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#can imagine this howl looking down at all the changes made to his home by Sophie
teecupangel · 1 year
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Au where Desmond is a dragon, looking like an apple of eden, and going around through the times 'saving' things, aka changing Canon history so no good people die, like kadar/malik/sef/auditore family/Connor's tribe. He can speak telepathically, has some sort of breath attack (doesn't have to be fire, could be anything) and of course flies. And while he saves anyone, he is loyal to the 'protagonist' Assassin most (altair, ezio, Connor, etc)
It would be symbolic for Desmond to have a sunlight-type breath attack. It doesn’t spew actual fire but a beam of white light as bright as the sun and has the same temperature as the solar flare that he died to save the world from.
Desmond has no idea what the hell it is or how it works so he just calls it his ‘laser beam’ because it looks like a laser to him.
Also… you say dragon and the first two things I thought of are “oh god, Desmond’s hoard is gonna be all the important stuff in AC lore” and…
You know what would be funny?
If Desmond has this urge, this itch, this need so ingrained into his dragon self to…
Kidnap the AC protagonists.
Because dragons are well known to kidnap princesses and a brave knight going on an adventure to save these damsel in distresses are simply part of human culture by now.
Just imagine…
Malik, after having lost a rock-paper-scissor contest, having to be the one to ‘save’ Altaïr from the fierce dragon that destroyed Solomon’s Temple just to burrow deep into the strange place where the Ark had been, incinerating Robert and his lackies before they could kill Kadar then taking off with both the Ark and an angry Altaïr shouting to put him down or he’ll skin his lizard skin. When he get to the supposed dragon lair, Altaïr is just in the middle of the hoard, reading an old book, with a large dragon curled around him, purring like a cat… a large cat with a purr that makes the entire cave shake slightly. Malik just staring at Altaïr with a ‘why aren’t you trying to escape???’ and Altaïr just going “Malik, good, you’re here. I’ve found letters and journals that says Al Mualim has betrayed us. Here.” Altaïr throws a bag at him, making Desmond grumble in displeasure which he just rolls his eyes as he said “We’ll get you something shiny. I’m sure the Templars have something in Arsuf.” and Malik is just “WHAT???”.
And that is how the legend of a dragon underneath Masyaf is born. It is said it guards the most prized treasures and knowledge in the entire world.
… It should. The Levantine Brotherhood had to be careful in transferring all of Desmond’s hoard or they’d get an ear-piercing howl equivalent of “FRAGILE, HANDLE WITH CARE!”
And the most annoying part is that they all know Desmond can talk to them telepathically. He just prefers to howl whenever he wants to be annoying.
The next one to be ‘kidnapped’ is Ezio and Ezio doesn’t need any dashing knight to save him. No, no. He got Desmond to just stay in the Sanctuary (which was made to be just as big as his home in Masyaf before because the Brotherhood had decided all secret lairs must have a basement as big as that… just in case the legendary dragon decides to visit or stay a while…) by promising to bring him as many shinies as he can.
Claudia is his favorite Auditore though because she figured a dragon would be a better guard for their money than a bank. Also, Desmond is okay with getting funds for any reconstructions or buildings Ezio wants to do because Ezio gives him more shinies which meant that they also have extra emergency money if they needed it.
And he managed to destroy the Papal Army in a matter of minutes. Sure, that meant Rome was left defenseless and the Borgias became known as the family that got Rome destroyed and sacked but… weeellll… at least Monteriggioni later became an independent state which is nice?
Edward found him… sorta by accident. He heard the tales of the legendary golden white dragon, of course. Of how it hoards the greatest most priceless riches in the entire world. But, by his time, everyone believed it to be a legend. Only those coming from Italy and Levant truly believed the legend. But Edward did ‘find’ a certain journal that talks about it from the headquarters of the Assassins that Mary took him to. So he went out to find this supposed dragon hoard and… well… he got captured on the way to the hoard.
In his damn ship no less.
The dragon just swooped right in and taken Edward from the helm, much to the surprise of his crew.
Adéwalé was the only one of his crew that had the heart to try and find him. He found Edward pinned to a very large hoard by one huge dragon hand and Adéwalé realized what Edward had been doing when he heard, “Alright, alright! I’m sorry! I won’t try to pocket anything anymore! Promise! Yes, I know this is my third promise today but I’m serious this time!”
Shay had heard the legends of the dragon but never saw it. Until Lisbon… When he got to the location where the POE was… the dragon was there, curled around it.
It told him that this POE was unstable and touching it would cause an earthquake that would destroy whatever was above them and Shay just went…
Alrighty then. He isn’t going to argue with the dragon of legends that can talk directly to his mind.
If Achilles still wants to take the POE, he can take it himself.
Achilles heard and believed the stories of the dragon, of course, so if the dragon says that then yeah… better order Shay to find all the other POEs in the manuscript and make sure they remain untouched for as long as possible then.
Desmond chills in the Grand Temple during Ratonhnhaké:ton’s time. His laser beam incinerates everything but does not have to give out any kind of flame at all so he can use it without worrying about accidentally causing forest fires which is nice. Desmond ‘kidnapped’ Ratonhnhaké:ton when he was a child but he let him go anyway so Ratonhnhaké:ton just started visiting him before he could kidnap him. The villagers believe that this means Ratonhnhaké:ton has been chosen by the dragon and it’s a chill dragon that’s only main problem is it likes to hoard feathers for some reason and that agitates all the other birds in the area.
Charles Lee… Charles Lee didn’t live too long in this one.
Also, Ratonhnhaké:ton doesn’t need a ship. He has a dragon!
Arno got captured by the dragon early on. The most embarrassing part was that the ‘knight’ who came to rescue him?
The pretty redhaired de la Serre girl he didn’t even know the name of.
And. It. Kept. Happening.
It’s gotten to the point that his father would check the dragon’s liar first if he can’t find his son and Uncle Pierre has started calling him ‘dragon bait’. He honestly preferred being called pisspot.
“Maybe this time you can finally ask her what her name is.”
“Shut up, Desmond.”
Jayadeep had to be the one to ‘save’ Jacob and Evie from the dragon that ‘kidnapped’ them. He knew the dragon had a liar underneath London and Henry had actually talked to the dragon twice now. He liked to be called Desmond and he was the same dragon as the one in the legends so he thought it wouldn’t take a long time for him to ask Desmond to give the twins back.
Unfortunately…
“Please, Evie, we need to go-”
“Just a few more minutes!” (gasp) “This is the first edition of the-”
“I found the rum! Lots of it! Hey, Desmond, can you get drunk?!”
“And this is the actual journal of Leonardo da Vinci, best known as an ally of our Brotherhood and- oh. Oh. Oooohhh… there’s a lot of nude sketches of a man in this one.”
“Where?! Trade you for a casket of rum?!”
“I thought you wanted to get Desmond drunk?”
“Right! Come on, Desmond. Let’s try and see if you can get drunk!”
Jayadeep sighed and left the hoard.
He’ll try again tomorrow.
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Mama’s boy chapter 2
Plot summary: Spider works up the courage to ask Quaritch about his mother. He’ll quickly learn that his mama was just as feral as he is.
Relationships: Spider Socorro and Miles Quaritich Paz Socorro/Miles Quaritch
Authors note: first thank you all so much! you have no idea how much all your likes on the first chapter meant to me. I really hope you all enjoy this chapter as well. It has a lot of my own headcanos for what earth is like in the Avatar universe so I’m really curious (and a little nervous) what you all think of this chapter. Enjoy!
______________________________________________________________The whole squad was laughing at him. His son was laughing at him. Even the wind seemed to be howling with laughter at his expense.
“Mama really put you in your place.” Spider managed to get out between breaths.
Quaritch shrugged. “Wasn’t the last time either.” The admission brought a fond little smile to his face. For a moment all the noise around him faded away as he basked in those memories. Then the grief and guilt crept in and the world crashed back into focus.
Spider didn’t miss how the man's eyes lit with his smile. He watched the recom, stare off into the distance, wondering what thoughts the man was wrapped up in, before Spider saw his eyes darken, the smile slip. The change was so small, but it made Spider’s smile slip too, his laughter dying away. “So what happened next?”
“Hmm” Quaritch was snapped from his thoughts. He had registered his son speaking to him but the words hadn’t processed in his head.
“After mama went off on you. What’d you do?”
Quaritch looked at Spider directly now “I went back to my room.” He was extremely blunt with his words, knowing full well that was not the answer his boy was looking for. Spider groaned in that over the top, frustrated way, that teenagers just excel at, rolling his eyes at him. Quaritich chuckled in that way only a devious parent can, after intentionally annoying their child. 
“You know that's not what I meant.” said Spider exasperated.
“Alright, alright.” Quaritch held his hands up in surrender. “I went back to my room..” Spider’s frustrated groan filled the air again and Quaritch had to hold in a laugh “.... and I pulled your mama’s file.” That caught Spider's attention. Was Quaritch about to tell him his mama’s back story?  
“Before I get into that though I need to know. What do you know about Earth son?” 
Quaritche’s question caught Spider a little off guard but he answered “ah its dying?”
The squad snickered a little at that. Quaritch just rolled his eyes. “Yes, it's dying. What else?” Spider answered with a shrug. Quaritch felt a spark of anger, flare up inside of him. “Do you mean to tell me that no one, not Sully, not those traitor lab coats, nobody, ever told you a thing about Earth?” 
Spider just shrugged again “ I never really cared, so I never really asked. Pandora's my home, so I was taught this planet's history.” That  was a bit of an oversimplification if he was being honest. His species were colonizers. He couldn’t allow himself to care about their history.  
 That stung Quaritch. Sure the kid was born here, but his parents were still from earth, his ancestors, his very species was from earth and he didn’t even care. 
“Well let me educate you then boy.” Quaritch had to stop himself from out right hissing these words. He took a breath and continued “ Over the past hundred years now Earth has been on a steep environmental decline but in the last fifty-ish years things have been getting down right apocalyptic. I remember when I was about six, maybe seven, a massive hurricane, the most horrific ever seen in recorded history, completely submerged the entire south- eastern coast of the United States. The water never receded either. An entire landmass gone in less then a day. Millions of people dead.”
    Spider’s blood ran cold. He couldn’t imagine something so horrific. What would  something like that do to the minds of the people who’d lived and witnessed that?
“That wasn’t even the first time something like that had happened.” said Z-dog solemnly “loads of coastal land masses were lost long before any of us were born due to the rising oceans.
“But that's nothing compared to the land that's just completely un-livable now because of pollution.” added Mansk equally as solemn. The entire group was now so formal and stiff it was like they were at a funeral, a sharp contrast from how happy and energetic they’d been just moments before.
Quaritch nodded to his comrades “Cities are completely over crowded, but not because of overpopulation. It’s like Z-dog and Mansk said. There’s just not a lot of land that people can safely live on.” 
Wainfleet let out a bitter little laugh “ The land that is livable definitely isn’t much better.” Spider wanted this all to stop, it was all just too horrible, but he couldn’t make his mouth form the words. He kept listening, feeling like he was made of stone, completely incapable of moving.
“So that’s Earth.” Quaritch said “ Most people have just given up. Birth rates have been dropping sharply for decades. At first, it was mainly because all the chemicals in the water, and food, and the air, causing  a lot of people to be infertile. But after a while, when the writing was really on the wall, it just seemed cruel to bring one more person into the world. One more person to go down with the ship.”
“That’s bad for business though,” Quaritch continued. Spider was finally able to manage giving him a questioning look. “Well think about it kid. The R.D.A runs pretty much everything. A business constantly needs more workers and more customers. When the workers you have get too old to work, and you don’t have a young body to replace them with, what do you think happens?”   
Spider couldn’t answer. The question made him sick thinking about human beings being reduced to nothing but cogs in a machine. 
“Children are precious commodities on earth” Quaritch went on not caring for his son's discomfort. The boy needs to know. “If someone is unlucky enough to have one, 99 times out of 100 they can’t afford the kid. But that's okay. The R.D.A group homes are always happy to take in another future factory worker.”
“Or solder.” Said Ja, his voice dripping with bitterness. Spider didn’t miss Z-dog and Mansk’s tensed muscles and angry eyes either.
“There are four types of youth on earth.” Said Quaritch holding up a finger with each type to make his point. “There's the kids born to the ultra rich, spoiled brats who live in a domed bio controlled city, who will one day be handed a cushy well paying management job in the R.D.A.  There's the group home kids who are tested, trained and conditioned for whatever job some computer deems them best suited for. Then there's the rare case where a kid is actually raised by one or both parents but more often than not those kids turn into the fourth type, the disaffected youth, hopeless young thugs who run wild on the streets, without a care in the world, for who they hurt, if they get hurt. And why bother caring. The world's ending.” 
“What does this have to do with my mother!” Spider croaked out. He sounded like he was about to burst into tears. Quaritch looked at him then, seeing that tears were about to start falling from his son's eyes.
“You need to know!” Quaritch hadn’t meant to yell but he couldn’t help it. “You need to know where she came from to understand her.”
______________________________________________________________
  Paz Socorro. Just thinking that cocky bitches name made his blood boil. Quaritch didn’t bother to go back to bed after returning to his room. Why bother? It was 0300. He’d just have to be up in an hour anyway.
So he killed time by pulling her file. 
Name: Socorro, Paz. 
Age: est. 28. Estimated age? That's weird
D.O.B: N/A. Even weirder
 It went on like that. Any information that should have been recorded when she was born was just a big old question mark. So he skipped all that and went straight to her military career. 
He had briefly had the thought of finding a way to make her rotate home but one look at her list of accomplishments knocked that idea out of him. Best in her class by a mile. Became a flying ace in a day. Dozens of dog fight wins. Multiple successful bombing missions. 
She’s the best pilot here. He thought bitterly. Not the best new pilot, no, hands down the best pilot on Pandora. He’d be an idiot to send that away just because she’d wounded his pride. Which seemed to be the general conscience of every commanding officer she had ever had because Socorro’s list of reprimands and disciplinary infractions was just as long as her list of accomplishments. She was disrespectful, disobedient, did whatever she wanted, had even disregarded direct orders more than once. If it wasn’t for the fact that new recruits were hard to come by, she would have been dishonorably discharged years ago. Hell if she wasn’t the best of the best she still might have been kicked out.
Why had a woman like this even enlist in the first place? He scrolled down to the year she enlisted. Immediately everything started to click.
______________________________________________________________
“A couple decades ago” Quaritch explained to Spider “ A bill was passed called The Youth Reformation act. When those young street punks, I mentioned earlier, would eventually get arrested they’d be given a choice- Prison or the Military. Seemed like a win win to the masses. Violent thugs off the street. A boost to the military's ever shrinking number of new recruits….”
“That doesn't seem like much of a choice.” It made Spider angry just thinking about it.
Quaritch huffed, a small smile playing at the corner of his mouth “Your mama said the same thing.”
“So mama was a criminal!” That shocked Spider. He couldn’t imagine the woman in the one picture he’d had of her, being capable of anything other than love and kindness. Then again, a picture was just that. Reality was alway harsher.
“Eh, I’d say she was justified for the most part. She probably took things a little too far though. Mama was always a scorched earth type. Especially when she was angry.” That made Spider shiver 
“What’d she do?” Spider didn’t know if he actually wanted the answer but he couldn’t stop himself from asking. 
Quaritch was about to answer (as tactfully as possible) when the wind picked up. The campfire danced, their plates and cutlery from dinner blown away, hair whipping into their faces. The force nearly slapped him sideways. It almost seemed like a warning. That's stupid, Quaritch thought. But he did think better of what he was about to say. 
“She was just trying to survive…”
______________________________________________________________
Quaritch knew that when young punks got arrested the prosecutors would try to throw the book at them. Every minor infraction of the law would be drawn out and made massive. It turned petty crimes into ten year sentences. The powers that be, really wanted to encourage military enrollment. Quaritch got the feeling that wasn’t the case with Socorro though. Grand theft, breaking and entering, aggravated assault with a deadly weapon and..
______________________________________________________________
“Arson!?” Spider emotions had been on such a roller coaster tonight. How much more of this could he take?
“It was just third-degree.” Quaritch said nonchalantly. He decided for tonight at least, not to tell his son the story of one of the most traumatic moments in his mothers life. Paz never talked about it much. Or any of her many tramas for that matter. She had always kept those parts of herself locked away, buried under a hundred layers of snark and a spitfire attitude. She’d scream about it in her sleep sometimes though. The anguished, animalistic noises that would exploud from her lungs would haunt him forever. He didn’t need to burden their son with that pain. 
______________________________________________________________
Socorro’s early years weren't much better. She had been a group home kid. But unlike most kids, who were given up at the hospital, Socorro was brought there when she was approximately three years old.
She’d been found wandering the streets completely abandoned. That explains the age and birthday thing. She’d been too young to know. 
 Her test scores showed that she was crazy smart, practically a genius. Her biggest strengths- logic, reasoning and strategy. Academically there weren't really any subjects Socorro was bad at, in fact she pretty easily excelled at everything. The catch? She had A.D.H.D. And she had it bad. She’d pick up on things so easily that she’d quickly get bored, and start climbing the walls, or run around, or play with things she shouldn’t, just generally being energetic and disruptive. 
Her caretakers forced her into every activity under the sun just to try to wear her out.
Sports? She hated them. She was deemed overly competitive and aggressive. Dance? She loved it but couldn’t pay attention in lessons to save her life. Martial arts? That was a winner. She loved fighting with people. Gymnastics? Another winner. She had been doing cartwheels and somersaults long before she even knew the names to those moves. Art? Not so much. It always turned into a chaotic mess. It was Paz’s idea to try fencing. She’d read a lot of books with sword fighting and thought it’d be cool. It was in fact very cool. 
And then? She ran away. Quaritch had never heard of anyone pulling that off. The R.D.A kept their kids locked up tight. They couldn't risk losing a single future employee. But she had found a way out. At age eleven no less.
______________________________________________________________
“She told me once that that place felt suffocating to her. She was never alone, could never make her own choices, hardly ever aloud outside. Being homeless and running wild just fit her better.”  At least I was free, he could hear her say. 
Spider was taking everything in. Life on Earth sounded so brutal and cruel. How anyone could survive there…. 
And then he realized, they’re not. Earth was filled with nothing but hopeless, angry, people barreling towards their own extinction. You either fight or you die. 
His mama had chosen to fight for her life.
The soldiers surrounding him had chosen to fight.
But Eywa, why did they have to destroy everything in their wake, and call it survival.    
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kiatheinsomniac · 2 years
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Im sooo happy you write for Legolas and also for Howl Pendragon!!!! Can i request a "cuddling in a rainy day headcanons" with one of them? You choose ❤
You have no idea how happy I am to finally have a request for these characters so I'm going to do both!! Also I imagine the Legolas one to be set during his time in Rivendell as opposed to Mirkwood.
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Legolas Greenleaf
You could feel the tension melting form your body as his fingers danced through your hair, undoing the braids above your ears. He was leaning back against the headboard of your shared bed while you sat upright between his legs, knees raised up on either side of you. The sound of the rain pattered against the windows and there were elves playing music down the hall, the sound only faintly reaching you.
Arms wrapped around your waist to pull you back and you laid down with your head against the elf's chest, tilting your head back to smile up at him, reaching up to caress his cheek with your fingertips. No words needed to be exchanged for you to tell him just how much you loved him. He returned that silent look, so full of words, and leaned down to press a kiss to the tip of your nose, making you scrunch your eyes up as you smiled.
Typically, the two of you were outdoors all day - unless you were in the library - and so the afternoon sky deciding to open up and pour down with rain had very suddenly changed your plans for the day. You could have joined the other elves in the hall but the two of you had instead chosen to retire for the day as the rain showed no sign of clearing up before nightfall.
"I like this..." You mumbled, relaxing against him once more and entwining the fingers of one of his hands with yours, brining it up to your mouth to press light kisses across his knuckles, "The sound of the rain, just being with you like this... I need nothing but our love in this life." You felt him give you a gentle squeeze before his lips pressed to the side of your temple.
"Likewise. My home is wherever I can hold you in my arms like this." You adored how, even after all your time together, he could still make you melt with his words and you hoped that there would never be a day when the two of you would part.
Howl Pendragon
Calcifer was working even harder to keep the castle warm in the miserable weather and you appreciated that warmth almost as much as you appreciated the warmth from Howl's body that was pressed against you. The two of you had decided to stay in bed after hearing the rain beating against the window as your plans beforehand had been to go outside; now obviously cancelled.
The sounds of his chime-like and ticking trinkets tinkled in the air, making a melody with the beating of the rain. You felt him sigh against your hair, your head tucked under his chin, and he pulled you even closer.
"Are you falling asleep again?" You teased and he hummed as he shifted onto his back, pulling you with him so that you had your head laid on his shoulder.
"No, just enjoying the moment." He mumbled and brought a hand up to caress your hair, smiling at feeling how it made you melt against him in utter relaxation.
"Are you going to teach me some more spells later?" You pressed a kiss to the skin of his collarbone that had been exposed by the untied collar of his nightshirt shifting to the side.
"Maybe..." He mused, tilting his head a little so that he could look down at you, "But for now, I want to keep on holding you like this." There was a pause as you brought your hand up to rest on his chest, nuzzling against his warm skin. "Later, though, we'll have tea and I'll teach you some more simple spells..." This was punctuated with a squeeze around your waist which showed he wasn't ready to get up any time soon.
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rose-edith · 2 years
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Hi, I love your Gibbs writing. Could you maybe do something with Gibbs having to win over the Reader's dog in order to date her? I mean Reader is obviously dead keen to date Gibbs, (who wouldn't!), but my dog is very protective of me and is pretty selective about who he likes but I imagine he would fall in love with Gibbs too! So something along those lines. I love the smut ones too, (so much), but it might be weird with the dog, but whatever if its got Gibbs in it I'll love it! Thanks xx
Thank you! Of course, I hope you like it!
Also Y/D/N stands for Your Dogs Name- I’ve tried to make the dog descriptions as generic as possible.
Gibbs having to win over your dog over so he can date you would include:
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•Gibbs really loves dogs, he gets on well with them. But he’s not yet tried to date someone with a dog that is as protective of its human as your lovely dog is of you.
•the first time he meets doggo is when he drops you off after a late night date. He kisses you goodnight on your cheek and all he can hear from the other side of the still closed front door is the howling and growling of your doggo who is trying to scratch its way to you!
•when you go inside the dog stands at the threshold, barking loudly at Gibbs as a warning to stay away.
•so next time, when you’ve invited him in before you head off for a date, Gibbs is cautious. You’ve told him many times that your doggo isn’t dangerous, merely protective, but still he’s on his guard. Gibbs crouches down and stretches a hand out, waiting. But your dog stays at your side- it doesn’t growl at Gibbs this time, but it’s eyes stay trained firmly on Gibbs, just daring him to make a move.
•so Gibbs steps it up a notch! You’ve invited him round for dinner. And this time Gibbs comes prepared, he brings your beautiful fur baby a new toy and some treats. To begin with both the treats and the toy are ignored, and the dog stays resolutely between you and Gibbs on the sofa, pushing Gibbs away from you…which is fine…but very annoying when you both go to lean in for a kiss but instead get an earful from your dog as it barks at you both, startling you apart.
•but by the time Gibbs leaves (even though you’d offered/suggested that he could stay- he didn’t stay because he didn’t bring a change of clothes…you did point out that he wouldn’t need clothes- that got you a big smile! And he went to kiss you and get the ‘sleepover’ started; but then the dog started to bark and the moment was ruined!) the dog starts to play with the toy Gibbs had brought it, so at least a little progress has been made.
•but things kind of reach a head when you’re taken to hospital. You’ve been injured on a case and need to spend the night being observed, and there’s only one person you trust to look after doggo: Gibbs! Initially he wants to stay the night with you in hospital, but when you ask him to go check on your little friend he’s helpless to your charms and can’t say no!
•he takes your house key and let’s himself in- he’s pleased that there’s no barking or growling, but the doggo doesn’t come anywhere near him. But it’s a start.
•anyway, you end up spending a few days in hospital in the end, they found you’d suffered a complication from the initial injury. And in the end Gibbs takes you home on his day off, and you’re absolutely amazed at what you see!
•your lovely little pup greets Gibbs with kisses and nudges, searching for affection and a little treat, which Gibbs swiftly gave out of his pocket. Only then did your very excited doggo turn its attention to you, and you were amazed- no jumping up, just a very excited wagging tail and rear end as it circled you, checking you over!
•you turned to Gibbs, questions written all over your face. He just gave you that devilishly handsome smirk and shrugged, explaining that him and Y/D/N had gotten to know each other well…and they’d formed an alliance.
•Gibbs never had to earn the love of your dog ever again, and as you saw them curled up on the sofa together, Gibbs reading aloud to the precious pooch in his arms, your heart felt full!
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bloodycassian · 3 years
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Tender - Azriel x reader - Pregnancy fic. Fem! reader. LONG!!! 
Prompt -  Hi! I just read most of your imagines, and i loved them!  You have me as your faithful follower, I don't comment much because English is not my first language. Could you write one where az manages to perceive that reader is pregnant right in the middle of the war?
You woke to yelling. Not screaming. Not fear or pain, but battle cries that you'd grown to love. They made your blood sing in harmony with the Illyrian voices. It made your heart hammer in your chest, and your muscles tense - ready to fight. Azriel groaned beside you, curling around your waist like a vise. You managed to break free from his muscled arms. Pale light shining through the tent tinted his shadows a light gray. They wrapped around you, drawing a chill down your spine. The war cries grew louder. "Get up. It's time." You shook him, pulling on your light armor. He covered his face with his hands, and did not leave the cot. He groaned again when you pulled the blanket off his mostly naked body. He was never a morning person.  Cassian rushed in when you were putting the last of your gear on, and Az froze. His grip on his pants went white knuckled. Cassian's face was pale, and before he could say anything Azriel was hurriedly pulling on the rest of his clothes. Your stomach dropped at the sight of the Warlord. "It's a diversion." You said, voice hollow. Cassian's slight nod was enough to make the breath leave you. "It's going to be fine." Azriel grunted, pulling his tunic over his head. "We just need to move the troops. Get Rhys here." He waved a hand at his brother dismissively.  Cassian grabbed Az's wrist.  He forced the male to look at him, to see his worried eyes. You tensed, ready to defend your mate even against Cassian's might. "Rhys is on the battlefield already. We're on our own." His voice was low, and the warning in his eyes was enough to make the hair on your arms raise. Azriel pulled away from him, slowly.  He began strapping his weapons belts on, pushed his hair back and sighed. "Where do you need us?"   The air was cold, and the howls of battle echoed across the hills. Azriel's shadows curled around your legs, comforting. Then they slithered their way across the valley where the battle was beginning.  + You could barely raise your sword by the end of it. The mud had been the most challenging part of the entire fight. The enemy horses had done a good job of making obstacles when they fell in the mud, lame with broken ankles and necks. You wished to put them out of their misery, but there was no time. The forces seemed to come in waves. Like a test against your small unit.  Few were lost from your side. The dewey grass steamed in the morning light, carrying up the reek of enemy blood with it. You wiped your face, trying to get the taste of dirt and blood out of your mouth. Sharp stinging pain seared your ribs under your arm. You hissed. Then, you felt the warmth of your own blood. You swore, and looked for a medic that wasn't tending to wounded on the ground.  Some Illyrian bodies were being lifted away, high into the air for burial at their homes. You dared not take a healer away from more critically injured soldiers. You nodded grimly to the ones that you passed. They were covered in blood, and yet still gave you fierce grins when you went by. They respected you. More than any other Illyrian Female before you. It was sad, but you hoped to forge a new path for other females of Illyria. You held an arm under your side and limped your way out of the mud. The packed mess inside your boots made moving your feet hard. You couldn't wait to shower.  You spotted Cassian far down the field, and watched as he raised his sword high over his head. Your stomach twisted in pity for the suffering animal under him. You looked away before you could see the lifeblood drain from the horse's neck. He sent a blessing to the Mother for the animal, and continued on to the next suffering soul that would meet its end via his blade.  + You hadn't seen her in a long while. Too long for a friend, but she gave you that same look she always did when she saw you hobbling up to her for help. Jeva was your favorite healer, and one you knew could keep a secret. She was round, and her voice was light and comforting. She smelled of nutmeg and berries. Something you had appreciated about her since you had met. "What is it this time?" She waved you inside, holding the tent flap open for you while you dumped your battle stained gear on the wood hutch beside the entrance.  The tent was light and airy, filled with small plants of different varieties and cluttered with boxes and books everywhere. Her desk and bed were shoved to the corner, and a long wood table took up the majority of her area. As if she had known you were coming, she already had potions of different types laid out on the end of the table. "Probably nothing." You said, pulling off your armor as gingerly as you could manage. The soft light flickered and changed to a harsh beam when she laid you down on her exam table. "I'm not supposed to be healing anymore you know. I'm retired." She clicked her tongue at you, earning a pained grin. It was hard for you to bother a healer for any amount of time for something that you were sure was so small. But something about it stung too much for it to be just a scrape. And you knew Cassian would lecture you about it being infected if he saw through your mask to the pain. Az would force you to see one anyway as soon as he learned of it.  "You know I wouldnt be here unless I had to be, Jeva." You said through your teeth as she cut away your muddied undershirt.  "Oh, I know. That's why I have my best potions ready." She laughed, then paused. Your shirt lay limp on the table. Her eyebrows knitted together at the sight of your open wound. "Is it bad?" You asked, craning to try to look for yourself. She held you down.  "Metal. Fragments are still in here, likely why it hasn't healed yet." You relaxed at that, grateful that it wasn't worse. "Thank the Mother. Az would have yelled all night." You rolled your eyes, and sighed as she started working on you. The first part was always the worst. The stinging hot potion that made the nerves around the wound numb.  "One-" She began her countdown, then poured. You growled at her, gripping the end of the stained table hard enough to crack. "Easy..." She warned, and smoothed down your hair. She knew how to take care of her patients, that was certain. You relaxed as the stinging eased. The dull ache that it left behind turned into a bad memory.  "I'm going to extract the blade then we can close you up. Simple and easy." She picked up her tools and began tugging away at your side. You could have fallen asleep with the relief the numbing potion brought. And with her humming in the air around you, it was a struggle not to. The time seemed to pass quickly, but when the clank of the metal tools jolted you from your dozing, the tent was lit in orange from the sunset outside. "Relax, we're going to close it up now. Once the potion wears off you will still be sensitive." She placed her hands over you, and the familiar warm vibrations of her healing magic set in. Then it stopped abruptly. You cracked open an eye, then narrowed your brows at her. "What is it?" You said gently, then again when she didnt reply. She stared at you, mouth agape. Her eyes locked to yours, even when you sat up to demand she tell you what the problem was. "Am I dying?!" you took her hand gently, in case she was going to push you away.  Then she started laughing, her hand gripping yours back. The warmth glowed in your palm, the light radiating out from it was starkly contrasting the tent walls bedecked in orange. The light she emitted shot through you, and you felt the wound tingle, and seal. You stared at her in shock. That amount of healing power was incredible. Especially for field medics.  "Youre not dying, no..." She waved a hand, fanning herself. Her eyes were glassy with tears. She sniffed and clutched your hand tighter. "Quite the opposite, darling." She pulled you in for a warm hug.  + You spent the rest of the evening with Jeva. Until she got a hurried message about student healers needing help on the battlefield. You stayed in her tent as long as you could manage with the ringing in your ears. You stared and stared at the mirror across from you, showing you the bloodied warrior that you wanted to be. That you wanted to stay.  The warrior that carried the Shadowsinger's child.  The thought made tears sting your eyes. You refused to let them fall. You had been ignoring his tugs down the bond for well over an hour. You knew he was concerned, but you couldn't bring yourself to shout back down. The only thing that echoed in your mind were Jeva's words "You're pregnant..."  Pregnant. Pregnant. Pregnant.  You nearly punched her when she told you she wasn't joking. The only reason you even believed her was because of that powerful zap of healing she sent to you. That she sent to scan your body and make sure the fetus was okay before you even knew about it. You could barely hear half the words she said as she told you your options.  You roiled with the thought now. The Mugwart she left on the table was daunting. You desperately wanted her back. Jeva would be able to deliberate with you. You knew she would tell you to do whatever makes you happy. You knew that. But you wondered how ethical the choice that made you happy was. Bringing a child into a world of war seemed cruel. Even if it made you happy. You distantly noticed Azriel as you passed him, walking to the forest edge just passed your tent. Worry laced the bond between you. You tried not to show anything back. But you knew he felt the tension, the void there. "Where the hell have you been?!" Azriel's eyes were furious when you passed him, his wings flared out slightly. You couldnt even look at him with anger back. Your emotions ran wild. You were frozen, and as numb as the potion Jeva had given you when she began removing the blade.  "Do you know how worried I have been?! I sent Cassian to-" He tried to grab for your hand to stop you, but you flicked him away. He stopped for a moment, stunned. Then returned with more energy than before. That yawning abyss in your bond was growing darker with shame, worry and anxiety. His shadows roiled around him as he caught up. "You dont get to-" "Azriel..." You stopped in the edge of the clearing. The small meadow was silent in the darkness, not even the monsters of Prythian dared roar tonight. Your mind did all the roaring you could handle, anyway. You tried to focus on the swaying grass, on the soft smell of wet bark and pine hanging in the air.  "Dont try to excuse this I need to know you're okay and-" He stormed in front of you, ready to burst with rage. His fear always made him angry. And for good reason after losing so many close to him.  A tear ran down your cheek, your face burned hot with hundreds of feelings at once. Fear, pain, shock, joy, hope.... elation. You wanted his children. You wanted to help raise his child. You wanted to see Azriel be a father. You knew he would be the best damn Illyrian father there had ever been.  The thought hit you like a well placed punch.  He saw your paleness, your tears and stopped his yelling. You fell to your knees, the mud splattering all around you. You wanted to lay down. Lay down and think about the implications of carrying his child. Would it be good for the baby to be born at all? Just because you wanted it didnt mean it needed to happen. You knew that Jeva would give you a potion to extract it without hesitation if it was what you wished. "I'm-" You choked out, fighting the panic that flooded you. Your mind roiled with the conflict of your mind and heart. It turned you into a muddied, dark ocean on the bond. A turmoil that he couldn't see past. If you were an ocean, he was your lighthouse on the cliffside. Signaling you home.   His eyes darted to your body, to your hands and how they wrung together in front of you. "I'm sorry. I just-" He sighed and took one of your hands. "I'm sorry." He kissed the back of it and brought his forehead to yours. He normally needed a lot longer to cool down after a fight, but seeing you in tears shocked him out of his pride. "I shouldn't have said that... I know you can take care of yourself." his voice was low, and he ran a hand comfortingly down your back. A hysteric laugh bubbled from your throat. It sounded like a sob. You didn't know exactly which it was. He sat back and pulled you into his lap, despite the grass being dewey and damp. He rocked you there for a few seconds before you had to tell him. Before he could be too close if he didnt want you anymore. The doubt crept into your head, and the nerves ate at you. Your heart raced, you could feel it in your neck. "Azriel..stop." You pushed away from him, to catch his beautiful dark eyes. They were painted in a silver hue by the moon above. You took in his face, the curve of his cheeks and lips for possibly the last time. You had to consider the worst possible outcome. You braced yourself for the rejection, for the pain of his reaction. You knew it had to come out. You knew you had to say it now or you never would. Your stomach flipped over and over.  You opened your mouth, a soft sob wracking out of you before you began. He froze. Went utterly still, his shadows even stopping for a second before whirling faster than before. Your eyes went wide. His nose flared, eyes narrowed. He held you closer, sniffing at your neck. He pulled back and his eyes were even wider than before. His mouth fell open when you nodded. "I'm-" "Youre-" his face went through a whirlwind of different emotion. Then, he broke out into a small laugh. He couldn't stop. You felt the tears running down your cheeks and didnt bother to wipe them away. "Honey... I'm sorry." He stopped laughing suddenly. "What do you want to do?" His eyes were masked, his expression the most serious you'd ever seen him. His aura on your bond seemed to go completely gray and still, as if he didn't want you to see him. He masked everything. In preparation for whatever you decide. The gesture made your heart squeeze in appreciation. You stammered, resting your forehead on his. "I dont know." You muttered, voice cracking. Then, he was wrapping his arms around you in a smothering hug. When he pulled away, he cradled your face in his hands. The hands that had seen so much cruelty in his life. The possibilities of the same thing happening to your child made your heart race. "I'm here for whatever decision you make." He brushed your cheek with a thumb. You nodded and let him hold you like that for a while. Quietly rocking back and forth with you in his lap. + You were near falling asleep when the war cries rang out again. Illyrians howling for their leaders to join them. Another onslaught of death coming their way. The calls were distant, but Azriel tensed the second he heard them. Your blood went cold. He buried his face to your chest, as if he wished he could hide there. "I'm not going." He said when you tried pushing him away. "I wont leave you." He promised, locking his muscled forearms around you. The echoes of battle cries faded. He stroked your hair, and traced his fingers along your back. Then he swore. "Let me take care of this." He said, voice edged with anger. Nerves pricked at your stomach, but you stood, wobbling on your feet slightly. He took off into the night sky painted in silvers and blues by the full moon. Then came racing back down right behind Rhys. the high lord took one breath and then he was hugging his brother. Azriel shoved him off, and they shot into the night sky. Well, Azriel did. He dragged Rhys with him. Grunts of pain and fleshy sounds of punching rang out.  You followed them high into the air where they had their conversation. Your wings led you around them with ease. "Stop fighting and use your words, boys." You warned. You recognized Azriels growl and smiled to yourself as they broke apart. Rhys adjusted his tunic and cleared his throat. "I need you there. Cassian is handling the Western front, the others need a leader."  Azriel began protesting against the high lord. "I cant with my mate-" "I know it feels impossible right now but-" "I will not, Rhys-" You set your jaw. If they wanted to fight over if you needed protection or not, you would take the option off the table all together. "I'll go." you said, voice strong since hearing Jeva announce what grew inside you. Pregnant, pregnant, pregnant. You shoved the thoughts away as far as you could. They both turned to you, horror striking Azriels features. "Absolutely not. No." Heat and rage flared down the bond. It made you want to defy everything he said. You locked eyes with him and glared. Rhys glanced between you with tense shoulders. He cleared his throat. "It would be a good compromise, Azriel. You can go together to the Eastern front. Think about it." He placed a hand on his brother's shoulder and gave him a grim smile.  "I wont say a word." He said, summoning the darkness around him then winnowing away. Azriel's cold eyes made him look like a statue. "Let's go." He said, and started circling lower. Back to the meadow.  "I'm going, you cant stop me from following you." You said, expecting a fight. He said nothing. You were met with that silence that drove others crazy tryin to find out what he wanted from them. The bond seemed to snap taut, then go into a relaxed state. He was hiding. You knew it, but would rather have silence and peace than him trying to fight you again.  He walked you back to the tent, and exhaustion took you under before you could remember him laying down with you. You hoped it it was exhaustion, and not whatever the baby was doing to you. Despite your best efforts, you couldn't resist the urge to cradle your belly while you slept. There was no bump, but it felt like the most natural thing to do now that you were aware of the being inside you. You slept hard, and awoke to the breakfast bell chiming. The sounds of slow footsteps marching through the mud kept you awake. Azriel was gone, but the candle on the table was lit. A note lay there waiting for you. His messy scrawl made you smile, the familiarity of his writing reminded you of the notes he would leave you when he had to leave early for meetings with Rhys. "Back by nightfall, lover. A guard is at the tent, ask her to bring you anything you need. -A" You peeked outside the tent to see Jeva there, her long fur coat shimmering in the morning light. Her breath clouded in front of her when she gave you a soft smile. "Good morning." She pulled a muffin from her coat. "Your favorite." She winked, and you pulled her inside. She had a fire roaring by the time you finished your food. "How are you not freezing?" She complained, blowing into her hands to keep them warm. You brushed the crumbs from your shirt and really took into account the changes you'd noticed lately. How hungry you'd been, how tired after the easiest days.  "Do you know... How um..." You gestured to your stomach. She gave a small smile and nodded. "Only a month or so." She said quietly. You stared at your stomach, as if waiting for something to answer you. To give some sort of affirmation that Jeva was right. She continued warming herself by the fire, and soon the tent was filled with her warm chestnut smell. Cassian entered the tent when you were starting to doze off again. The wool blanket on your lap reminded you of a time when you first met Az. Your heart squeezed at the memory of those long nights shared together by a fire. Taking your turns on watch duty. You shook yourself from the memory. Cassian froze. His face scrunched up at the sight of you. The scent, you realised. You swore to yourself, and Jeva only nodded when he looked to her. "Youre pregnant?" He asked breathlessly, and you could smell the fear and excitement coming from him. In fact, you could smell the smoked meat on his breath. And the cold air that clung to him from outside. It was refreshing, like a cool drink on a hot day amid the dry heat inside the tent. "I'm sorry, I shouldnt have.." He ran a hand through his hair, trying to remain focused.  "Its okay, Cass. What's going on? Az left me this note." You handed it to him. His lips moved as he read it. He went white as bone. Your stomach dropped.  + Azriel had gone in the night to take out the entire eastern flank with a small group of Illyrians. You felt your world skittering away as Cassian told you. Your vision went blurry, and tears fell, dripping on your hands that clenched the wool blanket.  "He's on his way here now. He had to answer to Rhys first."  Cassian waited for you to say anything. But your lips just couldnt form the words. The hurt, anger... the betrayal you felt for him going to battle without you. And defying a direct order from his high lord like a fool. "I suggest you leave before Azriel comes back. It may get messy." Jeva spoke for you, and you were grateful. You gave Cassian a nod of thanks before he turned and left. The cold wind that blew in from the door gave you goosebumps.  "Take it easy, you dont want to be too stressed." Jeva handed you a mug of tea and gave you a small squeeze. You could smell Azriel before he entered. Jeva shot him a glare, but said nothing. "I'll be in my tent if you need me." She promised, gave you a look that said 'find me after' and left. Azriel took off his armor plates one by one. A bit too slowly to be considered normal. Stalling. You said nothing. You let the tension roil out of you, let it hit him down the bond. Like a wave getting ready to break. He rolled his shoulders, stretched his wings.  The mask he wore cracked when he saw your fists balled in the blanket. "I couldnt risk you... or the babe." He tried to hide the fear that shone through. The fear of his mate or child being hurt in battle. He wouldnt be able to stand it. The fight was needed, anyway. He needed to get out his instincts to protect protect protect.  You said nothing. You let that looming wave grow larger. He sighed, and sat at the end of the cot beside you. "I'm sorry. I needed....I needed to get my head straight. I should have told you. I'm sorry." That wave crashed, not on him though. Internally, guilt and fear melting in on yourself. "I cant lose you, we... We cant." You said through your teeth, trying to hold back the tears that begged to spill over. He tried his best to hold back his surprise. "We?" He asked, a small smile playing on his full lips.  You gave him a grim smile. "If you're...ready to be a father. I like imagining you, with my child."  "Our child." He said with a bubbling laugh. You laughed with him, and it turned to hysterics.  He wiped tears from the corner of your eyes. "We're going to have a baby?" He cradled your face, looking into your eyes. You took one of his hands, and placed it on your flat belly. "Yes. We are." You said, voice quivering.  He wrapped you into a hug, and you cried together in the cot. 
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katsukikitten · 3 years
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Rapacious - rə-ˈpā-shəs- excessively grasping or covetous, living on prey,  ravenous
(A rapacious appetite only for you my doll)
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Hello and welcome to my first formal collab with the lovely @lady-bakuhoe Our thirsty dms finally turned into a full blown collab where our writing melds into one. I hope y'all enjoy reading it as much as we did writing it! (。•̀ᴗ-)✧
✧Triggers and Warnings ✧
Pro Hero Dynamight, aged up AU, adult themes, such as intense sexual interaction, yandere behavior, mind break (?), branding, and dub con. If any of these topics make you uncomfortable please do not read any further. Thank you.
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The snow comes down heavily, beautifully as it sticks and clings to anything it can. Blanketing the outside world in an unsullied shimmer bringing a smile to your face as you watch the sun dip low over the horizon. The light painting the world in stunning reds and pinks as it filters in through your bay window that faces the street. A small shiver runs through your spine as you wait impatiently for your warm tea, convincing yourself that the chill has nothing to do with your outfit. An oversized Red Riot t-shirt, a pair of black dolphin shorts and black thigh high socks, it was comfortable and you felt cute. Even if it was just for yourself, besides what else would one wear to their solo Netflix binging? Surely not pants. 
A rapid knock comes at the door. Harsh, precise as you jump out of your skin, nearly dropping your mug. 
Lifting your cell phone to check the time, wondering who could be knocking at this hour, it was far too late for any visitors and it surely wasn't the post. The icy snow ensured that most people would be snuggled into their couches with a warm cup of tea, tucked away from the harsh weather. Much like you were trying to do, maybe if you ignored it the unsuspecting visitor would move on. 
But another sharp knock echoes around your living room, urging your feet to move. You pad through your small townhouse, trying to get a glimpse through the window only for the unwanted guest to be standing just out of view. Your heart pounds in your chest as you stare at the thick oak door, debating on whether to open it or not as another knock sounded from the other side. Curiosity with a hint of fear compels your fingers as you click your door onto the chain latch. Opening it slightly, looking out between the crack in the door to see who it was.
“H-hi.” Your eyes caught sight of the man outside your house, pupils widening in surprise at the sight of him. Messy ash blond spikes on top of his head as his hair faded to a low buzz cut at the sides, “Dynamight?” 
The man's scowl morphed into a smirk at your recognition, obviously proud that you knew who he was, his vermilion eyes glistening in the light gleaming from your house as you moved to take the door off the security latch, opening it fully so you could see him properly. His gaze immediately drank you in, glancing at the thigh high socks that hugged your thighs as he made his way up to the hem of your shirt, cherishing the exposed skin of your upper thighs until he noticed the shirt you were wearing. His nostrils flaring slightly at the sight of his best friend's face across your chest. It should be his. 
“My car broke down.” He motioned to the car that now sat motionless at the end of your drive, fresh snow already falling and covering its windscreen, “Can I come inside?” 
"Oh, um…" You're hesitant, technically you didn't know Dynamight but he was a pro hero. That meant he could be trusted right? Snow sticks to his blonde strands and shoulders. His hands and nose were a little red making it seem as if he had been in the cold a touch too long. Swallowing your fear you take a step back from the door, arm gesturing for him to come in. Silently elated he steps in as if he owns the place. What were the odds he would end up at your doorstep? 
"Um, can I offer you some coffee? Coco? Tea?" Your voice sounds small, stupid. Nervousness prickles over your skin as he sinks into your couch. 
"Tea is fine." His voice is silky and foreign in your warm home. He watches you with sharp eyes as you reach for a mug. Your short shorts ride up just a bit as your shirt gives him a tease of your back. 
Meanwhile you're buzzing from head to toe, THE one and ONLY Dynamight, the man you'd been dreaming of since his debut, the only face and voice that you ever imagined when your hands ventured into your soaked panties, was here. In your home, sitting on your couch and oh Gods...Which blanket did you have out? Was it his that you sprayed with his line of cologne so you would feel less lonely in your apartment? 
The kettle howls pulling you violently back to the task at hand. Should you ask him how he'd like his tea? You already know how he likes it, having read it in a magazine once committing it to memory in case you ever met him. But would that come off too strong? You settle on making it perfectly  in hopes it would paint you in the light of a "great hostess."  You grab onto the cup and turn to face the ill tempered hero head on. 
He turns away in time, relaxed on your couch as you offer him his cup. He takes it from your hands, his cool fingers brushing against yours. He takes a sip, peering at you over the rim. His vermillion eyes cause your stomach to flip as you nervously twist the hem of your shirt. His eyes rake over you with a smirk before they land on your worrying hands and that damned Red Riot shirt. Suddenly you're hyper aware of your inappropriate outfit, tugging your shirt over your exposed skin. 
His large palm settles on your thigh, starling you. 
"The outfit isn't the problem. I just think you look much better in my shirt." He tugs at the hem, "Maybe you should take this one off." 
“W-what?” You stammered, your body instinctively shrinking away from his touch.
“There’s just something about the way my face looks stretched against those tits.” He smirked, taking a sip of the warm mug before slipping it into your coffee table.
“What do you mean?” Confusion evident in your tone. What was he talking about? Your Dynamight merchandise? How would he have any idea about how much of a fan you were of him, just how many of his shirts sat in your closet right now. 
“Don’t act all coy.” Bakugou continued, turning his body to face yours on the couch, a dark look in his vermillion eyes as his fingers danced higher up your exposed thigh, feeling a warmth begin to seep from his palm as his cool calloused fingertips dig into your skin, “You know exactly what you’re doing.” 
“I assure you, Dynamight.” Bakugou groaned at the way his hero name sounded spilling from your lips, “I don’t know what you’re talking about?”
“Every day you’re out there being a fuckin’ tease.” He growled, biting your lip as you felt his blunt fingernails digging into the plush of your thigh, “Prancing around in these short fuckin’ shorts and my shirts.” 
Wait, had he seen you wearing his merch before? Had he seen you in his clothes? How? You were certain he’d never seen the multiple selfies you’d take of yourself to upload onto social media, always too scared to tag your favourite Hero. Instead proclaiming your love for him shamelessly on your socials, gushing about how he was the perfect hero. Still, even if he was lurking on your accounts, he couldn't possibly remember someone as lowly as you. 
“You knew I was watching you, didn’t you?” He snarled, his other hand moving up to palm your breast through your shirt, the action catching you by surprise as you gasped, “You wanted me to see you acting like such a slut.”
“N-no, Dynamight. I wasn’t-” You stammer as you think back, trying to remember all of the times you thought you felt a weighted gaze on you. Only to look over your shoulder to find nothing before submerging yourself back into your mundane world.
"Wasn't what? You mean you weren't trying to show the whole neighborhood your ass when you bent over 'pulling weeds'?" His palm becomes uncomfortably hot as his voice dips lower, lips brushing your ear as you drown in his spiced caramel scent. 
"Maybe you heard about your new neighbor Pro Hero Red Riot, wanted to show off for him? Or maybe you're just a slut who loves the attention?" 
Your blood runs cold, icy despite his burning palm, you swallow thickly as he continues to recite your summer as if reading from a list. 
"You know exactly what you're doing don'tchya? So many men have changed their jogging route to include your street, even if it is well out of their way. They slow their pace in front of your house when you're outside. Bent over, head lost in your garden and your skin tight shorts show your plump lips, your thick thighs and that supple, soft ass. Tits almost falling out from your crop tops as you must refuse to wear a bra. But you're such a good girl, reminding everyone who you belong to when you wear those shorts with my name across the ass." 
He leans away from you to hold your gaze. A shiver runs up your spine, you had never posted those shorts. The fan made ones that say "Bakugou's" across the ass, fuck how did he-?
He reads the question across your face, a nasty smirk dances on his cruel lips as he takes delight in the fear that blows your pupils wide. 
"I've been watching you Princess." You feel your heart beating out of your chest at the realisation, “But you knew that already, didn’t you?”
You didn’t.
“That’s why you put on such a show for me every time, isn’t it?” 
 You hadn’t noticed your favourite Pro-Hero had been watching you all this time. You were beyond excited when Red Riot had moved into the neighbourhood, wishing you’d catch a glimpse of him each time you left your house. Getting up early some mornings just to see the red head stretching for his morning run, his muscles taut across his thick frame. But not once had Bakugou been anywhere in sight. You were sure you'd remember the ash blonde standing next to your second favorite hero. 
“You do it on purpose.” Bakugou growled, his hand moving to your exposed waist, stroking against your naked skin as his fingers dipped underneath your top, “It turns you on doesn’t it? Everyone looking at your slutty little body.”
“No, please. It doesn’t- I’m not.” You tried to move away from him, but he already had your body trapped between the arm of the couch and his large, muscular frame. 
“All those eyes on you and you don’t give a fuck.” Bakugou’s large palm grasps your round breast, groaning when he feels your nipple pebbled underneath his touch, “You want everyone to see you.”
Before you have a moment to object, to tell him how wrong he is, his lips are already against yours in a sultry kiss. Your mind hazy as he immediately prods your lips with his tongue, desperate for entrance as he invades your mouth. You couldn’t believe what was happening, The Dynamight was inside your house. Your entire body burning as his heat engulfed you, this was something you’d dreamed about more than you could recollect. The amount of nights you’d touched yourself to the thought of his hands dancing across your body. Trying to imagine how it would feel to be completely ravaged by him, but now that he was here in the flesh you were nervous. The reality of the situation slowly consumes your body as your heart beats with more intensity. 
“God, you’re fuckin’ perfect.” Bakugou rasps huskily as he tugs your shirt up and over your breasts, his vermilion eyes taking in the sight of your exposed chest to his prying eyes, “Even better than I imagined.”
You nervously tried to move your arms to your chest, trying to hide your body from his burning gaze, but his hand was quick to grab your wrist, tugging your arm away with a glare, “Don’t.”
You averted your eyes from his own, biting your bottom lip as he lowered his face to your chest. His tongue tentatively coming out to lap around your darkened areola, closing his lips around your hardened nipple as he began to suck on the tender skin. Your head falling onto the back of the couch as you let out a low whine, one of your hands coming up to brush through his buzzed undercut, stroking against the spiky hair as you arched your back into his touch. 
“You’ve no idea how long I’ve been thinking about this, sweetheart.” He murmured around your nipple, his warm breath fanning against your skin as his teeth grazed against the sensitive skin. An airy gasp leaving your parted lips at the sensation as you involuntarily arched your back into his touch, “Every fuckin’ time I saw you-”
Wait? Every time he saw you? How often did he seek out your address? How many times did his crimson eyes burn into your skin without your noticing? 
Your eyes dart to the large bay window, holding eye contact with yourself as you stare at your reflection. A pitiful and clear sight as the blonde's hands groped your exposed tits. If the pro hero was brazen enough to peer through your unobstructed window, just how many other eyes fall onto you? 
“When I saw you in my signed debut Dynamight shirt, I knew I had to have you.” His lips curving into a grin against your skin as his tongue lapped at your hardened nipple, rolling the other one between his thumb and forefinger, “There’s just something about the sight of you in my clothes.”
At the mention of your rare signed shirt your body goes rigid, numb. If he had seen you in the shirt you mostly kept tucked away for safekeeping, he had seen everything hadn't he? 
“Don’t go all shy on me now, Princess.” He released your nipple with a pop, palming your breast with a grin as he pressed his lips against your own, “Weren’t shy when you were putting on a show for everyone, were you?”
Your bottom lip trembled at the suggestion, worrying it between your teeth as you felt Bakugou lean forward to grab your wrist in a large hand, the scent of his quirk filling the air as you felt the heat radiating from his palm. Vermilion eyes glancing down at your half-lidded ones, a glazed expression over your features as you focused on his touch.
“Look at what you fuckin’ do to me, sweetheart.” Bakugou tightened his grip on your wrist, moving your hand towards his crotch. His cock bulging against his pants, desperate to be released as he lay your palm against him. Gasping at the sensation as your palm made contact with the fabric, feeling just how hard he was for you underneath the denim.
All the while his thoughts are consumed by you, your smell, the look of surprise on your face. The feel of your skin against his and the heat of your breath tickling his ear when he pins you to the couch. 
All of the things he'd been imagining for the last few months. Your small hand against his large, twitching cock. Even through the fabric your warmth is hypnotizing, drawing him in and captivating him with every inch of you.
Bakugou's problem is that he can be greedy, hungry for more. Wanting nothing but the best and much like his sun sign, once he had his eyes set on something nothing could overcome his stubborn ambition. Not even the small look of fear in your eyes but even he can see that it is fading, melding into desire. He watches your fingers flutter, teasingly trying to figure out just how big and girthy he really was. Your heart races as you stare into his clouded vermillion eyes. Blood running hot as your mouth salivates, imagining the same thing he is. 
How does it taste? 
You let out a soft whine, fingers prodding at the head earning you a borderline feral growl. 
"Quit being a fucking tease and take it out, Princess." He groans, you freeze at his bold request.
"B..but…" He crowds you as your protests die in your throat. His lips brushing against your ear as he breathes in your sweet shampoo. 
"But what Princess? Scared I'll fuck you stupid?" He nips at the shell of your ear, chuckling darkly when you shiver, "Or are you scared you'll get addicted to how I taste?" 
"T-taste?" 
"Aw look at you acting all fuckin shy?" He squeezes your thighs with a deadly grip, fingers creeping between them, "You weren't so shy last week sitting in this spot were you?" 
You freeze as you think back to last week, knowing exactly what you were doing, eyes glancing over his broad shoulder to see the snow coming down in sheets through the large bay windows. You thought you were high enough and far enough away from the road, there, there was no way he saw right? 
His fingers press against your clothed sex, rubbing rough circles unable to keep the deadly smirk off of his lips. 
"Your phone in one hand and your other right here. Or maybe," He moves the dark fabric to the side, sliding his fingers to your clit, "It was here." 
You bite back your moans as the rough pad of his fingers circle your clit, just barely grazing over it in an agonizing purposeful fashion. 
"What were you watching again? Amateur porn right? POV with the guy's face hidden but he was in a knock off Dynamight suit wasn't he?" He pulls back to watch your face, twisting with pleasure and horror, body arching towards his touch as your head swims. Cunt clenching as he dips closer to your core for slick. 
"And what did that slutty mouth say?" His smile is cocky, holding eye contact. Silence sits between the two of you as your eyes flutter. He pulls his hand away from your throbbing clit, squeezing against your pulse point.
"I asked a question, Kitten. Now answer it." His voice is dark. 
"Dy-Dynamight." You gasp out, he ruts his hips against your leg. 
"Again." His free hand slips back between your folds, fingers setting a rapid pace that already has you teetering on the edge already. 
"Dynamight!" 
"Again. Say my name again." His fingers work you over as the coil unexpectedly snaps in your stomach. 
"Katuskiiii." You gasp and whine, shamefully cumming all over his thick digits. He groans, shoving his fingers into your cunt to feel you grip onto him, he cannot wait to feel that pretty pussy molding to his aching cock. 
But he would wait, for now. 
"Good girl." He praises, pulling his fingers from your core, licking up them. Savoring your essence as you watch his eyes flutter paying you a high compliment. In quick motions he throws a pillow onto the solid hardwood floor, pulling the hair at the nape of your neck as he pulls you onto the plush cushion. His free hand undoing his belt with deft fingers before he pulls his pants and boxers down. His cock springs free, the head leaking precum as you lick your lips. 
"You're gonna keep being a good girl for me right, Princess?" He coos, dragging his cock across your lips, smearing his sweet and salty pre from cheek to cheek. 
"Fuck do you know how long I've been dreaming of your lips around my cock?" He groans, pulling your hair back to force eye contact. 
"How, how long?" Your question prompts that nasty smile as his crimson eyes gleam with cruelty and lust.
"Months." 
And with that he pulls your hair back hard enough that you cry out in pain. Bakugou takes the opportunity to shove his cock into your mouth. Bottoming out at the back of your throat causing you to gag, your spit eases the roughness of his slow harsh thrusts as your eyes water. 
Nothing could have prepared you for feeling Bakugou inside you for the first time, your wildest fantasies didn’t equate to this. The sheer size of his thick, bulging cock made it difficult for you to take him inside your mouth. The prominent veins that forked along the side dragging against your cheek as he eased you down on his length. Fingers stroking through your hair sweetly, a stark contrast to his previous movements. His husky voice cooing down at you, gentle praises that had you keening, desperate to hear more. The red, swollen tip prodding against the back of your throat as you gagged around him, a mixture of spit and pre dribbling down your chin as you tried to fit more of him inside your mouth hungrily. 
“So fuckin’ greedy.” Bakugou grunted, his fingers carding into your messy hair and tugging harshly against the root, pressing you further down his aching cock. Watching the way your cheeks hollowed around him as you tried to adjust to his size. The movement causing fresh tears to clump in your lashes as you tried desperately to breathe through your nose. His coarse blond pubic hairs tickling your skin as he held your head down on his cock. 
Struggling for oxygen as your tongue lashed against the underside of his length, the salty sweet taste of his cum mixed with the lack of oxygen making you light headed as you felt yourself falling deeper into him. Teeth grazing his sensitive skin as you tried to relax your throat, innocent eyes gazing up at him. The sight almost had him cumming on the spot, it was something he’d thought about for months, stroking himself raw to the thought of your lips wrapped around him. You felt gentle tremors flowing through your body as he finally allowed you a moment of respite, tugging you off his length roughly as you gasped for air.
“So pretty for me,” His warm palm stroked against your cheek, dipping his thumb between your parted lips as he felt you instinctively close your mouth around it. Your tongue swirling around the calloused pad of his thumb as you heard him groan above you, “Look at you.”
“How many times have you played with that slutty little pussy to the thought of me, hah?” Bakugou mused, his thumb slipping from your mouth as he pulled down your lower lip, watching the way your face followed after his hand to try and pull him back in.
“P-please.” You trembled, already feeling your clit throbbing painfully between your thighs, already feeling unsatiated as crimson eyes glared down at you.
“I bet you’ve never had anything this big inside you,” He wrapped his palm around his cock, smirking when he noticed your eyes hyper focused on him, “Have you?”
You shook your head nervously, even the toys you’d experimented before didn’t equate to his sheer size, “N-no, Dynamight.”
“I’m gonna make you feel so fuckin’ good, Princess.” Bakugou’s thoughts already flooding to how your tight little cunt would feel being split around his cock. Moulding it to his size so you’d never be satisfied with anything or anyone else. You were going to be his and his alone, and he’d do anything to ensure that happened, “Wanna feel that tight little pussy wrapped around my cock, yeah?”
His words sending more pleasurable jolts to your core, rubbing your thighs together in anticipation as he helped you to your feet, his large palms keeping against your hips as he dipped his fingers beneath the hem of your shorts. Sliding the material down your thighs with one rough tug, exposing your naked body to his prying eyes. The sight of you completely bare in front of him had his cock twitching almost painfully, you were even more perfect than he had imagined.
“C’mere, Princess.” He cooed gently, a stark contrast to his earlier actions. You keened as you slid onto his lap, feeling his thick cock pressed snugly between your folds as you placed your hands on his broad shoulders to steady yourself. Your fingertips digging into his shirt as you tried feebly to get him to take it off.
“So needy,” He smirked, leaning forward to tug his shirt up and over his head. His chiselled abs now on full display as you focused in on each sharp ridge. He was even more perfect in person, and you couldn’t quite believe that the Dynamight was now in front of you.
Bakugou’s large palms moved back to your hips, pressing you down against his cock as you felt the length stroke against your slit, involuntarily grinding down against him as you tried to give your clit some much needed stimulation. The action did not go unnoticed by Bakugou who smirked at your desperation, digging his fingertips into your skin as he began to circle your hips against his cock. 
“You’re soaking my cock and I haven’t even put it in yet,” He smirked as he felt your slick coating his length, watching in amusement as you continued to grind yourself against him, trying to give yourself some relief, “Bet you could get yourself off just like this, hah?”
“No,” You whined, “Please,”
“Please, what?” He coaxed, his fingers slipping between your bodies to tease your puffy clit, a harsh laugh leaving his lips when he felt the way your body jerked at his touch.
“Please,” You trailed off, suddenly feeling incredibly nervous and self-conscious that you were now very much naked in front of your favourite Pro-Hero.
“You don’t seem to want it enough, Princess.” Bakugou teased, moving you away from his cock as you groaned in displeasure. Your eyes looking down at his shaft that was now coated in a layer of your slick. Fresh pre spilling from the tip as you reached out to grab him between your fingers. Bakugou’s reflexes were quicker as he caught your wrist in his large palm, giving you a warning look as his nostrils flared. 
“So fuckin’ greedy.” He moved his hands back to grab your ass, kneading the round mounds as he moved you to hover over his cock, vermilion eyes gazing up at you as he waited for you to speak, “You want my cock?”
“Yeah-” You felt your head nodding before you’d even had a chance to think, desperate to feel him sliding inside your warmth, splitting you open as he buried himself deep inside you. 
“Yeah?” He mocked, tilting his head to the side as he pressed a kiss against your pebbled nipple, “Then fuckin’ beg for it.”
“Please, Dynamight.” You rolled your hips again, grinding against nothing as you tried to create some friction between your thighs, “Want your cock.”
A groan spilled from his lips at such blunt words leaving your pouty lips, calloused fingertips digging into your supple flesh as he pressed you down on the head of his cock. The tip stretching you out slightly as you tried to drop your hips down on him, wanting to feel him deep inside you.
“You want Dynamight to fuck this slutty pussy?” He pulled you away from his cock which caused a needy whine to spill from your lips, trying to angle your hips back towards his length.
Bakugou’s palm wrapping around his cock to drag the swollen, reddened tip along your sopping folds. Feeling your slick coat his skin as it mingled with his pre, watching the way your eyes fluttered at the sensation of his cockhead brushing against your clit.
“Yes.” You hissed, already anticipating the pleasurable stretch his girth would create inside you. The thick head already back at your tight entrance as he watched you shamelessly try and drop your hips down onto him. 
"Yes what?" His voice is dark with pleasure as he glares up at you, a pitiful mess. He's toying with you, as a cat does a mouse and you feel utterly embarrassed. This was Pro hero Dynamight damn it, you wanted to make a good impression. You wanted to be sexy, not some whiny bitch in heat. 
Little did you know how much Bakugou loved it, lived for it as he gently bounced you on just the tip. Driving you wild as you whined, all the while he smirked. 
"Please Katsuki-sama." Your nails rake down his forearms, "Please, please fuck me." 
"That's my good girl." He slams you down on his cock in one swift motion causing your vision to spot. He relishes the way you flutter around him, adjusting as a shiver runs up your spine. 
"Now fuck yourself on my cock, Princess." 
"But-" He wraps his hand around your throat, malice and lust dance in his eyes as his free hand travels to your thigh. Palm heating with each pound of your heart until it begins to become too much, too hot.
"Ride me like you did your fingers last week. You were thinking of me then weren't you, pervert?” You gasped at his crude words, the idea that he had been watching you while you dipped your fingers inside your tight cunt had embarrassment ebbing in your core. Your body trembling as the object of your affections degraded you, “Wishing it was me finger fuckin’ that pretty pussy, yeah?”
Unable to stop the shameless moan that left your parted lips, the sound restricted to a strangled gasp as he kept his palm wrapped tightly around your jugular. 
“Or were you thinking of Red Riot since you love wearing his merch so much, hah.” Bakugou goaded, you could feel his grip against you tightening as his palms heated up dangerously, “Wishing he’d come in and bend you over like the little slut you are.”
“N-no,” You tried to gasp out, feeling lightheaded from the lack of oxygen that flowed through your body.
Bakugou loosened his grip around your neck, keeping his palm against your skin as he leaned his head closer to yours, his warm breath fanning your face as vermilion eyes bored into your own, “What was that?”
“J-just you, Dynamight.” You rasped, a rush of air filling your lungs as your chest heaved against him, “Only for you-”
“Yeah?” His lips curled into a cocky grin, immediately tightening his grip around your throat once more, “That’s fuckin’ right, you should be thinking about me when you play with that sloppy pussy.”
He squeezes both your throat and thigh harder. You rock your hips, fucking yourself on his fat cock as you gasp for air, hands desperately holding onto toned arms for support as the coil in your stomach begins to snap. 
“Now I want you to fuckin' show me how much of a Dynamight fan you really are." He groans at the way you grip around him, tongue lulling past his smirk for just as second. 
If you had to try and describe this feeling it would be something akin to euphoria, a constant throb ebbing through your cunt at the dull stretch his cock caused around your core. His cock moulding you to his shape as he bounced you on his lap, the thick jutting veins along his girth dragging against your inner walls with each pronounced thrust. Desperate cries of pleasure spilling from your lips as he fucked himself into you, hungrily searching to pull more of those sweet sounds from your pretty lips. You felt pearly tears begin to clump in your lashes as he fucked into your tight cunt with vigour, uncaring for giving you a moment of respite as he hungrily used you for his own pleasure. 
“Aw, you gonna cry, Princess?” He sneered, vermilion eyes gazing down at your own as he kept his pace, “I know you fuckin’ love it. I can feel you squeezing my cock.”
“Please-” You couldn’t think of the words, your mind foggy with the juxtaposition of pleasure and pain overwhelming you as he continued to fuck you with reckless abandon. 
“Don’t tell me I’ve already fucked you stupid, dumbass.” He grunted, the calloused pads of his fingers digging into the plush skin of your thighs, crude noising filling the air as you could hear just how wet you were for him, “That sloppy pussy is drooling all over my cock.”
"Who do you belong to?" His husky voice wraps around you like a vice, pulling your heart into your stomach. 
"You." You gasp as the heat of his palm on your leg begins to burn, skin warping beneath his touch. Hand glowing golden as if he were a God while his quirk begins to really activate. The smell of spiced caramel, smoke and scalded flesh cling to the couch and invade your senses as a crude whimper leaves your parted lips. The skin that he’d just burned throbbing under his touch, as heat surged through your body. His sharp thrusts helping to morph the pain you felt into a pure, unabashed pleasure as he watched you worry your bottom lip between your teeth.
"Good girl. Now everyone will know exactly who you belong to." Your eyes flicker away from his face before he uses his finger behind your jaw to meet his gaze, "Look at your King when you cum."
The combination of pleasure and pain paired with the thought of being his makes that delicate coil snap. Your body tenses and freezes as you shake atop his lap, biting nails drawing blood on his arms. He smirks, fucking up into you as another mind numbing orgasim washes over your body. Without withdrawing himself he flips the two of you against the couch. 
“Fuck, look at you.” Your back presses into the cushions as he towers over you. Gazing down and into your eyes as he slowly thrusts into you, switching hands to place one on your unburnt thigh, “So fuckin’ pretty.”
The telltale sounds of his quirk sound in the room as his hands crackle, heating his other palm, readying himself to repeat the action. To mark your body and claim you as his own, so if anyone dared to look at you they would know exactly who you belonged. Permanent hand prints marking you as his. No one else was allowed to have you, not that you had a choice, at least not anymore. 
Bakugou hissed as he felt your cunt continue to flutter around him in the aftershocks of your climax, snapping his hips as his pelvis hits against your puffy clit, head swimming from both pleasure and your primal need to breathe that was being wholly denied.
Bakugou was going to ruin you and you'd let him. 
"Who owns this pretty pussy?" Another possessive question that rockets you to the edge, body hoping for another mark, to make you symmetrical. 
Whole. 
"You." Another raspy breath but it's enough for Bakugou to hear. A silent moan tears from your throat as you try to keep your eyes locked with his. Pain blooming on your thigh with a delicious bite. 
 “What was that?” He snarled, pressing your thigh up against your chest as his arm slid underneath your knee, resting your calf over his shoulder as he changed the angle of his thrusts, his cock delving deeper between your folds as you felt the swollen tip bruising your cervix with each hard rut of his hips, “Say my name.”
“Dynamight.” You called out, already feeling your body throbbing in the telltale signs of another orgasm, your thighs quivering as you felt Bakugou fuck your body into the couch hard before using his grip on your thigh to drag you back into him. 
The crude sound of skin against skin vibrated around the room as his meaty balls slapped against the swell of your ass, Bakugou’s muscular frame dwarfing your own as he used you for his own pleasure. His own little cocksleeve that would succumb to his every request, you would be his and his alone to use as he pleased. 
“Again.” A low growl sounded from the back of his throat, a possessive undertone to it as he urged you on, “Say it again.”
“Dynamight.” You managed to whimper through sobs, tears trickling down your temples now and soaking into your messy hair. The sound of his name spilling from your lips made him readjust his thrusts with newfound intensity. 
“That’s fuckin’ right. Red Riot would never fuck you this good, hah?” He provoked, a clear sign of dominance over you, “You’re fuckin’ made for my cock.”
A cry slipping from your lips as he gave a particularly hard thrust inside your aching cunt, the tip of his length pounding against your cervix as he worked to claim your body as his own, trying to wipe thoughts of anyone else from your mind so all you could think about in this moment was his fat cock buried deep inside your tight heat.
“God, you’re fuckin’ perfect.” He grunted, his eyes mapping out your body as he worked himself against you, “Feel so good.”
Your breasts bounced with the intensity of his thrusts as he felt your inner walls quivering around his cock, already feeling another orgasm creeping up on you, the coil inside you impossibly tight as you tried to remember to breathe. Your vision hazy as you felt yourself becoming lightheaded, white dots blanking your vision as you shook beneath him.
“You gonna cum again already? Greedy fuckin’ bitch.” Bakugou’s lips curved into a grin as he felt your fingernails dig into his forearms, leaving crescent shapes in their wake as a dull ache tingled against his skin at the sensation, “My cock’s better than your fuckin’ fingers, yeah?”
“Yes,” You hissed, your toes curling as you felt yourself succumb to the pleasure. Your tight heat clenching around Bakugou’s cock as an usual sensation flowed through you, an intense throb in your core as you felt the unwavering urge to pee. Tightening your thighs around Bakugou’s firm body in an attempt to stop it from happening as wracked sobs left your body, your lower lip trembling as the sensation became too much. Too intense, too overwhelming as you allowed it to take over, your body crying out as you came. A clear stream of liquid gushing from between your thighs and soaking Bakugou’s crotch, his pace never once faltering as he fucked you through the sensation.
“Look at you, you messy fuckin’ slut” He howled in pleasure as he watched the liquid seep from your folds, “Look at your sloppy little pussy soakin’ my cock.”
“I’m sorry-” You cried out in embarrassment, feeling your heart pound in your chest as you saw his abdomen glistening with your release, “I didn’t mean-”
“What? You never fuckin’ squirted before?” Bakugou’s lips curled into a sly smile, his chest puffed out in pride, “Let’s see if you can do it again.”
Bakugou slipped a hand between your connected bodies to press four fingers against your clit, rubbing it frantically side to side as he tried to prolong the sensation, watching to see more of the clear liquid escape your heat. 
"I can make this pretty little cunt do what I want. Wanna know why?" He leans in with a deadly grin on his lips,  "Cause I own it." 
You cried out as you felt the sensation flowing through you once more, a dull ache in your lower body as more of the clear liquid gushed from your folds. The sight made Bakugou smirk with glee, his fingers relentless against your sensitive nub.
“Couldn’t help yourself, could you?” He goaded, feeling your body trying to shy away from him as you withered beneath him, the pleasure becoming overwhelming, “That fuckin’ desperate.”
“P-please,” You whimpered, your entire body felt unbearably hot. Unable to think coherently as Bakugou continued pounding his thick girth into your core, his warm breath fanning your face as he hovered above you.
“P-please,” He mocked, tilting his head as he glanced down at you, “Please, what?”
“‘S too much,” You stammered, your hand reaching down to wrap around his wrist, trying to tug his fingers away from their assault against your clit.
The movement made him growl, baring his teeth as his hand moved from your clit, reaching up to wrap around the curve of your neck instead as he instantly tightened his grip against your jugular. The action caused your eyes to widen in surprise before your soft whines turned into hungry pants as you tried to gasp for air. Bakugou’s consistent thrusts into your sloppy hole made it difficult to think straight, your body fully focused on the sight of him above you while his hand wrapped tightly around your neck. 
“Gonna fill that sloppy little pussy with cum, yeah?” You flushed at the suggestion, already feeling your inner walls fluttering around his cock at the thought, squeezing his girth as it created more friction as he dragged his cock along your velvety walls, his grip on your neck tightening as you felt your cunt clench around his cock in response, “You’re gonna look so pretty for me all full of my cum, Princess.”
A guttural groan spilled from his parted lips as you watched his eyes roll back, his thrusts stuttering as he came, bottoming out inside you as white hot spurts of cum splashed against your inner walls. His palms stroking along your exposed skin, sliding against the thin sheen of sweat that coated your body as he came down from his climax, humping a few more sloppy thrusts into your cunt as he cherished the sweet way your walls continued to flutter around him. 
You whined as Bakugou slowly eased his hips back, slipping his softening cock out of your quivering folds. His eyes immediately focused on your abused hole as he watched his cum begin to trickle out of you as it dribbled down towards your ass. Unable to resist reaching a finger out to collect the mixture, scooping it up as he slowly pushed it back inside you. Smirking at the way you tried to bat his hand away from your overstimulated folds, this only making him want to tease you more as he moved his finger to press against your inner walls. Swallowing thickly as he felt your body involuntarily clamping down around him in an attempt to pull him back inside you. 
“Such a good girl for me, Princess.” He moved his fingers up to stroke against your puffy clit, laughing at the way you arched your hips away from his touch, trying to stop him from teasing your satiated clit, “Took my cock so well.” 
You mewl in response, clutching your arms to yourself as you shake from the previous events. You looked so small and scared causing a sharp pain to bolt through Bakugou's chest. God he wanted you in his care even more now.
“You were even more perfect than I imagined.” He pulls you to him, trapping you in his embrace as he presses your face into his chest. Hand smoothing your damp hair as he hums lightly. His eyes catching sight of the Red Riot shirt he’d discarded to the floor, a thought occurred to him, one he cannot keep to himself, as another sadistic smile settled on his lips. 
“Kirishima told me not to come over here, said to leave you alone-” He pulls you back so you can look at him, and gods the look you're giving him. Eyes soft and submissive, hazed over in mind numbing pleasure as you float off somewhere far away. Only Bakugou's arms are keeping you bound to Earth. “But I was right wasn’t I, Princess?”
You'll never be able to escape his gravity now. 
“He just wanted you for himself.” His fingers feather over your body before he stands, guessing where the first aid could be. You clutch onto his shirt, eyes desperately glued to your new God as the fading sun washes him over in deep hues of red. The way you look at him makes his cock twitch, feeling the intense power he already holds over you. 
"You'll let your King go." A growl as his fingers find your throat, you nod with fresh tears catching on long lashes as he steps away. Sobbing from his absence before he returns. 
"Don't be a baby, I wasn't that far Princess." His voice all bite while his hands speak the truth. Calloused and scared fingers pressing ointment into the fresh burns tenderly. 
“But you’re mine now aren’t you Princess?” He dots over the burns, rubbing the salve in gently, “All mine.”
He leans away from you, cruelty ever plastered on his smirking lips. 
“Maybe I should show Red Riot what you look like right now, hah?” He pulls out his phone, going to snap a picture. You're hesitant at first but then move to strike a pose, wide eyes looking into the lens of the camera as Bakugou angles it to get the dark bruises and scars that now marr your perfect skin. "Fuck, I think showing him what a good girl you are in person would be much better." 
“W-we shouldn’t-“ You mumble, your heart hammering in your chest at the thought of your sweet neighbour seeing you like this, utterly debauched because of Pro-Hero Dynamight. 
“Don’t be shy, pretty girl.” He coos uncharacteristically, almost mocking you as he watches your lower lip tremble, “I’m sure Red Riot would love to see you like this. Probably jerks himself raw to the thought of you.”
He eases you to your feet, sliding your shorts over your thighs as you hiss when they get to the fresh brand. Your mouth waters from pain as you look down at them. His perfect palm prints etched into your skin forever. You bite your bottom lip, wanting more from Bakugou who slips his jacket over your shoulders before putting your snow boots onto your feet. He makes his way to the door.
"Comin' pervert?" He asks before you rush to your feet,  “Shall we show Red Riot what a desperate little slut his neighbour is?” 
He wraps his arm around your shoulders, engulfing you in his mesmerizing scent and heat. You nod slowly, wanting nothing more than to please your new caretaker. 
“Gotta remind that asshole who the fuck you belong to.”
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devildomimagines · 3 years
Text
MC Almost Gets Abducted by a Flying Demon
Hello~
You ever just have an idea that occupies your head and won’t go away until you write it? Yeah this was one of those.
You’re out with your favorite demon brother and some demon thinks it would be a good idea to try to take you away.
Warning for angst, injuries and kidnapping attempts.
Belphegor
The day had passed without event. Belphie and you were relaxing under a tree in the park.
You offered to go buy some drinks. 
Although he was clearly comfortable, he offered to get the drinks instead.
You smiled as you watched him push himself up and trudged to the closest store. Who said he was selfish?
A few leaves had fallen on the blanket while you had been watching Belphie. You brushed them off.
As you waited for his return a couple more leaves fell. Annoyed, you brushed them off and looked up at the tree.
You were not expecting to make eye contact with a demon in the branches that was already watching you.
Before your mind could make a connection, the demon swooped down and grabbed your arm and leg.
“Belphegor!” You hollered as you clung to the branch with your free arm. The demon was strong and it felt like you would either lose your grip or be torn in half if this kept up any longer.
Belphie was back in a flash, he was already in his demon form.
He was looking between you and the demon trying to figure out what he can do when your grip on the branch faltered.
His tail shot out and grabbed your arm. The barbs bit at your skin but the tuft of soft hair at the end of his tail rested gently against your face reassuring as he moved you towards him.
Once close enough, Belphie grabbed your hand and arm and removed his tail.
The demon looked back to see what was happening and why they couldn’t make their escape. They locked eyes with Belphie’s glare and immediately dropped you to run.
Luckily you were closer to the ground now and fell onto the blanket, your arm still in Belphie’s grasp.
You tried to take a few deep breaths but when you looked up at Belphie, you just broke.
He sat down in front of you and hugged you to his body as your cries were released. Belphie whispered, “I’m sorry MC.”
He felt guilty having left you alone and then further hurting you with the spikes on his tail. The places that the demon had been pulling on you were already blooming into bruises. It reminded him of the time in the attic and his emotions are spiraling. 
When he pulls away slightly to double check your injuries, you see his eyes are watery, tears threatening to spill at any second but he was putting on a brave face for you. You tried to do the same in the moment, for him.
Beelzebub
The two of you had been walking down the street when an ice cream stand caught his attention.
You sat on the nearby bench waiting for him to return.
He was on the way back to you, his ice cream already finished and he was eyeing yours, maybe just a lick?
That is until he heard your scream. He dropped the ice cream to run back to where he left you.
You weren’t on the bench and his heart dropped into his stomach as he looked around. 
You saw him from the air and howled, “Beel!!”
He instantly looked up and found you. Beel ran through the streets transforming into his demon form until he was underneath you and the demon. With a powerful jump, he was flying straight up towards you.
The demon was surprised at the speed that Beel was approaching. In a desperate attempt to leave with their life, the demon threw you to the side and escaped the other way.
You screamed as you started plummeting towards the ground.
Beel was fast and caught you before you could fall far.
You gripped at his clothes as tightly as you could, with hiccupping sobs you whispered his name over and over, “Beel, Beel.”
He hugged you into his body firmly, “I’ve got you,” he assured as you two lowered to the ground, his wings buffering the descent.
Once on the pavement, he placed you back on your feet gently and only pried you away to assess injuries. “Are you ok? Where does it hurt?”
You rubbed your eyes and face, trying to regain composure to answer but the sensation of Beel pushing you away hurt and made you feel worse.
He promptly pulled you back into a hug, noting your crying was worse than when he held you.
“I want to go home,” you finally requested.
Beel nodded and picked you up to carry you back to the House of Lamentation.
Asmodeus
Asmo was surrounded by a group of his fans.
These encounters usually didn’t take long. They would snap a few pictures, he might sign something he collaborated on, a few more pictures or videos and they would be on their way.
This was one of the times where you weren’t included, sometimes being a human was interesting enough to warrant a picture but today’s group only wanted Asmo’s attention.
This was pretty common so you didn’t mind stepping aside and waiting while he did his thing. You were secure enough to know he’d come back to you once he appeased his fans.
With the free moment, you took out your D.D.D. to check the time. 
You two were still ahead of schedule so another moment for the fans wouldn’t be an issue.
That is until your snatched into the air. You dropped your D.D.D. in surprise and screamed.
Asmo was looking for you and spotted your form struggling in the air.
He was angry and the fans backed up a few steps when he changed into his demon form.
One bold fan tried to hold him in place for a quick picture and he brushed them off.
His attention was completely on you and he jumped into pursuit.
His wings were out of practice but he still gained on the demon.
You cried out for him and he tried to offer you a reassuring smile that you would be safe soon.
The demon looked over its shoulder at Asmo’s chase and when their eyes met, Asmo began charming them. “Release MC~”
The demon slowed and started letting you go.
Asmo swooped in and caught you as the demon completely removed its talons from your clothes.
“It’s ok, it’s ok,” Asmo began soothing as he flew as far away as he could.
“Asmo,” you whimpered into his neck.
“I know MC, I’m so sorry, that must have been really scary.”
He held you close all the way home and for a long time after.
Satan
You had been enjoying your time with Satan at an outdoor cafe.
He went inside briefly to get refills. As he was reminding the barista what you each had, he heard a commotion, broken glassware and chairs scuffing the ground, “another fight?” a tired employee asked.
Then you screamed Satan’s name. His breath stopped as he pushed people out of his way to get back outside.
Your table was on its side and you were fighting the demon that was dragging you along by your hair and an arm.
You happened to look back and found Satan. “Help!”
You didn’t have to ask, he turned to his demon form in a fiery flash. Most other demons vacated, no one wanted to stick around the warpath of Wrath incarnate.
His tail whipped the demon’s leg holding your hair. The demon screeched and released its hold.
The release was enough for you to throw your weight away from the demon, that and another whip of Satan’s tail had you freed.
You stumbled towards Satan and he caught you.
“You’re hurt!” he observed, scandalized and new rage bubbling. If you didn’t need medical attention, he’d be hunting the demon.
You were shaken. Your trembling hand went to the scratches and punctures on your arm and shoulder. Although it came away bloody, you didn’t yet feel the pain, “huh.”
“MC?” Satan asked, now worried about your lack of response. He started smoothing your hair while searching your eyes.
“Hm?” You responded but your eyes were glazed over, not really seeing him.
“You’re in shock,” Satan determined, “Let’s go home, ok?” He took your hand on the less affected side and began leading you.
“Ok,” you repeated.
About halfway home it started to hit you. Your legs got heavy, the pain in your shoulder and arm started throbbing, and tears threatened to escape your eyes.
When you began slowing, Satan turned to check on you. Your watery eyes and uneven breathing were dead giveaways your shock had worn off. “Come here,” he pulled you into his arms.
“Satan,” you whined, him being sweet was pushing you over the edge.
“I know,” He adjusted his grip and you realized he was getting ready to carry you so you jumped slightly to wrap your legs around him. “I was so scared,” Satan admitted, “I can’t even imagine how you felt.”
With his confession of being afraid, you broke down into a hard cry.
He held you tightly as he carried you the rest of the way home.
Leviathan
Levi had ducked into a store to check if they had the new release of a game. You stayed outside sipping your beverage and scrolling through your D.D.D.
You hadn’t even seen the demon until it had you in its grasp.
“Levi!” you yelled. Would he even hear you from inside the shop? “Leviiii!” You poured everything you had into your next, “Leviathan!!”
He rushed out from the store looking around for you in a panic.
“Over here!” you cried. You tried to undo the claws holding onto you.
The demon wasn’t flying very high, maybe to keep a low profile.
Levi ran through the crowd, gaining ground on you and the demon. He was already in his demon form and his eyes never left you.
As soon as he was in range, his tail extended and wrapped around the demon’s ankle holding it in place.
The demon struggled for a minute but decided you were not worth the head-on fight with one of the rulers of the realm.
The demon dropped you and you fell the short distance to the pavement, your legs weren’t ready and you collapsed.
Levi was in front of you in a second. You looked up to see he was flustered, angry, and searching you for injuries.
Your shoulders throbbed and your ankles and knees beat in the same rhythm but that wasn’t why you were crying. No, you were crying because, for maybe the first time in the Devildom, you were scared.
Levi wasn’t sure what to say but he couldn’t stand by and watch you cry. He crouched down and held you for a moment before picking you up off the floor.
You wrapped your hands around his neck seeking comfort in his familiar presence.
Your sobs quieted as he walked you two home. When the roaring in your ears died down, you could hear he was talking, maybe rambling. 
You still weren’t in a mental place to make sense of what he was saying but you could tell his words were filled with love trying to distract you.
Mammon
It was flea market day, which meant the two of you were browsing the selection.
Mammon was fond of the flea market because, “Ya never know what you’ll find and one demon’s trash is another’s treasure.”
The stalls lined the street and Mammon flitted from side to side checking out the vendors.
He was totally in his element, bargaining prices and sifting through piles of goods.
You mainly walked along the middle path, maybe following Mammon up to a vendor if something caught your eye. Right now you were at a separate stall but still close by.
Unfortunately not close enough when a demon decided you were the prize of the flea market.
They swooped down and picked you up into the air by your waist.
The pressure made it hard to take a big gulp of air so your call to Mammon was too weak to hear over the crowd.
You tried to pour all your magic ability into your pact with Mammon to alert him.
It worked! Mammon was in the middle of the street looking around for you.
You tried yelling again, “Mammon!”
He looked up and locked on to you.
You never saw him turn into his demon form so fast. He was airborne in the next second.
The demon grunted when he realized he was being followed. They looked down to see it was Mammon.
When they made eye contact, Mammon growled loud enough, even from a distance, to show how angry he was.
The demon must have decided you weren’t worth the hassle and dropped you.
Finally able to yell at full capacity you wailed for Mammon. You landed in his arms.
“I got you,” he comforted as he watched the demon fly away. He wouldn’t let this go, no one steals his treasure.
At the sound of your crying, Mammon looked down at you holding onto his collar and hiding your face in his neck.
“I’ve got you MC,” he reminded, softer this time. He shifted you so you could properly hug him as he started towards home.
Lucifer
He looked away for only a second when someone called out to him. His grip on you loosened and then he let go as he dealt with the person who had drawn his attention.
It was long enough for the demon to swoop in overhead.
The shock took over at first and you were frozen as the demon’s talons clawed at your shoulders.
When you regained some semblance of recognition, you called “L-Luci-” but the demon wrapped its tail around your mouth to silence you.
You tried to get the tail off to try calling again when you caught his face in the crowd, slowly getting further away.
He saw you hold a hand out for him with the other still desperately trying to pull at the tail from around your head.
Lucifer quickly transformed into his demon form and jumped into the air.
The demon was quick, dodging between other flyers, and through architecture, they clearly had planned their escape to some degree.
The demon had not planned on how fast Lucifer was in the sky. He doesn’t usually fly around to get from one place to another but he had centuries of flight experience under his belt.
He was close, maybe five feet away. He could hear your muffled cries and could see the tears staining your face.
The rage and hurt you found on his face was unlike anything you had seen on his features.
Lucifer had caught up without the demon realizing, you gripped at his arms as he silently gauged how he could free you. 
When you started crying harder, he opted for the straightforward answer, he wrapped an arm around your waist and grabbed the tail that was wrapped around your head. The flesh under his hand sizzled and the demon yelped. Instantly, the tail unwrapped your head and the talons released you.
“Lucifer!” You cried as he adjusted his hold on you, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”
“Shh,” Lucifer tried to calm you and his rage, it wasn’t directed at you but it must have left a bad taste for you to apologize. “It’s not your fault.”
“I, I,” but you couldn’t finish the sentence before breaking down once more.
Lucifer felt the tears fall on his neck and shoulder and it hurt as if his own heart was breaking.
He started towards the House of Lamentation silently. He couldn’t think of anything to soothe so he rubbed your back as he supported you in the air.
Once you had calmed enough to find your voice, you asked, “Can we go home?”
“Of course,” Lucifer smiled softly. His heart warmed to hear anything but your crying but especially that you thought of the HOL as home. “We’re almost there.”
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prettynxsty · 3 years
Text
Stirring the Hooch 🍷
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Domme!Reader x Sub!Jin
Warnings: Morning sex, jin has a pussy, consumption of booze and drunkenness, graphic mentions of vomiting, appearance of ot7, dirty talk, jin is a little bossy, y/n has a big ass dick, use of noona/hyung in a non sexual way, a little bit of cum play, creampie, partially clothed sex.
A/N: Vacation sex with just a liiiiittle bit of plot lmfao. There’s no facefucking because i was worried that it was getting too long. Anyway, enjoy.
You all but crashed out of bed this morning, landing on your hands and knees with a muted thump. You would’ve patted yourself on the back for even managing to strip and change your clothes for bed last night, but you felt like you were still drunk.
You should have regretted everything that happened, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do so. You plant your palms on the floor, rocking yourself forward and will yourself to start crawling. You knock your yoga mat away from your bags, watching the little purple tube bounce until it goes still.
You slap your hand over it, messily swatting it open. You crawl over it with a sigh and position yourself over the mat. It should have been a bad memory.
_
The table was 3 rounds of shots in before the waitress kindly reminded you that bottomless mimosas were only 5 dollars. Eyebrows rose around in a wave, sharing a devilish look of agreement. It was vacation, wasn’t it?
Something crazy began to leak out of your ears when you decided to cash in.
Namjoon was the first to throw himself to his feet, climb on the booth and begin dancing. Jimin whoops to the beat in encouragement, clumsily scrambling up on his chair to join his hyung.
Yoongi gets this strange look in his eye, dumping himself over Hoseok’s shoulder. They howled in laughter until Yoongi was crying. Actually crying.
What pleasantly surprised you the most is when Yoongi kneeled on the booth, facing away from the other side of the table, and began to shake his ass in a way that you wouldn’t have expected from him.
Jungkook’s faith was tested today, usually as the one who finishes everyone else's food, he decided to polish off the rest of everyone’s glasses.
Your sight of the world is stilted, moving in colored frames. You hear the noise of a bit of crashing and chair shifting, turning to see Jin. His sandals slap noisily against the floor as he barrels onto the dance floor, into the middle of the crowd.
Taehyung is bouncing up and down in his seat, shouting adlibs to the sound, pumping his hand in the air. You allow your head to fall forward, shoulders bouncing with a slow bout of laughter that makes your whole body bounce.
_
You slide your hands backward until they reach your knees, flipping your palms. You take a slow breath in, resting your forehead against the floor. You feel a dancing in your spine, your body so desperately wants to sway to sound that is not heard. The spirits must dance amongst themselves, you must return to yourself, to the terran world.
_
The same translucent lasso wraps around your arms and squeezes them to your sides. A burning call. You’re apt to rise when you’re full of this feeling, the pull is something indescribable. It crawls from the soles of your feet, causing them to tap. It races through you, your shoulders are swaying like a pendulum.
Deny yourself, you will not. You flew, tripping over the flat of the ground and blitz into the crowd to dance.
_
You breathe out slowly, flipping your palms and walking them forward. Your torso follows until your hips carefully nestle on the mat. Like sizzling wisps of smoke, the tightness knotted in you began to dissipate. You stretch your shoulders backward, gentle snaps and pops bursting in the air due to the tension knotted into your limbs like loops pulled too tight.
_
You’re screaming to every second beat, the world below is more than a reach away. Your legs are swinging through the gap between Namjoon and Jungkook’s shoulders. It feels as if the whole building is bouncing with you, your sanity went back to the home to rest.
_
You tilt your hips forward, leaning your weight onto the balls of your feet before rising into downward dog. Your lower back clicks, a rattling groan of relief shivers its way out of your mouth. You were finally beginning to feel your clothes against your body.
Your cock hangs limply out of one of the leg holes of your tiny shorts, scrunched up to your inner thighs. Your breasts sway gently, peering their way through the large holes of your oversized tank top. There was no reason that you wore that thing to bed, you usually woke up with a breast hanging out somehow.
_
It was a wonder you weren’t kicked out. You had no idea who paid for dinner, the amount would feel exorbitant. Nonetheless, a vacation should be indulgent.
Despite everyone being so ridiculously inebriated, you managed to concur that taking a taxi would be more trouble than it was worth since nobody was sober enough.
The villa was only a few blocks away anyway.
You hardly made it two block away from the place before everything seemed to fall into itself. Jimin dumped himself on the curb to take off his shoes even though he was only wearing sandals. Jungkook tripped his way over to the trash can on the corner as quickly as he could for someone who was plastered.
He grips handfuls of his shirt to hold it out of the way, even when drunk he was still meticulous. He retches weakly.
Risotto wasn’t nearly was beautiful or decadent when it came back out. Twenty-plus dollars directly into the bin on the city street. He gags so forcefully that he misses for a split second, a bit of cream colored mush dripping over the side before wetly splashing over the rest of the discarded garbage inside.
“Oh gawd- let’s go get him something.” Hoseok misses at patting your shoulder, but grabs your hand to drag you across the empty street to the convenience store on the other side.
You tried to straighten up when the cooler air washes over you, but your eyes were still very bleary. You stop by the baked goods and grab him a delicious yeasty smelling twisted donut and a ginger ale.
Hoseok stumbles up to the counter beside you, plopping a few bags of chips on it. “The salt will settle his tummy,” he explains quickly.
You give him a goofy smile, shaking your head and hand the cashier a little over exact change in cash. You gently push their hand away when they offer back the remaining coins, scooping up your items and head on your way.
You return across the street to Jimin struggling to stay awake from where he sat on the curb, Yoongi and Taehyung quietly hugging, Jin staring into the void of stars, and Namjoon showering kisses over Jungkook’s forehead.
“My poor Googoo,” he wails dramatically. Jungkook puckers his lips, prompting a raspy shriek from the older as he stumbles away. Jungkook chuckles, spreading his arms wide in request of an embrace.
You cringe, holding out the donut and drink with an awkward smile. It wasn’t as if he reeked of vomit, you just preferred for him to settle his stomach first.
“Googieeee~!” Hoseok shrieks, nearly tripping over the curb before hugging the younger man.
“Thank you Noona.” Jungkook pouts from over Hoseok’s shoulder, clumsily taking the items from your hand.
_
You turn your torso to the side, shifting your left foot forward into a lunge. You raise your arm with a slow breath inward, shifting your weight accordingly.
Jin was beautiful even when he snored all night, he was propped against the pillows like Snow White in her glass case. He’d opened his eyes quite a bit ago, silently watching you stretch yourself out.
“You look really tempting when you do that, babe.” He rasps.
Your impenetrable focus is shattered, causing you to cover your face with an incredulous laugh. “Before breakfast?”
“Hell yeah before breakfast, I don’t just wanna look, I wanna touch. Come here.”
“You’re still drunk too, huh?”
“There are a lot of times that I’m insatiable, but I want it right now.”
His assertiveness always sends a funny little churn through your belly.
You slowly shift the weight of your body onto your feet and stand. Not as heavy or dizzy as before, but a different tingling began to set inside of you. Your glance down, reaching to unfurl your shorts.
“Uh-uh, leave them like that.” He gives you a smile that’s absolutely devilish, shoving the sheets away from his lap. “Come to mama.”
It dawns on you as you approach the bed that he must’ve snatched up your shirt to sleep. It rode up his belly just a little, leading way to his light blue slip.
You plant your hands on the mattress, crawling in between his thighs. He leans forward, placing his hands on your hips and gently rubbing your sides. You cup his face, gently combing through his messy black tufts with your fingers.
His eyes scrunch up with a giddy chuckle, his neck was still flushed. Not quite as much as dark juice that leaks from berries gnashed between teeth. But rather the breath of age that colored ripened flesh of fruit from taught and pale shells surrounding infant seeds.
You imagined him as your first cabernet.
You were home alone. There was never any alcohol in the cabinets, not within your reach. However there was one bottle that sat on the highest shelf that’d begun to haunt your mind.
You thought about him day and night, wondering if you should be so daring as to wrap your fingers around the cork and pluck it out.
The bottle was dark, not so much as black, but an impenetrable brown of iodine or creamless coffee.
You stood in the pantry, door closed behind you as if there would be a soul to see. You rise with the aid of a little black stool, carefully grabbing the ruby red scarf wrapped around the bottle’s neck.
The pop of the remaining forth of the cork causes your breathing to break away. Dare it be said this noise was foreign, not yet attributed to merriment and celebration for you.
You raise the bottle to your lips and pour it in. The mouth feel is heavier than water, nothing unsettling.
Your tongue begins to glitter in a way you cannot determine if it’s unpleasant or lovely. Effervescence. Armoracia assaults your tongue, strangling with a fruitiness.
Your brows furrow, trampled all is with acridity. Your throat seems to close, denying entry to such drink, warming the back of your nostrils. With a thick noise, you manage to swallow it. A strange trail of fire roasts a trail over the back of your esophagus before heating the pool of your stomach.
Your adolescent tongue was unable to accord with this experience. Turned away, you squeeze the cork back in the bottle and return it to where it rest before and exit the pantry.
He, before you, a taste of wine that prompted you to have another sip. You couldn’t help but polish him off over and over again. His well never ran dry.
You kiss him with a soft hum. You imagine the taste of mature grapes. His lips push against yours hungrily, flexing and relaxing like the yielding of fruit under your teeth.
From the spring, you made him feel refreshed and clear. God himself ran your droplets from the glacier and straight into his cup.
He drank from many places, many streams. You were of the first, the only to cleanse and wash his palate.
Your depth, your minerals, mellowed his harshness, his sting. No longer rousing spirits, he bestows joy amongst all.
Your hand slips from his hair, landing gently on his shoulder. Your fingertips roll into the thick of his shoulder, squeezing it as he slips his tongue through your lips.
He reaches up the leg of your shorts, wrapping his hand around your warm shaft. He’s priming you to fuck him, to use him like some breeding buck.
He jerks his hand slowly but firmly. You groan into his mouth, nearly squirming at the sensation of your foreskin rolling and stretching over the tip of your cock.
Your hand drops from his shoulder, fingers dipping their way under his panties. His croon tingles the seam of your mouth as you slip your fingers in between his outer lips and spread them apart.
It was as if he shocked you, you pull from his lips with a wet smack to catch your breath. He always made you feel so crazy. Jin smiles, slowly thumbing at your tip.
The tip of your tongue heavily slips from your gums to sweep away the deeper notes on your bottom lip.
He hesitates not to drink of your spring, leaning in and draws your tongue between his mouth with a greedy swallow. Flushing and blooming, your belly burns just as your first taste did.
His lengthy fingers slip under your night shirt, curling around the heft of your breast. He releases your mouth with a full sigh of satisfaction.
You lift your fingers to your mouth, sweeping away his pussy juice with your tongue. You hum from the pit of your gut, you could taste the fruit of the land already. The musky aroma of papaya and melon, added tang of pineapple, the earthy, milkiness of coconut.
“I wanna do it raw,” he breathes as his knuckles gently close around and twist your nipple. You glance up at him, slipping your slick fingers out of your mouth and dig them back under the hem of his undergarments.
You never did it with condoms anyway, but he never failed to grasp his chance to set your blood asunder. You drag the tips of your fingers over his inner lips, stretching and spreading them. You drag your middle finger along the seam of his petals, swirling it around his hole and gently digging it against his clit.
He hisses, rolling his hips in hopes you’d give him more.
“Did you hear me?”
He releases his grip on your breast, cupping your chin and guiding you to meet his eyes.
“I want you to fuck me raw, that means I want you to cum inside of me.” His following moan is a beautiful titter as he drags the thick of his tongue over your lips, kissing you noisily. He releases the grip of your cock, wiggling forward to lay back against the bed.
He was only ever so demanding when he was itching for you to make a mess of him. As he moves to make simple work of his panties, you take note to do the same and rid yourself of your own bottoms.
You wiggle off of the bed, wiggling your shorts down to your ankles.
“You’re so bossy today. You’re gonna need to slobber on it first, Jinnie.”
His heart seizes, bursting into a shower of pretty pink butterflies. His cunt flutters immediately at the sonority that coats your voice in viscous amber.
He quickly walks his hands forward, shifting toward the end of the bed and rolling onto his tummy. He needlessly pretties himself for you, combing his hair away from his forehead. His eyes are positively twinkling as he rests his chin on the mattress.
“It’d be quite the inconvenience if one of the others were to come in and see me cramming my dick into your mouth,” you click your tongue. You place your hand on his head, lovingly stroking his cheek with your thumb. “Maybe I should use this mouth more often, it’s much quieter.”
He furrows his brows, inhaling quickly to fix you with a response.
Your resolve crumbles with your face scrunching up in amusement. “Okay! Okay! Don’t say anything, open your mouth.”
He makes a face, cutting his eyes at you as you grab ahold of your shaft and position it at his mouth.
_
“Fuck, fuck.. Turn around, let me see your pussy.” You step backward to free yourself from his mouth, trying to catch your breath.
He licks his swollen, slobbery lips with a smile and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. Jin turns slowly, propping himself up on his knees. You took an unsteady breath inward to ask about his well being, but when he presented himself, you understood immediately.
His cunt was fully in bloom between his thighs, fatter, puffier. Healthily flushed and glistening, you clap your hand over his ass.
He whines, couldn’t you see the syrupy drips and trails clinging to his inner thighs?
You push his ass up with your palm, admiring how his pussy stretched and trembled. You decidedly slip your thumb just barely in between his lips and swirl your finger through his arousal.
You grip the base of your cock with your other hand and press it up against his hole. The upper half of his body relaxes instantly, slumping against the bed with a croon that sends chills spidering over your heated flesh.
You rock forward gently, pushing your way inside of him. Jin takes to you without hesitation, pulsing and squeezing around you.
“This fucking-” you clap your hand over his ass with more force “-cunt is always so good to me,” you growl.
He mewls when you bottom out, rolling your hips forward to push deeper into him.
You rear back, easily building your pace inside of him. You move your grip to taking tight handfuls of the shirt that rolled up his back, yanking him back against you with each thrust inward.
Each moan of his began long and drawn out like the soft calls of the loon under nightfall. You prop your foot up on the bed frame, planting yourself more firmly to set a stronger pace.
The noise of your skin clapping together began to bounce off of the walls, rocking to bed to which he gripped so dearly.
You allow yourself to fall astray of control, pounding into him with deep, sharp strikes. His moans quickly evolve into frantic wails, his voice catches in his throat each time you drag him away from squirming into the escape.
You cease only for a moment to allow him to catch his breath, to which his forehead drops against the sheets with a muted rustle.
A second was efficient enough, you shift your foot and plant it more firmly before you continue your assault on his poor pussy.
He whines something at you, muffled.
“What was that?” You purr, continuing to jerk your hips shamelessly. Your moans rise and flow from your lips like a steady spring.
He manages to lift his head, thrashing it with a keen when you plunge in just a bit harder than before. It was so hard to speak when you kept knocking the breath out of his lungs. “You’re too deep inside,” he whines, unable to control the moans squeezing through his noisy panting.
“It’s too deep?” You coo, feeling your lips curl in a slight smile when you watch his messy head of black hair bob up and down.
“Roll over so I can play with your pussy,” you slow your relentless thrusts and gently move back until your cock flops wetly out of his hole.
He slumps almost completely when you pull out of him, weakly propping his palms up and laying down. Use of his legs was reasonably impossible as of now, which you quickly noted. “Move back a little,” he scoots himself backward almost pitifully.
If you weren’t almost painfully hard, you’d be more willing to let him take a break. You climb onto the bed and straddle his right thigh, propping the left over your shoulder.
You nudge yourself in between his lips, guiding your shaft until it catches against his sloppy hole. He whimpers, dropping his head back when you push your way in. His pussy accommodates you with an indecent squish.
You wrap your arm around the leg thrown over your shoulder, rocking into him. You peer down at him, his eyes were still glassy from your abuse of his throat. Your breath hitches in your throat as you jerk your hips forward, the clap of your balls against the back of his ass echoes louder.
“I wish you knew what you do to me,” you sigh hotly through teeth clenched. Your molars grind together as you return to pistoning inside of him, mashing your pelvis into his.
He was foolish enough to tilt his hips forward, the entire bed rocks pitifully as a testament to its modern craftsmanship.
Jin was flushed down to his chest, puckered lips flapping with each noisy gasp. He felt so light, he couldn’t tell if he were near fainting.
“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god,” he yelps. He is barely able to lift his hands and shove his shirt around to play with his nipples.
You gently stretch his mound toward him, stroking your thumb around the spongy flesh near his clit. His shriek catches on the back of his tongue, you feel yourself begin to burn and melt.
Ruby red drips of wax cooling against a marble counter.
You nearly pull out of him on instinct, gripping the base of your dick with an ugly whimper. Your body seizes, rigid as you begin to cum.
You can hardly hear his breath in your ears over the sound of your heartbeat, your own moans are high and shaking.
You pull away from him with a rattling breath, unleashing a few final weak spurts against his folds.
You struggle to regulate your own rhythm, clumsily slipping your fingers in his sloppy cunt to spread your cum around. He whines, swatting at your hand.
“Heh,” your chest bounces weakly, “we were probably so loud.”
“I’m too tired to nag you, but I could’ve died.”
“Oh hush, we need to get ready soon.”
He gives you a crazy look before dropping his head back down and motioning you toward the door. “It’s not like you broke my legs or anything.”
_
“When do we get our turn?” Jimin calls from the dining room with a telling smile.
You stop cold in the entryway of the hall, turning to see the table full of your friends. They erupt in whooping laughter that causes you to continue hurrying on your way to run the bath. None of them should have even been alive at that hour, not with how they were last night.
“Nah, come back! I didn’t know Seokjin-Hyung could hit those kinds of notes!” Namjoon calls after you, cackling.
176 notes · View notes
rocorambles · 3 years
Text
Shiny New Toy
Pairing: Matsukawa x Reader 
Genre/Warnings: Military Officer Matsukawa x Prisoner of War Reader AU, Yandere, Non-Con/Rape, Bondage, Sex Toys, Degradation, Overstimulation, Objectification, Humiliation, Body Writing, Mentioned/Implied  Non-Con Branding, Knife Marking, Tattooing
Summary: Most people would consider having a white Christmas a stroke of good luck, but you’re about to find out just how untrue that is. 
Author’s Note: This fic is for the Lovesick Server’s December collab and the theme is Stormy Nights~ Be sure to check out the amazing work by other members here.
When most people dream of a white Christmas, they think about soft fluffy snow you can easily shape into snowmen, they think about fluttering snowflakes they can gaze at as they sit inside a cozy home surrounded by their family. 
Not you. 
When you dream of a white Christmas, you pray for a thunderous snowstorm, you pray for harsh winds, frigid temperatures, you pray for anything severe enough to serve as a distraction, to keep the demons and monsters at bay. 
And it takes every ounce of self-control not to accidentally betray how relieved and thankful you are as your guards for the day are sloppy enough to leave you uncuffed, hastily throwing down enough food to last you a few days in their rush to return to the safety and warmth of their barracks, unwilling to venture out more than necessary to feed you multiple times a day during the blizzard outside. 
They still have enough sense to lock the cell door behind them as they scurry back to the merry celebrations, too afraid to deal with the wrath of their superior officers. And you can’t blame them, not when Oikawa’s sadistic streak and Iwaizumi’s untempered rage are infamous throughout the nations, not when you’ve seen firsthand just how cruel the Seijoh Four can be. 
Painful memories of fire, screams, and blood flood your mind and you grit your teeth as you push them aside. There would be time for grief and mourning later. But for now, you need to escape first.
You examine the lock in front of you, the one thing separating you from freedom. It’s not a bad piece of work. Sturdy, strong, and reliable. But it’s nowhere near the craftsmanship and skill you’re used to. After all, when you come from Date Tech, the nation famous for its Iron Walls, its ironwork, its ability to manipulate all types of metal to do or be whatever the heart desires, nothing compares. And it’s laughably easy to make said lock useless as you quietly creep outside for the first time in months. 
It’s quiet. Not a soul is in sight and you slow your breathing and thoughts down as you concentrate. What’s the next step? Which direction should you go? What’s the overall plan?
For once you’re thankful for how the guards they’ve been sending could care less about your presence, treating you nothing more than an object as they blatantly ignore you and carry on conversation as if you’re not there. You know that despite the fact that most of Miyagi has been conquered, three nations still remain in an endless war against each other.
Karasuno. Shiratorizawa. Aoba Johsai. 
It’s just your luck that you’d ended up a prisoner of war by the worst of the three, humiliated and kept alive as a trophy and symbol of what they had accomplished. At least if Date Tech had been conquered by Shiratorizawa you’d be dead within seconds once Ushijima had deemed you unworthy and far too weak to live up the to high standards of his warriors. 
But Karasuno...you don’t know much about the crow nation, a nation that had kept a low profile for as long as you could remember, only to recently rear its head and prove that they’ve kept up with the best of the best despite their long isolation. But you do remember the kind faces of their high ranking officers when they had gotten into a conflict with Date Tech long ago, how surprisingly amicable the two sides were as Date Tech admitted defeat, preparing for the worst, only to be surprised as Karasuno had peacefully left after having your nation promise an alliance with them, leaving your home relatively in one piece, letting your authorities remain in power, allowing your people to live normally.
It’s decided then. The game plan is to escape to Karasuno and hope that Daichi Sawamura is as just and kind as you remember. 
Determined, you carefully listen and check your surroundings, grateful for the added coverage the snowstorm provides, relieved when you hear the distant drunken shouts and celebrations as the soldiers celebrate the joyous holiday, tucked away in the mess hall quite a distance from you. And you brace yourself as the wind howls around you, as the icy snow stings your bare feet and legs, soaking through your tattered clothing. But like hell you’re going to let something as silly as frostbite stop you and you darkly think that dying from hypothermia would be a preferable way to leave this world than by the hands of a Seijoh officer. 
Escape is tantalizingly close and you forget about the way your body feels numb from the bitter cold, forget about how your teeth chatter and your body shivers when you see the nearing enclosure, so focused on the exit that you don’t notice the solitary tall figure casually leaning against a wall nearby, curiously watching your stumbling weary body make its way towards the opening, amusement in his eyes when you pass him, completely unaware of his presence as your eyes sparkle from seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. 
Matsukawa doesn’t care much for Christmas. Well to be fair, he doesn’t care much about holidays or celebrating in general, finding the rowdy atmosphere headache inducing, the raucous volume irritating, the crowds of people bothersome. But Oikawa and Hanamaki love their social events and it boosts squad morale, so needless to say of course there is an obnoxious holiday party raging on, with Iwaizumi playing babysitter. And Matsukawa had slipped out as soon as he could, finding strange comfort in the tumultuous weather outside, unfazed by the way snow slashed across his face as he walked and walked until only the sounds of wind and the night accompanied him. 
So imagine his surprise when their adorable little prisoner shows up in the midst of the blizzard like a ghostly apparition, struggling through the elements in a desperate attempt to escape. Honestly he doesn’t know why you’ve been kept in the cell for so long and he supposes you have Iwaizumi to thank for Oikawa not sinking his teeth and claws into you already, the green eyed general having a softer heart than most would assume knowing his reputation. But your luck has run out and not even Iwaizumi can save you from punishment and Matsukawa’s penchant for ruining pretty things. 
Suddenly Christmas doesn’t seem so bothersome after all as Matsukawa’s long legs swiftly carry him to you, his arm quickly wrapping around your neck from behind and squeezing until your nutrient deprived and half frozen body collapses in his arms. 
You groan when you come back to your senses, sinking into the soft surface you’re laying on. 
Wait. Soft surface?
Your eyes shoot open and your arms instinctively move to help you sit up, only for you to falter as something keeps your arms bound behind your back and you flail and struggle to move your tied up body as you gauge your surroundings, feeling nauseous when you recognize the turquoise and white uniform jacket hung up by the door, staring in disbelief and humiliation when you finally look down at yourself, the glowing Christmas lights adorning and highlighting your body as they weave around your breasts and between your legs. And you can only assume that’s what you feel wrapped around your arms, keeping them immobile behind your back as your naked body fights against its restraints on the bed you’ve been placed on. 
 But you scream, all thoughts of escape zapped out of you when two devices come to life inside of you and you sob in shame and panic as both your lower holes are assaulted by the vibrators inside of them, the tangle of lights looped between your legs keeping the toys firmly shoved inside of you despite the way you try to push them out of you. 
Matsukawa doesn’t understand the appeal of Christmas lights or decorations nor does he understand Oikawa’s fascination of sex toys and overwhelming his play things with plastic, rubber, and metal, preferring the surge of pride that courses through him when he wrecks his sluts with his body alone. But as he watches you writhe in front of him, your eyes glistening with hopeless tears, your nipples perky and erect, your moans and whimpers filling the room as he sits back and relaxes, his large hand slowly palming his hardening cock that he untucks out of his trousers, he admits that maybe he had been too quick to judge, grateful he hadn’t immediately dumped the box of gag gifts his brunette captain had gifted him bright and early this Christmas morning. 
“I know you don’t like toys, Mattsun. But you should test these out on the new batch of prisoners we get from the next raid!”
You aren’t a new prisoner, but he’s sure Oikawa wouldn’t mind that he was using them on you. If anything, the brunette would probably be jealous that he’d claimed you first. 
Time ceases to exist as Matsukawa watches you, fingers idly tapping away on buttons and a smirk spreading across his face at how receptive you are to the setting changes, how little he has to do to have your body contorting and your voice wantonly wailing as orgasm after orgasm is ripped from you. But he grows tired of watching from afar after he forces you to break apart countless times and he draws near, stroking his now fully erect cock as he mockingly whistles at how you’ve soaked the bed sheets near your cunt and drenched the lights shoved against your folds, laughing at how your back arches and your eyes roll back when he roughly pinches and twists your nipples. 
It’s like you were made to be played with. And suddenly Matsukawa can’t get his hands on his new toy fast enough, unwinding the soaked string of lights from your lower half and bending your legs before retying the lower strands of lights so that they bind your calves to your thighs, enjoying the view as the vibrator in your pussy easily slips out from your loosened sopping wet hole while he teasingly pulls and shoves back in the large vibrating plug he keeps nestled inside of your ass. 
You really are just like a sex toy or a fuck doll, other than that scowl on your face and the raging hate and disgust in your eyes. But the fierce look only stirs deeper lust and anticipation in the officer as he eagerly awaits the moment you completely break because of him, large hands easily hauling your bound body by the waist and forcing you to straddle his lap as he reclines against his headboard, smiling at how rage turns to a gorgeous look of fear when you feel the tip of his cock brush against your glistening entrance. 
It really is admirable how you hopelessly fight against him, against gravity as his hands guide you down and down, despair, pain, and maybe something on the border of pleasure overtaking you as you sink on an enemy’s shaft seemingly forever, the girth alone already stretching you far more than the vibrator had. But it’s the length that tears you apart and Matsukawa is painstakingly meticulous about making sure you swallow him at an agonizingly slow pace, making sure you have no choice but to feel every bit of him that enters you, that drags against your walls, further and further until you swear he’s in your cervix, in your stomach. 
You hate how sensitive his earlier torment has made you, how your pleasure addicted body is already chasing after another orgasm, your pussy fluttering in excitement around the new object filling it, your mouth drooling and unable to close as your mind goes blank from the sensation of being double stuffed again. And you sob in relief when you finally bottom out before you can humiliate yourself by cumming yet again, tensing as you wait for your captor to ruthlessly fuck you right away. 
But nothing happens and you stare in astonishment as Matsukawa merely reaches over to his nightstand to pick up a book, flipping through pages as you sit in his lap. 
“Be a good cock warmer and just stay still and look pretty, okay?” 
Humiliation courses through you at his words, but you obey. Or at least you try your best to. But he’s set you up for failure as the hand not holding his reading material finds its way between your legs, calloused fingertips gently and slowly rubbing against your clit in a way that has your body heating up, has your hips unconsciously grinding as they chase the building inferno inside of you until you’re desperately humping him like a bitch in heat in search of relief. And Matsukawa irritatedly sighs. 
“Aren’t fuck dolls supposed to just stay still and be quiet? If you want to cum that badly and distract me, at least entertain me.” 
You don’t even have the presence of mind to pay him any attention as you keep on bouncing as much as you can with your limited movement, completely ignorant of how he tosses his book to the side and rummages through the opened gift box besides him, a pleased hum escaping him when he pulls out two jingling objects. 
But you do notice the piercing pain from both your nipples as incredible pressure is applied to them and you scream as Matsukawa adjusts the nipple clamps, whimpering when he smacks your breasts and the bells attached to the devices loudly ring. Satisfied with your new decorations, once again he wraps his large hands around your waist and you wail as you’re easily lifted and slammed back down, face burning with shame and embarrassment when you realize you’re being fucked to the rhythm of Jingle Bells, the bells lewdly swinging from your sensitive buds only emphasizing your pathetic position with every shrill chime. 
You shouldn’t be enjoying this. You shouldn’t be moaning like a whore. You shouldn’t be on the verge of yet another mind blowing orgasm. And you clench your eyes shut as you try to remember your home, remember your family, remember your friends, anything to distract you from the present. But Matsukawa has other plans for you and pleasure and pain strike you down like a bolt of lightning when he rips the clamps off of you and you let out an animalistic sound of ecstasy as you experience your most intense orgasm yet, one that has you twitching and mindless, slumping against the broad body in front of you in post-coital bliss and exhaustion.  
But you weakly cry out when large hands hold you still as strong hips thrust up hard into you. 
“Your performance was so good that now I’m in the mood.” 
All your pride goes down the drain as you beg and plead for him to let you rest, to stop, making a mess of his shirt and neck as your tears and snot smear across skin and fabric as you exhaustedly bury your face in the crook of his shoulder, crying even harder when fingers trace slow patterns on one ass cheek before slapping you harshly to shut up your whining. 
“A toy’s job is to make its owner feel good. Plus, I’m curious just how durable you are. Clearly if you’re conscious enough to annoy me with all your sniveling, then you’re in good enough shape for me to use some more.” 
You can only brokenly cry as he rails you from below, your torso still propped against him, face still buried in his shoulder, as he manhandles your body, forcefully slamming you down with every thrust, making sure you’re completely filled and unable to escape the delirious fullness and stimulation. And you can’t even breathe, unable to think of anything except for the aching overwhelming feeling bubbling inside of you, threatening to consume you as you’re brought to new highs over and over again.
But your weakened body can only take so much and your squeals trail off into silence, darkness encroaching on your consciousness as your body shuts down from overexertion. It’s too much and you gladly and wearily welcome slumber, can practically taste it on your tongue as a part of you shatters deep inside when you vaguely register the hot thick spurts filling your insides as Matsukawa slams balls deep inside of you one final time. 
Your heavy eyelids flutter shut and you can feel your breathing begin to even out, but panic forces you to stay awake and alert when a low teasing voice murmurs into your ear. 
“You lasted longer than I thought, but I guess you’re officially out of batteries now. Don’t worry. I’ll charge you right back up.”
You don’t know what he has planned for you, but it can’t be anything good and despite how fatigued you are, you thrash and wiggle, doing everything you can to avoid the inevitable despite your still bound position. But it’s useless and you feel so small, so vulnerable as you’re shoved face down in the corner of his room, twisting just enough to see Matsukawa holding the vibrator that had been inside of you earlier and plugging it to an outlet in the wall. And your heart plummets when he gives you a lazy grin as he abruptly shoves the toy inside of you once more. 
“Can’t have it running out of batteries while it keeps you loose and wet for me.”
You kick and scream as he adjusts the lights wrapped around your legs once again, only pausing as he rains down hard and heavy hits to your ass, and if you felt vulnerable before, you feel absolutely pathetic now with a strand of lights keeping both the vibrator and plug firmly inside of you once again and your binds adjusted until you’re in a hog-tie position. But you don’t have time to dwell too much on it, not when both vibrator and plug are suddenly set at their highest settings and you shriek, tears streaming down your face from the onslaught of sensations in your already spent body. 
And you can only feel, feel, and feel, brain dead and numb to anything else happening around you. Even when Matsukawa crouches in front of you, you just dumbly stare at him as drool trickles from your mouth and lewd moans spill from your lips. 
But even in your depraved state, the last dregs of your pride shout at you to do something, anything, as the officer holds a pair of socks and black briefs in front of your face. 
“As beautiful as you sound, I can’t have the entire unit complaining about how loud my little doll is. And toys don’t need to talk or see anyway, so I’m going to wrap you back up until I’m ready to use you again, okay?”
It’s a rhetorical question and before you can even think of retorting, the socks are brutally shoved into your mouth and you gag and choke as long fingers cruelly push and push, practically deep-throating you with the thick fabric, more hot tears cascading down your face as he removes his now saliva coated digits and wipes them clean on your face. 
But as the elastic band of his briefs are pulled over your head and snapped into place right beneath your eyes, rendering your eyesight useless, making the buzzing torment in your lower regions even more prominent, you go completely limp save for the uncontrollable tremors of pleasure, any fight you had in you shattered into a million pieces as you fully register what has happened and what you have been reduced to. 
And Matsukawa takes a moment to appreciate how broken you are already, barely looking human with the glow of the Christmas lights surrounding you and your facial features hidden for the most part by his briefs, looking every bit like a depraved whore, like human furniture, like a lewd object to be used by anyone, anytime. 
But Matsukawa has never been good at sharing his belongings and he plucks a permanent marker from his desk, scribbling dark unmistakable lines across both your ass cheeks, smirking down at his new mark of ownership. 
Issei’s Toy
The words look good on you. His name looks good on you. 
Maybe if you survive his treatment long enough, he’d get it permanently tattooed into your skin. Maybe he’d carve it into your skin. Maybe he’d burn it into your skin…
The possibilities are endless, but for now, he has an appearance to make, sighing tiredly at the responsibilities he has as a senior officer. Curse Oikawa and his insistence that all of the Seijoh Four had to at least show face at the beginning and end of the holiday party. And he rolls his eyes as he straightens out his uniform and throws on his jacket. 
But before he departs, he spares you one more glance, mood instantly lighting up when he sees your wrecked pitiful form laying on his ground like a forgotten toy. 
At least something good came out of this dreadful day, he thinks, as he quietly hums Jingle Bells all the way down to the mess hall. 
800 notes · View notes
miinomo · 3 years
Text
my little maid.
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✿ pairings - Erwin x Maid Fem! (Chubby) Reader
contains - (18+ content MDNI) Infidelity, Body worship, Age gap, Creampie, Dark Content
✿ Synopsis - A bad day could change in moments of Erwin coming home to his perfect maid. One that could never deny him the pleasure that his cold, unloving wife denies him on a daily basis. 
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You stood in one of the bigger guest bedrooms while staring at yourself in the mirror. It was a Venetian mirror that had lacquered wood finished in dark red with a high gloss varnish coat. It was one of the many expensive furnishings that caught your eye in the Smith’s household. It was like there was always something to be looking at. All of their furniture seemed straight out of a film, or a novel. The type of couches or beds you would see in a mansion on the big screen. 
When you were first hired by Mrs. Smith, you weren’t as great of a cleaner as you are now. It was tough-- Getting used to cleaning so many rooms, and so thoroughly at that. But you picked up a good technique rather quickly. And for that, the Smith’s were thankful. Their home always seemed to accumulate a lot of dust in such a short period, so without you, they would surely be suffering something fierce in the realm of allergies.
The uniform, however, was something Mr. Smith’s wife did not approve of. The skirt was too short, the stockings- too revealing. Whenever she would come home and see you dressed so whorishly it made her skin crawl. But looking at yourself, it felt nice. Even though you weren’t a model, you were a bit thicker than most women that society deemed beautiful- Mr. Smith never made you feel that way, like you weren’t good enough. He looked at you as if you were the only woman in the world. 
His words affected you more than he would ever know- “You started as a blank canvas. Everything about you, down to your stretch marks is beautiful. And I will tell you every day until you believe it yourself.” That was what he said to you the first time the two of you had been intimate. You were nervous and shy for him to see your unclothed body. But he insisted, he wanted to worship all of you, not just the parts that anyone could see on a day-to-day basis.
Abruptly the front door was slammed and it caused your heart to drop into your stomach. The sudden sound had frightened you- you were so caught up in reminiscing on past experiences with Mr. Smith and didn’t notice it was around the time he usually came home. The loud noise echoed through the house, which was a common occurrence anywhere with long hallways and high ceilings. “Mr. Smith?” You called after walking to the doorway, wanting to be sure the person that entered the premises was truly who you were expecting. 
“Yes, y/n. It’s me.” His stern, yet comforting voice announced. “Come downstairs when you have a moment.” The tone in his voice suggested two possibilities. Either he and his wife were fighting again, or he had a bad day at work. Making your way downstairs you could see him sitting at the dining table with his head resting in his hands. You were guessing it was the latter due to it being directly after business hours that he looked so unhappy. 
“Yes. Work was quite hectic today, but it was also Marleen. She was constantly calling me while I was in the middle of a presentation with a new client. Needless to say, it did not go well.” Erwin looked at you as you stood at the opposite side of the table. “Please sit y/n. I would love your company. Dusting can wait.” Although Erwin was venting to you- your chest felt warm. It was always the same feeling you got when looking at him. He held himself so well. His posture, so upright. Everything about him just screamed ‘gentleman.’ 
The sound of your flats tapping against the white tiles was what made Mr. Smith’s attention come back to you. “How was work, Mr. Smith? Was it as unpleasant as it seemed?” You approached the oaky table which had hand-carved details of the intricate marquetry and like the mirror from upstairs; it was also finished with a high gloss varnish. 
The ocean blue eyes that you loved to look into were staring you down as his warm hand enveloped yours. “I missed you so much. You have no idea how long today felt. And now that I’m here with you it’s like a weight was taken off of my shoulders.” He confided in you. The world felt so quiet- usually, you could hear the birds chirping, the winds howling, or even the neighbors doing yard work. But not right now. Not while Mr. Smith sat so close, telling you all he needed to feel better was to take one look at you. 
“I missed you too Mr. Smith.” You smiled at him while he rubbed his thumb over your hand. “y/n, I’ve told you at least a dozen times you may call me Erwin.” His voice was so calm. Every time he said your name it felt like your heart was going to burst. “I know you have, but it’s easier for me to slip up if I get too comfortable.” Silence filled the room for a moment. Bringing up the fact that you two were hiding your love for each other was never easy. Even if he was in an unhappy marriage, it felt wrong sometimes. 
“I understand.” Erwin looked away from you for only a moment before directing his gaze straight back to you. “Would you accompany me upstairs? I would love your help with something.��� Just from the tone in his voice, you knew where this was going. He needed relief, and you weren’t planning to deny him. “Of course, Mr. Smith.” You got up from your seat and followed him through the hall. 
The two of you walked up the stairs together- you following behind him while he held onto the railing. “We’re going to the master bedroom.” He instructed before taking a right when he reached the top of the stairway. The halls were decorated with many expensive pieces of art. Paintings, teaware, and framed botanicals hung on the brown walls. The white marbled tile of the floor accentuated the brown in such a pleasant way. 
Erwin turned around to look at you after entering through the doorway. “You’re so beautiful.” He rested his hands on your hips and pulled you closer to him. Bringing you to his chest and looking down at you, he smiled. “Having you here with me... I couldn’t ask for anything more.” He leaned down, encasing your lips in his. His kisses were always so passionate. You could feel the care and love behind his desperate groans into your mouth. 
“I love you.” Your eyes widened and a loud ringing came to your ears. Mr. Smith just confessed his love to you. You both mutually knew that you cared deeply for one another, but hearing him say those words was just something you couldn’t have imagined. The words were so sweet. “Please, y/n. Let me have you.” He ran his hands down to your ass and gripped it lightly. You looked into his eyes and without hesitance, you gave him your answer. “You don’t even have to ask.” 
And with that, Erwin picked you up continuing to kiss you with as much passion as he could. His tongue explored the inside of your mouth and fought against your own for dominance. Although you would never actually try to overtake him. You loved how much of a lead he took when the two of you were intimate. He walked with you in his arms, slowly making his way to the bed. It was the largest bed in the house, with lilac satin sheets. They were cool and soft against your thighs when he placed you down onto them. 
“Mr. Smith, are you sure we should have sex in here? This is...” The thought of his wife sleeping in this bed later tonight was clouding your head. “We will just have to be sure we don’t make a mess.” He breathed against your plush lips before kissing you yet again. Your hands snaked their way up around his neck, touching the back of his head. His haircut was a bit scratchy due to the undercut and shave he opted for. 
“Erwin.” You moaned into his mouth as his large hand made its way up to your inner thigh slowly. He gripped onto your skin, pushing his thumb down just enough to apply a bit of pain. “I love how much of you there is to love.” He pulled back from the kiss and smiled endearingly while looking into your eyes. “You’re perfect. And I love you.” Your heart skipped a beat from his comments. “I love you too Erwin.” 
With your confession, Erwin found in himself that he was no longer able to be patient. He would usually prep you for him, with his tongue or fingers. But he couldn’t wait any longer. He needed to be inside of you. “Are you wet enough for my cock, y/n?” He breathed against your ear while he focused on undoing his belt. Tossing it to the side of the room, he proceeded to unzip his pants- pulling his cock through his trousers. 
You could feel his member poking the inside of your legs while he kissed your neck, occasionally biting down onto your skin. “Fuck, I want you.” You hissed through your teeth as he nibbled your ear. His breath was warm as was his tongue, which ran down the side of your neck before he placed light and feathery kisses along the trail of saliva he left behind. “Then you’ll have me.” He groaned before pushing his cock deep inside of you. 
No amount of slick was ever enough to make taking him easy. It always felt like he was assaulting your insides when he thrust so deeply into you. Stretching you more than anyone else ever had. Erwin let out a breathy moan. “You’re so tight.” During sex, your holes always squeezed him just right. To the point where your pussy would make forming sentences a challenge. You always made him feel so good. He planted his feet firmly into the ground while you laid on your back, looking up to the ceiling. He grabbed ahold of your thighs and pushed your legs up, resting them onto his shoulder before he began pounding into you.
The ivory frills on your skirt tickled his skin as he kept his rhythm. You gasped every time you felt him ram into your cervix. You felt your eyes start to roll back into your head; his veiny cock was almost too much for you. Continuously mixing up your insides, each vein pulling at your inner walls. He grabbed onto your hips harshly, keeping you in place while he brought your pussy to the base of his cock. The two of you were moaning so loudly it started to echo throughout the house. “shit, y/n. Fuck, you’re squeezing, so fucking tight.” His voice was shaky. 
Your hands searched for anything to hold onto while your body rocked back and forth on the bed. Finally settling on the soft and luxurious satin sheets. You balled them into your fists and cried out his name repeatedly. “I’m going to cum, Erwin.” Your walls clenched his cock so tight, not wanting it to leave with each pump. Your legs began to shake and fall from his shoulders but he grabbed ahold of your thighs. Holding them in place and speeding up the pace of him ramming into your pussy. Deeper than ever. 
“Don’t spill any of my cum, baby. It’d be a pain to get out of these sheets.” He chuckled as his hips spastically jerked forward. He groaned and leaned his head back as his warm seed shot into you. Your pussy was filled up with his cum and your cheeks were bright pink. It was so thick, so much. You were scared you wouldn’t be able to hold all of it in. He pulled out of you slowly, making sure you put his thumb on your hole when his cock finally exited your gaping hole. “Should I cork you? Make sure not a drop escapes your beautiful pussy?” He smirked as he looked over at a bottle of red wine, sitting on the granite countertop of his dresser. 
You thought for a moment and couldn’t help but lick your lower lip. “Please cork me.” Your response surprised him, this time he was the one who was shocked. His eyebrows raised slightly but he kept his smug expression. “Oh? If you keep all of it in till the end of your shift tonight, maybe I’ll reward you. My beautiful, little maid.” 
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✿✿✿ Author’s Notes ✿✿✿ - Although I don’t normally write a note at the bottom of my pieces I wanted to address something. I’ve been seeing a few people that I follow having body shaming anons coming into their ask boxes, and that’s not cool. I am all for body positivity and feeling good about yourself. But there’s a difference when your tone is bragging, versus being happy in your own skin. And I am a bit on the chubbier side myself and want anyone that is uncomfortable in their own skin to know that you’re beautiful and loved. Usually my writing is for all body types, but I wanted this one to be a bit more personal for us Chubby girls. I hope you all still enjoyed this piece, and can all one day love who you are and what you look like. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and don’t let anyone ever put you down. Thank you. 
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julemmaes · 3 years
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Payback
Rowaelin Month, Day Five
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A/N: Yall I'm dying. I didn't even wanna write today and I kinda forced myself to and I'm not proud of myself for this but I just wanted you to have something so yep. Tomorrow's will be a lot angstier and sadder than this one, so soak up the very light fluff I'm giving you till you can
Signing off, goodnight yall
Word count: 3,614
Aelin hated the underground car park reserved for the residents of her building. It was dark, so narrow that you had to do at least a hundred swerves to avoid taking any corner and scratching off half your car, and it was impossible to find a spot when everyone came home in the evening after hours and hours in the office and parked as they saw fit while still thinking about the thousands of pieces of paperwork that would be waiting for them at their desks only nine hours later, sometimes taking up more than two spots at once.
The only reason she still tried to park down there was that there was a flock of pigeons in the trees just outside their block of flats, on the main road, which had made a nasty habit of shitting on anything - or anyone, on some unpleasant occasion - that stopped for more than five minutes under the thick branches. A perfect hiding place for birds, that no one had thought to warn her about when she had moved in only a few months earlier.
She had deemed herself lucky the night before, when she had returned before anyone else and found the lot completely empty. She'd been so happy that she'd driven around a bit down there just for the hell of it. She'd pulled up next to the exit, thinking it would be easier to get out the next morning.
She hadn't anticipated the three assholes who had parked so as to block her path in every conceivable way.
She grunted, banging her fist against the steering wheel when she realised she still wasn't clear, and put the car into reverse for the twelfth time, before changing gear and driving three inches forward. And so on, and on, and on, until she managed to steer the face of the car towards the exit and let out a satisfied howl.
She started up the slope towards the road, taking her eyes off the driveway and distracting herself for a moment to choose which radio to listen to, when the car hit something and the dull sound of the bang echoed throughout her body, propelling her forward.
Aelin squealed, hitting the brakes hard enough to cause a high-pitched squeal, and soon the smell of burnt plastic filled her nostrils.
The car shut off and she pulled the handbrake vehemently, getting out of the car and trying to figure out which wall she had hit, already cursing every deity that had ever existed. She didn't have enough money to afford a repair, and she knew perfectly well that the dent would be there for months before she let any of her friends help her.
She wrinkled her brow, noticing how no side of the car was touching walls or columns.
"What the..."
And then she heard it, a grunt of pain.
She opened her eyes wide, running around the car and finding a man on the ground.
To the view of a head full of stark white hair, the fear she’d just ran over one of the oldies that lived on her floor stuck her. But then the person got up on their elbows and she let go of a sigh of relief.
But still, she had just runapartment someone over. She hurried his way.
"Oh, fuck." said Aelin, approaching the stranger. The man pulled himself up to sit, bringing a hand to his face, on his cheek, where a cut was bleeding profusely on his shirt.
"Holy shit." muttered the guy, looking up at her, "That hurt."
Aelin was frozen in time, her hands to her gaping mouth, looking for the right words.
When he tried to stand, swaying a little, she pushed through the fog in her mind and truly looked at him, searching other injuries, but not failing to notice his sheer handsomeness.
The man looked like he’d been made in heaven.
She shook her head, mentally reprimanding herself – now was not the time – and started talking.
“I’m so so so sorry. I didn’t see you there and- oh god, you’re bleeding. You need me to rush you to the hospital? Fuck, you think you broke something?” the words just kept flowing and flowing. “Where were you even going? Why didn’t you just got out of the main entrance? This fucking parking lot. I swear we have to call the landlord and have him put some lights down here. Your shirt,” she grimaced, eyeing the blood standing out on the white fabric. Aelin looked him in the eye, “I have a very similar one upstairs? You want me to go fetch it for you, I could-”
“Jesus Christ!” he yelled, putting his hands in between them, forcing her to step back, “Shut the fuck up!”
Aelin’s mouth closed shut and her eyebrows raised so high she felt her skin pull on her temples. She crossed her arms over her chest. Her eyes popping out.
This man. Sure, she’d just ran him over, but no one had ever talked to her like that.
“I’m fine.” he grumbled, “And I live in this building, I’ll go take my own shirt, thank you.” He took a deep breath, brushing off his trousers and bending to gather his stuff that had scattered around during his fall. When he lifted his head again, he gave her a tight smile and his piercing green eyes stared at her with an intensity that had Aelin’s toes curling in her shoes.
“Have a nice day.”
He then proceeded to walk away, leaving Aelin alone in the darkish driveway.
She looked around, hoping to see someone who could confirm that it had just been a figment of her imagination, but there was no one.
Getting back in her car, Aelin started the engine and drove up to the street, chewing on her lips, “What the fuck just happened?”
***
Aelin had thought all day about the mysterious man. She hadn’t been able to focus during her meetings and hadn’t even finished one of her projects. Something that she sure as fuck knew her boss would make her notice and work her ass off to make up for once word got to him.
Her day had started off so bad she knew it couldn’t get any worse, but she’d been wrong.
Her assistant had spilled coffee over her only finished drawing and herself. One of her coworkers had decided today was the perfect day to quit her job and pile her projects on Aelin’s desk. Then she’d gone out for lunch with some of her friends and it had started raining so heavily she’d been forced to stay in the office, only eye-eating the mouth-watering dishes her friends had posted on their instagram stories. They’d made it to the diner just before the sky cracked open.
And, the cherry on top, someone had keyed her car.
She’d been on the verge of tears when she’d spotted the red stains of her neighbor’s blood on the parking lot floor when she got back home, but she didn’t let any fall.
She had a date.
And she wouldn’t let all these little things get to her and ruin what could possibly be the best night of her life.
One of her life-long best friends had set her up on a blind date with one of her boyfriend’s best friends. She’d promised the man was the perfect match, someone Elide thought would keep her on her toes and match her overflowing personality.
Aelin had been hesitant at first when Elide hadn’t wanted to give her a name, or show her a picture, claiming she’d go all FBI style on him and ruin their first meeting, but she’d also promised Aelin she’d met the guy a few times and he’d been nothing but a gentleman.
And she had heard so much of him she felt like she’d known him her whole life.
Some of the things Elide had told her, she’d liked better if she’d found directly from him, but Aelin was a picky woman and she wasn’t risking another date with a creeper.
She pulled up in the restaurant’s parking lot where Elide had reserved the four of them a table and turned off her car, clutching the wheel. She took a deep breath. And another.
She was still a little worked up and all the pent-up emotions of the day were threatening to spill over the surface any minute, but she could make it past dinner and then have her little monthly breakdown in the peace and quiet of her apartment.
She fixed her lipstick, tightened up her ponytail and let two strands of hair cascade on the side of her face. She blew herself a kiss in the mirror, “You can do it.” she whispered as a short pet talk.
She got off the car, pulled out her phone to check if Elide was already inside and she was so focused on the screen she failed to notice someone backing up right in front of her until it was too late.
The car only bumped into her hip, but it was enough to make her lose her balance.
Aelin merely had time to register what was happening that she found herself lying in a puddle of rain and mud. She closed her eyes at the dull pain on the back of her head, but she knew for a fact the hit hadn’t been that bad.
She lifted her arms up, looking down at the wet spots on her dress, darkening by the second. Her seventy euros purse soaking up the water all around her.
The tension behind her eyes just increased when she heard the driver’s door open and someone step out of the car. She couldn’t have stopped the sobs even if she wanted to.
“Miss? Oh god, I’m so sorry. Are you alright?”
Strong arms circled her waist and pulled her up in a standing position. She brought her hands to her face, her body now racked by her crying as she tried to get a handle of herself.
“Miss?” the voice called again, now nearer. “Are you hurt? I didn’t-” the man talking stopped suddenly and Aelin looked up, not seeing anything through the tears. “You.”
And then it hit her.
That voice.
She knew that voice.
She ran her hand over her face, rubbing her eyes and staring right back at the man she had ran over that same morning.
Her mouth fell open.
He was looking at her with an amused expression and Aelin couldn’t find the words once again.
What was it with this man and his ability to take her ability to talk by just showing up?
He had a transparent band-aid on his cheek, his cut far less severe than she had thought, and his eyes were glistening with mirth. He was wearing a simple black pair of jeans and a dark green t-shirt, but he was even more handsome than in his work clothes.
Aelin was taking rushed, trembling breaths, and she was about to kill this man with her bare hands. Shred his skin off his bones and have him beg-
“I guess we’re even now, uh?”
His attempt of a joke flew over her head and she charged at him, a scream lodged in her throat.
His eyes widened and he took a step back when she flung her arm at him, trying to hit him. His hands closed around her wrists, blocking her from causing him more harm that she’d already done.
“You asshole!” she was screaming at the top of her lungs. “You ruined my dress!”
Aelin lifted a leg, more than convinced to kneel his balls, but he managed to block her blow again, infuriating her even more.
“I was about to meet the love of my life and ruined my fucking dress!”
He tried to push her away from him, still squeezing her wrists, and his brow furrowed.
“He’s everything I’ve ever dreamed of. He’s a pediatrician! He loves children! And he has a cute fucking dog my friend said I would love and cuddle the shit out of! Her name is Fleetfoot and she’s a golden retriever and Elide knows I fucking love goldens. And he’s from Orynth, just. Like. Me!” she got louder and louder with every word she spit out. “And he’s tall, and handsome and he’s the perfect match! And I deserved this one night!”
The man was now looking at her with a dumbfounded expression, his hold slightly loosening.
“I’m so done with this dating thing and I’d finally found him and you!” she shoved a finger in his chest, making him retreat a few steps. “You wanted your payback so bad you ran me over with your car!
“And now he’s gonna take one look at me and think I’m a fucking psycho! I bet my hair are the most disgusting thing he’s ever seen and my make up. Oh fuck, I must look like a panda.” Aelin started crying harder, laying her hands flat on the man’s torso, pushing her head to his chest. “I look like a fucking panda.”
She tried to speak again but her mind just couldn’t form any coherent thought, until she felt the man’s arms closing around her shoulders. He stepped closer, running his hand up and down her back, whispering something she couldn’t really hear over her crying.
Aelin didn’t know how much time she spent in the stranger’s embrace, but when the gravity of the scene she’d just made in front of him downed on her, she felt her body flare up in embarrassment.
That was her life now?
Having mental breakdowns in a dark parking lot after someone she’d ran over with her car had returned the gesture and then making them console her?
She detached herself from the man and for a second she thought she’d felt him hesitate before he took a step back. And another, leaving her standing her in her soaking wet dress and her puffy, surely-red eyes. He bent down, picking up her purse and handing it to her.
She lowered her gaze, not even daring looking at his shoes and closed her eyes.
“I’m sorry.”
The man made a sound of surprise, “Why would you be sorry?”
Aelin wished she could die on the spot. Evaporate out of existence.
“For hitting you. Or at least trying. And crying all over you.” she said and then grimaced. She ran a hand over her face. “I just had a very hard day and I wasn’t even sure I wanted to come, but this guy seriously seems like he could be the missing piece to whatever the fuck my puzzle-life is. I didn’t want to take a raincheck and have him thinking I’m not serious about this.”
A beat of silence, “I’m sure he would have understood.”
She shook her head, keeping on talking as if he hadn’t even been there, “And now I can’t go in like this.” she passed her hands on her dress, the tears building up again in her eyes. “Plus, Elide didn’t tell me what he looks like, cause she thinks he’s a real snack and wanted to see my face when I saw him for the first time.” she was bordering on pouting, “That means he’s gotta be smoking hot or I’ll be so pissed at her.”
The man snorted loudly, “A snack.” he hummed, “Maybe I should meet your friend and thank her.”
Aelin’s head snapped up, “Oh no, she’s taken.” she shook her head vehemently, “Like so freaking taken. I swear she and her boyfriend have been together for a whole of three months and they already act like a married couple.”
He nodded, a lopsided smile on his face, “I know the kind.”
She’d been so absorbed by her talking that she hadn’t noticed she’d stopped crying.
She breathed through her nose and clasped her hands together, before reaching one out towards him, “I think introductions are needed. I’m Aelin.” she offered a tentative smile.
His hand engulfed hers, shaking it with impressive gentleness. His smile grew even larger if possible and Aelin was starting to think she was about to het murdered.
But then he said his name and the world ceased existing around them.
Their hands still moving up and down between them.
She tilted her head forward, “I’m sorry, could you repeat that?”
He licked his lower lip, “I’m Rowan.”
Aelin closed her eyes, holding her breath.
She squeezed his hand before releasing it. She took a step back, wishing for the ground beneath her feet to crack open and just eat her whole.
“I’m gonna go kill myself now, if you’ll excuse me.”
His laugh reached her ears with painful speed.
Rowan.
She couldn’t believe it.
Well, she could. The man laughing his heart out at her expense was probably the most handsome person she’d ever seen in her entire life.
At least Elide hadn’t lied about that.
“A tad dramatic, if you ask me,” he said as his laugh died down. He pointed at the restaurant behind him, “You want me to go fetch the married couple so we can go back at the appartment and you can change? I’m not against you walking in there with this outfit at all,” he gave a pointed look, matched by a shit-eating grin that seemed to be etched in his lips, “I’m not gonna think you’re a psycho, not for this at least, and I’m ready to fight everyone who looks at you the wrong way. But you look like you could use the comfort of a warm house.”
Aelin looked up at him with a questioning look, trying to understand if this man she’d just tried to maul was seriously offering her options, letting her choose after everything that had gone down so far between the two of them. As if still giving her a chance.
Rowan arched a brow, looking around and glancing back at her, “Aelin?”
Oh, fuck.
She had been oh so not ready o hear her name from his lips.
She nodded and he smiled, leaning down a bit.
She could smell his cologne from here.
“Yes to what? Me calling Lorcan and Elide or getting inside even if you dripping wet?”
Holy fucking shit, this man shouldn’t have been allowed to say the words dripping wet.
She stilled herself.
What the hell was she thinking? She brought her hands to her face, “Please call them and let’s head home. I’m so fucking tired.” a yawn broke her sentence, as to prove her words, “And I’m freezing in this skimpy dress.”
Rowan rushed to her side, “Oh, god, sorry for not offering sooner, here,” he opened the trunk of his car and pulled out a huge blue sweater. Without even waiting for an answer he snatched her purse from her hands and shoved her head in his sweater.
Aelin felt better right away and gave him a big smile.
Rowan answered with one of his own and of course he had to be this perfect and more.
“I’m sorry for ruining your dress, I’ll make sure they wash it carefully when I take it to the laundry. If you’d let me.”
She nodded faintly, exhaling the panty-dropping smell of his sweater.
“And I’m hoping to see you wear it again once we finally get to go on a proper date.” he smirked, “I bet you looked amazing before I went and ran you over.”
Aelin chuckled, shaking her head, “You truly are a gentleman. Elide wasn’t exaggerating.”
Rowan’s demeanor changed completely and Aelin feared she’d said something wrong, but he averted his gaze as if he was embarassed.
“I’m sorry for this morning,” he said. Aelin almost tripped on her feet. He was sorry? “I shouldn’t have talked to you like that but I was just coming back from the hospital and Elide was right saying I work with kids, but I’m not a pediatrician, I’m a pediatric surgeon.”
His gaze grew dark as he looked over her shoulder, avoiding meeting her eyes at all costs.
“Yesterday night we lost a eight years old and I wasn’t really there when you hit me with your car. I didn’t mean to yell at you like I did, it was just-”
Rowan couldn’t finish his sentence that Aelin lunged for him, hugging him as tight as he’d held her a few minutes before, hoping she could relieve some of the pain that was surely clutching his heart. She felt him sag in her arms and hold her in turn.
She was glad she could offer some kind of support.
“It must be hard.” she whispered against his chest.
Rowan nodded, hitting her head with his chin, “It is, but it’s part of the job. The only way you can live with something like that in your baggage is knowing you did everything you could to save them.”
Aelin could feel the emotion lacing his every word and tightened her arms for a moment before freeing him of her embrace. He silently thanked her and told her he’d be right back with their friends.
The second he was gone she realized she couldn’t wait for when he’d be back and they could keep talking.
She’d never felt this way before. Not this fast at least.
Sure, she had loved all her exes, but this. This was different.
There was something there, a connection.
And while he walked back to her, Lorcan and Elide in tow, a bright smile on his handsome face, she couldn’t help but think she was ready to find out all about it.
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Text
The Husky and His White Cat Shizun - Chapter 6
Original Title:  二哈和他的白猫师尊
Genres: Drama, Romance, Tragedy, Xianxia, Yaoi
This translation is based on multiple MTLs and my own limited knowledge of Chinese characters. If I have made any egregious mistakes, please let me know.
Chapter Index
Chapter 6 - This Venerable One's Shizun
Xue Meng had lived on Life-Death Peak since he was a child. He was familiar with shortcuts and terrain so he had no problem catching up with Mo Ran
He escorted him all the way to the back of the mountain. The back mountain of Life-Death Peak was the closest place to the ghost realm in the whole world, separated by an enchantment, behind it is the netherworld.
Looking at the miserable situation in the back mountain, Mo Ran immediately understood why that person was clearly at home, but still needed Madam Wang to treat guests in the front hall.
It wasn't that the man didn’t want to help, but he couldn’t step away--
The barrier of the ghost world was broken.
At this moment, the entire back mountain was filled with a heavy spiritual resentment. The ghosts that hadn't taken on a body howled and hovered bitterly in the air. At the entrance of the mountain gate, there was a giant breach ripping through the sky. Behind the breach was the ghost realm, and a tall, bluestone staircase stretching thousand of steps escaped from the barrier cracks. Seeing out from the staircase, the fierce spirits that had regained a flesh body were climbing down this step disorderly and chaotically, rushing from the underworld to the human world.
Any ordinary person would be terrified at the scene unfolding. The first time Mo Ran saw it, he was shocked to the bone, but he was used to it now.
The barrier between the human and ghost realms was set by Emperor Fuxi in ancient times. Today, it was very weak. It would grow weak spots every now and again, which need to be repaired by immortal cultivators. However, this kind of thing not only does little to improve one's cultivation but is thankless with how much spiritual energy it consumes. It was a real drudgery, so few immortals in the upper cultivation world were willing to take this job.
When a fierce spirit was born, the people of the Lower Cultivation Realm were the first to come under attack. As the protectors of the Lower Cultivation Realm, Life-Death Peak was forced to undertake the task of repairing the barrier. The back mountains of the sect faced the weakest point in the barrier all to ensure they could be repaired swiftly.
There would be breaks in the barrier about four or five times a year. It was just like an old, chipped pot; useless.
Now, at the entrance of the ghost world, on the long bluestone stairs, a man stood there with snow-coloured clothes and wide sleeves flowing in the wind. He was surrounded by the aura of his sword, the golden light shimmering. Using his own power to clear out the evil spirits and ghosts, he repaired the small holes appearing in the barrier.
The man had a slender waist and an elegant appearance, with a holy aura and a handsome face. From a distance, it was easy to imagine he was a scholar reading an ancient scroll under a flowering tree. However, looking closely, he had sharp eyebrows, phoenix eyes slanted upwards, and the bridge of his nose was straight and narrow. While he seemed to be gentle and elegant, his eyes were mean and seemingly unkind.
Mo Ran glanced at him from a distance. Although he thought he had prepared himself, when he saw this man appear in front of him alive and healthy again, it made him tremble down to his smallest bones.
Half fear, half. . . excitement.
His Shizun.
Chu Wanning.
This was the person that Xue Meng had cried and begged to see when he arrived at Wushan Hall in the previous life.
It was this man that ruined Mo Ran's ambition, ruined his plans, and was finally imprisoned and tortured to death by Mo Ran because of it.
Logically speaking, if Mo Ran had the chance to avenge himself and defeat the enemy that had blocked his progress.
The sea is wide and free for fish to swim in, the sky is high and the birds could fly endlessly, no one could reign him back anymore. At least, that's what Mo Ran thought.
However, that doesn't seem to be the case.
After his Shizun died, something else seemed to have been buried along with his hatred.
Mo Ran was not a man of culture and didn't recognize any other feeling than being evenly matched with a worthy opponent.
He only knows that here on out, he had no archenemies.
When Shizun was alive, he had been afraid, paranoid, and anxious. When he saw the willow vine in Shizun's hand, the hair on the back of his neck stood on up. He became just like a beaten mutt, just the sound of a wooden club slap caused his teeth to ache and legs to give out. Even his calf muscles would spasm from fear.
Later, when Shizun died, the person Mo Ran had feared the most was finally gone. Mo Ran felt that he had grown and matured, being able to finally commit this act of murdering his teacher.
Afterwards, when looking at the mortal realm, no one dared force him to kneel down, and no longer slapped himself in the face.
To celebrate, he opened the pear blossom white wine, sat on the roof, and drank wine all night.
That night, under the influence of alcohol, the scars that Shizun had inflicted on his back when he was a teenager seemed to feel hot and painful again.
At this moment, when he saw Shizun reappear in front of him, Mo Ran started, filled with hate and anger, but there was also a slight twinge of ecstasy.
Such an opponent, lost and now regained, how can he not please?
Chu Wanning ignored the two apprentices who broke into the back mountains and continued concentrating on fighting the scattered undead.
His facial features were elegant, his eyebrows are evenly long. His phoenix eyes were cast downwards, his cool demeanour powerful. Amidst the demonic air and blood rain, his expression had not changed. His face remained calm, as though he might sit down and burn incense or play the guqin at the moment.
However, such a gentle and beautiful man, at that moment, was holding an icy exorcism long sword dripping with red blood droplets. With a flick of his wide sleeve, the sword's energy sliced through the bluestone steps in an explosion. Crushed stones and bricks rolled down, cracking an immeasurable chasm from the gate all the way to the bottom of the mountain, splitting the staircase and its thousands of steps!
So ferocious.
How many years had it been since he had seen his Shizun's power?
This familiar and powerful dominance made Mo Ran lose all his strength. Shakily, he fell onto his knees with a thump.
It didn't take long for Chu Wanning to kill all the ghosts, and neatly fill in the holes in the barrier to the ghost world. After doing all this, he fell from mid-air and went over to Mo Ran and Xue Meng.
He first glanced at Mo Ran kneeling on the ground, and then raised his eyes to look at Xue Meng, his phoenix eyes holding a powerful chill.
"Causing trouble again?"
Mo Ran sucked in a breath.
Shizun had the ability to always correctly assume any situation.
Xue Meng: "Shizun, Mo Ran went down the mountain, committing the two crimes of stealing and prostitution. Please punish him accordingly, Shizun."
Chu Wanning was silent for a while, expressionless. He coldly remarked: "I know."
Mo Ran: ". . ."
Xue Meng: ". . ."
Both of them were a little confused. Then? Is that it?
However, just when Mo Ran thought tat he had gotten off lucky, he looked up at Chu Wanning and caught a a glimpse of a sharp golden light suddenly cutting through the air. There was a lightening-like crackling sound that slashed across Mo Ran's cheek!!
Drops of blood splashed everywhere!
The speed of that golden light was so fast, Mo Ran didn't even have a moment to close his eyes, let alone dodge it. The skin on his face was flayed open with a fierce pain.
Chu Wanning stood with his hands clasped behind his back, standing coldly in the chilling breeze of teh night air. The air was still filled with the foul aura of fierce spirits and ghosts mixed with the smell of human blood. It made the forbidden area of the back mountains appear even more eerie and terrifying.
In Chu Wanning's hand was a willow vine that had whipped Mo Ran. The vine was narrow and long, with green leaves sprouting from it, hanging down near the edge of his boots.
It was clearly sucha graceful object. Looking at it would have made people think of poems such as "Pliant is the the willow branch I gift to my beloved".
It's a pity that Chu Wanning was neither pliant or had a beloved.
The willow vine in his hand was actually a magic weapon named Tianwen. At this moment, Tianwen was glimmering with golden red light, piercing through the surrounding darkness, and also reflecting in the bottomless depths of Chu Wanning's eyes.
Chu Wanning pursed his lips, and said sensibly: "Mo Weiyu, you are so bold. Should I really not do something to discipline you?"
If this really was the fifteen-year old Mo Ran, he might not have taken this exclamation seriously, thinking that Shizun was just trying to scare him.
But after being reborn, Mo Weiyu had thoroughly experienced Shizun’s "control" with his blood in his previous life. He immediately felt the roots of his teeth ache and blood rushing to his head. His mouth was already moving, ready to deny everything and clear his name
"Shizun. . ." His cheek still bleeding, Mo Ran raised his eyes, staining them with a thin veil of tears. He knew that his current appearance must look extremely pitiful. "This disciple has never stolen. . . has never laid with a prostitute. . . why did Shizun listen to Xue Meng's words and strike me without even listening to my side of the story?"
". . ."
Mo Ran had two tricks to get out of trouble with his uncle. First, act cute. Second, pretend to be pitiful. Now he tried these out on Chu Wanning, trying to look so pitiful that tears almost fell from his eyes: "Is the disciple really so worthless in your eyes? Why doesn't Shizun even give me a chance to defend myself?"
Xue Meng stomped angrily next to him: "Mo Ran! You, you piece of shit! You truly are shameless! Sizun, don't listen to him, don't be fooled by this bastard! He really did steal! All the stolen goods are still on him!"
Chu Wanning looked through his eyelashes, his expression cold: "Mo Ran, you truly never stole?"
"Never."
". . . You should know the consequences of lying to me."
Mo Ran's arms were covered in goosebumps. How could he not know? But he still foolishly persisted: "Shizun, please!"
Chu Wanning raised his hand, and the shiny golden vine waved again, but this time he did not draw it on the face of Mo Ran. Instead, he used it to tightly bind Mo Ran.
This feeling was all too familiar. In addition to whipping people on the regular, the willow vine "Tianwen" has another function——
Chu Wanning stared at Mo Ran, who was held tightly in Tianwen's grasp, and asked again: "Have you never stolen?"
Suddenly, there was a familiar stabbing pain straight in Mo Ran's heart, as if a sharp fanged small snake had slid its way into his chest and was playing with his organs.
Accompanied by the severe pain was an irresistible temptation. Mo Ran couldn't help but open his mouth, his voice hoarse: "I. . . never. . . ah. . . !!!"
Tianwen's golden light seemed to pick up on his lies, glowing harder. The pain caused Mo Ran to break out in a cold sweat, but he still desperately resisted such torture.
This was Tianwen's second function: interrogation.
Once tied up by Tianwen, no one could lie. Whether it was a person or a ghost, dead or alive, Tianwen had a way of forcing them to speak and reveal the answer that Chu Wanning wanted to know.
In his last life, by relying on a strong cultivation base, there was only one person who had finally managed to keep a secret under Tianwen's influence.
That person was the person who had become the emperor of the mortal realm, Mo Weiyu.
After being reborn, Mo Ran had hoped he'd have a bit of luck, thinking that he would still be able to resist the forced interrogation of Tianwen. But after biting his lip for what felt like forever, with big beads of sweat dripping down over his dark eyebrows and full-body trembles, he finally bowed before Chu Wanning's boots in pain, gasping for breath.
"I. . . I. . . stole. . ."
The pain abruptly disappeared.
Mo Ran hadn't even caught his breath before Chu Wanning asked another question, his voice even colder than before.
"Did you commit debauchery?"
Smart people don't do stupid things. Since he hadn't been able to resist before, it was even more impossible now. This time, Mo Ran didn't even resist, and when the pain struck, he went so far to even shout: "Yes yes I did!!!! Shizun please! No more!"
Xue Meng's face turned blue at his side. He exclaimed with shock: "You, how can you. . . That Rong Jiu is a man, you actually. . ."
No one paid attention to him. As the golden light of Tianwen slowly dimmed, Mo Ran gasped for breath, his whole body was drenched as if he had just been fished from the water. His face was as white as paper, his lips still trembling, and he collapsed on the ground, unable to move.
Through sweaty eyelashes, he looked up at Chu Wanning's elegant figure, wearing a green jade crown and wide sleeves that fell to the floor.
A strong hatred suddenly surged into his heart - Chu Wanning! This Venerable One wasn't wrong in is treatment of you in his past life, that much is true!! Even after being reborn, the hatred still burns strong! Fuck all eighteen generations of your ancestors!!
Chu Wanning didn't know that this crafty disciple was going to fuck all eighteen generations of his ancestors. He stood there for a while with a sullen expression, and then said.
"Xue Meng."
Although Xue Meng knows that men were the popular choice among rich businessmen and wealthy households, and many people play with male prostitutes just for something new and not really because they liked men, he still couldn't digest it. After a while, he said: "Shizun, this disciple is here."
"Mo Ran went against the three mandates on corruption, debauchery, and deception. Take him to the Yan Luo Hall so he can repent. Bring him to the Platform of Righteousness and Evil tomorrow morning so that he receive a public punishment."
Xue Meng was startled: "What. . .? Public punishment?"
Public punishment means taking the disciples who have committed severe transgressions in front of the disciples of the whole school, in front of everyone, even the ladies in the dining hall, and punishing them for the crowd.
Utterly shameful.
It should be known that Mo Ran was a disciple of Life-Death Peak. Although the disciplinary measures in the school were strict, because of Mo Ran's special status - his uncle pitied him for losing his parents so young and was scavenging outside for fourteen years - he couldn't bear to punish Mo Ran. No matter what Mo Ran did, he would just get a small lecture in private, and he would be beaten.
But Shizun wouldn't even save the face of the sect leader. He wanted to take his precious nephew to the Platform of Righteousness and Evil and publicly punish and shame Young Master Mo in front of the entire sect. This was something even Xue Meng hadn't expected.
Mo Ran, however, wasn't surprised.
He lay on the ground with a sneer at the corner of his mouth.
How great and selfless his Shizun was.
Chu Wanning was truly cold-blooded. In his previous life, when Shi Mei died in front of him, Mo Ran cried and pleading, pulling on his clothes, kneeling on the ground and begging him for help.
But Chu Wanning turned a deaf ear.
And so his disciple had breathed his last breath before him, and even with Mo Ran crying his heart out next to him, Chu Wanning simply stood there and ignored his sobs.
Now all he was doing was putting him on the Platform of Righteousness and Evil to be dealt with before the public. There was nothing strange about this.
Mo Ran could only resent how weak his cultivation base was now. He couldn't peel off Chu Wanning's skin, rip out his nerves, drink his blood, can’t pull his hair back, can't insult him, can’t torture him and destroy his dignity, make him desire nothing but death. . .
He hadn't been able to hide the beast-like hatred in his eyes, and Chu Wanning picked up on it.
He faintly glanced at Mo Ran's face, a stoic expression on a gentle and elegant face.
"What are you thinking about?"
Fuck!
Tianwen hadn't been removed yet!
Mo Ran once again felt the vines tying him up, and his internal organs felt like they were about to be squeezed into mush. He yelled in pain, panting and roaring out the thoughts in his head——
"Chu Wanning, you think you're so refined! Watch me fuck you to death!"
No one made a sound.
Chu Wanning: ". . ."
Even Xue Meng was stunned: ". . ."
Tianwen suddenly retracted Chu Wanning's palm, turning into a small speck of golden light before disappearing altogether. Tianwen was made from the bones and blood of Chu Wanning and could appear when summoned and vanished at will.
Xue Meng's face was pale and he stuttered: "Shi-Shizun. . ."
Chu Wanning didn't say a word. His delicate black and slender eyelashes lowered, examining his palms for a while. Then, he raised his eyes, his face even, but his complexion even colder. He glared at Mo Ran with a gaze saying "this disciple deserves death", then said in a low voice:
"Tianwen is broken, I am going to go fix it."
Chu Wanning threw down these words, turned and left.
Xue Meng was kind of slow: "How could an immortal weapon like Tianwen be broken?"
Chu Wanning heard it, and glanced back at him with a look of "this disciple deserves death" as well. Xue Meng shuddered.
Mo Ran lay on the ground, half-dead, with a blank expression.
What he had been thinking really was looking for a way to fuck Chu Wanning to death. He knew that the Master Chu, who held titles like "Yuheng of the Night Sky, Beidou Immortal", had always paid attention to elegance and correctness, and he couldn't stand being stepped on by others, defiling him.
But he didn't want Chu Wanning to know that he was thinking that!
Mo Ran whimpered like a stray dog, covering his face.
Thinking of the look in Chu Wanning's eyes when he was leaving, he felt that he probably did not have long to wait until his death.
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mishirak · 3 years
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Beauty in Everything (1/2)
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Pairing: Gaston(Beauty and the Beast) x F!Reader
Ratings: General
Warnings: Injuries and sick mother
A/N: It’s a self-indulge fanfic that’s why the reader is female! The other parts are not done yet, get bend while I’m writing the other part (・ω<)☆ .
And a big Thank you to @no-ones-friend​ for proofreading an encouraging me during the making of this fanfic. Love ya!
Like my works? Support me on Ko-fi!
> Part Two
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You are [Y/N]; you’re the only daughter and the backbone of the [L/N] family. Your father passed away a year ago, and your mother has been ill ever since you could remember. The years went by like a blur; there wasn’t anything interesting during your years of living. You never really feel connected to the townspeople. You always stay with your mother and learn things from her, such as cooking, sewing, and other housewife-related chores.
The only people you know are the old women that help your mother and take care of you; you consider them like your aunts and grandmas. Your thoughts were broken by the voice of your mother. “When will you get married, [Y/N]? Women at your age should find a man to settle down with and have children.” You sighed. Ever since your father passed away, she’s been nagging you about finding the right one, get married, and having children together.
“Mama, you know I don’t feel connected to anyone in this town; no one even talks to me other than Aunt Agathe and Belle.” You replied as you’re cutting the fabric. Honestly, you’re grateful that Aunt Agathe offers to take care of your mother. You go town to town selling clothes, fabrics to get money, and the medicines for your mother’s illness. You can’t imagine leaving your mother all alone in your house without any help.
“I think this is good; I hope Belle likes it,” you said, sighing. An old friend of yours decided to ask you to make her a dress, she was very persistent about making her a dress. You want to decline it because you don’t think you are as good as the top designers, let alone for a princess, but Belle won’t take no for an answer. She insisted that she wants you to be the one to make her the dress. Luckily, you weren’t in a time crunch or making the dress in a specific style for an event, it’s just what Belle wants to wear in a day-to-day outfit.
“I’m sure she will; you two have been friends ever since you were a child. You know what she likes. She’s such a simple girl.” Your mother said, trying to lift your spirits, cupping your face and squish your cheeks. “How beautiful you have grown. I can’t believe you’re the same shy girl that always hides behind me,” she said. Suddenly being sentimental, which wasn’t uncommon lately as her sickness got worse. The mood was quickly interrupted as she turned away from you and coughs to her arm.
You grab her and lead her to sit down on the chair, “I go make some tea for you” you said and went to the kitchen. Your mother turns to look at you and just shakes her head before closing her eyes.
You packed everything that you need, you decided to buy the medicine after sending the dress to Belle. Aunt Agathe luckily agrees to take care of your mother while you go to the town over to buy the medicine.
“I’ll get going now!” You shouted and turned your body to wave goodbye to your mother, “yes, and be careful out there!” your mother replied, and with that, you’re off with your horse, Josephine. You are very nervous, it’s not every day you got to go to the castle, let alone making a dress for the princess. You would be lying if you say you didn’t envy Belle’s luck, it’s been a few years since she’s met Prince Adam, broke his curse, and then got married not long after.
After a while of riding, you’ve arrived at the gate of the castle with guards guarding it, you told them what you’re here for, and they let you in. You saw Belle and a servant waiting for you, you climb off from the horse with the dress in your arms, the servant takes your horse to put them in a stable, so you and Belle can catch up and go inside the castle.
You wouldn’t say you were close to Belle; you both don’t have much in common. She’s a lovely company to have while you’re cutting fabrics or stitching; she would read the book aloud to you as you work.
“How was your mother?” She asked as you two arrived at her and Adam’s shared room; you were awed by the size of the room. It’s almost as big as your home. “Oh! Um, she’s fine, though her condition is getting worse by the year. I’m going to buy the medicine after this.” You answered her as you gave her the dress. “Try it out first and tell me what you think!” You said as you push her to change.
You look around the room, admiring everything; you stop as you hear footsteps behind you. You saw Belle in the dress you’ve made for her. “So, what do you think? Anything you would like to change? Is it too tight or too loose? Is the fabric itchy?” You bombarded her with questions as you see her twirling around, “relax, the fabric feels nice, and it’s just perfect for me,” she answers as she places her hands on your shoulders.
You sighed out of relief, “if that’s all, I will get going then, as I said, I need to buy my mother’s medicine, and thank you for buying from me.” You said; Belle replied with a nod and hugged you before you took your leave. The servant shows up with your horse. You thanked them as you got up and went to the town.
You weren’t quite familiar with the route; you constantly check the map to make sure you weren’t lost. You probably should have gone back home instead of going straight to the town from the castle. It’s gotten dark, and Josephine is getting tired. You decided to rest for a bit; you get off of her back and let her take a break as you continue to look at the map and marking down.
Suddenly you hear wolves howling, which sends Josephine into a panic. You quickly try to calm her down, but the howling continues, she quickly runs away. You ran after her, not wanting to lose her; you call out her name, hoping that maybe she will slow down; you can’t see well in the dark and soon lost her. You slow down to catch your breath, trying to calm yourself down.
You don’t know where you are; you wander, trying to hear a sound of a horse or anything. You didn’t see where you were going and slip on the ledge and slide down to the bottom; you groaned in pain. You look up and try to climb up, but it was ineffective. You quickly look around to find a way out, you hear a growl from behind you. You turn around and saw a massive creature right in front of you. It slowly approaches you, and you instinctively step back every time It gets closer to you until you were cornered.
You put your arms up to shield yourself from an upcoming attack from the beast, “are you lost?” A deep male voice pierces into your ears; you blink a couple of times and slowly put your arms down to look at the beast. “W-what?” That’s all you said as you continue to look at him, trying to see his features. He didn’t look like a man; he was far from it. He is a hairy beast with horns on top of his head.
“Are you lost?” He asked again and turned away from you, feeling uncomfortable under your gaze. “Oh, um, yes. I fell while trying to find my horse, Josephine. The sounds of wolves howling startled her, and she ran away.” You replied awkwardly. The beast just replied with a hm, you decided to ask him something, “do you know the town nearby the castle? Villeneuve? I live there.”
“Yes, I do” he answers you, and with excitement, you clasp your hands together, “thank you! Would you lead the way?” You said as you get closer to him, he is your chance of going back home! “Follow me,” he said as he walks away, and you do as he said but stop dead at your track as you felt pain around your ankle.
You hissed in pain as you sit on the ground to check your ankle. There were some minor wounds, scratches from the rough slide. You try to take another step, but the same pain comes back. “Stop doing that. You will only add more damage to your ankle. Here.” You see the beast kneel to your level, “I’ll carry you instead.” You hesitantly wrap your arms around his neck as he grabs your legs and stands back up, giving you a piggyback ride to your way home.
You took a deep breath and mutter ‘thank you’ to him. He didn’t say anything and keeps walking.
The silence is deafening, it’s killing you. You think of something to talk about. “my name is [Y/N], what’s yours?” “you can call me whatever you want” You sighed, so much for an attempt. “Then I call you Beast,” you said, and he just grunts as a response. “We’re going to my...home first. Get your ankle fix.”
You nodded and close your eyes to rest for a bit.
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nightingaelic · 3 years
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could you do Fallout New Vegas companion’s reactions to a Courier Six who is also the Lone Wanderer telling their stories from their time in DC? (bonus points for Arcade’s reaction to them hating the enclave, and if that would make him decide to keep his past hidden even longer, or if he would still tell them?)
The logistics and implications of this make my head spin. This is also super long, honestly I should just quit writing reacts and start writing fics OH WAIT
Getting the courier talking was a tough thing to do, but on nights where the moon was full and the coyotes' howls were miles away or at least behind some stout walls, on nights where they were a few beers in and they hadn't seen another living soul in a few days, that Mojave Express deliverer started to reminisce. That wasn't really the surprising part, though. No, the surprising part was what they would remember, fondly or not-so-fondly: A world apart from the desert, a continent away on another coast, and stories of life in a vault, a missing father, pure water and a Brotherhood divided.
Arcade Gannon: Arcade didn't mind these moods, at least when they first cropped up. He nodded along as the courier talked about living in their father's shadow, about feeling cornered by their own family's legacy. He hung on their words about living in the cradle of America's history, about Project Purity, all of the gritty details of modifying a GECK to bring water to a devastated wasteland.
Eventually though, the courier's memories soured, with the arrival of Enclave remnants in their life. Arcade folded into himself with every harsh word, every jolt of plasma that had disrupted his friend's world relived in horrific detail. They gestured angrily as they described their newfound purpose, their battle for power with the fractured Brotherhood of Steel at their back, and their smug satisfaction at the moments they were able to crack open Raven Rock and the Enclave's mobile base crawler and lay waste to their tormentors.
It took a few rounds of these stories before the courier noticed he shrank and grew quiet whenever they neared the end of their story about breaking into another vault to find the GECK. They stopped abruptly one night. "What's up with you?"
"Um..." Arcade scratched the back of his neck and looked away. "Nothing. Nothing, I just... have some personal experience with the Enclave, myself."
The courier sighed. "Yeah, there's a few people walking around the West Coast that have similar stories to mine. Arroyo's full of them, for one. Is it something like that?"
Arcade took a deep breath. "I feel... well, it's a lot closer to home, for me. Close enough to raise questions, so I don't talk about it much."
"Close enough to..." The courier twisted their face up in confusion for a moment, before realization set in and their eyes grew large. "You were... your... oh."
"Mmm-hm."
"Well, fuck me." The courier smiled and popped a cap off of another beer. "I've been doing all the talking, haven't I? Let's hear your story about working with the guys in power armor who ruined my life, right after dad did."
Craig Boone: Whenever the courier started up like this, Boone couldn't help but notice a familiar twinge of regret and self-doubt in their voice. It shone through most clearly when they spoke about their time with the Brotherhood of Steel, the men and women they'd fought alongside and lost during their struggle against the remnants of the Enclave. It was there, too, in their story about returning to the vault they grew up in, setting the chaos that had arisen in their wake to rest, but not being able to go back to the way things were.
Boone didn't pry. He knew that feeling well. Instead, he cracked open bottles of beer, liquor, soda, whatever they had on hand during their nights in the desert, and just listened. He'd done the same for Carla, when they were younger and new to each other and he couldn't get enough of her voice and how it flowed endlessly, easily, the way his never could. He absorbed it all now as he did then: The joy, the pain, the loss, the fear, the triumphs and falls and abandoned dreams that filled the courier up and drove them to travel west, beyond anything they had ever known.
That last part stumped Boone a bit, though. "Why didn't you stay?" he finally asked one night.
They looked surprised. "Stay? Stay where? I didn't have a home anymore."
Boone shook his head. "With the Brotherhood. Or some other settlement."
"Like Megaton?" The courier sighed. "I thought about it. Close to the vault, friendly people, easy work... I guess I just didn't want to wind up... stuck."
They flushed red and looked away from him. Boone knew why they were embarrassed, but he also knew the truth in their words.
Sometimes the courier cried after they had finished, though they did their best to hide it. Boone pretended not to notice. He was pretty sure they knew he was pretending, but he was also pretty sure that pointing it out would be worse than just letting it be an open secret between them. The silence between them endured, but something grew inside it and flourished. Some kind of deeper understanding.
Lily Bowen: The more the courier spoke, the more Lily made connections in her muddled mind. Of course they knew the basic layout of most vaults, they had grown up in one. Of course they were extra-sensitive to the Mojave heat, they had come to the desert from the cooler of the two coasts. Of course they'd been extra-wary around the super mutants or nightkin of Jacobstown, they had only known angry super mutants looking to grow their own numbers through any means necessary.
Their shared experience of growing up inside a vault reminded Lily of happier days, and she often asked questions about Vault 101 during the courier's stories. "Were you sweet on anyone inside your old home?" she asked, with a big smile befitting a proud grandma.
The courier blushed. "That's not very polite, Lily."
"Oh, I'm sorry, dearie."
"No, no it's okay." The courier smiled. "There was a boy who picked on me a lot, but I never figured out whether he did it because he hated me or liked me. His name was Butch. And there was Amata, my childhood friend. She was the daughter of the Overseer."
"Daughter of the Overseer?" Lily grinned. "I'm sure she was a lovely young woman."
The courier looked a little misty. "Yeah. She was. Probably still is."
Lily pulled a handkerchief that used to be a small tablecloth from inside her overalls and handed it over. "Maybe we can go back there together, pumpkin," she offered. "I always wanted to travel to the capital. We can visit your friends, see the sights."
"Yeah, maybe someday." The courier accepted the gift and blew their nose. "I've got some things I need to finish up here before I even think about wandering back east, though."
"Then let's make a list and do our chores," Lily said happily. "Number one?"
"Ohhhh, man." The courier smiled up at her. "I wouldn't even know where to start."
Raul Alfonso Tejada: Raul got a faint smile on his face whenever the courier started up like this, as if their memories reminded him of another place he had come from, another time. While they couldn't have more different backgrounds, pasts- hell, he had several hundred years on the courier, even if they shared the same road today- there was something in the description of the other roads they had walked that made him feel warm on a cold night.
"What's on your mind?" The courier asked him one night, when Raul's smile grew larger than usual.
"Nada, boss," he reassured them. "You're just a good reminder that I can change my mind about the future anytime I'd like. Tell me the one about that radio DJ again."
"Again?" The courier rolled their eyes. "Why? I could tell you a million stories about Underworld and all the ghouls that lived there, but all you want to hear about is Three Dog. You'd probably have more in common with the Underworld folks, honestly."
Raul nodded noncommittally. "Sí, but my favorite stories are about people who had to rise above bad situations and become someone uncommon. Anyone who's able to do that is either fighting for something great or running from something terrible. Sometimes both."
The courier shot him a skeptical look. "Three Dog's holed up in his radio station 24/7, he's not running from anything or out fighting for anything. All that stuff about 'the good fight' is a load of bull."
"Now, now, Six," Raul chastised. "Just because he looks like your average pendejo doesn't mean he isn't doing his part. You even told me his radio show is inspirational for the Capital Wasteland folks."
The courier held their hands up in the air and bobbled them, as if balancing an invisible scale. "The duality of man. Being an average pendejo, or convincing everyone around you that you aren't actually an average pendejo and can pull off miracles."
Raul laughed. "And which one are you, boss?"
"Eh, I'm still figuring it out."
Rose of Sharon Cassidy: Cass was never one for fixating on her own past, but she couldn't help but sympathize with the courier whenever they deigned to add onto their unbelievable story. It was hard enough for her to navigate her own damn life: She couldn't imagine being called upon to steer an entire area's destiny.
After another night of recalling their life inside a vault with their dad, then their unexpected loss of him right after being reunited on the surface, the courier stopped suddenly. "I'm sorry," they said.
Cass paused her swig of precious whiskey. "What?"
"I keep going on and on about my dad, and here you are not knowing what happened to yours."
"Eh." Cass took her drink and waved her hand around until the burning swallow made its way down. "S'loads of people in the wasteland without a clue what happened to their pops. I'm not special. In fact, I'd say it probably hurts a bit more, what happened with yours."
"Well, all the same." The courier sank deeper into their seat and examined their own bottle of spirits. "I feel like an open book, tonight. Anything you want to know about where I came from that I haven't already spilled?"
Cass thought for a moment. "Tribals."
"What about them?"
"Does the East Coast have them? You're not the first traveler I've met from there, but none of you have so much as mentioned any tribals out east."
"Mmm." The courier looked thoughtful. "I guess we do have them, though maybe not in the traditional sense. There's a mess of them in Point Lookout for sure, and at least one tribal group in the Capital Wasteland outright, but beyond that things are more... loose. Fewer intact families, fewer intact homes."
"Huh." Cass took another drink. "Maybe that's where my dad went."
She let the courier stew in the awkward silence for a bit before she grinned and reached out to smack them. "Just kidding. Keep going. I want to hear about that giant robot again."
Veronica Santangelo: Veronica usually sat and listened, spellbound, picturing a chapter of her order that had realized the very thing she kept trying to tell the Elders and made the ultimate sacrifice to follow their hearts anyway.
Well, maybe Elder Owyn Lyons hadn't come to the same realization as her, but he had had a change of heart that split his company and cut them off from almost everyone they had ever known. It had been five years since the High Elders had instituted radio silence toward their East Coast chapter, and so far there had been no attempts to re-establish contact.
Veronica prodded the courier for any info she could get about the Capital Wasteland Brotherhood of Steel. The courier let slip pretty early in their friendship that Elder Owyn Lyons had passed away, which wasn't unexpected. The man was 76 years old, after all. She learned on one particularly emotional night that his daughter, Elder Sarah Lyons, was also dead, something she wasn't sure even the Western Elders were aware of. That memory was clearly painful for the courier though, so Veronica didn't press for details.
"And the Enclave?" the Scribe asked one night, arms wrapped around her knees. "Are they completely gone?"
The courier grew cold. "Yes. I made sure of it."
"Right." Veronica nodded. "So the Brotherhood took over the air force base they were at. It must have been chock-full of tech and resources, if it was the Enclave's last stand."
"It was." The courier sighed and shifted in their seat. "And it woke up some of our brothers and sisters to their original mission in the Capital Wasteland. I thought maybe that selfishness had died with Liberty Prime, but... well, I didn't like it, so I left."
"Mmm, yeah." Veronica nodded again, sympathetically this time. "I know how you feel. Felt."
"Feel," the courier agreed. "I just wish there was more I could've done. Maybe there wasn't anything else, short of seizing power."
"You'd definitely get pushback for that in the Brotherhood," Veronica agreed. "But you might get that chance out here in the broader Mojave."
ED-E: At first, ED-E enjoyed the stories, trumpeting and cooing various beeps at the appropriate moments for emphasis. The one time the courier began badmouthing the Enclave, however, the eyebot waited until they had finished before playing back the first tape that Dr. Whitley had recorded before its trip.
The courier listened to the scientist's words from years ago, deflating slightly as it played out. When the tape had finished, they stood up and checked the eyebot over. "He sent you toward Navarro, huh?"
ED-E beeped affirmation, and the courier sighed. "But Navarro was already gone. I'm sorry. I guess I'm... well, me and the Brotherhood of Steel back east are responsible for your previous master's decision to send you away. Might be responsible for more, too."
ED-E beeped sadly. The courier pressed their forehead against the eyebot's metal dome in apology.
Rex: Well, surprising for most. Rex was not most. As soon as the courier got really into their recollections, Rex usually yawned and went to sleep. He stirred when he felt their hand reach down to scratch the ruff of his neck, or pat the glass dome that held his brain.
"Good dog," the courier said, through the veil of sleep. "You remind me of another pup that used to follow me around."
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realcube · 3 years
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comfort with the haikyuu!! boys hcs 💝
characters: kenma, bokuto, ushijima, tsukishima, akaashi
thanks to anon for the request (ノ◕ヮ◕)ノ*:・゚✧
ALL AGED UP! (no mature themes though) (i just like the post-timeskip domestic dynamics)
tw// hurt! reader, swearing, mentions of death, fluff, angst if you squint
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Kenma Kuzome
bb has cat senses so he can tell when you’re sad
he can also tell bc you do the exact same thing he does when he’s sad, which is cuddle underneath blankets in bed, play animal crossing and blare lo-fi music to conceal your faint sobs
so when he walks into your shared room and notices you wrapped up in blankets on the bed, he does his best to suppress a snicker whicH HE FEELS SO BAD FOR HAVING IN THE FIRST PLACE
like he knows you’re sad but a part of his mind is just like ‘heh, (y/n) burrito.’ like you just look sO FKN CUTE!!
anyway, the first thing he always does when you’re down is approach you on the bed, sneak under the blankets and join to you to become a (y/n) & kenma burrito 
also, he might turn the speaker off depending on how loud the music is lol but if it’s at an okay volume then he’ll just leave it on and vibe with you for a bit as he desperately wracks his brain, trying to come up with something reassuring to say 
you usually comes up with the something basic like, ‘what’s wrong?’ but i mean, you don’t really mind - at least he’s making an effort and you know it must be difficult for him to think of things to say lol
depending on how sad you are, you might just tell him straight-up what happened or you might text him bc you don’t think you’ll be able to choke out an answer without bursting into tears again
then he’ll ask you if you want to be alone and act accordingly 
assuming that you say ‘no’ bc you want his presence, he’ll just recollect on the last time you comforted him while he was down and mimic it tbh
..you always comfort him so well 🥺 and whenever you console him, he always feels so much better so he just thought that maybe if he imitates you, then it’ll work just as well
so he started off by resting his head on your shoulder and whispering kind things in your ear just like you did to him, ‘you know i love you, right?’ , ‘i hope you feel better soon’, ‘do you want me to bring you some food?’
he’ll seriously do everything in his power to make sure that you’re as comfortable as possible 
and he’ll stay as a (y/n) & kenma burrito until you feel better or until the sun rises  ( *^-^)ρ(*╯^╰)
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Kōtarō Bokuto
i’ve said this before and i’ll say it again - he’s such an empath and so overdramatic
so when he comes home from work and you don’t run up to the door to give him hugs & kisses- he’s about to burst into tears himself
so he sulks up to your room now IMAGINE HOW SHOCKED HE IS WHEN HE WALKS IN TO SEE YOU CRYING UNDER THE BLANKETS
emo-mode engaged :(
his hair deflates as he pounces on you and wails, ‘(Y/N)! WHY ARE YOU CRYING?! ARE YOU OKAY?! WHO HURT YOU?!’ (ಥ _ ಥ)
and the bitch dives on you while you are under the blanket, essentially scaring and suffocating you 
‘bokuto, get off me!’ you shrieked, wriggling out of his grip and out from under the blanket
 when he notices you had escaped the blanket with tear-stained cheeks, he felt even worse 
he threw himself into your arms, howling, ‘(Y/N)!! I AM SO SORRY!’
at this point all the blood had rushed to your head and you had kinda forgotten that you were sad for a moment or two
‘bo! you should know you’re own strength by now.’ you muttered, rubbing the underneaths off your puffy eyes
‘I KNOW!’ he wailed once more, burying his face into the crook of your neck
you sighed while rubbing his back, unable to supress a slight giggle, ‘bokuto..’ 
there was ages of silence between the two of you before he pulled away to look you in the eyes and asked, ‘(y/n), why were you crying before i got here?’
you’d explain the issue to him and he’d do everything in his power to solve it because the way he sees it, why should he try console you when he can just fix the variable that’s making you sad in the first place?
like, if you were just fired from your job, he’ll go full karen and he will call corporate to demand for your job back if you don’t stop him
or if your loved one died, he’ll become a fkn medium or study resurrection
or if you’re just stressed from exams/tests, he’ll just be like ‘why do you need to go to uni anyway?’
‘so i can get a qualification.’
‘why do you need that?’
‘so i can apply for a job.’
‘why do you need a job?’
‘so i can make money, so i don’t starve.’
‘you can have my money!’
you couldn’t help but chuckle at how much life-experience bokuto had, yet he will still so naïve; honestly, you couldn’t even tell if he was joking or not. ‘what if we break up?-”
“DON’T SAY THAT!” he gasped, instinctively tightening his grip on you
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Wakatoshi Ushijima
both you and ushijima’s pride did not allow y’all to cry in front of one another 
if you ever had to cry, you’d just run to the bathroom, lock the door, turn on the tap to drown out the sound of your sobs and just let it all out
and if he ever had to cry, he’d just do it in the shower
but like- you both knew when the other one had been crying because of their puffy, damp eyes but you both mutually agreed to not mention it
i mean, up until now y’all had both been able to flourish in the relationship while dealing with emotions on your own so why bother changing?
and if anything, you both felt more comfortable crying to yourselves
 that was, until today
you had cracked under the pressure of your job - you were simply sitting at your desk in the study room, doing some work then it all just came crashing down
ushijima had just stepped out of the shower in his towel and was currently wandering around the house in search of you, to inform you that he ran out of shampoo so it would be greatly appreciated if you were to add it to the shopping list 
but when he entered the study to see you sitting there by your computer, bawling you eyes out..he froze
like he had to do a whole double-take bc he wasn’t sure if he was seeing this correctly
your face was buried in your hands so you didn’t notice him at first but then you heard him awkwardly clear his throat from the doorway and your neck immediately jerked to look at him
it was quite embarrassing for the both of you, ngl
like he was standing there half-naked, staring into your red eyes in hopes that what he saw was just a hallucination
after what felt like hours of deafening silence, ushijima broke it by muttering under his breath, ‘uh, is everything okay?’
‘everything is fine, toshi.’ you replied, forcing a bright smile onto your face as you went back to typing, ‘did you come down here to tell me somethi--’
‘i can tell that there is something wrong.’ he stated, walking towards you while using one had to hold his towel in place and draping the other over your shoulders to pull you into his chest. ‘do you want to tell me?’
you let out a long sigh, resting your cheek against his chest while still staring at the many tabs you had open on your desktop 
but ushijima quickly fixed that by taking your chin in-between his thumb and index finger, then turning your face to look up at him, 
‘work?’ he hummed his assumption
‘yeah.’ you mumbled, quite surprised at how understanding he was being
but then again, ushijima obviously knows what it feels like to be overworked and burnt out too, so he was able to provide a lot of empathy in that sense
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Kei Tsukishima
ok a bit of tsukki slander but i feel like tsukishima would make it worse WEILUBRGBE
wait no well, he doesn’t make it worse but he doesn’t make it better either
like he’ll walk into the living room and see you curled up under a blanket on the couch, lightly sobbing from underneath- and he honestly doesn’t know how to act
this is the first time he’s seen you cry bc usually y’all keep your emotions to yourselves - you’re both v independent like that ( ̄︶ ̄)
anyway, mans thinks he can just tease the sadness out of you 🙄
‘awh, is my little couch goblin feeling sad?’ he said shakily, clearly intimidated by your figure lying on the couch, and you could tell he was nervous per his use of the nickname ‘couch goblin’
‘‘TSUKISHIMA, FUCK OFF!’ you barked, hastily wiping away your tears and clinging to blanket to prevent him from pulling it away, as the last thing you wanted him to see was your weary figure just so he could tease you about it 
‘bitch, i live here.’ he hissed, rubbing the back of his neck - feeling rather conflicted
on one hand, you seemed serious when you asked him to leave; plus, the last thing he wanted to do was make you feel uncomfortable by staying when you’re already sad
but on the other hand, he genuinely wanted to help
he’d feel bad if he were to just leave his s/o in tears when he could’ve done something to make you feel better 
‘do you really want me to go?’ he asked and for a change, not a hint of mockery or sarcasm was found in his voice
there were several moments of silence until you mumbled from under your blanket, ‘no.’ then proceeded to lift up your arm to allow him to crawl under the blanket and join you
he did so, pulling you against his chest so you could sob lightly against his cotton shirt while being engulfed by warm darkness
‘what could’ve possibly went wrong to make the evilest blanket demon cry?’
‘evilest blanket demon’ - that was definitely a new one, and you’d be lying if you said a small snicker didn’t escape your mouth at how monotonously he was able to deliver such a unique nickname
and after years of being in a relationship with tsukki, you’ve learned to find comfort in these nicknames considering they were a big part of how he expressed love 
in his vocabulary, ‘you’re so annoying.’ is equal to ‘i love you’
so him calling you an ‘evil blanket demon’ was, in his eyes, the highest and most sincere form of flattery
you eventually tell him what happened that made you sad and he just listens 
feel free to ramble on about anything/everything that’s worried you for the last few months bc he’s all ears 
he figured that other than make you dinner and hug you, that was the best thing he could do to help bc he was far from a romantic who’s good with words 
if he tries to console you verbally it would probably come out like ‘uh, don’t cry - i understand what you’re going through, i think, but like- cry if you want. this must be tough for you, to be honest.’
so he just listens to what you have to say and occasionally inputs a lil’ ‘mhm’ or ‘yeah’
he’s probably the most patient with you so you could stay sad on the couch for the next few weeks, as long as you’re eating the meals he delivers to you and you’re staying healthy, he’ll just let you mope until you feel better tbh
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Keiji Akaashi
boyfie material right here
i’m hardly an akaashi simp but he’s probably the best at comforting you while you’re sad tbh
because he’s literally been dealing with bokuto and his emo-mode for god-knows how long so he’s very good with reassuring people😌
also, i just know that this man can detect emotions so well- evEN THROUGH TEXT ISTG
he’d text you the usual ‘goodnight ❤’
and you’ll quickly wipe away your tears that were blurring your vision to reply ‘goodnight 💕’ 
then he’ll deadass text back like ‘i’m coming over. what’s wrong?’
HE JUST KNOWS!! don’t question it bc he doesn’t even have a logical answer lol
anyway, he’ll arrive and immediately begin with the reassurance before you even tell him what’s wrong 
‘you’re coping so well, (y/n).’
‘i’m so proud and i love you so much.’
‘is there anything i can do to make you feel better?’
‘would you like a hug?’
‘you’re beautiful, (y/n). i hope you know that.’
‘do you want me to get you ice-cream?’
a king- 👑
also, you weren’t embarrassed to cry in front of him either bc you had seen him cry before 
plus, y’all both established at the very beginning of the relationship that you’d both try be as honest and open with your emotions as possible
so now, you were both sitting beside each other on your bed while sharing a banana split that akaashi made (you put the sprinkles on though so you basically gave it flavour ✨)
akaashi is definitely the therapist friend to so he gives great advice 
but if you don’t want his advice and you’d prefer him to just listen, then he can do that too 
honestly, he’d do basically anything to make you feel better 🥺
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