asked causing Otis to blush.

“About 4 months, we’ve been taking our time, nice and slow.” Otis lets out a soft chuckle leaving the rest up to their imagination.

“Really? You think it’s gonna last long?” Cruz asks in an irritated tone since he ended up having to draw 12 because everyone else around the table so conveniently had another draw two.

“Hope so. I really like her. Depending on how much of a hard ass her dad actually turns out to be I might even love her,” He laughs as he says it but he knows he’s already in love with you.

“Is the sex good?” Cruz asks and the whole table gives him a look. “What!? it’s a fair question and you don’t gossip to me about your love life anymore mister ‘i have a girlfriend and i need to spend time with her blah blah blah…’”

Once he finishes his rant that was for sure out of jealousy, (in a sense that Otis’ gf spends more time with him than joe does, not the fact that he doesn’t have a gf). Everyone expectantly looks at Otis.

“Well, I don’t want to brag, but it’s really good.” Is all Brian says and the guys are still giving him the same look.

“Details buddy let’s go,” Cruz says borderline actually annoyed.

“What else am I supposed to say? It’s good, it’s hot, it’s sexy. She’s the women of my dreams! She’s definitely not quiet, ‘Oh Brian, oh Brian!” He says in explicit detail mimicking your sex noises.

“What are we talking about here?” Chief Boden says as he was eavesdropping for the last 30 seconds.

“Oh, Otis is telling us about how hot the sex is with his new girlfriend!” Cruz shares a little too eagerly earning an unamused eyebrow raise from the Chief.

Otis then slapped Cruz in the chest now embarrassed of his friend.

“Well, go on, let me in on this ‘bro’ talk.” Boden says encouraging Brian to share.

“I mean I don’t want to bore you with the details sir…” Brian says embarrassed in front of his chief.

“Oh c’mon you gotta tell him about the part where she’s not quiet, and literally screams your name! You know the whole, ‘Oh Brian, Oh Brain!’” Herrmann says now mimicking Otis’ perception of you.

“Yeah he’s meeting her parents tonight! Says he might love her if her dad isn’t too crazy!” Cruz says dying laughing and still not fully grasping that this is extremely embarrassing for Otis. Meanwhile Otis sits in his self-loathe at the moment beat red wishing he never said anything at all.

“That is just…wow. What a coincidence though, I’m meeting my daughter’s boyfriend tonight. Dinner, at my place…7 o’clock.” Boden says piling on the details.

“Wow that is a coincidence…sir.” Brian coughs at the last second praying that his girlfriend is not his chief’s daughter. She would’ve mentioned something right? Like oh hey, just to let you know, your boss is my dad! She knew he was a firefighter at 51 why did she not say anything. Suddenly the room felt really hot and Brian was being cooked.

“You know, Otis, the coincidence is really just uncanny, like how my daughter’s boyfriend is a firefighter, and you’re a firefighter. And how my daughter’s boyfriend works at firehouse 51, and you work at firehouse 51, oh and also, my daughter’s boyfriend is coming over to meet us tonight, and you’re going to meet your girlfriend’s parents tonight. It’s just…wow! Absolutely…crazy.” Boden says finishing his train of thought smiling like a maniac getting an absolute kick out of this little ‘bro’ talk he decided to indulge in.

“I’ll go mop the app floor now.” Brian said getting up and excusing himself from this horrifying situation he’s found himself in.

“Make sure you wash all three trucks too. I wanna see my reflection in every single one head to toe. And don’t be late to dinner!” Boden said walking away laughing knowing he was going to call Donna and tell her everything.

#brian zvonecek x reader #otis x reader #otis chicago fire #wallace boden #chiefs daughter #cute

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aetherdoesthings · 3 months

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hello!!! i hope you're having a good day!

i've been suffering from insomnia for a while, and i can't really get a good night's sleep. can i request a female insomniac reader x nico robin? like i love her so much i would die for her. general hcs are fine as well if u don't wanna write a lot.

thank you!!

hello anon!! thanks, i had an okay day today! i'm sorry to hear that you're suffering from insomnia, i hope you feel better. i would literally die for robin too like 🤭

forethoughts: ahhhhhh debating if i should a. write luffy x reader part 3, b. write hanahaki au!reader x robin part 1, c. practice my cello. hmmmm.

notes: fem!reader, platonic-y with suggestive romance

You wanted to sleep.

You needed to sleep.

Ever since you joined the Straw Hat Pirates, you’ve been having some sleeping problems. Maybe it was because of the waves that made you seasick, or the occasional sound of the wood creaking that shook you, making you think the ship was about to crash. You were always a light sleeper before you joined the Straw Hats, but it got worse.

You had asked the resident doctor on the ship for a remedy, after accepting that two sleepless nights might not help you have a good performance the next day.

A notable example and sign that told you you needed help was during one day, when Nami was doing a ‘routine cleaning’ to make sure we weren’t keeping any junk that would attract bugs and all that. As you were sorting out what you wanted to throw out and what you wanted to keep, you mixed up both piles. If it wasn’t for Robin catching you holding a box of all your clothes and prized possessions into the giant trash bag, you would’ve lost a lot of clothes and trinkets you adored.

Chopper had given you some pills to take to help you sleep, advising you to drink some sort of tea and do meditation before you would rest. You decided to listen to him, as you sat on your bed, taking the pills and the tea, focusing on your breathing for a good ten minutes, before lying back down, closing your eyes.

You immediately woke up the moment a wave hit the boat, forcing you to sit up as you let out a frustrated groan, mad at your incapability to just relax. It was 12am. Everyone should be asleep, aside from the ones keeping watch. You decide to make use of your time, venturing out of your room and finding a more comfortable place than your own bed to sleep in.

Your legs absentmindedly made their way to the resident archaeologist’s place, your hand turning the doorknob and entering the library. You expected the lights to be off, as Robin was already asleep at this time. However, to your surprise, the lights were on, and the archaeologist herself was sitting on the couch, reading a book.

Robin glanced up at you from her book, a small smile on her face. “Ah, Y/N, may I help you? It’s quite late; you should be asleep.”

You try to close the door and head back into your room and bury yourself in embarrassment, but it’s too late. You closed the door behind you, looking down at the ground. “Uhm… I was trying to find a place to sleep… I didn’t know you were here. I’ll go, I’m sorry for intruding.”

Before you could place your hand on the door knob, a hand that sprouted from the door prevented you from doing so.

“Please. You’re not intruding; I was just wrapping up.” Robin smiled warmly at you. “Are you having a hard time sleeping again?”

“Y-Yeah… I am… How did you know?” You raised an eyebrow, wondering if Robin had occasionally sprouted a hand with an eye in it, staring at you tossing and turning in bed.

“Your behavior in the day reflects your rest during the night. And let’s just say… you haven’t been the same ever since you joined. And ever since that little mishap during Nami’s cleaning day… I had a suspicion you were having a hard time sleeping.” Robin stated matter-of-factly, her voice warm and lulling.

You scratched the back of your head, looking away. “Chopper already gave me some meds…”

“Is it working?”

“No…” You shook your head, relenting to the fact that Robin was now fully aware of your sleeping problems. Of course Robin would catch onto your problem; she never misses anything when it came to you. So what’s the point of even hiding it from her, then?

“I tried sleeping just now… taking the pills and trying to meditate. I still can’t… the waves just keep jolting me back awake, I don’t know what to do.” You exasperated, leaning against the door as you held your tired head.

“Come. Sit with me.” Robin patted the empty seat beside her on the couch, as a hand helped put her book away. Reluctantly, you trudged towards the archaeologist, creating a dip in the couch. You sat with your knees pressed against each other, your back not pressing against the cushions.

“I don’t bite.” Robin smiled at your effort to use as little space as possible, patting the spot that was directly next to her. “Please.”

You moved closer to her, until her shirt brushed against your shoulder, the scent of fresh ink and flowers making your body relax. Robin always made you feel as comfortable as possible; she let you nap on her during the day (which probably helped contribute to her speculation about your sleeping problems), always checked in on you to make sure you were drinking enough water or weren’t about to accidentally hurt yourself.

“Why don’t you try sleeping with me tonight?” Robin nonchalantly suggested.

Your face flushed red, as you furiously shook your head. “Y-You don’t need to do that. I-It’s fine, I couldn’t possibly ask you to sacrifice your space in order to help me sleep-”

“I’m not sacrificing anything, Y/N. Your sleep matters to me. Lie down on my lap. Don’t be shy. It might help you.”

“I’m not sure-”

Several hands gently push you against Robin’s body, making you lie down on her soft lap, your body curled into a fetal position as you laid down on the couch. A blanket was placed on top of your body, several hands tucking you in as Robin placed a hand on your head. She intertwined her fingers and your hair, gently patting your head to get you more comfortable and relaxed. Your shoulders slumped, as your legs moved away from your chest, letting the warmth and comfort Robin gave you seep into your body.

“Shall I read you a story? Perhaps that could lull you to sleep.” Robin suggested.

“S-Sure…” You replied, as you felt your eyelids getting more heavy the more Robin petted your head.

With the help of her hands, Robin picked up the book she was reading, as she began to read it out loud, her soft and elegant voice filling your ears, making your brain calm down, your muscles relaxing. You let yourself close your eyes, letting down your guard in front of the archaeologist. The deeper she got into the story, the sooner you felt yourself succumb into a slumber.

Your body jolted the moment a wave crashed into the Sunny, your head rising from Robin’s lap. But since she had your head in her hand, she gently forced you back down, giving you a warm and reassuring smile.

“It’s okay. It’s just a wave. It’s alright, you’re safe.” Robin whispered.

You let out a shaky breath, nodding your head to let Robin know she could continue reading her story. You were safe. Safe. Safe in Robin’s hand. Safe with Robin. You were safe.

Another wave hit the ship, but this time you didn’t flinch or move. You were safe. As long as you were with Robin, you were safe. You closed your eyes, feeling Robin’s warmth and inhaling her scent as you slowly drifted off into a well deserved slumber.

“Y/N…?” Robin whispered softly. You looked adorable in her arms; head resting on her lap, eyes closed and blanket covering your body. She couldn’t help but smile at your form, as she placed her book down. With her own hands, she scooped up your tiny body, carrying you back to her room, laying you down on her bed before crawling in next to you.

“Goodnight, my dear.” Robin let out a deep breath, as she closed her eyes too.

#one piece #op #nico robin #nico robin x reader #sleeping #aetherasks

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thesparklingwriter · 1 year

Text

a gift from a dragon

"Was I ever going to be told about this, or was I supposed to accidentally discover it myself?"

tags: pet names, fem!reader, established relationship, reader is preganant, dragon!zhongli doing dragon!zhongli things because im a simp, nesting, tooth rottingly fluffy

ao3 link | taglist | masterlist | next

hello everyone ^^ this segment of the zhongli flufftober that is now just 31 fluffshots is inspired by this ask! i recommend checking it out so you know what the original context was :) i had so much fun writing this, i was literally kicking my feet and giggling like an imbecile... anyway I've been told by a couple of betas on some other works that i may have a slight over reliance on dialogue so I've been working on setting the scene a bit more through description, please tell me if this slays or not.

i am down so astronomically bad for family man zhongli be still my beating heart and ovaries cause wtaf

Zhongli's favourite part of the day is easily six pm when he can hurry home from the funeral parlor to see you. But over the few weeks, he's been becoming more on edge as the clock tends to the end of his work day. He's never particularly enjoyed being away from you for long, granted, but he always wants to be at home now.

On his way home, he passes through the market stalls and finds himself drawn to a couple of stands, musing over how the wares would suit your home perfectly. Before he knows it, he's bought a ridiculous amount of goods and is staggering under the weight of it as he returns home to you. He'd only meant to buy the vase, but then he'd been drawn to some woolen blankets and pillowcases with golden threads, and how could he ignore his instincts when they were calling out to him so loudly?

"You're finally home," you smile when he comes through the front door. You dare not ask about the ridiculous amount of things he's been buying recently–when you do, he looks at you with confusion, as if you're supposed to know what he's doing. You don't. At all. When it comes to Zhongli and his instincts, you've learned to ride the wave and accept whatever you're told.

Zhongli lowers his head to kiss you, manoeuvering his pile of goodies out of your way. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm great. How are you?" You shoot back snarkily. You know that's not what he's asking—he's asking about whether the baby's been good today or whether you've done anything particularly exciting with the sudden excess of time you've been granted since taking maternity leave.

"I'm well, thanks," he replies, chuckling at your evasion of his question. You do this almost every day, withholding the details of your day from him until he sits down and gives you his full attention—something he can't do while carrying a whole mound of knitted goods.

"I'll tell you more after you put that away. Where are you stashing all that stuff anyway?" You ask, and Zhognli shrugs.

"Places." he smiles, heading upstairs. The aforementioned place is your room—not that you spend much time in it. In fact, Zhongli's been in your old room more often in the past three months than you have since you moved in. As your pregnancy progresses, you seek him out more than usual, desperate for his comfort. And so, his room has become a shared room. Not that he particularly minds.

When he returns downstairs, he lies down, resting his head in your lap, and you tell him everything you've done today, absent-mindedly braiding his hair as you talk. He likes being close to your stomach, even though you're barely showing, and listens attentively, asking questions about your adventures. Nine times out of ten, you both fall asleep like this, and you awake in the morning in your bed. But today, you wake up before Zhongli does, having napped earlier in the day, and carefully slip away from him, slipping a pillow under his head where you once had been.

The sheer amount of knitted things Zhongli brought today has made you want to revive your old hobby of crocheting in the hopes you might be able to make something for the baby. If you remember correctly, the last time you crocheted anything was when you still used your room for its intended purpose—and not as a walk-in wardrobe. And so, you march yourself to your room, ready to check under the bed for your trunk of supplies.

Or rather, you would be if Zhongli hadn't replaced your bed with what feels like thousands of pillows and blankets.

Oh, Li, you think, wrapping a blanket with golden threads around your shoulders.

Sometimes, it's easy to forget that the man wasn't always human—that even though his body is that of a man's, his mind and soul aren't, and that sometimes old instincts kick in. Was he embarrassed? Was he worried that you'd think he's weird?

You walk towards the large pile of comforters out of curiosity. If he put this much work into it, you might as well test if it's any good, right? You sink into the blankets, curling up with one of the pillows in your hands. It feels like every part of your body is being hugged by him and you can swear the blankets smell like him. Before you know it, you've fallen asleep, a golden pillow clutched close to your chest.

When Zhongli wakes up and finds you replaced by a pillow but the house silent, he's slightly concerned. Have you injured yourself while he's been sleeping? It can't be. He would have woken up. And so he decides to search for you. Just to make sure you're alright. He can't be too careful. But you're not in his bed, and you're not in the bathroom, the study, or the small makeshift library he'd put together for you.

The final place to look is your old room, but you'd had no reason to go in there before, so why would you go now all of a sudden? But of course, that's where he finds you, curled up in the middle of the sorry attempt of a nest he'd put together to try and curb his urges. He wishes he'd had enough time to finalise his preparations, but seeing you sleep so happily makes his heart swell. He sits on the floor beside the bed, carefully taking your hand in his as you stir, resting your hand on your stomach as you sit up.

"Good evening," he smiles, and you stare at him blankly as if you don't understand, a sign you've slept well. "Are you alright?"

You nod, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into bed with you. When you've finally woken up enough to talk, you look up at him and ask: "Was I ever going to be told about this, or was I supposed to accidentally discover it myself?"

"I had intended it to be a gift for you and the baby when you were further along, but I have no objections to you getting an early present." His smile is excited and bright as he pulls you closer to him, suddenly overcome with the feeling that you can never be close enough.

"This is not what I expected when I found out dragons nest." You smile against his chest.

"Well, I can't exactly bring you feathers, can I? You'd slaughter me the minute I step over the threshold, so this will have to do."

"I can think of worse places to sleep," you smile, kissing him lightly. "Thank you. I love it."

taglist: @ainescribe @thelonelyarchon

#tswzhongliflufftober #zhongli #genshin impact #zhongli fluff #genshin fluff #zhongli x reader #fanfiction #zhongli fanfic #zhongli flufftober #flufftober #genshin impact fluff #genshin impact fan fiction #genshin fan fiction #genshin zhongli #zhongli genshin x reader #zhongli genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader

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cookiesuga55 · 6 months

Text

Subscription Gainer

Gainer Jungkook has a subscription to a weight-loss tips magazine... just so he can do everything they suggest in reverse. He gets so excited every month to get his new book of health tips, food trends, and learn what dietitians say you shouldn't eat... which means Jungkook tries it.

Jungkook happily flips through it across the next few weeks to pick up things that keep his gaining-lifestyle exciting.

"Oh... laying down after eating increases belly fat?" Jungkook moves from sitting to reclining on his couch after chowing down on Chinese takeout, a hand resting on his full belly as he smiles down at it. "You fatten up for me, okay?" He pats his gut and belches, rubbing in bliss.

"Dairy is one of the top foods on the list of 'what wrecks your metabolism'. They say to cut out milk... it's bad for your thighs and waistline." Jungkook puts four big gallons of whole milk in his cart at the grocery store, fully intending on having a thick glass with every meal. He gets blocks of cheese, tubs of yogurt, and a carton of heavy whipping cream just to top it off, humming contently as someone peeks over at his peculiar purchases.

"Someone who drinks 1 to 2 cans of soda a day will expand their waist line five times faster than someone who doesn't..." Jungkook pants as he reads that one. "Thankfully I've got that covered." He takes another swig from his two-liter jug of coke and flips to the next page about combating a sedentary lifestyle, and kicks up his feet.

"Using a smaller plate will make you think that you're eating more, because your plate looks fuller. Limit yourself to only one portion. Oh that'll be fun-" Jungkook piles up food on a massive platter that he serves guests with on holidays and uses it as a plate for himself. He loads it up with a mountain of mashed potatoes, fried chicken, cornbread, and creamy mac n cheese. "It's still only one portion..." He giggles as he sets the feast in his lap and begins to dig in.

"Low-fat foods are loaded with sugar and can actually make you gain weight..." Jungkook frowns as he warily picks up low-fat mayonnaise off the shelf, feeling like he's betraying himself. "I'm putting all of my faith in you, dietitians. If you deprive me of the deliciousness of full-fat mayo-" He turns over the two bottles to compare the nutrition facts and his eyebrows shoot up. Three times more sugar. Jungkook whips out his phone, googling if sugar or fat is worse for weight gain. He grins as he drops the low-fat option into his basket and happily pads away, his tummy warm with the promise of extra poundage.

"Cut out fast food." Jungkook racks up points in his delivery app. The numbers on his scale climb up just as quickly.

"Choose foods that keep you full for longer. Sugar makes you hungry. Stay away from sugary foods late at night." Jungkook drags his carton of ice cream out of the freezer at 1 am, licking his lips as he pops it open. "Sugar and cream. Delicious and so fattening. I love you, ice-cream. Marry me." He groans around his spoon.

"All it takes is a surplus of 200-500 calories a day to see quick results of gaining fat." Jungkook's mouth waters, and his hands come up to slowly squeeze and knead at his flab as he reads aloud. "If you eat an extra 500 calories a day- a few oreos or dessert- it will take 6 days to gain 1 pound of fat." Jungkook groans, greedily grabbing the heavy pooling of blubber resting in his lap that he is growing. He shakes it, wanting to drool as his entire body responds in wobbles. "And how fat will you get by overeating constantly, huh? How fat will I get from one stuffing?" He asks his magazine as his gut growls just at the thought of being stuffed and fattened. Jungkook reaches for his takeout delivery app, cashing in his hard earned reward points as he imagines the hearty feast filling his greedy gut.

Oh, how the dietitians that work so hard to research and make this health magazine would scream if they could see how Jungkook uses it like a holy bible of ways to get even fatter.

#why is this so adorable ;u;

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dragonsrfire · 2 months

Text

THOUGHTS? DEAD POET'S SOCIETY EDITION

Just thoughts I wanted to get out there

So Dead Poet's Society? Right? Now that I think of it was a film that came out when my dad was in his like late teens (technically he was around the same age as some of the cast). And somehow this film - made and released during their time has been one that resonated with the next generation? I am looking at the film and thinking, and I couldn't help but wonder.

I am not talking specifically about the aesthetic or anything but namely how this one film was definitely not made for my demographic. However - 35 or so years later I read a post here or come across a playlist or an edit or a series of head canons - I see how much this single film has impacted generations who came after.

I relate to this film on a very personal level (put the shipping factors aside). I remember watching scenes with Neil and I could almost recall having similar conversations in life and I had to take a step back and think as to why I wanted to block this film out for a while. I resonated with Todd as a writer but also as someone who had a very similar experience (shy - lack of confidence - but one who found their people). Other than that there were relationships within the story that made me look back at the ones I have and had and all that I am grateful for.

Also as a coming of age film I feel like it is one of the most realistic ones out there. The themes and the extremely bittersweet ending are raw and it hit me like a pile of bricks. The fact that they fell apart because of the things they loved - the heart of the group not being there made things drift apart - and those dreamers and poets who speak out are the ones to leave behind a deeply flawed system (and the cause and reason and leaving is depicted in extremely sad ways - they might give up on everything - or be kicked out for what they believed in - or carry extreme guilt for the rest of their lives) - There are those who fall in love and the ones that betray you and all of that can happen in just a few month. Things that took years to build like friendships and fellowships can crumble because of something external and all you believed in might not fix that.

(Also something weird just jog my memory if I am wrong but throughout the film these three use O Captain, My Captain - and its all in important moments - The last one to use it is Todd - Which I just think just captures his growth - he's taken up the confidence brought by two of his closest friends and a teacher who changed his life for at least a small fraction in time)

I had a few teachers in my life like Keating. They are the reason I never gave up on writing or doing things I love. They gave me reason to believe that I had something small I could put to use - I had a teacher who taught me at 14 who told me to never give up writing and another teacher who told me to continue writing poetry - another who showed to me that I should continue to fall in love with reading - another who showed me that the world was beyond the academics (as I studied classics - it was far more than that cookie cutter stereotype) - Also Keating as a teacher who actually listens - who is there to guide and help the boxes that literally hold students in uniformity

I don't know why - and how a film from the past can have such an impact on me in the 21st century - Very few films have impacted me in this manner and most of the films that have impacted me in that way were released in my lifetime. That being said I think myself lucky to have this to go back to. The film is a cathartic ritual of living, laughing in the moment and weeping and crying afterwards.

#dead poets fandom #dead poets society #film discussion #film discourse #ilovedeadpoetssociety #nostalgia #Ilovethisfilm #realism #happinessandheartbreak #comingofage #angst #happiness #neilperry #toddanderson #johnkeating #charlie dalton #stevenmeeks

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philtstone · 3 months

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if you’re still taking prompts from that list, I’d love to see your take on the nemesis one for any of your modern AUs!

sorry it's not an EXISTING modern au but it is. a modern au. partially inspired by many many many things most significantly a post i literally cannot find again no matter how hard i look... also by anne from anne of green gables. anyway, this is mostly just vibes. and my own salad shirazi opinions. in that order.

In Arwen's house growing up family dinner was always a shared time of day, so it makes her glad that the small apartment her father moved into last year honours the same principle.

“It’s not that he irritates me,” eighteen year old Eowyn, fresh out of her first term of university and with her long gold hair in a tangled braid down her back, is explaining from the dinner table. “I hardly get irritated easily — it’s just that he’s so sweet and friendly all the time, I am sure he’s up to something.”

“Eowyn dear,” says her uncle. His attention is mostly absorbed by the newspaper in front of him. “If you might repeat that first part aloud, and reflect on it a bit.”

Eomer snorts from the sink. Gandalf had tasked him with washing the dishes — he had more or less nothing to contribute to meal making. Eowyn makes a face at him.

“I am good tempered. It’s just no one who’s normal is that nice. Certainly not a man.”

Gandalf, who’s in the midst of a very complex chess game with Arwen’s father, chuckles a bit.

“Indeed?” Ada asks, with a wry smile. Eowyn blushes.

“Do not tease her, you men,” Arwen says, sweeping in to add hot water to the tea cups. The pale green flats of the fragrant tea leaves sent in express overseas mail by her maternal grandparents swirl in the kettle’s pour. Authentic green tea has a potency Arwen has not found in anything purchased around here. “You know she isn’t talking about you, and anyway, she’s right.”

While Gandalf says, “Do tell us more, then,” charitably, Arwen returns to the small kitchen island. The rice is coming into its own in the cooker. Rice is always a comfort; it unites across cultures and races. Admittedly to this day Ada will prefer jasmine to basmati, no matter Arwen's own fascination with the latter. She sets about peeling two thick skinned cucumbers and dicing them, along with tomatoes from Mr Bilbo's garden, into a bowl. Then comes the shallot, and its lilac purple skin. Arwen has always loved the colour lilac. She has a nightgown a shade lighter than this onion, which her fiance sighs over dreamily every time it’s taken out.

Behind her Aragorn chops tarragon for the lentils, which are bubbling. He has embraced jasmine rice since childhood. His hair is tied out of his face and just barely escaping the doom of a man bun (Aragorn is too sincere about everything to accidentally look like the smarmiest versions of his countrymen) and he smells of fried onion and rose oil, like he often does when in this place. In matter of fact he smells like this kitchen is decorated: the multiple little knick knacks lining the sil, the old silver, the warm reds of the woven rug in the floor (one of an innumerable number kept in Iverworn’s house), and the cracked old laminate tiling – brown. There is some comfort in the idea that Gilraen's old apartment is still in the family. Only now, Ada has his little shrine in the den which doubles as his study, and a few more photographs have been added to the baby pictures lining the front hallway.

On the other end of the table Gimli and Legolas sort through Bilbo's rock collection while the old man gives running commentary on where he found each one. Arwen’s cousin is being educated on geology in the process. Frodo and Sam and the rest are still at school; Aragorn has volunteered to go pick them up in a half hour.

“This ought to go in the sedimentaries pile, Legolas. You see the distinctive layering – to really know we’d check for carbonate, but I’d say this is a solid limestone.”

“I don’t understand. Many of them have layers. That one with the crystal –”

“Running in parallel. Look, they’ve sedimented. It’s in the name, for Mahal’s sake. The geode, a sedimentary rock? Preposterous.”

“I found that one in Dale you know. It was, oh, twenty years ago or so now — I’d just had a pint with your dad, Gimli – you remember what he was like twenty years ago, wearing those garish red turbans (though they suited him well) – and when we came out on the street there it was by the lamp post, a little lump of a thing. I thought to myself, why, that looks just like Lobelia’s terrible laddoo – you haven’t tried them, but they’re glorified pebbles, with how dry and small she makes them – and then I turned it over and thought, where might a pretty piece of rock like this come from in the middle of such a town? But then, Dale is very metropolitan …“

Absently, Arwen begins humming to herself.

“Won’t someone put on some decent music?”

“Don’t look at us old men, Eomer. Haven’t the youth got a stereo system?”

“Oh, it's all Bluetooth now. Ah — I have your rook there, Elrond.”

“No he hasn’t; that’ll put his queen in jeopardy.”

“Keep your eyes on your lentils, Estel, my own function perfectly well. He’s been doing this since he was a boy.”

“Oh, yes, yes,” says Gandalf, with the wise knowing of someone who was there to witness such behaviour in person.

Between it all, everyone is somehow still managing to listen attentively to Eowyn as she expounds her theories and suspicions.

“He’s asked four times if we could study together after class. Four times. The next major exam we have is worth sixty perfect of the grade and I’m sure he saw me speaking with the professor last week because I was so determined to pass it. No one passes that exam, according to the third years –”

Arwen stirs the lentils and wonders if they ought to take a little bowl to the shrine.

“Perhaps he’s looking for a friend,” says Gandalf philosophically.

“Maybe he’s a creep, like Wormtongue was,” suggests Eomer darkly.

“He’s only starstruck by a girl in the engineering course,” says Bilbo, with a bit of (not unkind) humour in his voice. Then he reaches into his large duffel, which he lugged indoors with Aragorn and Eomer’s help, and extracts a box of fresh sweets for the table. These, Arwen hopes, are better than Lobelia’s – though she is sure they will be much too sweet for her own taste.

“There are girls in engineering these days, old friend,” Gandalf interjects with a raised eyebrow, but Eowyn is not really paying attention to either of them.

“Last week at lab he gave me a book about zoological diseases I mentioned off hand almost a month ago,” she says with that earnest way she has. “That doesn’t have anything to do with engineering. Do you think he was trying to throw me off my game before our lab quiz?”

It is very hard to keep a straight face at this inquiry, but Arwen – and many others present – manage it. “Have you considered that he might have just thought you’d like it?” asks Arwen.

“But that’s none of his business,” Eowyn says, as though this was obvious.

“How did he know you liked it then?” asks her brother, baffled.

“We’ll — I told him,” says Eowyn. She flushes a bit. “But he initiated the conversation. We should have been talking about closed circuits.”

“Or nothing at all, apparently,” says Ada gravely.

“You don’t know him. He’s got a look in his eye. I can just tell.”

“Oh look, I’ve found him on Facebook.”

And so Legolas has, and they all converge around his smartphone while Eowyn glares defiantly.

“Faramir, is it? You know, he kind of looks like you, Estel.”

“Yeah – if you were much scrawnier and looked like a dweeby engineering student.”

“They look nothing alike,” says Eowyn hotly, crossing her arms – Arwen cannot help but catch Aragorn’s eye (he looks like he’s trying very hard not to laugh, not helped at all by Gandalf, who is looking right at him, and skillfully masking his own merriment besides) “and Aragorn would never be such a — a — a snake, anyway.”

Arwen agrees with this hypothetical assessment, at least. She rummages through the fridge and retrieves the fresh clutch of herbs she needs for her salad.

“But what has he done, Eowyn. The poor boy. There is a bit of dweebishness there, isn’t there … indeed …”

“Look at the last name; isn’t that Denethor’s boy?”

“Oh yes, that would explain it. Engineering? Of all things? I always thought he had a poet's soul when he was a kid.”

“I wonder how they’re doing – haven’t spoken to the man in an age, you know.”

“Denethor you mean?”

“Well, not since the incident with that poor tree in the synagogue’s front yard,” says Gandalf sadly. “You were there Aragorn, you remember –”

“Hmmm,” says Aragorn grimly.

“Well I told you,” interrupts Eowyn. “I haven’t got proof, just suspicions! He’s trying to psych me out of this program. But I tell you – I won’t let him!”

Arwen wonders if perhaps Eowyn had grown up around sisters, she wouldn’t insist so very hard on sticking it out through a degree she is not really interested in. These ruminations are interrupted by a soft touch at Arwen's waist. “Hm?” she says.

“I’m off to pick up the kids,” Aragorn begins in a low voice (the assembly continues to chatter behind them). She smiles at him, then stops: for reasons unexplained he is suddenly offering her a horrified expression he usually only reserves for conservative Tik Tok mommy vloggers and occasions where Pippin is about to grievously injure himself on the park playset. “... What are you doing?” he asks.

“Adding the mint,” she says serenely.

“Fresh?” Like she must be mad.

“Doesn’t it have mint?”

It is his grandmother's recipe, after all; silly man.

“Dried.”

“Your mother always said it had to be fresh.”

“Fresh dried mint,” he clarifies, gravely.

“Really Estel.”

“Take over the lentils.”

“That was your job — and you’ve got to pick up Frodo and his friends.”

“In ten minutes.”

“You’re going to ruin it. Mr I Can Subsist On A Can Of Beans.”

“I can subsist. That doesn't mean you can add fresh spearmint to a perfectly good salad. It tastes completely wrong.”

“Estel …” But Aragorn has already ducked beneath the counter to reach deep into the recesses of their spice cabinet and retrieve an extremely dusty repurposed jar of dried mint, now cradled in his brown hands. The half-peeled label is for sour cherry preserves, which Arwen is sure no one in this family has bought from a store since they discovered the tree in Ada’s backyard.

“This is hardly fresh,” Arwen says archly.

“I dried it last week,” he says, all innocence. His t-shirt is worn and ratty enough that its low collar shows off her old necklace. She can see the jade flower and her own name etched in the characters of her mothers language at the center.

She sighs. Kisses his cheek; takes the mint. “Go fetch Mr. Bilbo’s wards.”

“They’re going to make a mess of my car,” he says, as if he did not happily volunteer for this task.

“Your car is already a mess, my love.”

So he goes, grinning. Arwen adds the mint to the salad and renters the fray.

“Eowyn,” she says. “Perhaps the next time he asks to study, you might take him up on it. That way you can get close enough to catch him at his awful scheme.”

Eowyn's mouth widens in a ponderous oh, as if she had never thought of this. Arwen pats her shoulder comfortingly.

“Food will be ready in ten minutes,” she says. Ada is smiling at her — a true smile, not without its own edges of memory, but no longer the bittersweet thing of three years ago. Arwen smiles back.

#i would post this on ao3 but its so niche and im not sure if i want my 200th post to be this plotless #we'll see #my writing #thank u emma you always got me #lord of the rings #arwen undomiel #aragorn #bilbo baggins #gandalf #eowyn #elrond #gimli #legolas #theoden #eomer #aragorn x arwen #eowyn x faramir #gimli x legolas #is this something

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sadcatjae · 1 year

Note

Whumpee who is actually a conditioned cold-blooded villain and a dangerous obedient weapon, discarded like a broken toy, so they live the rest of their lonesome life in agony and delirium. And Caretaker, who actually wants to survive the encounter with “Whumpee”, but also desperately trying to help and save them 🥺🥺🥺

Ahhh yesyesyesyes so much yes that i actually wrote a thing?????? What the--

Erm and it's awkwardly written and has too much lore but i wrote a thing and I'm very happy that I wrote AT ALL so yay! Thank you for your amazing prompt!! And sorry I didn't respond until now ;u; <;3

Also - I knoooow Kasin is like, caring for someone who literally tried to kill him one second ago, but he's a himbo and a Good Boy (tm) and has no idea if Mercy is legit dying or what sooooooo V_V

CW: Mentions of murder/hanging, PTSD/flashbacks, panic attack, dissociation, scarring, mentions of torture, self harm, knife wounds, dehydration.

“You picked a helluva time to sign up, mulch,” is the first thing Senior Officer Tophel says when they meet.

“How do you figure?” Kasin grins, taking the proffered sword and admiring the Blue Guards’ sigil in the glinting silver hilt.

The older man glances over his new recruit’s perfectly pressed uniform and gives a begrudging nod of approval. “Mercy’s coming to Everlost.”

“Mercy?”

“Ain’t you ever heard of Mercy? The Emperor’s Arbiter and Royal Steward. Apparently he got himself exiled. Though for what, I ain’t privy to. All I know is he’s coming here.” Tophel huffs and shakes his head, fingers twisting the ends of his walrus moustache. “Fact that his head’s not on a pike is no small wonder.”

Kasin twists his mouth to the side as he sheathes his new sword. “What did this Mercy do, to warrant such a gruesome end?”

Tophel sweeps up the loose papers on his desk into a neat pile, his expression one of sheer disdain. “No-one visited by Mercy is left intact. That’s all you have to know. Just keep out of his way and if you can’t - aim to kill, because there won’t be anything left by the time he’s done with you.”

The younger man frowns, uncertain how much one civilian can do against an armed guard. Then again, bluebloods in the Imperial City are known to be well versed in combat, having the best training from a young age. Maybe Kasin should err on the side of caution. Just this once.

“I assume you’re telling me about this man for a reason,” Kasin says, raising a brow.

“Looks like we have ourselves a mulch with brains,” Tophel scoffs, sticking his pipe into the corner of his mouth. “It’s what the Captain wants. A simple assignment to watch over our newest resident. No contact, no interference. Just watch. You’ll be on a rotating twelve hour shift with Dazer and you’ll both be assessed for other duties in a month. Any questions, mulch?”

“Why ‘mulch’?” Kasin isn’t stupid, but he asks anyway. Tophel’s greying at his temples. He’s sun weathered and rigid; got a mean, stubborn lock to his jaw. He doesn’t look like he enjoys challenging the status quo - so it’s probably best if Kasin plays his part.

“It’s what you’re gonna be by summer’s end. If you don’t like it, then prove me wrong. Anything else?”

“Am I to disguise myself while on assignment?”

Tophel smiles around his pipe, but it’s more like a leer. “No. Captain wants you in full uniform and full view at all times.”

Mercy’s place of residence could only be described as a hovel. It’s a shack on the edge of the forest, with swathes of spoiled land on either side. The nearest neighbour is the Sudbury Farm to the east and the dumping grounds to the west. The trees here grow black and twisted. By all rights, they shouldn’t be growing at all - but the roots have stubbornly taken hold of the arid land and the branches contort upwards, greedily drinking in every drop of rain and glimmer of sun to feed their wasted bodies.

The biggest and ugliest of these trees grows in front of Mercy’s shack, not thirty feet away. This is where Kasin stations himself, standing in his sky blue uniform, just under the gnarled black branches. He stands out in this desolate landscape, like a vibrant drop of paint on a blank white canvas. The restless movement in the dust-caked windows attests to his bold presence.

Mercy is nervous. Aware. He peeks out the window every few minutes, but never lingers long enough for Kasin to get a proper look.

Mercy is just a flitting shadow. No more than a ghost.

It’s like this for three days. From morning to dusk, Kasin stands under that black tree, dutifully watching those grimy windows. Nervous shadows and obscured motions greet him like clockwork. And then Dazer, the other new recruit, shambles up (long past dusk) to take his shift.

On the fourth day, he arrives to an angry crowd of civilians swarming Dazer with a variety of makeshift weapons in hand.

“We want him gone, Dazer!” One of them shakes his pitchfork at the hassled guard. “I know in my gut that he’s the one stealing my chickens and cured meats!”

Dazer laughs nervously and pats the air. “Now, now, Mister Sudbury. I don’t have any say in his stayin’ or leavin’–”

“I caught him going through my trash!” another shrills, red-faced like her equally enraged comrades. “I don’t care if he’s a toff from the Imperial City, I want him out of my town!”

“Miss Daisy, going through trash isn’t technically against the law–”

“Oh, Jim's told me all about that ghastly beast you're defending. He's killed hundreds of innocent people to sate his perverse cravings, and hides behind His Majesty's goodwill."

Another voice shrieks, "He’s a demon that wears the skin of man!”

The crowd surges in volume and fury, inundating poor Dazer until Kasin finally reaches his side. The townsfolk pause for a moment, recognising this young man who has, in his twenty-five years, garnered a strong reputation in Everlost as a reliable, kind, and moral character.

“If anyone has grievances to be heard, please send a missive to Captain Locke,” Kasin announces over the discontented grumble. “Dazer and I have been ordered to keep watch of the situation. You can be rest assured that nothing will elude our attention - so please. Return to your fields and businesses and homes. Should there be any cause for concern, you will be informed.”

For a moment, Kasin’s reassurances seem to have worked. The townsfolk relax, their makeshift weapons drop to their sides, and they consider his words. But then Sudbury, always the inciter, raises his pitchfork and bullrushes the shack, hollering, “DEATH TO THE DEMON OF MIDOTHAL!”

Two other burly men split off from the re-ignited crowd, following Sudbury to the front door. Before Kasin can even react, they’ve kicked down the flimsy wood and dragged out a hooded figure from the gloomy interior.

One word comes to Kasin’s mind when he lays eyes upon the fearsome Mercy for the very first time.

Fragile.

The figure enshrouded by a tattered grey cloak isn’t by any means frail. In fact, they are imposingly tall and there is evidence of a wiry, athletic figure. However, Mercy stands stooped over like his crooked black trees, hooded head cast down, and his limbs shaking as though it were mid-winter instead of summer.

His bare feet, filthy and as grey as his cloak, stumble every second step. Kasin suspects that if he weren’t being dragged by Sudbury’s men, he would have collapsed not one foot out the door.

Kasin yanks his sheathed sword free from his belt and rushes to Mercy’s side. The latter’s thrown to the dirt, crumpled and silent.

“Stand down Powle, Richard, Bolt.” The young guard points his sheathed sword at the three men in turn. His oaken stare, intense and penetrating. Something in his eyes has them hesitating, their righteous anger withering to dust. “While we may know each other as well as family, I will not hesitate to arrest you should you enact your own justice. This is a land of law. Which means we abide by the law and entrust the administration of justice by the court of law. As a citizen of Everlost, this is the contract you have agreed to.” Kasin pauses, gaze sharpening. “Do you agree?”

The three men exchange wary glances and begrudgingly respond.

“Aye.”

“Yes.”

“I s’pose it is.”

“Very well,” Kasin says, his stern expression relaxing. Though he does smile, his gaze remain severe. “It is not our place to question His Majesty’s decision to exile this man to our humble town. Nor is it our place to judge this man. Return to your lives and invest your concerns in your own matters. In this drought, there will be many, I’m sure.”

He doesn’t lower his sword until the last fires of outrage are doused. Only reluctant acquiescence remains, and eventually, the crowd disperses in terse clumps. Sudbury and his men are the last to leave, and they don’t do so without parting words. Words that promise later retribution.

“I better report this to Tophel,” Dazer sighs, wiping sweat from his brow. “Thanks for saving my ass, Kasin. I really thought I’d have run old Daisy through for a moment there.”

Kasin sends him a wry smile. “I think she would have run you through first.”

“Eh. You’re probably right.”

Kasin watches Dazer set off in a trot up the dirt road before turning his attention to Mercy.

The hooded figure picks himself up unsteadily, legs quaking from the effort. Now that they are alone, Mercy finally raises his head. There’s a glimmer of pale skin and well defined features - a sharp jawline sweeping into the shadow of the hood, and a pair of cracked, bloodless lips pressed into a tight grimace. Odd marks mar the pallid skin, but it’s difficult to tell from this distance.

Kasin, who had always considered himself to be quite tall, feels a little intimidated by the other’s imposing height. Mercy must stand at least a foot above, and the young guard has to angle his head back a tad to address him.

“Mister Mercy, I presume?” Kasin says, politely. “I must apologise. They aren’t normally this…angry. They are all good people, truly. I promise you this was an anomalous event that will never happen again. You are safe here. I will ensure it.”

Mercy’s lips twitch into a faint sneer. “How.” His voice is hoarse, grating, as though unused for many months.

The guard blinks. “I am an officer of the Blue Guards. It is my duty to ensure your safety as a resident of Everlost. And - as you are well aware by now - I have been ordered to keep watch over you. Along with Officer Dazer. Between the two of us, we will prevent any future aggressions.”

Mercy is silent for a time. Kasin has the distinct feeling that he’s being stared at. So he stares into the shade of the hood, directly where he assumes the other’s eyes are.

Eventually, Mercy turns his head to the side. “You are not watching me for my safety,” he says, impassively.

“I don’t know my Captain’s intent,” Kasin says, evenly. “But I can tell you that I care for the wellbeing of all townsfolk. Exiled or not.” There’s a teasing lilt to the last three words which seems to agitate the other man.

Without another word, Mercy unsteadily returns to his shack. Kasin slips his sheathed sword back into his belt, uncertain whether to follow him or not. His decision is made for him when Mercy trips over the broken pieces of his door and staggers into something with a tremendous crash.

Mercy seethes and kicks the broken cot into the wall. And just like that, he’s lost his bed. His cot was the only comfort he’d bought for himself with the little coin he’d had left. And now it’s gone.

Just like everything else.

‘Exile’ means being exiled in all sense of the word. Meaning, he was exiled not only from his home, his work, his title, but also his land and wealth. Whatever coin he’d had on his person when he was informed of his new status, is all he was allowed to carry into his next life.

The ex-Arbiter clutches his throbbing leg, allowing himself a moment of weakness, before Kasin appears in his doorway like an irritating gnat. He straightens up, every muscle tensing as his abode is so rudely trespassed.

“Ah…your door…” The guard crouches down and picks up a large piece of broken wood. He gives Mercy a guileless smile. “Sorry about that. I’m a pretty good carpenter if you’d like me to fix it up for you.”

“Leave,” is all Mercy can spit out. His heart’s pounding near out of his chest and his hands are shaking, shaking, because this creature is in his house. He’s touching his things. He’s talking to him. He’s smiling, smiling like Mercy’s just another person, just another townsfolk who has a face and a future.

But Kasin isn’t listening. He’s walking further into his house, looking at his meagre possessions, casually commenting on the state of his broken furniture. “I can fix this too - no problem. But is this cot big enough for you? With your height, I’d imagine it’s quite a squeeze every night. Maybe I could extend the end a bit, so that you can stretch out? I have a lot wood back home that’s going to waste. And there’ll be no charge - consider it compensation for today–”

Mercy feels it. The Hollow. It slithers in like a snake, starving for prey, and sending venom straight into his veins. It unfurls, uncoils, until he’s no longer in possession of himself. There’s only the Hollow that knows only consumption. He loses himself to blissful domination and there’s its voice, its cloying voice, which commands him to do what he does best.

The broken halves of the cot drop to his feet in a clatter. Kasin freezes. Hands gone numb. His eyes staring blindly at the swollen, mouldy wall in front of him.

The sharp prick in his back is unmistakable.

“What are you doing, Mister Mercy?” He keeps his tone calm, friendly even, but his insides tumble about like loose rocks.

The prick turns to real pain. He feels his skin snap and flesh give. Blood wells. It’s only an inch, but it’s enough to make Mercy’s intent clear.

“Mister Mercy? Did I say something wrong?”

“Yes.”

Kasin feels a chill run down his spine. That voice is void of emotion. Near inhuman. Is this man really a killer?

“Ah. I apologise. I tend to speak without thinking. It’s a terrible habit, really. Can’t seem to shake it. Look, I'll apologise properly, but you'll need to lower your weapon. Can you do that for me, Mister Mercy?”

“No.”

Kasin’s heart sinks. He pulls in a shallow breath. Tries again. “I understand. You wish to protect yourself, but you must know that I mean you no harm–”

There’s a steely grip on his shoulder which tightens and jerks him around. It plants a blow on his chest, sending him staggering back into the wall. The cot cracks and splinters further under his clumsy feet.

A dagger of beautiful yet simplistic design, pokes a new shallow hole in his stomach. He winces but maintains his smile. Even when he finally lays eyes on Mercy’s face.

The hood must have fallen away at some point, for the mien before him is exposed to his scrutiny. Mercy’s features are sharp and handsome - his eyes shaped like petals, delicate and soft, if not for the flint-like coldness they hold. Not a flicker of recognisable emotion or thought can be seen in these callous eyes, and unlike his name, they speak of no mercy.

Black, greasy hair, matted with dirt and perhaps dried blood, gathers upon his shoulders, overgrown and impossibly tangled. But the most striking feature of Mercy’s visage are the heavy scores etched deep into his flesh.

At first, they appear to be freshly scarred wounds from random slashes of a knife. Reminisce of a clawed attack from a bear. But then, as eyes adjust, one can see a single word taking shape - carved into the entirety of Mercy’s face, from forehead to jaw, in big vicious letters: AMOS.

Amos. As in, Crown Prince Amos, the Emperor’s eldest son.

Bile surges up Kasin’s gullet which he swallows with difficulty. As frightened he is of the knife sticking into his gut, he’s also greatly pained by the man’s scars. What kind of torture had Mercy been subjected to? Kasin suspects that there’s more to see beyond those cruel letters.

A part of him is in disbelief. The Crown Prince is known for his heroic and generous deeds. Many espouse his virtues and compare him to his father, Emperor Midothal who ends wars without ever raising his sword. After all, isn’t Mercy’s exile proof of his forgiving nature? If Mercy is truly a deviant, indulging in his wicked appetite behind the docile mask of Midothal’s loyal Arbiter and Steward, then he by all rights should be sentenced to death. However, His Majesty had instead chosen to spare Mercy’s life and exile him instead. Why would he do such a thing, if he was the type of man to allow this torture?

Kasin licks his dry lips, nervously. Never mind all that, he thinks. There’s a knife pointed at his stomach - that should take first priority. “Mister Mercy,” he begins, slowly, amicably. “I can see that you are not quite yourself. Perhaps a conversation between friends could ease your burdens? How about a shared meal? There's a tavern close by that does a wonderful meat pie. Come, friend. There need be no bloodshed today.”

The taller man simply stares at him, hollow eyed, detached. His shaking has dissipated entirely. And his stance is lean and centered. Kasin knows that whoever this is, it’s not the same man from moments ago.

There’s no getting out of this. Not with words alone.

Kasin lets his training kick in. In one fast motion, he simultaneously grabs the blade and Mercy’s wrist, and twists the latter to a painful degree. The knife, he wrenches free and tosses to the side.

There’s no reaction to the sprained wrist. Mercy whips into action, attacking the guard with a flurry of perfectly executed blows. Kasin meets them with his own, and they fight like this for many minutes, neither tiring or relenting to the other. Not once does Kasin pull his sword. It’s not his intention to kill this man after all - despite Tophel’s warning.

Finally, Mercy sweeps Kasin’s legs from under him and pins him to the ground with his foot, pushing his weight into that single crushing point. His other foot pins down the guard’s right hand, preventing him from going for his sword.

Kasin groans and chokes, agony spreading through his upper trunk like spilled lava. “Mer…cy…!” He’s not sure if he’s asking for mercy or calling his name, but it’s fruitless either way.

The man simply isn’t here.

Kasin flails. He strikes. He yanks and pulls and kicks. But Mercy’s like a steel column, unyielding, unmoving.

With every compounding inch of pressure upon Kasin’s chest, the less air he’s able to suck in. His vision begins to darken around the edges. His ribs are on the verge of snapping. He knows he has only a few precious seconds of consciousness left. If he doesn’t do anything - he will die.

So as he squints up at the stony, impassive face looming overhead - he takes one final shot in the dark. “A…mos..!”

The pressure stops. A sliver of air seeps through.

He squeezes the word out again. “Amos–!”

Suddenly, as though struck by a powerful force, Mercy violently recoils. His body crashes into the wall, causing the entire structure to judder. Clawed hands desperately scrabble at his hood, attempting to cover his head - or rather, his face.

Kasin raises himself upright, clutching his aching chest and gasping for air. He feels the creeping fingers of regret upon seeing Mercy’s powerful reaction, but for now, he’s alive - and regret momentarily takes a backseat.

Amos.

Mercy clutches the side of his head, dragging the hood further down. Darkness sweeps him up into its comforting embrace - but he’s yet to feel at all assured.

Pants seep through clenched teeth as he slams his head into the wall, trying to knock the scattered fragments of his mind back into place. The swirling, discordant noise knocks him askew. He’s both here and there and nowhere at all, and it takes every shred of his cognisance to keep from falling apart.

Amos burns.

It burns like he’s sinking into him again. Like he’s back in that place, that dark and enduring place, and he bites down on his hand to keep from crying out. This pain is real. Grounding. But the burn is soul-deep. Impossible to ignore.

“Mister Mercy?”

A voice. Firm. Concerned. It reminds him of the dusk.

“Leave.” He’s enough mind to utter a single word. Not a demand. Not a suggestion. A plea.

Please. Please leave. Leave so I can stop fighting. Leave so I can rest.

“Please.” Another plea. Not his own. “Please, Mister Mercy. Tell me what ails you. Is there anything I can do? Are you in pain?”

“Leave–!” The word cracks midway. Wavers. Mercy claws at the wall, smashes himself into it like he can phase right through. He’s shaking now, and chilled right to the bone despite the summer heat. He can smell metal. Copper. His face burns.

Amos burns.

“Mercy. Tell me what’s wrong.” There’s a hand now, touching his face. Gentle fingers pushing his matted hair to the side. Sunlight sneaks in as his hood’s nudged back. He panics.

He’s touching him. He’s pulling off his hood. He’s here, he’s here, he’s here–

Mercy scrambles to his feet, holding onto the wall for support. He holds out a trembling hand, ready to shove Kasin away should he venture too close. But the guard keeps his distance.

Mercy pants through his panic, his eyes wild and face a shock-white. The world spins, lurches, and his legs buckle and bow. The noise reaches an agonising crescendo, drowning out every scattered thought in his brain.

Kasin steps forward, reaching out, alarmed. This time, Mercy relinquishes. He accepts. He exchanges the wall for the guard and collapses into his sturdy arms. All sense of self-preservation dissipates. He’s purely in survival mode. There’s desperation for an end to this suffering, this chaos, like a primal keen.

Amos burns.

Kasin lowers him to the ground and kneels beside him, keeping a firm grasp of his upper arms. “Keep still. Don’t try to move. Here, have some water.”

A flask’s brought to his lips, but he can’t do more than wet his cracked lips. He’s breathing too hard, too fast, rocking in the guard’s arms like he’s trying to escape his own skin - but he can’t, he’s trapped, so he just rocks.

And all the while, his face burns.

Kasin presses his palm against Mercy’s forehead. It’s a light touch but the latter flinches like he’s been scorched.

“Sorry, sorry–” the guard hastily apologises. “But you’re hot, like you’ve a fever, and you're not sweating. When’s the last time you drank water?”

“Burns…” Mercy rasps, on the edge of delirium.

“What does?”

“Amos…Amos burns…”

Somewhere far away, or maybe not far at all, Mercy hears the trickle of water. Murmured words, not quite for his ears. And then a cool, damp cloth pressed gently upon his forehead. The burn lulls. Subsides. The damp cloth dabs across his brow, to his left temple, down his cheek. In the wake of Kasin’s ministrative touch, Mercy - impossibly - finds relief.

His panicked breath slows, lightens. The noise quietens in his head. Mercy sits there, eyes closed, swaying and trembling, as the young guard, this stranger, dabs his burning wounds. These ugly, jagged scars that laid waste to his flesh. Like a soothing rain dousing the blazing, destructive wildfire, Mercy finds a kind of peace in that touch.

Another’s touch is never good. But this touch…this touch is good.

An anomalous event that will never happen again.

When Mercy finally comes to, Kasin has once more doused the cloth - his handkerchief - with water from his flask. The guard’s propped Mercy against the wall to free his hands, and he’s crouched before him, brows furrowed deeply in concern.

Kasin raises the handkerchief to Mercy’s temple, and stills. Oaken eyes, swirling with deep, unfathomable emotion, lock onto a hazy coal-black stare.

“Mercy? Have you returned to your senses?”

Mercy feels drained. Hollowed out like a gutted animal carcass. He wants nothing more than to curl up on his - broken - cot and sleep the day out of existence.

He grabs Kasin’s wrist and yanks it from his face. The guard loses his balance and falls onto his rear.

“Don’t touch me,” Mercy croaks. Should this guard return with a platoon to have him hanged, then so be it. He’s tired of fighting. “I need…” Mercy pauses. Shivers. He feels raw. Weak. And in truth, he is. It only took a single touch to draw out the Hollow. And a single word to break him. “I need you to leave.”

For once, the young guard doesn’t protest. He simply nods, climbs to his feet, and brushes himself off. He leaves his flask and handkerchief on the only standing piece of furniture in the shack - a rickety table salvaged from the dumping ground.

“Try to drink some water,” Kasin says, quietly. “I’ll be outside, keeping watch, so call out if you need anything. I'll...keep your dagger safe. For the moment. A fair exchange, I think, for almost taking my life.” He turns to leave. A pause in the doorway. “I am sorry about what I said. I shouldn't have...I didn't realise you would--" He bites his tongue. Smiles tightly. "I’ll fix you a new door and bring it by tomorrow.” And then he’s gone, off to take up his usual post under the gnarled black tree, with the dagger tucked securely in his belt.

Mercy doesn’t move. He just stares at the naked doorway, lost in the memory of another doorless cell, and the utter incomprehension of simply leaving.

Part 2

#whump #whump writing #whump prompt #villain whump #hero caretaker #villain whumpee #hero x villain #psychological conditioning #mercy is short for mercury btw #kasin doesnt know anything about trauma or panic attacks or mental health things #all he knows is how to fix doors and water the exiled assassin #lord help us all #likely be another part but only after ive updated everything else lol #its 4am so there will be many mistakes #asksadcatjae

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