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hazelfoureyes · 3 months

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The Big Part

Alastor x Virgin FemReader smut

(part 2)

You were dead, it was time to divest yourself of your virginity. When you ask Alastor, he takes to the task immediately. Unfortunately, he seems to enjoy surprising you.

warnings/promises: Alastor x Reader smut, Alastor dislikes getting naked, virginity does not rock, possessive Alastor, head pats, reader is an adult she’s just a nervous idiot bad at words

Horny little deer cult: @frompeach , @chirimeimei , @poppingaround , @polytheatrix , @itsmskeisha , @stygianoir , @celestial-vomit , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @amurtan

minors dni, this isn’t educational in the slightest and is just straight smut

It made sense, at the time. You didn’t want a relationship and you didn’t want to meet a stranger you couldn’t trust, that left very few people to ask. Husk would say no, and probably stop serving you drinks. Angel would most likely agree, but you were a little intimidated by his experience. That left Alastor. While you hadn’t spent much time together, your interactions were always cordial. And plus, this was hell. Isn’t this kind of situation a sinners dream come true?

For most, maybe. But you didn’t know Alastor. Not yet, not really. Everything he did had some ulterior motive. Perhaps nothing he had ever done was simply selfless. If Alastor wasn’t gaining something, Alastor wasn’t interested.

You caught him in the hallway one evening after redemption-oriented activities, deciding to get the moment over with as quickly as possible.

“It’s a favor, little… odd. But you’re the only person I have to ask.” Your eyes darted around his face, down the hall, up the walls, anywhere really but his eyes.

“I’m all ears!” Alastor tapped the microphone to the ground with a satisfying ‘thud’.

Oh— you had rehearsed this but you hadn’t prepared to be staring at that large, toothy grin. It wasn’t unsettling, it was just distracting. Would he be smiling the entire time he… ya know.

“I am,” you steepled your hands, pointing them at him, “a virgin.” You paused, hoping maybe he’d just infer the rest and you could stop talking.

His face was motionless save his eyelids rising up.

“And I don’t want to be. Anymore.” Your lips pursed together. C’mon, Alastor. Figure it out.

Alastor nodded.

You dragged your fingers down your face, “Would you help me with that?”

His head cocked to the side like a golden retriever being handed a book on ancient Egypt. Very nice offer but what exactly do I do with it?

“Help how, precisely?” He finally spoke, tone unchanged from any normal topic of discussion. Alastor watched your face scrunch up, mouth moving around words you abandoned half way through. You weren’t saying anything, just making panicked sounds. “I find annunciation most helpful when wanting to be understood, dear.”

You wanted to somersault out the nearest window. “Alastor will you take my virginity?”

“Take it where?”

You groaned, he laughed, “Just kidding, my dear! All in good fun. So, to be clear, you would like your first sexual experience to be with me?” He pointed the microphone from you to him.

You nodded, “Yes, please.”

His smile seemed to strain. Staring down at you, he tried to understand what your motivation was for this. But as he looked into your big, concerningly innocent eyes, he realized there was none. You really, simply, want him to be the first.

Ooh, as he thought it, he felt his pulse quicken in his lap. The first. A spot no one else could take. For the rest of your afterlife, he would always be the one who was first in you. A delicious thought. He could work with that.

“Are you free now?” He leaned down to your level.

“Oh. I wasn’t-,”

“Expecting immediacy? Perfect, the element of surprise has never failed me before.” His hand wrapped around your waist and drew you in to his chest, there was a rush of cold air over your skin before you felt yourself falling back.

It was soft, the room was dark, save for a small floor lamp in the corner. Your room, you realized.

“I didn’t know you knew my room number.”

“It’s my job to know everything about the hotel.” He said, tossing your shoes behind him. Was this happening now? Right now?

“I can do it, it’s, it’s fine.” You sat up and began undoing your pants. Alastor just standing there, watching. Smiling. Fuck, was it going to be this awkward the entire time? Should you say something? Touch him? You were lifting the hem of your shirt when you realized he was still fully dressed. “Are you going to take off your clothes?”

“Why would I do that?” Head lolled to the side.

You stopped mid-way through unhooking your bra, “Alastor you do know I was asking you to fuck me, right?”

He nodded. Maybe this was a mistake.

After taking off your bra, and finally your panties, you crawled to the top of your bed and drew your knees to your chest. Your feet hid your sex from view. Heart racing, but it wasn’t excitement, as you had anticipated. It was nerves. Would it hurt? Would you make a stupid face? What if he didn’t like the sounds you made? What if you regretted it after?

Alastor got on the bed on his knees, undoing his belt buckle but not his pants. The way he looked at you, your heart skipped a beat. You suddenly remembered he was called the ‘cannibal deer’ as you saw something akin to hunger in his eyes.

“What experience do you have?” His voice was suddenly low, deeper than before. This wasn’t the pun loving radio man you saw prodding the staff.

“I dated. Before. Kissing, um, I don’t know the bases. Groping?” You grimaced, it sounded so formal.

“Have you ever,” he began to slink toward you on his hands and knees, red eyes glowing in the dim light of your room, “been entered?”

Your cheeks burned, your head suddenly swayed as if it was half full of water and someone tipped you over. “Just myself, my,” you lifted your hand.

“Show me.”

All the air left the room, sucked out of your lungs and into his grin.

Uncrossing your feet, you tried to open your thighs without seperating your knees. It didn’t work, but you still managed to get a hand between your legs and to your entrance. You could have cried, you were soaking wet to an embarrassing degree. Your eyes return to Alastor, his gaze never leaving you. Even as you slipped a finger, then two, into yourself. You thought for sure he would want to watch your hands playing with your wet pussy but no, his eyes stayed on your face. Somehow, that was worse.

A shaky sigh escaped, your eyes closing as you tried to focus on relaxing around your digits.

Your head smacked against the headboard when you felt a third finger enter. Not yours. Your eyes flew back open to see him now directly in front of you.

“Two won’t do, dear.” He spun his finger around, pulling slightly at the thin skin of your entrance. “Unless you’d prefer this to hurt?”

You shook your head no, still stinging from the impact you had made. “May I?” His hand took your wrist and removing your fingers. Swiping your wetness from your ass to your clit, he coated his claw-like digits and pushed three back in. They were longer than yours, sharper. You could feel he moved gently, in and out. Your head was heavy, breath short and fast.

He laughed, bringing your consciousness fully back into the room, “Already wanting to change your mind?”

You shook your head side to side, still too embarrassed to speak, and took a grounding breath to help your body accept his fingers. He took his time, sliding in and out of you. His fingers picking up the slick and letting it lubricate your lips. It was so slow, the only pleasure for you was knowing it wasn’t your hand doing it.

But then his stretching of your hole stopped, and he grabbed both of your knees from underneath and pulled you down toward him. Now on your back, legs up and in his hands, you heard his belt slide through the loopholes, his zipper drop. You wanted to look, but you also absolutely did not want to look.

Your knees came together when you felt something hot and round at your entrance. “Ah-ah,” He opened them immediately. He reached for one of your hands, and brought it down to his cock. It was so hard under your fingers, but gave a little when you squeezed. It made him hiss.

“You tell me when to stop, little doe.” He pressed into your opening, pulled back. Pressed in, just barely making it past your lips, pulled back. He kept this pressing and pulling, head making slightly more leeway every time. Your fingers were holding right behind the tip.

“How about this, dear. I’ll just get the head in for now. Manageable!”

“Just— just get the big part in first?” You asked, the pressure at your entrance building with every shallow thrust.

He laughed, nodding as he held both of your knees further apart. When he attempted to get past the curve of his cock’s head, your hands flew down to press against his thigh, pushing back with the intrusion. Alastor stilled, sighed, and pressed his head fully in with a determined thrust. Instinctively, your feet came to his chest and tried to push away from him. It felt like you were being torn down the middle, your body forced apart at your most sensitive junction. He held you still now by the ankles, legs splayed in the air.

It burned where your walls were pushed aside. Stinging where the skin tore slightly just beneath your hole, unable to stretch.

“Breath, sweetheart.” He set your ankles down. “Does it hurt?”

You nodded.

“I’ll stay here for a bit,” he settled on his legs, looking down at where he was connected to you. Your pink little pussy looking positively overwhelmed by his cock. No one has ever been here before, and he could feel it. Your walls were pressing so hard against him his shaft was slightly curved from the force pushing his head out. You still had so much to take, there was so much more of you for him to explore. You tried to calm your breathing but your heart was racking against your sternum.

Hand reaching down again, you let your fingers count little paces from his core to yours. You knew the hardest part was over, but that didn’t bring much comfort as you felt how far you still had to go.

Alastor let his eyes wander away from your not-so-virgin cunt to your face. Your expression was twisted, not pained but clearly uncomfortable.

“How does it feel?” He asked, gesturing to your lap with a nod of his head.

“Full, so full.”

His cackle disheartened you, “Darling I am no where done filling you up.”

You clenched when he said it, earning a small groan from him. You were already too tight, when you spasmed on him it was nearly painful. There was more to do yet, more of you to claim as his. Just the tip of his cock was simply not enough.

His hips started moving again, the folds of his head pulling at the skin of your entrance but not actually crossing the barrier. He was gently rocking, barely making friction between you two. Your hand clawed at his knee, breath hitching. You let an airy moan slip, his head no longer an intrusion but something hot and melty barely rubbing your walls. It started to feel almost good.

Alastor’s cock was throbbing, his shaft touch-starved and desperate for the heat of your cunt. Your face was relaxing now, eyes blinking around new sensations. He wanted to see you experience more, more firsts and frighteningly foreign pleasures. He wanted to see you scared of how good he could make you feel. Alastor wanted you to never feel whole again without him buried balls deep in you.

“Can you take more?” His voice was like gravel, a radio static crackling in.

You met his eyes, glowing still in the dim light, wide and nearly frenzied in their dilation. His smile was practically beaming down at you.

“I don’t know.” You were scared to move forward, even though you wanted more.

“I don’t like liars.” A pop of electricity arcing at the end of his words. You pulled a pillow over your face, trying to hide from the reaction you knew he’d have as his voice made you tighten around him. “Your body says otherwise,” he hissed.

You wanted to say ‘yes’, if this could feel good then how great would all of him feel? But you were scared to vocalize it. Scared to make it start. Alastor lifted the pillow, “I need to see you, dear.” He set it beside his leg, “Do you remember what I said earlier?”

Brow furrowed, you shook your head. His grin widened to his ears as his hands slid down your thighs to your hips and he sank his cock to the hilt.

The element of surprise definitely made the nerves of saying ‘yes’ dissipate, but you were now choking on your breath, hands gripping at the blankets beneath you. Was this normal? Was he too far inside you? You felt nauseous, your guts prodded by Alastor’s member.

“How does it feel now?” He watched your eyes scanning the ceiling for an answer. You felt sure there was no way his head could leave you ever again. It was so snuggly fit in you, you feared you’d be pulled inside out. “Words, dear.”

You sat up on your elbows, sweating from the nerves of it all. “Like there’s a big stick stuck in me.”

“Accurate!” He laughed, and began pulling out. You whined, head dropping back. Almost taking himself out completely, he paused before thrusting back in. The head of his cock dragged against your walls, you could feel him with such detail. Every inch of him leaving impressions behind. Alastor could feel it too, how your soft warmth moved out of his way with every push. How pliable your womb was to his intrusions.

More. You could take more, he was positive of it.

Slowly, your moans began to get louder as the pressure faded into pleasure. Every time he bottomed out, you jumped. Every time he pulled out, you wanted to chase after him with your hips.

Watching your face soften, eyes now watery, Alastor was sure you were relaxed enough. He grabbed the pillow beside him, lifting your ass and sliding it under the small of your back. You didn’t ask, just waited to see what the point was. Dissatisfied, he grabbed another and added it under you.

Your hips were up, ass hanging over the ledge the pillows made, back bent upward. When he began to thrust again, you whinced feeling a new part of you widen for him. “Can you see me?” You looked at him when he said it, but he grabbed your hand and placed it beneath your belly button. When he pushed back in, you could feel his cock beneath your hand. Moving it, you watched your stomach bulge slightly when he was completely sheathed in you.

“Oh fuck-,” your head fell back into the bed, it was too much to feel let alone to watch, “Too deep.”

He hummed an acknowledgement, picking up his pace. “Let me see how you cum.”

Your face was hot, reluctantly bringing your hand to your clit and rubbing.

No, this wasn’t a mistake at all. If anything you regretted not asking sooner.

His thrusts now brought lightning to your core, your finger quickening in speed with the realization of just how good he could feel.

Studying your face still, he adjusted his angle until he saw the muscles in your neck tighten. He knew he found your g-spot, your moans dipping into cries.

“I can’t—,” You couldn’t get over the hump, knowing he was watching you, waiting for you.

“You can”, the lights flickered, his eyes now black with small red pupils illuminating your naked body, “and you will, my dear.” One of his hands stopped pressing finger sized bruises into your hips to instead push your own finger aside. The wide pad of his thumb took over and began thrumming you fast and hard.

That familiar build up of pleasure was stronger than you’d ever felt it, and when it finally snapped your muscles from your thighs to your toes cramped. How long had you been tensing?

You practically sobbed into the crook of your arm, Alastor’s hips slowing but still carrying you through your orgasm. They moved slower and slower, until stopping entirely. His head popped out of you, leaving you feeling hollow. Cold.

Eyes wet and blurry, you looked up at him, “Aren’t you going to finish?”

“If we do everything now, what ‘first’ will we have for tomorrow night? And the night after that?” He smiled, member already hidden away and pants buttoned. Your thighs twitched. “Same time tomorrow, little doe?”

You covered your face with both hands, and nodded.

His big hand came to your head and patted you gently, “Good girl.”

I hope you liked it 🥺 I don’t feel as confident about this one. Fun fact, my first time involved bondage. Very on brand, huh? 💖

༻Masterlist༺

Gonna start calling his dick ‘the element of surprise’. You look tired today! What happened? Oh the element of surprise kept me up all night.

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deadsetobsessions · 1 month

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Once more the hallucinations hit, and once more I am here writing it out.

My brain is fucking terrifying and I want out, so bad. This came to me in the form of a nightmare.

Also, please don’t take the timeline into consideration, because I have no idea what’s going on. Again, nightmares and dreams tend to not have the best coherency when it comes to plot and timelines. The reincarnation doesn’t have a name, I was too busy feeling terrified. Shit in parentheses was how I experienced the nightmare. Everything else is just me adding sprinkle sprinkle.

——

Ra’s al Ghul.

Talia al Ghul.

Two names that she had been aware of, in the peripherals of her hyper fixation. Two characters meant to enhance the story of the Dark Knight. Side characters, on a good day. Perhaps, a main antagonist on a better day.

On a bad day?

Main characters. Real, living people. Real, living, breathing assassins.

Unfortunately, they’re her new family. One she remembered coming into, bathed in a pool of blood and screams.

She was not a baby.

She is now, a baby. The first of Talia al Ghul’s children. The eldest, once Damian al Ghul was born.

Swaddled in emerald green and gold silks, she was presented to a man with silver streaked hair and a receding hairline. He too, was robed in green and golds.

“A daughter, Talia?” He rumbled, the smooth Arabic flowing out of his mouth failing to hide the acrid disappointment. The child, past the haze of confusion of suddenly being deported from her own adult body into one of a helpless child, felt a stirring of irritation. It’s good she learned the language, because now she knew exactly how Ra’s felt about her. The child grumbled a displeased sound. Not that she would have ignored the fact that her grandfather was Ra’s al Ghul. (He smelled like moth eaten fabric and blood- but I think that was because my cat accidentally scratched me.)

“My apologies, father.”

“Do not tell the young detective of this. Had it been a son, perhaps things would have been different. No, a daughter would only hinder him.”

Talia bowed, hands tightening on her daughter. “May I raise her, father?”

“A resource is still a resource. Go ahead, Talia.”

“Yes, father.” Talia took the dismissal and bowed before leaving.

On her way back to the room with the reincarnation’s crib, Talia al Ghul stroked her daughter’s head.

“I wish you were born a boy, my daughter. I am sorry my beloved will never know of you.”

The reincarnation looked at her new mother. She’s young, the woman-child realized. A teenager.

“You’ll have to be useful, my daughter. Your grandfather is not so kind as to keep the useless. I… do not wish for your death,” her mother muttered.

Great. She got new life and it’s already in danger.

——

She learned to swing a knife. Swords. She learned and devoured the teachings. She learned to be useful.

But then they asked her to take the life of a man who did her no wrong.

Her baby blues clashed with her grandfather’s Lazarus green.

She was still young. A child.

“No.”

“No?”

“He did no wrong.”

“He failed, granddaughter.” Ra’s smiled down at her, patronizing. Cruel. “Perhaps you possess your father’s heart, and you are foolishly sentimental, as women and children tend to be. But in the end, you are an al Ghul and you will obey. Plunge in your blade and I will reward you.”

The reincarnation looked at the man kneeling in front of her, resignation and a hint of pity in what little she could see of his face.

She’s already died before. What did she have to be afraid of?

“No.”

They tried to beat the weakness out of her. It didn’t work.

——

The reincarnation stared at the mirror, left alone in an opulent cage of gold and emeralds and precious stones that meant little to her now.

Her hands traced her back, small fingers finding purchase in soft skin. Her mouth opened fruitlessly, noise refusing to escape. She still felt the burning magic, the brand her own blood had carved into her skin and soul because she refused to kill. The chains her grandfather had shackled around her with magic and cruel amusement.

She had killed him, in the end. Obey, or be punished. Her body had moved without her permission, the reincarnation a prisoner in a body that refused to do as she commanded. The knife swung, a life taken, her hands dipped in red.

She learned a valuable lesson that day.

There were things worse than death.

“This is an order, granddaughter.”

The Magic had flared a searing heat at her neck, forcing her to kneel on broken legs. Ra’s loomed above, authority in his voice. She was bound to obey, regardless.

“You will never speak another word of affection, you will never speak another word to anyone unless I allow it. Perhaps this will teach you of your folly, and your place in this world.”

The loss of her freedom and the fear that came with it was a bitter and devastating lesson.

——

Ra’s al Ghul was so much worse than what little she knew of him.

She was right to be afraid for herself.

Her mother had worried, when she’d withdrawn and refused to speak to her. Even if she could, the reincarnation would not have wanted to. The reincarnation had felt furious, back then, when she thought of Talia. Her mother who refused to protect her. Her mother, who claimed she loved her but refused to see the chains Ra’s wrapped around her neck. She who plied the reincarnation with a supportive hand but forced her into the fighting pits.

But, as the reincarnation stumbled out on bruised and used legs from Ra’s al Ghul’s meeting chambers where he had allowed his business partners to partake in her, she realized that Ra’s was a monster in a human’s body and her mother was a victim of his making.

The lesson Ra’s taught her that day was that if she was not useful, if she did not kill, he would take what was left of her and make use of her.

Hate flared in her heart, and the beginning of Ra’s downfall began the day he let her go from the chambers alive. Injured, but alive. Injured and violated, but alive and furious.

——

She carved her hate and rage and helplessness and fear in the bodies of the people he bid her to kill. Her silenced screams were expressed in the way she splattered blood, the way she covered herself in it. A killing machine first, a stress reliever second, and a child… wasn’t on the list of things she was allowed to be.

His enemies were felled, one after another. He gave her his approval, something she detested.

But still, she continued, bodies racking upwards, tens turning to hundreds, hundreds edging into thousands.

The red in her ledger became ichor and guilt. Her language became violence and obedience.

“You have become a sharp tool, granddaughter.”

She was a genius, after all. And now, she could not disobey. A blade that Ra’s believed will never point towards him. She kneeled. She obeyed.

“Thank you, grandfather.” Her words were only allowed to come out- without searing, terrible pain- when she was thanking him. She tried not to do it as often as he wanted. He thought he broke her when he read the obedience she carved into her body language.

But she never bowed. Never. Not to him. Never.

——

“My weapon could learn much from your granddaughter,” David Cain sat across from Ra’s, wine in their stupid goblets. How she detested the green and blacks he’s seen fit to dress her with. She’s dressed provocatively, not of her own choice. She doesn’t have much of those- doesn’t have much in ways of choices- these days.

She was twelve, and Ra’s al Ghul deserved to die.

“Her combat is a higher form of what my daughter has achieved. How did you do it?”

When Ra’s began to reply, she slipped away.

She found the girl. She found… the cage- the black box- the child was placed in. The child flinched from her when she opened the metal box, fear only easing as the reincarnation kept her body language neutral and kind. (It was pitch black, and about the size of like, a closet. No light. Only from whatever door the box had.) (Cass’ hands hurt from banging on the walls to be let out)

David Cain’s daughter, her mind whispered, the memories of another life once more making itself known.

“Cassandra.” She whispered, regretting it immediately when pain wracked her body. She fell to her knees as the punishment for disobeying an order slammed into her.

The girl looked at her in concern, but did not move closer. The reincarnation stared at this girl and saw a reflection of herself.

David Cain would be here for a month. She will free Cassandra in those days.

——

The weapon stared at the girl in front of her, kneeling in pain.

She did not understand.

The girl came back. Water. Food. Kind.

The weapon felt warm. The girl was quiet. No sounds. Good. The weapon knew the girl understood. The weapon thinks that the girl is a weapon too.

The girl comes back, again. This time, she makes a sound. It hurt her, but she did it again. The weapon understands when the girl points at herself and repeats the sound. The sound means the girl. The girl expects something from the weapon.

The weapon makes the sound, flinching to see if the owner will come to punish it. The girl purposefully sits, relaxed but vigilant… and protective. Of the weapon?

The weapon relaxed. It repeated the sound, pointing at the girl.

The girl smiles, in pain. But approval. The weapon feels- the weapon is warm, like under the blanket. Approval.

The girl teaches her to make sounds but the weapon communicates without it. It does not like the sounds, does not need them, but the girl seems to think it’s important.

The weapon likes the girl, so the weapon learns. They still understand through no sounds, through reading each other.

The girl comes back, silently. Secretly. The weapon does not notify the owner. The weapon feels- does not want to.

The girl- the girl with the sound- she says a different sound. Her body tells the weapon that it’s important, this sound.

And when the girl points at herself and says her own sound, then points at the weapon and says that new sound again, the weapon begins to understand.

The girl had given the weapon her own sound.

“Cass—n- ra.”

“Cass,” the girl said, and Cassandra understood.

“Cass.” Cassandra pointed to herself.

The owner wanted- wanted Cassandra to end a life. Cassandra watched the owner kill and gesture to the dead thing.

Cassandra did not want to.

When Cassandra is placed back into the pitch black box, she waited for the girl.

The girl came.

“Don’t want.” Cassandra clung to her, reading the welcome and the sadness in the girl’s body. Cassandra tucked her face into the girl’s shoulder. She is cold. The girl is warm.

The girl hugged her back. The girl understood. Sadness hardened into lines of determination. Cassandra felt… light. Felt hope.

Cassandra slipped away from the place, water in her pack for the dessert and money to run from the country. The girl stayed behind, seeing her off. The girl tells her to never come back.

Cassandra did not want to leave the girl behind, but the girl could not go.

“Be free, Cass.” The girl had whispered through the pain. “For the both of us.”

——

Her grandfather knew. He allowed David Cain to break her, not kill because she was of use to him still, as a lesson. She found that she hated his lessons. But, she hated his attention more.

And still, she could not regret. How could she, when Cass trusted her with what fragile hope she had?

So, she lets him beat her, and provokes him with smirks and fearless eyes because the longer he’s focused on her, the more time Cass has to run.

Then, he gets too angry, and insults Ra’s, whose eyes grew cold. Her grandfather gestured and while she usually hated the command that followed that gesture, she could not feel that hatred now.

She got back up, legs broken and arms twisted once more, and attacked David Cain.

Ra’s would not follow Cass. Not when she was not his business to deal with, and not when David Carin’s fury amused him so.

David Cain would not follow Cass. Not while she still drew breath. The reincarnation stood, and threw herself at one of the best assassins of the century.

She tore his throat out with nothing but her teeth. She felt, for once, not like a monster. Not even when Ra’s nodded in approval and ordered for David Cain’s broken body to be cleaned up.

——

She’s been granted a mission in New Jersey, once her months of discipline- of torture- ended. She does not get ordered to find Cassandra. She’s fourteen now, and as silent as ever. Her mother had adjusted to her silence by then- long ago, actually, taking it as a quirk her daughter had developed. She hadn’t been a terribly vocal child, after all. Talia praised her for being useful even as a woman- the self degradation something the reincarnation had no doubt Ra’s had insidiously trained into Talia- and for being loyal to Ra’s.

Sometimes, she hates Talia for being- for-

Never mind. She couldn’t afford to hate anyone else.

She killed her targets early, determination and wistfulness urging her movements into sharp . Then, she made her way to Gotham and slipped into the city of darkness- where her father was.

She watched as he hid in the shadows almost as easily as she did. She watched as he flew and glided with the younger Robin. (He was younger than her by a year. She checked.) He was free. They were free.

She wished…

As she turned away, she saw a child tumbling from the edge of a roof. It was an instinct she’d thought Ra’s had managed to bury after the months he’d spent making sure she killed only children.

She hated him.

She caught him, swooping in and tucking him against her side as she plucked him from the air and plopped him back onto the crumbling roof of Gotham’s slums.

“Oh, thank you! So much- are you a vigilante?” The boy asked, looking at her masked face. It’s a good thing she wasn’t exactly dressed like a regular League operative.

She shook her head. Her eyes fell onto his camera, faint memories rising once more. She had an inkling-

“I’m- uh- Tim!” The boy introduced himself nervously, edging away from her silence. “Thank you for saving me…?”

She nodded. She pointed to the camera, tilting her head.

“Oh- you… want to see it?” He clutched his camera closer. Oh, he did have some sense of self preservation. She wondered why a seven year old was allowed to roam these streets… but she did worse at seven.

She held her hand up and back up. The boy hesitated, and then showed her the camera. “Uh- I took pictures of Robin and Batman!”

They sat on that roof for hours, and she let Tim Drake tell her stories about her father and his son. Ward. Son.

She could tell that Tim didn’t have anyone to listen to him.

She didn’t have long until she had to go back or risk severe punishment, but… she could make time for Tim, to listen to him.

She wondered if Cass managed to escape completely. She wondered if her sister all but in name and blood learned how to smile.

——

Tim had never had a friend before!

She listened to him! And gave him hugs the one time he was brave enough to ask! And she seemed to like Batman and Robin as much as he did! No one who didn’t like them would listen to his endless rambling otherwise, right? (Tim was super skinny, like ribs poking out skinny. He looked like a sickly Victorian child and he was kind of cold)

“And then, Robin went like this,” he pantomimed the awesome punch Dick Grayson did on a Joker goon. “And the guys got knocked out just like that!”

His new friend nodded, looking interested.

“Sorry, am I talking too much?” Tim asked anxiously. He didn’t want to make his friend hate him!

She shook her head, and gestured for him to continue.

“Are you sure?”

She nodded.

His new friend was so cool! She even taught him how to throw a punch and to fight!

——

When she had to leave, she prepared Tim for it.

“Do you have to go?”

She nodded and placed a hand on his head, ruffling his hair. Her other hand held a duffle bag with an assortment of weapons she carefully kept from him. (One of the blades still had guts on it, which, ew.)

“Try not to fall off anymore roofs, little photographer.” She said, smiling at his shocked look before leaping away.

“Wait, you can talk?!” He shouted at her back. She smiled a little wider.

——

“A son, this time.” Ra’s al Ghul’s voice echoed in his disgustingly flashy throne room. It rings of approval.

The reincarnation stood behind her mother, eyes cast downwards.

“Well done, Talia. I finally have a worthy heir.”

Damian al Ghul cooed.

The reincarnation was scared. But… she could not allow her younger brother to be trapped like she was. She’s fifteen now, a decade of slavery having worn her down and nearly broken her. But with her brother… no, she could not allow it.

She met her mother’s eyes and knew then that they agreed. Protect Damian, at all costs.

She ignored the sting of envy. So what her mother could not find it in herself to protect her daughter? So long as she protected Damian, it didn’t matter.

Maybe she didn’t matter. Maybe she wasn’t worth anything. Maybe- maybe- maybe.

She also ignored the seed of disgust she had for mother’s actions in conceiving Damian. She couldn’t do anything about it. Talia was also a victim.

A louder voice in her asked if she could really excuse that, when Talia had a choice and she chose to hurt and violate Bruce Wayne like that. She wondered if she could truly ever forgive Talia. She wondered if Bruce Wayne got therapy.

——

She stared at the tome in front of her, eyes blank. (Actually, she had no eyes. Like? Empty sockets, but then later she had eyes???)

The brand- the shackles- the chains could only be broken if Ra’s died. She wasn’t opposed to that. But if he died, so did she. She couldn’t even kill herself to get out, because the chains would be there even if she died. If she was revived- a high chance, thanks to the fucking pits- then the chains would still be there.

Perhaps… she could use the pits?

Her mind turned and turned.

——

“This is your ukht.” Her mother pointed at her. Damian stared up at her, and she melted. Her brother was too damn cute.

“Ukhti?”

She nodded as her mother smiled in joy. “Yes, habibi.”

She was better at hiding the pain, now. She was better at enduring it, too, that fucking burning feeling. She spoke more, but only to Damian.

It would not do for her brother to grow up not knowing how to receive verbal expressions of affection. Not like she did, in this life.

Still, it hurt to speak. But then, she had an idea, based on Cassandra.

She could not speak, but speaking wasn’t the only way of communication. She’ll teach Damian sign language- standard, as commanded- but also her own version. Yes, she could do it. It wouldn’t be hard.

She was a genius, after all, and creating languages wasn’t as hard as people seem to think.

——

Damian copied her, small fingers patting his hand four times.

She did it back to him. “I love you.” She tells him, with sounds and with motions.

He does it back, excitedly, because he had a secret with ukhti!

——

Sometimes, she dared not to touch Damian. She wants to ruffle his hair and give him hugs but the ichor on her hands reminds her to not get to greedy. She did not deserve it.

Not when her hands were stained with the lives of so many people.

——

Another mission.

She was twenty now, and not much closer to escaping her bonds. Though, once she hit her majority, Ra’s lost interest in her in that way. A blessing, even if she had to seduce his “business partners” into giving him better deals more often now.

She stops by Bludhaven. The Robin she watched so many years ago- six, by her count- had grown new wings and moved. She wanted to see if he could fly still.

He could. He flew as free- no, freer than his days as Robin.

She dipped away to complete her mission (nuclear weapon trading, really?) and swings back to see a spider trying to break the former Robin’s wings.

“No.” Nightwing whispered, staring upwards at the cloudy sky blankly. “Please, stop.”

She didn’t need to hear any more. She saw red, and dove feet first straight onto the spider’s head, knocking her out.

She picked up a near-catatonic Nightwing, and helped him to his apartment. She left Tarantula in the rain and felt zero guilt about it.

He changed mechanically, some kind of instinct keeping him from removing his domino, but it was a bit pointless considering she escorted him to his personal apartment.

She watched as Nightwing slipped into an exhausted sleep before leaving. She had a spider to squish, and traces to hide.

——

Dick wakes up, drained and exhausted. He… someone saved him.

He sees a scrawled note, handwriting impeccable enough to be a font, written with his pen. He picked it up from his table, and his eyes tiredly read the message.

“Don’t worry about Tarantula. Or your identity.”- A friend.

He remembered- the mask- the mask of the stranger that saved him vividly. He’d remember. And he’d thank them if they ever came back.

——

She was in charge of training assassins, these days. A year and a half later after Bludhaven, she was back in Nanda Parbat, and she’s devoured every magical tome she could get her hands on. They all say the same things.

Her assassins were trained well, and Ra’s praises her with more responsibilities as he followed the pit in his obsessions. Her mother began to splinter the group, not knowing that as Ra’s began his descent into madness, people looked towards her instead of Talia for leadership. They did not know that her unwavering presence by Ra’s side wasn’t voluntary but it is their true that she became his right hand out of pure skill. And flawless obedience, of course.

Then, someone new joins.

Someone with pit rage and empty eyes that goes rigid when she approaches.

Then again, most of the operatives freeze up when she walks towards them.

Her memories roar. A child.

He bowed, and her eyes followed the streak of white hair at the forefront of his skull.

She gestured at him to follow, and ignored the pitiful eyes the rest of the assassins gave to the kid- they act like her training was hard when she went easy on them (it was)- and led the kid towards the training rooms.

She knew who he was, even if her grandfather and mother didn’t think she knew.

Her… Bruce Wayne would probably appreciate his son being returned relatively sane.

But first, she had to beat the Pit out of him. Then, she could assign body guarding duties to him, in an attempt to protect him.

——

“Grandfather, I will take Damian’s punishment.”

“A whipping girl, granddaughter?” But he nodded anyways. He made Damian watch.

She kneeled and allowed the punishment. She couldn’t always protect him from Ra’s, but this she could do anytime. It’s not like she was unfamiliar with the torture. (The whip had barbs. Rusty. And they sprinkled salt.)

——

“I liked poetry….” Jason Todd tells her after a training session. “I think.”

“Sure. I’ll call you Grave, then.” Pain. But she was used to it.

He tilted his head, eyes going blank once more. She sighed. There went his memories again. (His eyes were blank and glazed. Like looking at someone you love and knowing they’re looking through you.)

——

“I would not trust her,” she says to the air, next to a Red Hood emerging from Talia al Ghul’s chambers. She could see it, the beginnings of Gotham’s new crime lord. But still, “Talia al Ghul is known for her lies.”

She pushed away from the wall. It was up to Grave if he listened. It was out of her hands now.

——

She’s twenty-five, and she’s helping Damian pack for his first meeting with Bruce Wayne.

“You must not tell him about me.” Because he’d come rushing here, and she had worked too hard to save Damian for her fool of a father to come and ruin all of that effort.

“I promise.” Her little brother said solemnly. Ukhti said it out loud, which meant it was important and she expected him to keep that promise.

The only other time he’d heard her speak was to tell him she loved him.

The reincarnation smiled and told him through their special sign language, to treat the current Robin with respect and to try his best to get the current Robin to pass down his title.

‘Robin is earned. They have different rules, over there. Try your best to learn those rules.’

Her brother was sheltered. She loved him, but he was spoilt and sheltered. Of course she was worried. Talia barely mothered him.

“I know. You do not have to remind me so often, ukhti.”

She smiled, and patted his head.

“Be safe,” she whispered. “I will miss you.”

Damian darted in for a hug. “Of course. Goodbye, sister. See you soon.”

She hoped not. It was hard enough to convince Ra’s that Damian would learn more under Bruce Wayne.

(She was locked in a small closet- like Cass- for about a week, because she brought up the idea first.)

——

She found it.

The answer to pit rage laid in an old, all but crumbling tome from Atlantis- answers “from a ghost.”

——

Bruce Wayne died. Months after Damian came to live with him. That- irritating- she sighed and worked with her mother to turn Ra’s al Ghul’s attention away from Gotham, lest he called Damian back in Bruce Wayne’s absence.

The little photographer caught grandfather’s attention. She stood vigil as he played chess with Ra’s. His interest in Damian wavered. Anticipation blurred in her veins.

She saved his friends. Her assassins. She let them go, telling them to wait for the little photographer’s plan. (Y’all miss girl had fucking bloody handprints on her pants like someone tried to grab it.)

The first few people who had an inking she might not be loyal to Ra’s… and it was them.

When her other assassins attacked Red Robin, she cut them down before they could touch him, helping him with a furious League of Spiders or whatever operative. She hated spiders.

“What…?”

“You’re a lot of trouble, little photographer.” She sighed. His jaw dropped.

“It’s you!”

“Go,” she cut him off. “Blow this place up. I left a surprise for you outside.”

——

“Owens?! Z?!” Tim trembled, exhaustion and shock and wonder hitting him at once.

“Heya, boss!” Z chirped. Owens helped Tim up while Z helped Tam. Pry walked around them, looking out for further threats. “The nightmare trainer let us go. She knew you, I think.”

Tim smiles, all shark teeth and zero hero. (In the background, the song zero to hero from Hercules 2, played in reverse.) “Tell me more.”

——

Damian grunted, bracing himself for the magical creature’s attack.

“Robin!” His father barked out, panicked. Damian hoped he’d survive-

Shhhlk!

He looked up and there stood his ukht. She bounded forwards, using the odd fauna of the magical plane to bolster her movements as she sliced the creatures apart with her swords, magic humming brightly as she cut through them… and the magicians attacking them.

“What- what are you doing here?” He asked. She greeted him, three fingers curled over her shoulder.

‘My question is,’ she signed. ‘Why were you here without a magical weapon.’

Damian sighed as father stepped in between them.

“Who are you.”

“Batman. Cease your excessive worry. I trust her with my life,” Damian snapped. He stepped around a shocked Batman, looked him in the eyes, and unsheathed his katana. He handed it over to his ukht, who took it with amusement.

‘See?’ His eyes seemed to say. Father tensed when his sister unsheathed her own blade and handed it to him.

‘Are you here for a specific reason?’ His sister signed to him.

“Uh, you gonna introduce us, little man?”

Damian sent the Flash a derisive look and ignored him.

“We’re looking for a magician. He set a squadron of demons loose into D.C. last night. He has a tower.” Damian added.

“Robin,” Father growled. “Who is this.” Damian shot him a look and turned back to his sister.

The reincarnation tilted her head. ‘Tower… it’ll have to be that way.’

“Could you take us there?” Damian asked. Truthfully, he could find the way himself. But he wanted more time around his ukht. She nodded and Damian straightened.

“I feel like we should be concerned that Robin’s friend just murdered a bunch of people.”

His sister glanced back and ignored them.

“Silence, incompetents. Speak another word against her, and Batman’s no killing rule will be applied creatively.” He hissed. (The fucking surroundings hissed with him y’all what the fuck)

He turned when his sister ruffled his hair (Superman muttered a super shocked “what the fuck.”) and Damian allowed it. He had missed his sister.

——

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tismrot · 8 months

Text

The uwu-fication of Good Omens

I’m not saying this to piss on anyone’s parade, everyone can like whatever they want and I realize that people who are perhaps… not experienced in traumatic adult relationships and/or aren’t bitter remnants of whatever ray of light they were supposed to be - I realize their fiction will probably be (for lack of better words)… light and easy.

I also realize that due to the collective heartbreak we’ve experienced after the end of season 2, a little fluff is perhaps needed. Again, not defecating on any crowds - but, like, we did watch the same show, right?

There are some REALLY good meta out there, as well as some fics and some art that really captures the essence of both Crowley and Aziraphale, and the context they struggle within.

…And then there are fics and art/comics where particularly Crowley is reduced to this very tsundere, cranky-despite-secretly-affectionate anime character who blushes and gets ✨ve-y angy✨ whenever he gets a kiss on his cheek or something and I’m like… okay? But. That’s not Crowley, is it? (Yes, you can make him into a hemipened waifu pillow for all I care, go do what makes you happy) - it’s just… You know?

Crowley and Aziraphale are (despite their celestial origins) - at their core - two middle aged, closeted, homosexual men who used to work for two equally oppressive, evil and incompetent fascist governments. That’s why they meet on the benches in the park, like all the other agents sent from other oppressive nations and agencies. The book was written during the last years of the cold war, and during the height of the AIDS crisis. Correct me if I’m wrong, but the first meds for HIV came in 1992 - being gay and being seen with the enemy could bring about equally terrifying death sentences. Yet, they do their best to thwart their Cold War, and then, the nuclear apocalypse.

After barely succeeding, they become as close as they dare to be, and they both know they love each other. Of course they do. That’s why Crowley wants them to stop pretending they don’t. He already assumes Aziraphale knows, because HE DOES KNOW.

Crowley isn’t (canonically) an uwu angy tsundere snek. He is a miserable ex-agent screaming at his closeted, gay lover for refusing to run away with him after 6000 years of war. Crowley is the opposite of tsundere, he is an open, aching wound.

Aziraphale isn’t a kawaii angel cup of hot chocolate, he is a desperate and scared idealist who is threatened into compliance by Great Leader, and who secretly wants nothing more than to let go of all propriety and just allow himself to be happy and freely experience life and love with the man he’s wanted all along, far from all oppression both from society and Heaven.

You guys, this is a story about fighting oppression for love. I just wanted to make sure we’re all on the same side.

And perhaps I’m just old, perhaps my experiences with multiple failed relationships, friendships and my own fallen idealism tints my glasses… But I feel a certain way about all the uwu. I’m sorry. Do uwu if you want. I’m gonna focus on the OPPRESSION, because - apparently - that’s the wall my socks stick to.

And yeah, I know this is very old man yells at cloud. Younger people (or people who just aren’t exactly like me) seeing this show or reading the book deserve the right to play around with it, just like I do. I know, I know, I know. I just needed to say this. Slay me if you must.

End of rant. Thank you for coming to my depression.

EDIT: Yes, I made the Avril Lavigne thing further down. Yes, I am a hypocrite. I’ve made my peace with this.

#aziraphale x crowley #crowley #crowley edits #crowley x aziraphale #good omens 2 #ineffable divorce #ineffable husbands #ineffable spouses #innefable husbands #good omens fandom

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tojivu · 7 months

Note

would u do satoru who actually has six eyes with the reader scenario? it could be anything, like the reader going through his baby pictures and cooing at how cute he looked with one set of eyes open, but the other two werent. or comforting him cuz people think they're freaky. anything fluffy :D

# SIX ‣ GOJO SATORU

✰ — author’s note stop this is so cute.. i changed the prompt a bit i hope u don’t mind. hope this isn’t too long for your taste as well zzz

✰ — cw / tags satoru with literally six eyes , sfw , gn!reader , use of pet names ‘baby’ etc , briefly proof read ( i tried )

✰ — playing n side by steve lacy.

✰ — word count 1.2k

✰ — part two click here.

it was a lazy sunday morning when you decide to wake up early. it was unusual of you, because you usually woke up later than your boyfriend—but you remembered the state of your shared apartment and knew something had to be done.

it was a mess. a complete and utter disarray.

moving in week was finally done, at least technically. some of your stuff was still in cardboard boxes. you knew gojo had some unpacking to do as well, but you figured it wouldn’t hurt to help him—you knew about the long hours he endured.

you’re still groggy when you make your way down the stairs, holding onto the railing for support. you rub your eyes until the sunlight doesn’t hurt anymore—but you glance into your living room and see the piles of tiny boxes, full of trinkets from your previous house and it hurts your eyes all the same.

you yawn and sit yourself down on the couch, scissors in hand and ready to take on the workload. you meticulously cut the tape sealing a particularly damaged cardboard box, deciding you would eliminate the smaller stuff first; gojo would wake up sooner or later and you certainly weren’t going to carry the bigger boxes by yourself.

you turn the flaps over and the sunlight spilling in through the living room windows help visualise how dusty it really is—you don’t think it’s yours. the box must’ve not been opened for quite some time.

it’s a photo frame you find in the box, but there’s way too much dust for you to really see anything. you bring the frame to the kitchen, grabbing a wet rag and wiping the plastic film to the best of your ability. you think this must have been hidden from you on purpose, you’ve never seen this photo in your life—no picture of satoru escapes you, after all. he must’ve not wanted you to see it.

it’s your boyfriend as a child, at a strawberry farm. he’s wearing a sunhat and a basket of berries are being shown off to the camera; his smile undoubtedly huge, and his eyes are glistening in the sunlight the hat failed to deter—all six of them.

you’re wondering why he ever ought to hide this photo from you. you knew about his eyes, and you’ve made it clear that you loved them. though, you can’t really speculate—gojo’s told you briefly about his childhood, but not really in detail. “i didn’t really like showing them when i was young,” was all you got out of him when you asked about his middle school days.

you’re startled when you hear a yawn coming from the stairs, and you shift your gaze from the photo to gojo—adult sized gojo with only one pair of eyes open—who’s making his way towards you. quick reaction time enables you to hide the photo behind you, just as gojo enters the kitchen.

“good morning baby,” he says while rubbing his eyes. he plants a kiss on your forehead, then blinking slowly at you in an attempt to wake himself up completely. “what’re you doing up? it’s 8 a.m.”

you scoff at him, jokingly. “what, am i not allowed to wake up at 8 a.m?”

gojo lets out a chuckle, his voice still raspy. “didn’t say that.”

you smile up at your boyfriend, who’s eyes are still not fully open yet. the slits on his cheek and forehead from his other two pairs of eyes further intrigue you—perhaps, if you dig a little more… would you be able to find photos just like that one?

you feel sneaky, looking through your boyfriend’s things without his permission. of course, you couldn’t help yourself—how could you? his smile looks priceless.

and so, something in you is determined to find every single one.

your mental scheming is stopped, though, when gojo makes a loud gasping noise. you’re snapped back into reality, and you realise he can see the photo frame you’ve hidden behind your back. “y/n!”

gojo is fully awake now, his expression a mix of shock and embarrassment. “how did you find that? i swear i put all those boxes away in my office. . .”

you point a finger at him, accusingly, with your eyebrows furrowed for dramatic effect. feeling offended, you gasp as well. “so you did try to hide them from me!”

he lets a laugh slip through his lips, much too flustered that this is how you discover his childhood photos. he shakes his head, “i’m sorry, y/n. didn’t think it would matter much.”

“why did you hide them? is it because of your eyes?”

gojo nods his head, taking a closer look at his younger self. “they were a bit weird for a six year old to have, no?”

you gasp again, hurt by his statement. the first thought you had when you found the photo was how adorable his eyes were, the different tints of blue shining in the sun—and the missing teeth which were shown so proudly in his smile. how happy he must’ve been to smile like that.

“i love them, ‘toru.”

it was always heartening to hear that coming from you.

when gojo satoru first met you, he was unsure if you’d be weirded out—like how everyone else was when he was younger. he’d learned how to keep the pairs on his forehead and cheeks closed in his teenage years, so it was muscle memory by the time he knew you.

the first time you saw them was a few years ago, an unremarkable tuesday morning: at least that's what you thought, but to satoru—it was everything.

you awaken next to him, and gojo's perplexed. why you were staring at his face so intently? was his bed hair that bad?

“i didn’t know you could open all of them.”

gojo internally cursed himself, thinking it was game over—you’d probably tell him you’ve got to go and never call him back; but you did.

you called him and told him you missed him the following day. that sweet voice of yours he was so relieved to hear.

as a child, people would often call gojo strange looking—his piercing blue eyes already made him intimidating. people would barely look at him; so when there were six of them, it was even harder to make conversation. you guessed a long time ago that that was why he started wearing shades.

people could never look at him directly, but with you—it was a different problem altogether. you just couldn’t stop looking, always telling him how pretty his eyes were. he would find it hard to believe with the way he’d grown up, but it’s undeniable he feels comfortable showing it to you; sometimes feeling all right to go out without his sunglasses on.

“yeah, i know.” gojo’s smile is soft. he leans down and wraps his arms around your waist, resting his jaw on your shoulder and swaying you left to right. “you tell me that all the time.”

it’s cheesy sunday mornings like this you look forward to.

it’s been an hour since you’ve woken up and gojo insisted on helping you finish cleaning—it’s pointless, though: because you two end up on the couch, looking at childhood photos of yourselves—with the occasional embarrassing story time.

at the end of the day, nothing is clean and you two are still on the couch: except gojo is snoring and you’re on top of him with your face buried in his chest, trying to fall asleep despite the inconsiderate noise—photo albums sprawled out on the coffee table.

211023 — this is so bad i’m sorry… TT

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neoarchipelago · 1 year

Text

And they were Roommates (part 13)

A/N: YOU GUYS ARE UNHINGED this tag list is endless!!!! also i recieved my first tips and full on cried for like 3 hours!!! you guys are absolutely amazing!! here's more spicy shit

Warnings: 18+ MINORS GO AWAY? SPICEY SHIT ADULT CONTENT SEX (f!reader) talk of abuse, death

You woke up wrapped in sheets and you recognized them perfectly. You were sore. You looked around the room. The perfect room. Your room. You sighed. It promised something you were slightly scared of. You wanted to close your eyes but the sound that had woken you up brought you back to reality.

Simon yelling.

You threw away the covers, standing up. Perhaps trying to stand up was a better definition of your action. Your shaky legs made you sit back on the bed, taking a few seconds before finally standing. Once up you stretched a bit. You looked into your mirror noticing the little bruises and bites on your body, flashbacks of the night clouding your mind.

You shook your head a bit, the yelling from downstairs making your anxiousness spike. You grabbed a baggy shirt and some panties. You noticed you had been cleaned, the idea making you blush. But you blushed even more, noticing that even cleaned up, you were still wet, probably a mix of you and him. You got dressed before going straight for the door.

When you opened it the sound grew louder. You glanced back at your clock, 7 am before darting down the hallway towards the stairs. You walked down slowly, your legs warning you not to tempt anything too crazy. The voice got clearer each step.

"SERGENT YOU HAD ONE MISSION AND YOU DELIBERATELY FAILED IT."

Fuck. He was angry. And the boys were catching the fire you started.

"Lieutenant-"

"I'LL TAKE CARE OF YOU PERSONALLY KONIG."

No! You hurried the last few stairs, jumping a bit through the hallway, finally stepping into the living room.

Everyone was silent as they turned to you. The boys stood on guard in front of Ghost who had his mask on and was wearing his usual training gear. You guessed he had gone off to run or train and came back still furious. You crossed your arms over your chest looking at him angrily too.

"Shit.. now they're both angry…" soap mumbled, with what he thought was a voice low enough not to be heard.

He was greeted with a death glare from Ghost. You had to do something before he kept tearing into them.

"Boys." They looked at you as if on command. "Please leave us."

The boys hurried out Ghost looking even more furious but this time at you. Konig slowed down as he passed by you and you threw him a sorry look. To your surprise his eyes wrinkled with a smile.

Once the boys were finally out, the front door closed and you looked at him.

"You are commanding my men now?" He questioned walking his way to the kitchen.

"Good morning. I slept well. I'm feeling good, albeit a bit sore but I'm sure you understand why-"

"Stop."

His tone was cold. You sighed.

"Simon…"

He kept his back turned to you.

"Simon. If you don't look at me. If we are not having this conversation. I'm leaving you to eat your brain out." You warned.

He turned slowly, head towards the ceiling before chuckling. The sound brought back even more memories that made you shiver.

"That's a low threat bunny." His voice was raspy, laced with something you were familiar with yet estranged from.

You slowly walked towards him as he did as well, step met step.

"It's not their fault. I went to find you."

"They're trained soldiers. Konig tricked me into letting you in."

"He made you open the door. You. Let me in." You smirked.

"Don't make me take that confidence off of your pretty face."

"Is that a promise… lieutenant ?" You questioned, hands behind your back, feigning innocence.

"You shouldn't have been there. It shouldn't have happened."

That. Hurt a bit. It must have seen it in your face because he closed the space in very few steps.

"This. Was not the first time you deserved. Me fucking you senseless like a fucking animal."

You blushed.

"Repeatedly fucking into you in my bed…" he got closer, the anger and desire mixing together. "In front of my mirror." His arms wrapped around your waist pulling flushed against him. "Against my door for my men to hear you scream that you were going to cum for me."

"S-simon.."

"No."

You closed your eyes. He had not fully come out of his high. You guessed his anger didn't help.

"Ghost. Nothing that happened yesterday was your fault. I came.."

He groaned at that, making you giggle.

"No pun intended but fact shared. Willingly. We had a safeword. I knew what we were getting into. And I'm fine. Please."

He took a few deep breaths before you finally felt his thumbs drawing circles on your lower back.

"How are you feeling?" He asked.

You giggles, getting on your tiptoes to drop a kiss on his clothed lips.

"I'm fine! It was intense… but amazing."

You bit your lip, one of his hands lifting up his mask to kiss you deeply. You moaned against his lips, warmth spreading through you.

"S-simon…"

You tried in between kisses. He groaned in response.

"Are you… still?"

He hummed in agreement. You felt his cock twitch through his pants. You separated, eyes drowning in his.

"It's… still a bit there. But much less. I can… control it now."

You smiled at him.

"Good. I… have to go to the pharmacy…"

You blushed looking away.

"What? Are you? Did I hurt you? Fuck-"

"No no! It's..no. Simon."

He was fully alert, attention glued to your every word as your cheeks felt warm.

"We… there was… no condoms…"

He blinked once. Twice. Before he finally understood.

"Shit… I remember… fuck. You tried to warn me and I.."

He closed his eyes in frustration and you felt your inner brat awaken.

"And you… fucked it right back into me…" his eyes flashed open as you slowly got closer to his lips "you even made sure… to cum again… deep insi-"

He captured your lips again, tongue twisting with yours. He pulled you up, sitting you on the living room table. You grind into him, trapping him in between his legs. Your mind kept screaming to go to the fucking pharmacy, I mean… What was wrong with the both of you?

"Hey! Not in the living room!!!" Soap's voice echoed.

"And not on the table guys!" Gaz added.

You separated, turning your head, watching the three boys, mostly two as Konig tried to hide, looking through the window.

You were embarrassed by the situation but thankful things stopped there.

"Get ready for training!" Ghost called to them as they scurried off.

You smiled at him, pulling his mask down.

"I'll go to the pharmacy… I need the morning pill and I'll grab… a box of condoms." You ended up sending a wink his way as you pushed past him to walk away. He grabbed your arm making you look at him.

"Two."

Your eyes widened as he chuckled walking past you.

You took a deep breath as he disappeared in the hallway, the sound of the front door closing a few seconds later. You decided to eat breakfast before getting ready to go out. At least you didn't need babysitters anymore.

You weren't exactly fond of waking up early. You had passed at the pharmacy, taken the pill immediately with some water and bought the boxes of condoms. It had been embarrassing to ask the pharmacist for… 'bigger' condoms. The look he gave you, or especially your chest made you frustrated before you realized he was looking at the dog tags around your neck. He visibly paled before asking you if you needed anything, that you could ask for his help at any time.

It made you smile. Even his dog tags created fear in people. You had decided to go shopping afterwards, it was something that made you relax, plastic therapy. Your phone had rang around 11, Melissa calling you to invite you to lunch with her and Amy and you had happily agreed.

You had met at a restaurant, the little girl jumping into your arms as soon as she saw you.

"Hey honey!"

She giggled as you planted a kiss on her cheek. You looked at Melissa as she smiled at you. You could feel something off.

"Hey darling, are you ok?"

She nodded, looking at Amy. You understood immediately that it wasn't something she wanted to talk about in front of the child. You nodded back, grabbing her hand and squeezing softly.

"Whatever it is, get it out of your mind for now. I'm right here." You told her.

She smiled looking at you like you had just relieved her of the world's weight.

You walked inside sitting at one of the tables. Your phone buzzed, Simon texting you.

You good?

Yes, I'm lunching with Melissa and Amy 😜

Lucky you, be careful, text me if you need anything.

Yes lieutenant

Good girl.

You smiled before getting your attention back to your friend. She smiled at you, a sad look on her face. You frowned.

"You're coming home with me after lunch. You'll spend the afternoon with us."

She opened her mouth to protest but you cut her off.

"No.. don't worry. Amy will love playing with the boys."

You smiled at her as she relaxed a bit.

"Let's order! Lunch is on me!"

After lunch Melissa asked you to keep Amy as she needed to pass by base before heading to your house. You had accepted, telling her you'd text Price as he was on base and would bring her home. She had firstly refused but eventually gave up under your insistence. You had called Price who had agreed without a blink.

You had let her go to her occupation as you walked to Simon's car. He had let you take it today as he went to work with the rest of the squad. You were lucky to have it as the car seat was still in the back. You sat the little girl in the car seat. She was oddly quiet.

"Y/n?" She asked.

"Yes darling ?" You said with a smile.

"Who Ewic?"

You froze. You looked at the little girl trying to figure out why she was speaking this name.

"Hum… honey. Where did you hear that name?"

The little child fidgeted with her plushie.

"Hey hey… it's alright. You're ok baby. I'm not mad at you. I'm just curious." You tried with the softest voice and tone possible, passing a thumb over her cheek..

"Mommy was tawlkin on the phone with somwone. She said Ewic was out. Is it a puppy?"

Her eyes lit up with a light that made your heart ache. You knew exactly who it was. And you fully understood Melissa's anxiousness now.

"Listen monkey. Eric is not a nice person. But. Now that you told me, I'm going to make sure he's not coming near you or mommy ever." You answered with a wink.

"Promise?"

"I promise my Love."

You buckled her up, your mind running wild. You had to call Laswell as soon as possible but obviously not with Amy around. The little mouse seemed to enjoy eavesdropping.

"Ready to go see your boys?"

"YES!"

You smiled buckling up yourself before turning the key, the engine roaring.

Parking in front of the garage you sighed. Amy had fallen asleep in the car and you didn't want to wake her up. You got out of the car walking around it to open her door. You freed her trying to remain as quiet as possible. When you picked her up you amazed yourself at how deep in her sleep she was. It made you smile. You walked to the front door, trying to open the door with your free hand. When it finally opened you were greeted by many loud voices. You closed your eyes mentally cursing them.

You put her head to make sure one of her ears was blocked by your shoulder and the other by your hand as you held her head. You closed the door with your feet and walked to the living room to the men. As soon as they saw you, you shushed them, now pointing at the sleeping child. The room immediately went silent, Simon walking to you.

"She fell asleep in the car…" you whispered with a smile.

"Let's lay her down on the couch.. I'll keep the volume down."

You nodded with another smile. You walked further into the room heading for the couch, the boys surrounding you when you reached it. You very slowly and softly put the child on the couch, taking off the shoes and her coat. You thought she might wake up for a second. You heard the men literally stop breathing and then release their breath when she went back to her dreams. You wanted to laugh. You bit your lip to avoid it. Gaz had brought a blanket and soap handed you her little plushie.

You covered her and placed her little teddy next to her. Everyone was fixating on the child, whispering how adorable and cute she looked. You looked at Ghost who stood, arms crossed behind the couch, eyeing his men. You smiled walking around the couch to him. He glanced at you and you put your hand on his bicep.

"Simon… relax. She's a sound sleeper, they won't wake her up."

He looked around before nodding. He visibly relaxed as you headed for the kitchen. You dropped your coat on the chair softly. You put the kettle on, dying for some warm tea. Simon followed you, leaning against the counter behind you.

"Any news on the cartel?" You asked in a low voice.

"We have some Intel, yes. Thanks to your help we might have a few clues but we need more info." He explained.

You nodded.

"How are you feeling?" You asked.

"Better. It's out of my system." He paused for a second. "Thank you for helping…"

You smirked, stepping closer to him only inches from his face.

"Thank you for my mind wrecking orgasms…" you whispered.

You actually saw his pupils widen. You bit you lip.

"Any fucking time. I'd kill to hear you moan my rank or my name again…" he wrapped his arms around you.

"You don't have to kill, just ask silly" you chuckled, trying to keep your voice low.

You kissed him through the mask as his eyes softened.

"So precious… fuck I'm so lucky."

You blushed, hiding your face in his chest.

"I'm the lucky one…" you mumbled.

"Let's agree to disagree on that…"

You wanted to talk back on that but the front door opened and Melissa and Price's voices were heard. You winked at Simon as you separated from him. Melissa walked in with Price.

"Well it's aw-"

"SHUUUU"

You wanted to laugh at the men's reaction. Price looked very confused so you pointed at the couch. Melissa and Price walked to it and their smiles grew.

"Oh… sorry." He whispered.

"You know, she's quite a sound sleeper. I vacuum during her nap, you guys can talk normally." Melissa said with a laugh in a perfectly normal voice. Everyone smiled but kept the volume to a minimum. Even the TV remained pretty quiet compared to the usual. You had made tea for you and Ghost and coffee for Price and Melissa and sat at the table with them. Ghost and Price engaged in small talk about the mission, nothing new or too important. Melissa was fidgeting with her fingers, something that Amy had gotten from her mother.

"Melissa. You ok?" You asked.

She took a deep breath. She grabbed the folder she had with her. You frowned as you only noticed it now. She must have picked it up at the base. She opened it, grabbing a few pieces of paper held together by a staple. She handed it to you and you noticed her hand shaking a bit. The full action caught Price's and Ghost's attention. You took it in your hand and looked down, reading it. Your blood ran cold as you read the title.

CHILD GUARDIAN CONSENT FORM

You looked at her, your eyes already burning with tears. She smiled at you as she started to tear up too.

"No… no. Don't do this to me…"

You felt your heart break. Yes. You were extremely honored that she would ask this of you. But you knew why she was asking it. She was preparing for the possibility that she might not be there for her daughter anymore. That she won't be there to see her grow up. You let the papers drop to the table as you hid your face in your hands now fully on crying.

"Oh no.. no sweetheart… I am so sorry…" you heard.

Her voice was laced with her own crying as she stood to hug you. You dropped your hands now leaning against her as she hugged you tightly. Ghost had grabbed the papers, a worried look on his face. His face melted into something you didn't fully understand.

"Hey. Hey. Please."

You looked at her. Both crying.

"I need you to sign these. I'm begging you. You're the only one I would ever trust with my child if I died."

"Don't fucking say that, damn Melissa…"

You wanted to cry even more. You know this. You knew this situation and this feeling too well. The flashbacks of you, alone in an empty apartment, haunted by memories and voices of lost ones, made your throat ache.

"I know… I know you've lost so much… and I'm so sorry I have to ask you this. But… this is a reality we can't ignore."

You looked away. The worried looks of Soap, gaz and Konig met yours. They stood frozen, alert. It hit you that you had just burst into tears in the middle of the living room. You looked at Price, who now had the papers in hand. He sent you a sad, understanding look.

You wiped your tears turning back to the woman in front of you. Smiling at Melissa.

"I'll sign it. You know I will. But please. You have to tell me what's going on with Eric."

She visibly paled again but nodded. She sat down again, next to you this time.

"Do you want us to be alone?" You asked.

She looked at the men around.

"It's… fine. At this point." She chuckled sourly.

The boys got nearer now surrounding the table.

"Eric… has been given permission out of jail."

You grabbed her hand in yours.

"Who's Eric?" Soap asked in a serious tone.

You looked at her, squeezing her hand to remind her you were there.

"Eric was… my ex-husband and Amy's father." She started. "We separated because… he was…"

"An asshole." You added.

They all seemed to understand the underlined evidence. You saw Soap's jaw clench and the rest of the team tense up.

"After.. quite a rough episode, he was sentenced to jail.. he was more than violent towards me.. he was violent towards everyone. He ended up killing someone in a bar fight." She explained.

You already knew this story. It still made you absolutely furious.

"Melissa. I won't let him come near you. You know that." You said seriously.

She smiled at you brightly.

"I know I know. But it brought many scenarios to my mind and… i realized that even if he was still locked up, my job is already dangerous enough. I could never have him keep her if I d-... Hum… if something happened."

You sighed.

"Don't worry. We'll keep you both safe." Konig said.

"Yeah, no worries." Gaz added with a smile.

"And if it puts your mind at peace. If anything ever happened to you. Your little girl is safe with us." Price added.

You nodded. She teared up again, this time you got up to hug her, holding her close to your chest.

"Thank you… really…"

You held her tight.

It took a little moment for her to calm down. Once she did you sat down again, grabbing the papers. You took a deep breath and the pen Soap was handing you and you filled the form, dropping your signature at the bottom of the pages.

Melissa looked at you with eyes full of appreciation.

"You are having dinner with us. No questions." You finally said.

"And we'll bring you home." Price added.

She tried to say something but you hushed her. She smiled, finally nodding.

"Let's lighten up the mood!" Soap said.

"Yes! Come on, let's play cards."

The evening went by calmly. Amy had woken up from her nap and was absolutely thrilled to be with her men. She had a particular affection for her grandpa today, much to Ghost's dismay.

"Guys guys guys!" Soap called after dinner.

"There's a bar club that opened at the base. We should check it out!"

You smirked, looking at Melissa.

"That sounds amazing no?"

"Ah ah ah… I have a daughter… I can't." She argued.

"I can keep the young princess. She'll stay with her grandpa." Price offered.

Amy squealed in happiness, Price now fully embracing his new rank.

"Come on. You need to relax too." You tried again.

"Y/N… i don't even have anything to wear…"

"Yes you do! Come on, I'll lend you something." You said hugging her.

You let go as she laughed. You looked at Ghost.

"Shall we?"

He sighed, but nodded.

You jumped, so happy to find a moment of peace in this very wild life of yours.

"Come on darling, let's go!"

You grabbed her hand passing by Amy as you both hugged and kissed her cheek even though she was in deep explanation of why Mr Fred Lego is the best tiger tamer of the many Legos lying on the floor. Price glued to her every word.

You walked up the stairs with Melissa getting into your room.

"I'm sure we can find something for you to wear!" You said with a big smile.

You took a long 30 minutes to enjoy going over the pieces of clothing and chatting. You could feel you were both trying to erase the odd feeling that remained. The pain and sadness that was laced with every laugh or little joke.

You ended up choosing a one piece jumpsuit styled like a business woman. It hugged her mommy curves perfectly and it made you whistle at her just to make her blush.

She had chosen a pair of black ripped jean shorts, a black tank top sweatshirt and some black combat boots. You had mentioned you looked like an angsty teenager while she looked like a professional queen. She had laughed at that. You had a pair of tights because it was fresh outside. Once both were ready you had skipped downstairs, happily looking at the boy's new clothing.

Soap was dressed in dark blue and black with jeans, a t-shirt and a bomber. Gaz had gone full out with his clothes, black button up shirt and classy pants. Konig was in black cargo pants, a black sweatshirt. He had a black beanie. He looked like a teenager too. Simon…

Simon caught your breath. He was wearing black jeans and combat boots. Black sweatshirt with a leather jacket. He was wearing his usual skull mask and skeleton gloves. You skipped over to him, biting your lip.

"Hey…" you winked at him.

"Are you trying to flirt with me?" He teased.

"Absolutely." You smirked.

"Good." He winked back, wrapping an arm around your waist. "I got a little surprise for you."

You tilted your head to the side, suddenly curious.

"Let's go!" Soap chimed.

You all waved at Price and Amy, who's eyes were looking heavier by the minute but kept stubbornly trying to focus on the book Price was reading.

You headed towards the garage, Soap gaz Konig and Melissa getting into a car while Simon walked you a bit further. They left leaving you with Simon as you finally noticed 'his surprise'.

"You.. have a bike?!" You jumped happily.

He chuckled.

"I do. I can see you like it."

You nodded frantically.

"Since when?? I never saw it before!"

"It was in storage in another base. They shipped it here. It arrived this afternoon." He explained.

He grabbed a bag, handing it over to you. You dropped your hand inside pulling out the object. You gasped, a huge smile on your lips.

"You bought me a helmet?! WITH FLUFFY BUNNY EARS?!"

You looked at the black helmet, white fluffy plush ears falling on either side. They will probably fly in the wind. You jumped in his arms catching him off guard.

"Thank you!!!"

He wrapped his arms tightly around you. You dropped a kiss on his cheek, noticing how his eyes didn't leave your lips. You kissed him through the mask teasing him.

"Lift it up."

You shook your head no.

"Bunny. Want to feel your lips."

You melted, lifting up his mask. He immediately caught your lips, kissing you deeply. You sighed, feeling like the world vanished. His tongue asked for access that you were not in position to deny. The kiss deepened, making your head spin a little.

"Shit…" he cursed.

You wanted to laugh. The way it was so easy to work him up.

"Simon…" you tried in between kisses.

He groaned at your call.

"We… have… to go." You giggled.

He finally freed your lips but not your waist.

"We could stay… I'll take good care of you…"

The promise was thrilling. But you also wanted to spend time with Melissa.

"How about… we make a deal."

He frowned under the mask.

"We go out… I rile you up. If you can manage to wait to be home to fuck me… you can do whatever you want to me…"

He held you tighter, you could feel his cock twitch in his pants.

"If you can't… I get to do whatever I want with you…" you smirked at him.

"Oh bunny…" he chuckled, the dark vibe of it back. "That's a win win…"

"Never said it wasn't… let's just see… if you can handle it." You winked.

He shook his head, his eyes clearly showing a smirk under his mask.

"Alright then. Helmet on. You hop on behind me bunny."

He let go of you and you hurried to obey him. You put your helmet on, as he took place on the bike. You climbed up behind him as he turned on the bike. It roared loudly, the echo of the garage making it even more exciting. He brought your hands to his waist but you decided to tease him and bring them back to your knees. He shook his, rearing up the bike. You fell backwards, quickly wrapping your arms around his waist. You saw his head move in a 'thought so' movement that not only made you want to fuck him right on the spot but also curse him out.

The garage door opened as he drove out slowly. Once on the road he made sure to squeeze your hands, warning you to hold on tight. He sped up, one of his hands reaching back to hold your tight. Fuck was it hot. Suddenly your little challenge felt complicated, even for you.

Once you reached the bar, you were almost out of breath. The adrenaline had made your heart beat much faster than it should.

You hopped off the bike, meeting up the rest of the group. Melissa was watching you with wide eyes and a mouth agape. You took off your helmet, smiling at her.

"Shit! You're so lucky!!!" She smiled.

"I know!!!" You yelled.

"Are those bunny ears on your helmet?" Soap asked.

You smiled jumping up and down looking back at Simon. He shook his head again but you knew he was probably smiling under the mask. You left it in Soap's car and headed inside the bar with everyone, Simon not leaving your side.

The music and talking was loud. Two pool tables were placed at the back of the bar. Some people were dancing, others played darts. Tables with seats were available as well. You all walked to a table, a bit more secluded trapped in between seats. You all sat down as Gaz and Soap decided to go to the bar to get everyone's drinks. They ordered before coming back to sit down.

Everyone indulged themselves in a nice chatter. Ghost was sitting next to you, arms around your shoulders on the seat. You had leaned against him. He had reached for your neck to take out his tags from underneath your clothes so they were visible. You had rolled your eyes before meeting Melissa's gaze as wiggled her eyebrows.

You were so happy to spend time with her. You got to chat and joke with her. It was exactly what you both needed to forget the sad conversation of the evening. She was now talking to Gaz and Konig, debating about some military thing that you weren't really familiar with. You smiled to yourself. She was happy, and that made you happy.

You decided to start playing around. Your hand traveled to Simon's thigh as he was talking with soap. He tensed under your touch but kept talking. You let your hand travel up and down, caressing it. The more you did the closer you got to his crotch. Soap had turned his attention to Gaz for a minute. Simon lowered his head to whisper in your ear.

"You're playing with fire, little one…"

"Am I?" You asked with an innocent look.

Your hand cupped his cock through his pants. He closed his eyesbrows furrowing. Your plan was working and you were proud of it. You wondered how he'll react once you'll be home together. He opened his eyes, staring right into you.

"Give me a reason not to fuck you in the bathroom right now…"

You almost choked in your own spit. You bit your lip.

"You'll lose our game…"

He cocked his head to the side as you pumped him through his pants.

"Shit… you're right. Can't wait to do everything I want with you bunny…"

A shiver ran down your spine making you swallow hard.

You decided to stop completely, his eyes confused. You got up from the table, excusing yourself to go get another drink. You made sure to sway your hips for him, because you just knew, he was staring at you. You reached the bar, ordering another cocktail. You were patiently waiting for your drink when a voice interrupted.

"Hey there pretty girl."

You rolled your eyes. You glanced at the man to your left. You made sure to make the dog tags visible.

"What's a sexy girl like you doing at the bar?" He asked with a wink.

"I'm out with some friends and my boyfriend." You tried. You wanted to remain civil. But also wanted him to back off.

"Ooohh… you got someone?"

You nodded, turning back to the bar, now hoping the bartender would hurry.

"I don't see him though… he left you all alone?"

"No. I just wanted another drink." You were getting annoyed now.

"Who's that boyfriend of yours?"

You wanted to answer when another voice interrupted.

"Me."

The guy turned around as you bit your lip not to laugh.

"Hi. I'm the fucking boyfriend."

You quickly realized that the situation was much more tense than you had expected. He was mad. Angry.

The guy asked, stumbling over his words, trying to apologize. You watched as Simon clenched his fists. You hoped over to him, putting your hands over his chest. He immediately wrapped his arms around you.

"Simon… it's alright…" you whispered to him.

The guy was still trying to stutter something.

"Fuck off." He ordered.

The poor boy ran right off, not waiting for another order.

"Simon.. You ok?"

He was furious. You could feel it. He still nodded. Soap and the group joined you two. You realized the whole bar was staring, though trying not to be obvious. You had to be honest. Seeing him angry, possessive like this turned you on more than you'd ever admit it out loud.

"Perhaps we should head home?" Soap said with an obvious amused smile.

Simon turned to him.

"Don't make me smack you in front of all these people." He warned.

Soap lost his smile, but Gaz laughed out loud.

"Let's go." You asked, looking at Simon.

He nodded. Soap and Gaz decided to pay, and followed you out.

The fresh air felt good against your warm skin. While you grabbed your helmet in the car, Simon was already on the bike. Melissa winked at you, as she got in the car. You put the helmet on, taking place behind him on the engine.

"Hold tight." He warned.

Shit…

He sped out of the parking lot. You had to hold on really tight to remain there. He had grabbed your thigh again, making sure you felt safe. You knew what he needed. He needed to blow some steam off. You might be risking a lot, but you decided to tempt him. Your hands grabbed at his thighs, he tensed under your touch. He picked up speed. You squeezed his hardening cock through his pants. The hand on your thigh caressed up and down.

He turned a sharp left, definitely not in the direction of the house. You finally stopped in an empty location in the middle of the base, hidden in between warehouses.

"Hop off!" He ordered.

You obeyed immediately, taking off your helmet. He killed the engine, grabbing you immediately.

"That was dangerous bunny."

Shit… you had managed to make him even more angry.

"I'm… sorry… i just wanted to-"

"No."

What? He grabbed your helmet and placed it on the bike. He lifted his mask, capturing your lips. The heat rose very fast, your back hitting a metallic wall. He picked you up like you were nothing, your legs wrapping around his waist.

"Fuck… you drive me insane…" he cursed.

Your heart skipped a beat. He decided that your neck needed more decoration, sucking and licking there, making sure to leave pretty little marks behind. You moaned, the pain mixing with pleasure. He grinded his hips against yours, his obvious erection rubbing against your clit through the clothes.

"S-simon…" you whined.

He put you down again, making sure you stood on your feet. He opened your shorts, dropping them down.

"Simon! What… if someone sees us?" You worried.

"I'll fucking kill them."

You gasped. He ripped through the tights. Fuck this man was impatient.

"I'll take you shopping." He said as if he heard your thoughts.

He definitely will, you'll make sure of it.

He dropped to his knees, your panties following your shorts. With his mask still lifted he kissed your folds. You moaned, anticipation coursing through you.

"Such a pretty pussy… mine.." he growled.

His tongue licked through your folds, the wave of pleasure making you grab onto his shoulders.

"Ooohh.. fuck" you moaned.

His tongue slowly loved your clit, the pleasure making your blood heat up.

You were getting wetter and wetter but fuck, he kept eating you out like a starved man. Your legs shook. He sucked on your clit making you whine. He was building your orgasm like bob the fucking builder and he knew it. The eye contact was a nice 'i know you like what my tongue is doing to you'.

"Simon… I.. I want to cum…"

He groaned against your cunt, the vibration only helping the knot in your stomach tightening. He slipped his arms under your thighs making you legs rest on his shoulders. You yelped as your feet lifted up the ground. Your hips were firmly secured in his hands. It would forever amuse and amaze you how this man could lift you up like you weighed absolutely nothing.

You could relax now, and your orgasm was peeking around.

"S-simon.. I'm gon-na… fuuuuuck…"

He had the talent to leave you a stuttering mess. His tongue flattened, pushing on your clit and circling. You let your head fall back, your orgasm crashing over you. You were loud, moaning his name. He let you ride your orgasm on his tongue. Once you were finally stable he put you on the ground again. He rose, chin dripping, making you blush. He wiped his mouth with his clothes, eyes never leaving yours. You heard the sound of his belt unbuckling, the shear sound of it making you clench around nothing.

He freed himself, his thick cock already leaking. He reached for your hips listing you up so you could wrap your legs around him. You held on tights to his shoulders as he walked over to his bike, sitting you on it. His Tim's pressed against your entrance as he eyed you, asking for permission. You instantly nodded as you bit your lip. You felt him buck his hips slowly, the tip slipping in.

"Fuuuck… so tight…" he moaned.

And you remembered.

"S-imooon…" you tried, the name getting lost in a moan.

He kept inching more and more into your heat, getting lost in the feeling of your walls around him.

"Simon!"

He stopped. Awaiting for orders.

"We.. don't have a condom!" You whined.

What was it with you two? Were you that irresponsible? You watched his pupils widen.

"Shit…" he cursed.

His hips bucked, his cock burying itself even more.

You threw your head back, a long moan escaping your lips.

"We.. should stop." He said.

You nodded. Your eyes begging for something entirely different. He inched himself deeper.

"We.." deeper. "Really" deeper. "Should." Incredibly deeper. "Stop." He bottomed out.

You felt so full, your wall pulsating around him already. He refused to move. He was panting, trying to hold himself back from fucking you senseless.

Your body moved on his own grinding against him to feel some kind of friction. He grunted, his hips slowly meeting yours.

"This.. is… a stupid, thing… to do." He warned.

"Pull… out… then."

His hips thrusted more and more, a pace quickly creating itself. It felt primal, like your minds were screaming for this to stop, that it was wrong… forbidden. Your reasons only building up the excitement. His hands met your hips, keeping you steady as he was now fully pounding you on his bike. You were moaning, his name and curses a prayer your lips were getting addicted to.

His eyes were the most sinful thing you ever laid eyes on. The deep dark orbs worshiping you as he fucked you in a forbidden pace.

You were damned. You must be. Because your mind and body were only kneeling for him. He had full power, full control over you. If this man worshiped you, you were merely his shadow.

You chanted his name again and again, your high building again. His own pace became rough, the bike shaking. You could feel he was close too.

"Ah…fuck! Si-" you choked on his name as he made sure to pound your G-spot.

"You.. should… FUCK. Pull out…" you tried.

You were dripping. His balls slammed against your ass while you tried to maintain a bit of moral compass in this. To your dismay, the knot breaking deep inside you washed over your moral and consciousness like a tidal wave.

"Yes.. i… Should.." he growled, quickening his pace.

You were lost in your high when you were caught by surprise by another orgasm rolling through you. Your mind barely processing it.

"Gonna cum baby…" he grunted, panting and moaning.

He should pull out. Fuck he should. But your legs wrapped around him tight, your orgasm controlling you. He didn't seem like he wanted to fight it either. His cock twitched inside you, two deep thrusts making it spill deep inside you. Your clenching walls milking him.

You remained like that as you tried to catch your respective breaths.

"Fuck.." he cursed.

"Fuck.. indeed…" you added.

"What's fucking wrong with me.." he scolded himself.

"You?... What's fucking wrong with us!" You scolded too.

He pulled out of you, watching his cum drip down on his bike and the ground. You watched it too, the sight sending shivers down you spine. You saw his cock twitch again.

"Simon!" You scolded.

He cursed loudly before shoving his cock back in his boxers and pants. He helped slip your shorts on again.

"We need condoms on us all the time." He said.

"Perhaps we should stop fucking everywhere and anywhere?" You proposed, not believing it one second yourself.

He chuckled.

"Don't laugh Simon!" You tried, your lips betraying yourself.

"Let's go home. Everyone's waiting." He said.

"Yeah… I'll go to the doctor tomorrow to see if maybe I can take the pill… you seem to love… filling me up." You announced.

"Fucking hell…" he cursed.

You could see in his eyes that your words were turning him on again. You placed the tip of your boot on his chest.

"No! Simon!"

He looked at your feet, eyes smirking. This man was fucking feral. He wrapped his wrist around your ankle lowering it. He grabbed your helmet from the ground, dusting it off and handing it to you.

"Let's go home. I need to fuck you again."

1K notes · View notes

whorediaries-09 · 30 days

Text

say it's unforgivable

pairing- sirius black x auror!reader warning(s)- hurt/comfort. a/n- heads up, maa and papa refer to james' mum and dad :)

little train. series masterlist.

the moment he gets up from the metal chair, he realizes he's doomed. his heart aches. he has nowhere to go. with maa and papa dead he's stuck, stranded upon the lonely crevice of life. as the minutes pass by, he stands, watching as the others leave. dumbledore sits still, physically calm.

'is there anything you need to say dumbledore?' he watches as the old man slowly creeps from the chair, descending near him. he stands before sirius, his icy blue eyes hovering over his ragged form.

'the man you are sirius, i expect you'll go and try to track down harry?' he asks him, his voice low. 'i save you trouble, harry is within the safe realms of his aunt and uncle.'

'aunt and uncle?'

'lily's sister and husband.'

'WHAT!'

'calm down, he's safe. that's the only way to keep him safe. the blood connection between petunia and lily. petunia knows about this, always has known about this. she's promised to not hurt harry and keep him within safe and secure conditions until he turns into an adult.'

'i don't care dumbledore. i need to see harry potter. he's my godson, i am his legal guardian. not petunia, not her husband.'

'i know.' dumbledore's eyes twinkle for a few moments before he runs his bony hands through his long beard.

'you can join hogwarts as an assistant healer. with all the incidences you had with remus lupin, i'm sure you've got a trick or two up your sleeve.' sirius gulps.

'what?'

'you can see harry in 5 years when he joins hogwarts.'

'no. i need to see my godson now.'

'you will, when you get yourself together. take some time off for yourself sirius.'

'i don't care. i need to see him and check whether he's okay. i need to know. i don't trust petunia with how she treated lily. i need to make sure he's okay. the last time i trusted you albus, i was thrown into prison and my freedom was stolen away from me. not again will i let this happen. i'm leaving, albus.'

he sits beside the coffee counter, shimmying through newspapers. ever since he'd been released, the press was after him. not wanting more attention than he'd already gotten, he decided he'd keep to the muggle world for the time being. that meant being closer to spotting harry and staying away from attention.

for the time he'd been in the wizarding world, within the creepy turns of diagon alley, hagrid had returned him his motorbike. he'd hugged the giant man, thanking him. within the span, he'd also found his mother had died a year back, leaving him to be the heir of the noble house of black. when he'd been left alone with the information of his death mother, he left a pang of joy in his heart, followed by guilt.

he loved his mother, but his mother never did. it wasn't his fault, but he couldn't help but love her. or perhaps it was pity he felt for her, for she had been through the same as him. but it was him who felt the need to break free from the abuse. he hated he had to make her feel like a failed mother. while he felt guilty for feeling joy for losing her, he certainly didn't miss her. no, he was the one who got away.

he crushes the butt of the smoked cigarette, ready to explore the city of london after years of being shrouded in darkness. the need to escape from the darkness still gathers him into a haze of melancholy. he wanted to feel the cold air ripping through his locks, nipping at his skin. he wanted to see the city lights pass by as he fulfilled the need of fresh air filling up his flesh. he may not have yet found a place to stay, but he didn't feel the need to be confined within four walls.

the bell chimes again. a thursday evening didn't see many customers, the cafe deprived of hustle, resulting in a quiet cafe. the bell caught his attention, so he turned his head, watching at the door. his heart skipped a few beats, as a familiar face walked into the cafe. it was his savior.

'a salted caramel latte and a butter cookie, please,' you said to the barista, passing down the bills to fulfil the payment. he walked up to you, his heart bleeding with gratitude.

'hi,' he said, catching your attention. you brushed strands of hair behind your ear, smiling at him.

'hi, mr. black.' he knitted his brows together.

'psst! don't call me that, call me sirius.' he bent down, leaning into your ear, 'i'm out of azkaban solely because of you.' you smiled at him picking up your latte and cookie that the barista slipped across the counter.

'trust me, mr. - sirius i stand for justice.' he crumpled his fingers together, putting his hand into his pockets.

'i agree with you. uhm... fancy a walk perhaps?' he asked. your eyes brandished slowly over his features, your mind seemingly reeling with questions.

'i never thought the sirius black would walk. didn't you drive a motorbike?' he grinned, his eyes lighting up. this was the first time he'd felt the joy after so many years- he allowed himself to relish it, because there was no darkness to shroud his joy into melancholy.

'i do drive one. how did you know?' pushing open the door of the cafe, you walked into the fresh night air, as he followed you. taking a sip of your latte you replied vaguely,

'that, sirius is for me to know, and you to guess.' he grinned, seemingly enjoying your teasing behavior.

'so, you don't fancy a walk,' he stated, putting his hands into his pockets. your eyes raked over him, taking in his starkly contrasting appearance from the day you'd last seen him. within the glow of the streetlight, his high cheek bones and razor sharp jaw underneath porcelain skin rubbed with a soft stubble reflected upon his features. he was wearing a black t-shirt paired with beige slacks. he had cleaned up well within the few days. the air had already been of great favor to him.

'don't you have anyone waiting for you, sirius?' his gray eyes stared into yours before he whispered a quiet no.

'are you sure sirius? or are you too eager within your emotions of gratitude?'

'i hate how you can read through me so easily, sweetheart. but you're partly incorrect, i actually have been sitting alone here, shimmying over the things i've missed.' he moved closer to you.

'i don't think you should spent time alone, sirius. you need other people's company. human's are driven by the presence of other humans, you should be reminded of your roots, of your presence of mind. you'll go insane if you sit alone, secluded.'

'and here you are declining me a walk with you. you're human aren't you? we can interact. either ways, i've asked remus to meet me tomorrow. he says yes.' you laughed, the sound echoing amongst the cars and motorbikes which honked along the streets of london.

'so, what do you say?'

'i'm sure i could also do with a little bit of company,' you replied. your voice was low and soft, like a cool breeze amongst the salty waves of the sea. he smiled at you, wrinkles of a chronicle scarring beside his eyes. he moved closer, standing by you.

'so where shall we go?'

'where ever the city takes us.'

the city reeked of driving him crazy. till it was one hell of a drug, so he could use it up.

****************************************

original idea posted by - @lilwnet

taglist - @reggieisfit @siriuslycaptainofthedawntreader @jamespottergf @eternallybipanicking @fictional-magic @iamgayforyourmom1510

taglist (for series) - @urbansaint

(if you want to be tagged please send a request through my inbox.)

****************************************

#harry potter fanfiction #harry potter #marauders #sirius black #sirius x reader #sirius black smut #the marauders #sirius black x reader #sirius black imagine #marauders era #sirius black thoughts #sirius black x oc #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black fanart #sirius being sirius #sirius black fluff #sirius black angst #fanfiction #james & peter & remus & sirius

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autisticlancemcclain · 1 year

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“Psst. Shiro. Shiro. You awake? Shiro?”

If there is anyone, out there, who has just had their car stolen by a punk kid who reminds them to much of themselves, Shiro would like them to know:

Do not adopt the punk kid. The punk kid will grow into a punk young adult who does not know boundaries and loves to bother you in the dead of the fucking night, because heaven forbid he solve his own problems.

“Keith. I am going to kill you.”

“I have a question,” Keith insists, entirely unafraid of Shiro’s very real and very genuine threat.

Shiro groans loudly, grabbing a pillow and shoving it over his head. Maybe if he holds it steadily it will suffocate him to death. “Fuck off. Please.”

Ignoring him even further, Keith climbs over Shiro’s body, kneeing him in the spleen, like a cat perhaps, and settling down next to him. “I have a question,” he says again.

He has his stubborn voice on, because of fucking course he does. Shiro is not going to be successful in ignoring him.

He groans again, much louder this time, and drags himself out from under the blankets. He glares at his brother as nastily as he can, seriously considering beating him to death with his pillow. Keith must read the look in his eyes, because he scooches back slightly.

“Did I ever tell you that you’re a punk fucking kid?“

“More times than I can count physically,” Keith says pleasantly. “You may have called me that more than my name, actually. I have a lot of intense psychological trauma about it.”

Shiro laughs despite himself, breaking the unspoken game between them. The smile finally breaks free on Keith’s face, wide and boyish and frustrating.

Shiro has to give him a noogie. Like, contractually.

“Aw, Shiro, fuck off! You’re gonna mess up my hair!”

“Can’t mess up the already messy,” Shiro taunts, making sure to cause at least three tangles. Keith makes a freaky growling noise, like one of those little rat dogs that feels it has been wronged, and the next thing Shiro knows he’s being bitten.

“Jesus — ow, Keith! Unclamp! Bad feral desert child! I’m going to get the fucking spray bottle!” Shiro finally manages to wrestle his arm back, kicking Keith right off the bed and holding a pillow in front of him for protection. “Gollum ass bitch!”

“My precious,” Keith hisses in response, muffled from his place on the floor.

Both of them are silent for a moment, desperately trying to muffle their panting so the other doesn’t know how out of breath the wrestling made them.

God, Shiro wouldn’t give up his punk fucking kid for the world.

“Why did you wake me up, you brat?”

“The team is panicking and I’m not allowed to tell you about it,” Keith explains easily.

Shiro leans over the side of the bed, quirking an amused eyebrow. “So why are you telling me about it?”

Keith shrugs. “Because they’re being stupid! Don’t bother Shiro, Lance says. It’s supposed to be a surprise, Lance says.” Keith scoffs. “I don’t get it. We’re struggling, we need help. Who the fuck else would we ask?”

Shiro opens his mouth, then closes it again. His eyes well up.

“Oh, Shiro, don’t start,” Keith groans, smacking his palm to his forehead. “Dude, come on, it wasn’t that big of a deal —”

“I’m your backup plan,” Shiro wails, trying and failing to contain himself. He buries his face in his hands, shoulders shaking with the force of his cries.

“Aw, you big loser.” Keith crawls back up on the bed, throwing an arm around Shiro’s back and patting gently. He lets Shiro cry himself out for a few minutes, hand rubbing constant circles on Shiro’s back, and then he freezes.

Mischief is suddenly in the air.

“After all,” Keith says, and Shiro can hear the glee in his voice. “you’re six whole years old, today. Practically a grown-up!” His voice gets high-pitched, condescending. “Are we having some big boy feelings there, sport? Are we —”

“I am going to kill you now,” Shiro announces pleasantly, and it’s the only warning Keith gets before he’s tackled to the ground.

———

“I can’t believe you actually tried to kill me,” Keith pouts. He pokes at a bruise on his arm and then looks at Shiro, expression as pitiful as he can make it. “You’re abusive. A bully.”

“Mhm. Shut up.” Keith grumbles when Shiro throws his arm over his shoulders, guiding them down the hallways, but allows it. “You said you had a question, when you woke me up in the dead of the night like a particularly annoying mosquito.”

Keith brightens considerably. “Oh, yeah! Happy birthday. The team is trying to plan you a super secret birthday party, but you usually plan the team birthday parties, so it’s fallen into chaos. Lance keeps trying to climb the cabinets in the kitchen to hang things from the ceiling. When I left Hunk was threatening to shove him in the oven.”

Shiro can’t help his smile, big and wide and goofy. “Is Pidge panicking and reorganizing the kitchen based on a convoluted colour-coding system?”

“Yep.”

“Allura’s smuggling gigantic bottles of glitter into the room and trying to put it everywhere for ‘festive joy and sparkles’?”

“Mhm.”

“Coran is trying to stop her but keeps getting distracted and pulled onto the side of the glitter?”

“Absolutely. She bribed him with orange glitter and he dropped off the rational side immediately.”

“Excellent. Hopefully she’s managed to cover things in pink.”

“Oh, she brought in extra just for you.”

Shiro sniffles again. His arm tightens around his dorky brother, who rolls his eyes at the sound but doesn’t tease him again. “And Hunk? How many people have been smacked with the Spoon of Doom for trying to eat the cake?”

“…None.”

Keith’s shiftiness startles the tears right out of him, and he laughs loudly. “How many times have you been smacked, you sugar fiend?”

“He made you triple chocolate cake!” Keith defends. “I just wanted to quality check!”

“You should tell Hunk you want to ‘quality check’ his stuff. I’d really enjoy seeing him throw you bodily down the hallway.”

“Say, has anyone given you your birthday beats yet? You’re six years old, and there are six of us, so that means you get to get thirty-six —”

“Keith! Shiro!” They’re not even fully in view of the doorway when Lance calls out to them — those freaky bat ears of his, goddamn — and jumps off the counter, just barely managing to not trip and brain himself to death on the floor. He runs over to them, hugging them tightly and then dragging them towards the rest of the team.

“Interesting how you were the first one he called out to,” Shiro mutters, wiggling his eyebrows.

Keith scowls. His ears are red. “Shut up.”

“First one he hugged, too.”

“Choke.”

“Interesting, because it’s my birthday.”

“It’s going to be your last birthday if you don’t shut the fuck up.”

“Is he sparkling? He looks like he’s sparkling. Only when he looks at you, though.”

“Shiro, if you don’t fucking —”

“Everyone! The birthday boy is here!” Lance announces, saving Shiro’s life.

The team greets him enthusiastically, beams and hugs and kisses and, in Allura’s case, a baptism of pink glitter.

“Thank you,” Shiro tells her solemnly. “Both for the glitter shower and for not letting anyone tell you not to. Stick it to the man.”

Allura laughs brightly. “Of course not! The room needs to shine as brightly as you, Shiro darling!”

She sits Shiro down at his seat, everyone taking their seats around him. Hunk brings over the beautiful cake he made, deep and dark and chocolate and no doubt beyond delicious.

There are six and three quarter candles in it.

Shiro glances at his team flatly. “Really?”

“It’s the first of thirteen age related jokes,” Pidge says, grinning. “We each came up with one, and then Keith came up with seven more.”

“Shocking,” Shiro says drily. He shakes his head, unable to fight his smile. “All of you are ungrateful brat children. Even you, Coran.”

“I have forgotten more about being alive than you will ever know, child.”

“Is it because I’m only six?”

Coran claps his hands delightedly. “Yes! That is my joke! Did you like it?”

“I’m going to blow on my candles and wish you were all less annoying,” Shiro says.

He blows out his candles to the backdrop of his heckling team, squeezing his eyes shut. He keeps them closed for a moment, trying to think of something to wish for. He peeks one eye open, taking in his dorky team, wrestling and teasing each other. Pidge is looking dangerously close to grabbing a handful of cake with her bare hands and shoving it in Lance’s hair, because he’s poking her relentlessly over something ridiculous. Hunk is trying to pull him away, poorly concealing his own laughter. Allura and Coran are throwing handfuls of glitter in the air. Keith — that punk kid, Shiro’s best friend and better — has his chin in his hands, staring at Lance and pretending he isn’t.

Shiro smiles, soft and happy and satisfied.

He lets his wish evaporate into the atmosphere.

There’s nothing he wants that he doesn’t already have.

#happy birthday shiro!!#my love #vld #voltron #shiro #takashi shirogane #keith #keith kogane #broganes #pining keith #klance #team as family #big brother shiro #dorky shiro #fluff and humour #my writing #fic #longpost

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exactlycleverpirate · 4 months

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Why Did Rafayel Do That?

My theory on what could have motivated Rafayel's actions, one in particular, in Chapter 7.11.

Spoilers for Main Story, Myth, etc, below.

So, why does Rafayel consider leaving MC to drown?

One possible explanation is that he thinks MC betrayed him, which I touch on in my post What Happened to Lemuria and Rafayel.

However, I find this explanation lacking, and given what we see in his myth, I posit another explanation.

In both the Myth and with current Rafayel, they meet MC as children, and Rafayel makes a vow to seek her out again. And both Rafayels do seek her out late as adults.

In the Myth, Rafayel is conflicted. The God of the Sea has protected the Lemurians since time immemorable, but Rafayel is no longer the God of the Sea and the Seas have dried up. Given how connected Lemurians are to the sea, I don't think it is a stretch to say that without it, they will eventually all die out, or at least fall into eternal slumber.

This is what we learn will happen to Rafayel if he does not get his heart back. He gifted it to MC, but for some reason or other, being disconnected from it appears to have caused the sea to dry up and is causing Rafayel's power and life to fade away. Possibly this is magnified by the fact that all of Philos appears to be leaching immortality off of Rafayel's heart. (Just take a moment to consider with me the possibility that Xavier would not be alive if not for Rafayel.)

So the only known way of resolving this and returning to being the protector for his people that he is supposed to be, is to reclaim his heart from MC, by killing her.

Now, given some of the other parallels between the myth and current Rafayel, let's extend that out.

This Rafayel does not refer to himself as a god, but he does feel responsible for Lemuria and its downfall, as well as for avenging it and protecting the survivors. Louis refers to Lemuria as the Siren's (read Rafayel’s) kingdom. I think it very likely that he is at the very least a prince of Lemuria. I don't think his role has changed from what it was in the myth. He has always been and will always be Lemuria's protector in every life.

But he failed in his current life, and Lemuria has all but been wiped out. I speculate that this is because MC already has Rafayel's heart, and that he has therefore been weakened, leaving Lemuria vulnerable. (Perhaps Lemuria has been is decline in the shadows for hundreds or thousands of years, ever since he first gave her his heart.)

So just as myth Rafayel must contemplate, so too must current Rafayel consider that to save Lemuria, MC needs to die and relinquish his heart. Myth Rafayel seems to genuinely consider whether or not killing MC is the right path, rather than dismissing it out of hand. Perhaps the current Rafayel also is wrestling with this. Maybe if he just let go, just swam away and let nature take its course, maybe he could return to his rightful role and save Lemuria.

But in the end, he cannot do it. He is bound to her and loves her dearly, so even though the cost is high, he is determined to find an alternative.

(Also, MC in the myth has to give her heart to him willingly. Perhaps this is what Rafayel is alluding to when he says that this is MC's "choice" when he rescues her from drowning.)

TLDR: Rafayel has two loves, MC and Lemuria. For both current and Myth Rafayel, these loves come into conflict, and he wrestles with who to save.

What do you think? Does this theory hold water (pun intended)? Am I cookoo for coco puffs? Have your own theory? Let me know in the comments or PM me!

#love and deepspace #rafayel love and deepspace #love and deepspace rafayel #rafayel

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rebeccathenaturalist · 1 year

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What Are Mosquitoes Good For?

Originally posted at my blog at https://rebeccalexa.com/what-are-mosquitoes-good-for/

Now that the weather has cooled down over much of the United States, insects have died back or gone into hibernation for the winter. So you may be tempted to be glad that the mosquitoes have disappeared for the time being. Maybe you even wish they wouldn’t come back next year! After all, they’re just mosquitoes, which annoy us and spread diseases, right? What are mosquitoes good for, anyway?

Much to the surprise of a lot of people, they actually have some pretty important ecological functions, and your local ecosystem would likely suffer if the mosquitoes were all exterminated. So today, I am going to be a mosquito apologist.

What Are Mosquitoes Good For? Food!

You may have seen hundreds or even thousands of mosquito larvae swimming in a pond or other fresh water. Perhaps you thought every single one of them came to find you after they became adults! They certainly are prolific; some species can lay as many as 300 eggs at once.

But this isn’t just because they want to have more young to annoy you, generation after generation. Rather, it’s because a lot of mosquitoes end up eaten before they even get a chance to reproduce. As eggs and larvae, they’re food for fish, amphibians, and aquatic insects and other arthropods. Once they take to the wing, birds and bats become major predators, as do adult dragonflies and other winged insects, plus spiders that catch them in their webs. While a single bat might not actually eat 1000 mosquitoes in a night, all those various predators do take a significant chunk out of the mosquito population.

Platanthera obtusata is just one of many orchids that rely on mosquitoes for pollination.

What Are Mosquitoes Good For? Pollination!

Believe it or not, most mosquitoes aren’t out for your blood! The majority of mosquito species are entirely vegetarian; it’s only a few in which the females seek out blood to help produce eggs. Most mosquitoes drink nectar or plant sap, and in the pursuit of the former they play a vital role in pollinating the flowers they visit. Goldenrod and orchids are just two examples of groups of plants pollinated by mosquitoes. And while mosquitoes might drive Alaskans buggy, they are vital for pollination during the short Arctic summer.

What Are Mosquitoes Good For? Keeping Things in Check!

Mosquito larvae spend anywhere from a few days to a few weeks in the water where they hatched. They feed on a variety of bacteria, algae, and other microorganisms. Because they have a lot of growing to do, and need to prepare for their final molt to adult form, they have to eat a lot! That means they help keep their prey species’ populations in check. An overgrowth of algae, for example, can reduce the amount of sunlight that submerged plants have access to, and as the algae dies it increases the amount of nitrogen in the water. By constantly grazing on algae, mosquito larvae are helping to prevent these sorts of ecological imbalances.

What If We Made Mosquitoes Go Extinct?

So what are mosquitoes good for? Quite a lot, apparently! However, there’s no denying some species have also caused us a lot of grief. There have been calls to exterminate all mosquitoes, or at least every species that could ostensibly cause us problems through disease transmission. And to be sure, I don’t want to see people dying of malaria or West Nile virus, especially as these diseases often hit disadvantaged populations harder, with fewer resources for treatment. But it’s something where we need to weigh the consequences carefully.

What would happen if there were suddenly no more mosquitoes? Sure, the animals that prey on them could potentially find other sorts of food, but there would be an upset in the food web as the predators put more pressure on remaining prey species, which could lead to some of those species become locally endangered or even extirpated. Or the predators might drop in number as they failed to find enough food. Either way, getting rid of all the mosquitoes would have a negative impact on the food web.

Finally, and possibly most importantly–we may not fully understand the ecological roles mosquitoes have. As I wrote recently, ecosystems are incredibly complex networks of relationships among thousands of species, and for centuries we have been eradicating entire species without any thought as to what long-term effects their loss might have on their native ecosystems.

However, that brings up another point: the fact that there are invasive mosquitoes. Invasive species wreak havoc on ecosystems they’re introduced to, and it just so happens that one of the most notorious disease-spreading mosquitoes, Aedes aegypti, is invasive across much of the tropics, as well as subtropical and temperate areas worldwide. Spread through the slave trade, this mosquito is a prime vector for yellow fever, dengue fever, Zika, and several other pathogenic diseases affecting humans. Its cousin, Aedes albopictus, is also a disease vector and is more cold-hardy, meaning it could spread even further.

What’s the answer? Well, historically people just drained wetlands, much to the devastation of the native ecosystems there. More recently, the widespread and indiscriminate use of pesticides like DDT also knocked back mosquito populations (at least temporarily), but also killed off many other animals both directly and indirectly, to include nearly wiping out multiple raptor species due to eggshell thinning. Moreover, mosquitoes have developed resistance to pesticides, making them a less useful tool overall.

More recent innovations to control specific invasive mosquitoes hold some promise. A. aegypti, for example, has been genetically modified in labs to create a strain known as OX513A. Not only do the offspring die before they can reproduce, even if a OX513A breeds with a wild mosquito, but the offspring also apparently lack resistance to some pesticides. Biological control using Wolbachia bacteria inhibits A. aegypti‘s reproduction, and also makes them unable to carry certain diseases such as Zika and dengue fever.

So it would appear that the fight to control invasive species also has the bonus effect of stopping the mosquitoes most likely to give the rest a bad name.

Did you enjoy this post? Consider taking one of my online foraging and natural history classes, checking out my other articles, or picking up a paperback or ebook I’ve written! You can even buy me a coffee here!

#mosquito #mosquitoes #insects #invertebrates #arthropods #wildlife #wild animals #animals #entomology #biology #ecology #invasive species #nature #natural history #bugs #long post #environment #environmentalism #conservation

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ariespellz · 2 years

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hand holding hcs !!

ft. genshin guys + gn!reader

includes: diluc, xiao, albedo, thoma, zhongli, itto, kaeya, childe.

one, two, three.

cw: fluff, established relationship, me simping (kinda), mentions of blood and battles, it gets kinda angsty in kaeya's (not too much. god im so in love with him it's unhealthy).

A/N: THEM!!! also this got progressively more informal KDHZJSBS sorry abt that lol. and sorry for having parts longer than others ://

DILUC

top tier hand holding. bless his soul.

his hands are warm due to his vision. they're big and strong, and his palms are a bit rough.

he also has some scars, most of them he'd rather not talk about.

"just... and accident" he'd reply softly, clearing his throat.

some others are from small falls he had as a kid, or from training.

he doesn't like the scars at all, so if you were to tell him something positive about them, his cheeks would turn pink (please compliment them).

he's not the fondest of PDA but hand holding is one of the few things he'll do in public

when it's just the two of you it's better, though. he'll take his gloves off and smile when you interlace his fingers in yours :'))

you know the rubbing thumb thing?? yeah he does that

it's just something ingrained in his brain, really. his father did it when he was only a child, taking walks with him through the forest whenever the adult had some time to spare.

to him, hand holding is sacred. it just feels so intimate in a way he can't quite describe. fingers interlocked, little glances you sometimes steal the other, and your light giggles when you catch him.

OH and he's totally the type to lean down and kiss the reverse of your hand

with EYE CONTACT

makes your knees wobbly every. single. time.

and he knows that

so he only does it behind closed doors. to save you from the embarrassment (and totally not because he can't help the smirk tugging at his lips and the small laugh that scapes his lips when you cover your face with the free hand)

(yeah definitely not that)

you were the one initiating the contact the first time.

you see him all suave and mysterious and cool

but the first time you held his hand?? he almost combusts right there

you were walking home after a dinner out. it was your second date together and the opportunity just presented itself when he suggested taking a stroll instead of using a carriage.

and you just... went for it when he accidentally brushed his hand against yours.

you had some mercy and didn't interlace fingers.

but still. WOW. the reaction was immediate. you could hear a sharp breath and a shivering exhale. if it wasn't for the silence that accompanied the night, you were sure you wouldn't have heard it.

but it also was the night and it's darkness that you couldn't clearly see his raging blush. you two were lucky he didn't accidentally set anything on fire.

the redness extended from the apples of his cheeks, to the tip of his ears, to his neck and collarbones.

and the fluttering in his belly, which had been bothering him the entire afternoon, was going wild.

he couldn't LOOK at you. he was scared that you could hear his heartbeat. humiliating.

for him of course. you had the time of your life teasing him (and it was also cute so it's a win-win)

"is something the matter, master diluc?" you ask feigning innocence, a cheeky smile adorning your face "you don't look too good. perhaps you have fever?"

"i am perfectly fine, (y/n). thank you." he muttered through gritted teeth after a long silence. you just giggled in response.

good thing he didn't get to see the flush adorning your face, and how you had to bite back the loving sigh that threatened to leave your lips.

archons. you were down bad.

XIAO

he won't initiate it but he won't stop you either (a.k.a he's too proud to let you see how soft it makes him)

"you mortals are weird" he scoffs. you don't fail to notice that he doesn't even try to pull away.

and that he won't meet your gaze.

his hands are so pretty omg. slender fingers that would look delicate if it wasn't for the sheer strength they have.

that's one of the reasons he's hesitant to touch you.

PDA with him is non existent. zero. maybe some acts or service, or the obvious way he favours you over anyone else present.

but there won't be a single touch that could confirm that.

(you swear you can see zhongli smirking behind his cup of tea, eyes flickering between the two of you full of amusement. oh, and archons forgive that hu tao's there, ready to point out the way his gaze softens when he hears your voice.)

the lack of contact in front of others is nothing to get worried over

it's just that he's kinda clueless when it comes to affection.

specially physical one.

but he's willing to try just to see you happy.

you don't initiate much either, considering how private he is.

to be completely honest, if he allows you to freely touch him without any grumbling (let alone hold his hand) it means that he's completely and absolutely smitten

you're the only one he could ever commit to. someone whose only purpose is to kill, to harm, to get his hands stained with blood. the same ones you're now cradling in yours, brushing your thumb lovingly over his knuckles, after practically begging him to take off his gloves, just to feel him.

"these hands have taken countless lives" he says, voice stern "why would you want to hold them?"

and he looks so genuinely confused.

golden eyes, perfect porcelain skin, teal hair moving with the breeze, watching the sunset in wangshuu inn's roof.

he feels himself melt. muscles relaxing for the first time in centuries.

and the way he looked at you, even if it was just for a moment. so full of love. so full of devotion.

you may or may not have had to sneakily dry a tear after that.

ALBEDO

hmm

he's a wild card

maybe because he doesn't really care

it's not like he dislikes it (not at all) it's just that it feels so casual, so natural to him that he doesn't see the point in lingering in the thought for too long.

his hands are perfect. they were carved to be like that, after all.

soft palms, slender fingers, and clean, perfect nails.

his digits grazing your skin feel like kisses covering every inch they touch.

even if the gesture isn't a big deal for him, it feels comforting. he won't really hesitate to take your hand in his while walking around dragonspine, or while taking a stroll in the city.

he silently slides his digits between yours. the usual between you two. you were taking a different path home today, after an afternoon in his lab.

"so you don't get lost" he says. you know that's not the real reason, but no words are needed.

he was the one who suggested it first.

"just to see how it feels" or some bullshit excuse like that.

lies. it was because he read it in a romance book LMAO

don't even get me started on how kaeya wouldn't stop mercilessly teasing him about it after he caught him reading it. twice.

"this is nice. we should do it more often" he suggests with a straight face.

your lips inevitably quirk upwards.

"yeah," you mutter, feeling your face heat up "we should."

he likes it. that's it.

not a big deal.

but, just a secret between you and me...

...he'd only ever do it with you

ZHONGLI

average hand holding enjoyer

seriously though. this man will NOT let go of your hand

(unless you ask ofc. but you probably won't lol)

going for a walk around liyue harbour? he's holding your hand. filling paperwork for a funeral? he's holding your hand with his free one. dinner out? hand holding OVER THE TABLE‼️ the waitress is swooning (it was me. i was the waitress/hj)

what can i say. a gentleman.

he's so natural with PDA, too. does not give a single fuck about who's watching.

oh and HIS HANDS

lord have mercy

we must stay focused brothers

they're strong and veiny, but also slim at the same time. for someone who as slaughtered hundreds, if not thousands, he has a surprisingly low amount of marks.

he heals fast. he's a god.

you may notice a few scratches if you look closely, but that's about it. he doesn't hesitate to tell you the full story if you ask for it.

"oh, that one?" he let out a low chuckle "it was a long time ago..."

yeah, get ready. he likes to ramble.

but his stories are interesting and you love to listen, sooo

just like diluc, he's 1000% the type to kiss the back of your hand.

he'll lean down, golden eyes boring through yours, digits holding your hand in place, and place a chaste kiss right in the middle.

dancing with him ugh<3

as stated before, he does NOT hesitate to do it in public. if hu tao or childe are there, get ready.

anyway back to the point.

he also does the thumb rubbing thing.

i don't know how to describe it but his hands are always the right temperature.

you'd have to be the one to do it the first time.

it's not that he doesn't want to, its more of a what if you don't want to.

so, you were walking around liyue harbour, and it was really busy

he's really tall, so you would've been able to find him if you two got separated

but it was the perfect opportunity to grab his hand.

when you suggested it he smiled softly and let you decide how you wanted it.

"the scenery is beautiful today, isn't it?"

"indeed, it is" he answered. he, however, could only look at you.

probably one of the best hand holders in teyvat ngl.

THOMA

THIS ONE

THIS ONE RIGHT HERE

your hand is always entangled with his

but it's less casual and more... passionate

going for walks in the nature, he'll interlock your fingers with his

he'll kiss the back of your hand, yeah, but hear me out:

he'll kiss your palm while looking at you in the eye.

dunno about you jut i'd just MELT

oh and going around through the market, buying groceries?? you WILL dangle your conjoined hands back and forth

it's so cute PLS the vendors have a heartache every time they see you two.

(honestly same)

he's a PDA guy. he's a private person, as extroverted as he can be, but he loves showing you off because he knows you're so cool and great and yadda yadda yadda

he also knows your worth

also!! imagine having a hotpot with the kamisatos at komore teahouse.

he's ambidextrous (a hc of mine) so he'll hold his chopsticks in one hand and yours in the other.

ayaka is practically fantasizing and sighing adoringly while ayato is being a dick teasing you

"my, thoma! i didn't take you for a showoff" ayato says. "when's the wedding?"

ayaka lightly taps his thigh, annoyance written all over her face. thoma just chuckled, tightening his grip.

his hands are rough thanks to all the work, but still delicate in some way. careful and precise, long fingers and veiny forearms. he also manages to always have his nails perfect?? clean and the right length.

same as diluc, his vision makes them warm.

he initiated it the first time.

"can i hold your hand, (y/n)?" he asked. it was your first date and he had just picked you up. nothing too formal, just a walk around the city at night.

your heart was racing, and you were sure your palms were sweaty.

and his emerald eyes flickered nervously, not quite connecting with yours

and his beautiful smile was trembling a bit with excitement

and his cheeks and the tip of his ears were colored pink

"sure, i'd love to." you couldn't contain the happy giggle that scaped your lips because oh my god you were holding thoma's hand.

another one who does the thumb thing

ladies, gentlemen and nobles of the court he is the PERFECT MAN. his hand holding will make you ascent to celestia.

ITTO

he's a passionate one that's for sure

sometimes he's a bit too passionate, and you have to ask him to calm down (otherwise he might just break your hand lmao)

oni stuff we don't get it

his hands are huge, and warm, and full of scars, and nghhh please i wanna hold his hand and kiss the marks

most of them are from doing dumb shit lol

shinobu always gets you to treat his scratches because she knows he won't resist you (an that he actually listens to you)

big PDA guy.

he OWNS it

he could make out with you in the middle of a busy street as long as you wanted him to

so it goes without saying that his hands are ALWAYS on you

but he specially loves to hold your hand

it feels so romantic to him hehe <3

it makes him lightheaded and his stomach fill with butterflies

he feels so joyous that he always chuckles when you do it

"so we don't get separated" you'd excuse yourself.

unpopular opinion YOU WERE THE FIRST ONE TO DO IT

yes his love language is physical touch, yes he was shy about it. so what?

you were in a beetle fight, the two of you cheering for your onikabuto to win.

and then...

it did!

you weren't officially dating yet, so kissing him was out of the question (even if you really wanted to, just by hearing his cheery laugh and seeing his adorable smile)

instead, you picked one of his hands with both of yours, looked up to him and thanked him

"see?" he stammered, trying to play it cool "what did i tell ya? the small ones are the best!"

he scratched the back of his head with his free hand, avoiding eye contact. he was a stuttering, babbling mess. face reddened, heartbeat quickening, and hands sweating.

it didn't take him long to ask you out after that.

loves to touch you and loves hand holding. totally worth it.

KAEYA

you'd assume he does it a lot

WRONG

wait not too wrong

he loves to touch you (same as itto, he's all over you) but hand holding somehow feels vulnerable to him

which means it makes him shy

hands holding your waist? cool. an arm draped over your shoulders? nothing out of the ordinary. his palm on your thighs, caressing and grabbing the flesh? how daring! still nothing new.

but your fingers toying with his? his thumb brushing over your knuckles? to feel your grip tighten or soften depending on the mood?

holy shit he's malfunctioning

because yes, he can be a smooth talker. a flirt. someone who's handsome and knows it.

he'll be as cool as a cucumber as long as it's not intimate.

because kaeya's heart its surrounded by an everlasting blizzard. because he's scared of commitment, of intimacy.

because he's scared of attachment, but even more scared of loneliness.

so he'll play it off with lingering touches that feel burning on your skin. with fingertips stoking your back. with a playful kiss on your cheek.

he wants to be liked, but he can't be important.

so when the touch is innocent, genuine, caring. when you allow yourself to wear your heart on your sleeve just for him.

it's when you see past the façade.

"oh." he gasped softly. thank barbatos the street was practically empty. you can feel his muscles tense for a second, but he doesn't waste a second to chuckle and dissimulate it with faux-confidence "feeling needy, aren't we?"

you just roll your eyes. what a guy.

still!! not as big on PDA as you initially assumed. if you're in a flirting/first dates phase, he might be a bit more public.

the moment it becomes official, he's more lowkey.

the grannies and grandpa's of mond remind you two how lucky you are to have each other.

OK OK BACK TO THE POINT

you were the first one to hold his hand (go get him tiger)

diluc had knocked on your door one day at around two in the morning.

"that guy is drunk and i don't want him making a mess" he had said. judging by the look on his face, he meant something like "im worried about him but i don't want him to know".

so, you tidied yourself as much as you could and went to angel's share.

the walk to his home was torture. he would not stop whining with his face in the crook of your neck.

at one point you got frustrated and told him to stop. your voice came out colder than you wanted and you instantly regretted it.

"i'm sorry. please don't leave me."

you heard your heart break. not wanting to push his boundaries, you settled for taking his hands in yours.

"i won't, i promise." you sighed. "let's get you home, then, yeah?"

"...yeah."

needless to say, he had a lot to think about the next day, when he saw you sleeping on his couch.

your response to his vulnerability was what made the difference for him.

CHILDE

childe would love nothing more than to spend his whole life with his hands on you.

but he can't.

PDA with him has to be settled to a minimum. the last thing he wants is to let any of those ten menaces and their minions to know just how important you are to him.

that's why holding hands is the most he'll do in public

when he's sober, at least.

due to the cold, it's the usual in snezhnaya to hold hands. not even in the romantic sense. just another way to maintain the heat.

so he doesn't really see it as something that intimate or relevant.

he does like it, though

specially with you.

he does this thing when he grabs your wrist and expects you to do the rest just so he can tease you for it and 'gaslight you' into believing you were the one holding him

"aw, (y/n), do you really like me that much, hm?

"not this again, please."

#Free(Y/N)

ANYWAYS his hand is always in yours, similar to zhongli or thoma.

unless his co-workers are nearby.

noone really knows who did it first.

you were going for a stroll one day and tried it at the exact same time.

an "accident".

(he saw you staring at his hand and tried to make it less awkward by doing that)

(king shit)

his hands are veiny and also a bit bony?? (is that a thing lol)

slim and long fingers

his palms are softer than you'd expect. he always wears gloves while training

still, he has a lot of scars. mostly cuts and scratches.

contrary to popular belief, he's not fond of his scars. he likes the stories that go behind them, and the experience they give him.

but god forbid that any of his younger siblings see them. specially teucer.

"i think they look good on you" you complimented one day, kissing them one by one. "it's in character of you."

he smiled softly, sliding his digits between yours "i think you look good in everything."

man that was SMOOTH /j

hand holding is a big deal in snezhnaya because of how common it is.

so he'll use it as an excuse not to let you go.

what a dork. i want to marry him.

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idyllvcs · 11 months

Text

WHAT A STRANGE.. NOVEL?

Ⅰ. AYATO X FEM!READER ⅠⅠ. TAGS : fluff, slight kissing, established marriage, fem! reader, uses of pet names like; my wife, dearest, darling, teasing (?idfk how to write people teasing each other) physical touch, overall ayato just teasing u for reading smut ⅠⅠⅠ. WC : 1.01k ⅠV. SYNOPSIS : ayato finds out you read smut lololol english isn’t my first language, sorry ! + and i didn’t do a spelling check V. A/N : ayato brainrot, like seriously and i haven’t written for what i hope is not more than 2.. months?

it’s not so strange for ayato to see your nose buried in whatever book you acquired from yae publishing house. for some reason, despite his qualities that you’d once described as vexing and almost mischievous, he had never pried into the light or heavy novels that occupied half your days.

even on days when he ignores the piling mountain of his work with no hesitation to indulge in your touches and bury his face into your shoulder from behind, ayato would often let out a huff seeing how your attention span was sucked away by the novel in your hands. he’d argue he’s not the jealous type, especially over an inanimate object! yet curiosity kills the cat and he found his violet gaze scanning your bookshelf when you were away dealing with public affairs.

if there’s one thing you have learned, silence is never a good thing. perhaps in a scenario where your husband is burying himself in his paperwork or just sleeping soundlessly then maybe it is. however, after coming home, your eyes dart to his empty desk– he was not there. your mind wanders to whether he is sleeping– he does not sleep at this time. all questions were answered when you slid open the shoji door to your shared bedroom gently and were greeted with the delightful sight of ayato flipping through a novel you recently bought.

“...is that what occupies your free time, dear wife?”

you found yourself getting flustered when your eyes glaze over the title.

“so am i not allowed to read?” you asked with a clearing of your throat but there was a slight crack– a slight hesitation to your voice when the corner of his lips tugged into a cunning smirk.

ayato shuts the book quickly with one hand, a gentle clap when the pages meet each other, and he places it down on a nearby surface. the rough pads of his fingertips brushes over the engraved title and he let out an amused chuckle. you, in contrast, let out a bemused one. he shook his head in response to the question.

any pliant and naive person would feel relieved if they ever saw such answer but you are not ‘any pliant or naive person’-- you were his wife and you knew the lingering undertone in his gaze and demeanor all too well.

“you are allowed to read, i have no objections…” he trailed off and you mentally thanked the almighty shogun he didn’t flip to your marked pages, “however.. an erotica, really?” the finish of his sentence made you retract your thanks.

“it is not an erotica.”

“your marked page says different.”

“you have no business looking through my books–”

“--which i paid for with my allowance.” he always had won the back and forths of your banters. you were absolutely stuck in place and melting– if being frozen by both hydro and cryo slimes were difficult, you’d argue that this is much worse.

with a click of a tongue, ayato strides over to you; not failing to pick up your book and using it to raise your chin. your eyes narrowed, not in anger but in embarrassment, when you felt the paperback book brush under your chin and kept your head tilted to meet his gaze.

“my, my... and to think this is what keeps my dear wife entertained after several hours of restless public affairs. i wasn’t aware yae publishing house has ventured into such risky taboo romantic tropes but i suppose everyone has surprises, hm?” ayato held his gaze with pride– almost a resemblance to cockiness because each and every second of this situation has done nothing but amused him.

“i– i am an adult with needs,” you barely stutter out, fingertips lacing together in an attempt to soothe your nerves. ayato didn’t fail to notice your slightly trembling voice and his free hand quickly found its way to your cheek. he lets out another chuckle, one that is slightly softer this time as he rubbed it. “and you did not think to voice your needs to me? i am more than happy to help you even if it means abandoning my work,” he responds quickly.

the statement makes you much more flustered and retracts your face from his palm, eliciting a tut from him. even in a year of marriage, you never fail to shy away from him– something which he would shamelessly admit that he liked using to his own advantage.

“it seems i’ve stunned you.” “shut up.”

“although… do you not feel any embarrassment buying such novels in broad daylight?” he asked with a toothy grin that showed off his pearly whites. you shook your head. it was true though, you’d never be able to live anything down if you had an awkward exchange with a worker at the publishing house. which is why you’re relieved you let your court lady or even thoma to do such tasks for you.

“no..” you answered, this time with no hesitation but with the lie seeping through your teeth, “no, i do not.” ayato shrugged at your response and dropped the book on a desk nearby. quickly, he grasps your waist to pull you in closer. his head lowered next to yours to mutter into your ears– a predicament which, in all ways, makes your knees weak.

“i suppose you do not.. considering the fact you rely on your court lady or thoma to fulfil such tasks,” he mumbles. a small gasp leaves your lips at his knowledge towards this. “dearest, it’d be slacking of me to not know what goes around in my very own estate.” each tap of his fingers against your waist makes the heat crawl up your neck more.

ayato pulled his head back and a softer smile graced his lips when he looks at you. he leaves several pecks on your stunned face and retracts his lips to see your reaction. “i am not judging you, however.. do try not to spend all your allowance on such trivial things.”

that comment earned him a harsh smack on his chest.

#genshin impact #genshin #genshin fluff #genshin imagines #genshin fic #genshin x reader #ayato #ayato x fem!reader #ayato x you #ayato x reader #kamisato ayato #kamisato ayato x reader #ayato fluff

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atarathegreat · 3 months

Text

The Boss's Little Girl

ft: Kyojuro Rengoku

"It's more than common knowledge that you are little more than dirt on the bottoms of my shoes."

Kyojuro glanced at his boss's bronze penny loafers, that ugly golden buckle shining back at him and making him wonder why anyone would wear such an appalling piece. Even as a boss of his own clan, wasn't there something better he could've worn?

"You are guards, a lower class and expendable. Your death will mean little to nothing to me and my work." The broad man spoke, hands clasped behind his back in a show of authority. Kyojuro adopted the same stance if only to make the man notice him. He wasn't some low-level guard, he was exceptional in his training and the best his clan had to offer. Kyojuro was going to make sure that was known. He wasn't expendable.

Suits stood to his left and right, Kyojuro breaking the fancy line with his hoody and sweatpants. That alone had been enough to anger the man he would be working for, but when he copied the stance, even squared his shoulders, the boss couldn't help but stare at him. "And what are you doing, son?" The all-too-familiar diminutive fell from the elder's mouth too easily. It grated on his eardrums and bones, reminding him of the last man who dared call him son. A beaten, bloody mess on the sidewalk as he continued about his day. "Just standing, Sir. Nothing exciting." Kyojuro saw how the others shied away from him, wanting distance between them and the idiot who was seemingly antagonizing the man who would pay them.

"The rest of you go and guard the house and yards. You, you get to stay with me." Hoshizaki, that was the man's name. He was a wealthy business owner, a money launderer, and a criminal. It wasn't beyond Kyojuro to know how dangerous the guy was, but he wasn't about to let his value in strength be diminished. He knew he was strong and fast, stronger and faster than even his father. That's why he was picked. Kyojuro wasn't some greenhorn in the industry, and he wasn't about to pussyfoot his responsibilities like the others in line with him. He took his job seriously, never stopping until the task was completed.

Hoshizaki eyed Kyojuro, pacing circles around him. "You're confident in yourself."

"I am."

"Why?"

Kyojuro turned only his head, "I know my skills, Sir. I know I'm better than those in the lineup. And frankly, Sir, I don't like that you called me expendable."

"Then enlighten me." Hoshizaki sat in a chair, "Tell me how you aren't expendable."

Kyojuro smirked, "I excelled in all my training, and took down some of the best in the business. Zero to forty-four in fights. I can walk off a gunshot, and I've never failed at any of the jobs I was given." To him, these were top-notch achievements worthy of respect. Kyojuro was worthy of respect for the things he'd done. "Those are impressive." Hoshizaki agreed, "Perhaps you would enjoy a job that isn't simply guarding the estate?"

Piqued, Kyojuro took a step closer, "Something important?"

"Something greatly important to me." Hoshizaki nodded, "Something I can't trust just anyone with."

For a while, Kyojuro was excited about the job, but now he was sure that this was some sort of punishment for having faith in his abilities. Forced to watch some girl as she went about her day? What moron would willingly accept that? Kyojuro cursed himself again as she fell asleep on the big couch, her phone falling to the floor. He'd become a glorified babysitter in under an hour, all for knowing his skills were adept.

Shaking her awake wouldn't work, he'd tried that last week. Kyojuro grabbed her phone and carefully picked her up to carry her back to her room. Hoshizaki had said this girl was his most important possession, his daughter. Y/n wasn't grand in any way. She was another young adult leeching off her father. That's what Kyojuro saw. The reality was that she was stuck in that estate. Her father was doting and controlling, he sheltered her for her whole life so she lacked the life skills to live on her own. Y/n wanted to be out on her own and away from her father. The two had a rocky relationship and she just wanted to be as far away from his business and crimes as she could.

"There ya' are, princess." Kyojuro grunted as he tucked her under her blankets, the pet name fit her more than anything else to him, "Bet you wouldn't even feel it if there was a pea under your mattress. You sleep too damn hard..."

She was attractive, that much he could admit. Pretty eyes that fluttered when she was exhausted, hair that she barely bothered to style, and lips that he imagined were pillow-soft from the amount of chapstick she applied. He set her phone on the table across her room and went for the door.

A part of him wanted to ruin the girl, make her scream his name loud enough that her father stopped calling him son. Kyojuro knew he wasn't supposed to like her, he wasn't supposed to want to feel how she felt beneath him while she clamped down around him. He groaned, palming his pants briefly to calm the hardening. He wanted to make her father regret calling him expendable and doubting his skill. But having himself buried in the woman wasn't tied to his skills as a clan member, it would be unfair to do that to her.

It was his cock talking to him, edging in on his brain, and making him watch the girl sleep. Not like he could leave the room she was in any way. Kyojuro slipped his shirt off and got down to do some push-ups, hoping to distract his body from the stupid thoughts he was having. Y/n was pretty to him, and he would've loved to see those full lips wrapped around his shaft, but he wasn't completely heartless. She didn't deserve that from him.

Push-ups turned to sit-ups turned to crunches.

"How long was I asleep?" Y/n sat up, her beautiful eyes trained on him and his exposed torso. He stood quickly, reaching for his shirt, "Long enough." Kyojuro flexed subtly as he raised his shirt to pull it on. Part of him simply liked to see the way she squirmed like some virgin schoolgirl who wanted to lick his abs. It was cute to him how she squeezed her thighs together and bit her lips. She wanted him, that much was obvious. "You're staring, Princess." Kyojuro chuckled.

"Maybe I wanna stare." Her mumbling made her look like a mouse under a cat's paw, and her blush added to her strange predicament. She wanted to stare at him? She'd never been so bold toward Kyojuro in the last month he was assigned to her. Timid and quiet, that's who this girl was around him. Not this foux confident facade she was trying to portray. "You're a little bold today, hm?" Kyojuro chuckled, "Want me to keep the shirt off?"

She scooted to the edge of her bed, "Yes, please."

God, her little voice saying please was gonna keep him doing crunches. Unless she reached out and touched him, which is exactly what she did. Dainty fingers against firm and sweaty abs made Kyojuro's skin burn with the need to feel every inch of her. He wrapped his hand around her wrist, "Don't do that, princess. You won't like what happens." She pushed until her palm was flat against his torso, "I don't know if I can...but I want to try."

Kyojuro forced her back onto her bed, biting firmly at her neck and licking just over her pulse. Heavenly, he knew her moans would be heavenly. She was an angel. Her soft hands trailed into his fiery hair, not tugging hard, but not gently, either. He was going to enjoy breaking her mind and making her a mumbling, babbling mess. Soft skin met his fingertips as he pushed her shirt up to reveal her bra. "Say it again, say you want to try and take me." Kyojuro licked the top of her breasts, enjoying how the tender flesh gave way under his tongue.

"I do. I want to try and take you, Kyojuro." She whispered, those pretty eyes of hers staring at him with an innocence that he so badly needed to corrupt. "Sheltered little princess wants me, huh?" Kyojuro smirked at her, "What would Daddy say, hm?"

"Don't care." Y/n closed her eyes, "I-I want to know what it's like..."

He sat back on her, staring down at her in shock, "You've never been with a guy?" The way she shook her head, her hair falling onto the blankets below her almost made him not care. At the very least it explained more of her behaviors. She really was a little virgin schoolgirl. "Don't excite me, princess, tell the truth." His breaths became a little more labored. "Tellin' the truth, I promise." She breathed, reaching for him, "Wouldn't lie to you."

And he knew she wouldn't, not with those blown pupils and the perfect way she licked her lips in anticipation. He grabbed her chin, running his thumb over her bottom lip, "I believe you, princess. I'll be gentle with you, alright."

He hooked his fingers in the hem of her leggings and pulled them down, lifting her bottom to get her underwear free so he could toss them to the floor. "You're pretty, you know that? So pretty and untouched..." Kyojuro circled his thumb around her clit, her already wet sex clenching around nothing, "Makes me feel unhinged in all the worst ways. I might hurt you, princess."

"That's okay...I can take it." He knew she couldn't, hell, she knew she couldn't. But it made him so hard to hear her say she could. He tried to be slow, but as soon as his fingertip was swallowed by her cunt, the rest of his finger followed. Y/n arched her back, grinding pitifully into his touch. "Can you handle another?" Kyojuro never took his eyes off the way she sucked his finger. She whimpered, whether it was an affirmative or not, he added another digit. Squishy and warm, and even with just his fingers she was so damn tight. He wanted to just dive in and feel her heat around his cock as he stretched her, but Kyojuro didn't want to hurt her so he stayed patient and kept working her open.

Her fingers wrapped around his hand, squeezing him tightly as he rubbed her insides. "Patience, princess, I'm gonna find it." Kyojuro smiled at her, pushing his fingers upwards to test her reactions. Her whines fed the blood to his groin and he had to pump himself a few times to relieve some pressure.

When Kyojuro felt that she was loose enough for him, he freed his cock from his pants and chuckled as she watched it. "Never seen one, princess?" She propped up on her elbows, staring at his member, "Never." She was so honest he couldn't take it. "You can play with it later. Now I need to feel you." Kyojuro gently rubbed his tip against her bud, hissing at the way her muscles tightened to try and pull him closer. He pressed firmly into her, and she snapped around him like a rubber band and just as tight. "Shit." Kyojuro pushed deeper before moving back and going in again, "Gonna let me in?" Her hands were busy gripping the sheets, her nose scrunched up like she had smelled something rotten, but those sounds she made suggested otherwise.

Kyojuro held her cheek, smiling at her, "Doing great, keep those eyes on me." Each thrust was met with a little bit of a deeper dive. She was so good for him, keeping her eyes open even though they threatened to close from the pleasure she was being given.

"Keep those pretty eyes on me, princess." Kyojuro panted, holding her cheeks, "Don't look anywhere else."

If only her father knew that Y/n was drooling over Kyojuro. The thought made him smile. Kyojuro wasn't expendable, but now it was made even more so by the girl having this attraction to him. She'd be tied to his every move, and if she kept these cute whines, Kyojuro would be happy to hold the leash.

#demon slayer #demon slayer x reader #x reader #rengoku kyojuro #kyojuro x reader #kyojuro rengoku x reader #demon slayer kyojuro #kny kyojuro

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