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nessinborderland · 3 years

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Ampallang

Pairing: Niragi x Reader

Genre: smut, fluff

Word Count: 1.5k

Summary: Your boyfriend has been distant. The real reason as to why might surprise you.

Warnings: Niragi has a dick piercing, you’re both dramatic af, miscommunication, oral sex (f receiving), vaginal sex

Notes: Anonymous asks: Can you write a steamy smut of Niragi and the reader, where Niragi got some new piercings to show off. (You can do any piercings but I would recommend dick or nipple piercings maybe both?) Here it is! So yeah, I had to make it somewhat realistic since piercings are a pain to heal and can infect so easily. Also, ampallang is the specific name of Niragi’s piercing :) <3 Enjoy!

Masterlist

“Okay, I can’t take this any longer, what’s going on?” you ask your boyfriend of six months, “We haven’t had sex in weeks and you barely let me touch you. Am I the problem? Are you... not attracted to me anymore?” you ask in a quavering tone. This question has been in your head for weeks, but you were always afraid to ask him. Unfortunately for him, after some beers, you’re more than ready to confront him, “Are you cheating on me?...”

“What?!” Niragi exclaims, looking at you with wide eyes, “No, baby, no it’s nothing like that. I would never do that to you!” he sounds offended but – more than that – he sounds genuine. You don’t know what to believe; why would he – a man that could barely keep his hands to himself while in your presence – be avoiding you all of a sudden?

“Oh my god…” your eyes fill with tears at the next possibility that goes through your mind, “Are you sick?” that’s it; he’s dying.

“Y/N, listen to me–”

“Am I sick?!” what if he knows something that you don’t? What if he has been avoiding touching you because he knows that you’re the one dying? “Please tell me that–”

“I got a dick piercing!” he blurts out aloud, hands on your shoulders as he shakes you slightly. There’s a moment where you just stay frozen, staring into each other’s eyes. That was it? He has been avoiding you, not touching you, canceling dates with you because he got a damn dick piercing?

Unbelievable.

Your first reaction is to laugh, tears streaming down your face as you cackle and almost fall down the sofa you’re in. You hear him mumble something you don’t understand, muffled by your hysterical laugh. All this time you thought he didn’t want you anymore, that there was something wrong with you, but he just went the extra mile to conceal the fact that he had a dick piercing?

You could actually kill him.

“You are such a drama queen!” you exclaim after your laughter subsided a bit. You look at him to see him red as a tomato, face half-hidden by his hand as he sends you a glare.

“You’re one to talk,” he mumbles, before shrugging and casting his eyes down, “I don’t know what’s so fucking funny, anyway...” Watching him so angry and embarrassed makes you stop laughing altogether.

“I wasn’t laughing at you, dummy, I was laughing at your dramatic ass,” you get closer to him, taking his hands in yours, “You could’ve just told me you did it and I would be okay with it. But hiding it from me and making me think the worst? Not cool, dude.”

“I wanted to surprise you…” he says, hiding his face against your neck.

“Well, consider me surprised,” you chuckle as you pass your fingers through his raven hair.

“To be honest, I wasn’t expecting this to take so long to heal,” he continues, relaxing under your touch, “Even getting hard hurts. That’s why I was avoiding being with you, I always get hard just by looking at your fine ass,” his hand lightly pinches your thigh near your bottom, making you giggle, “I should’ve told you, though. Sorry, kitten.”

“It’s alright.” you kiss his forehead and put your arms around him, pulling him into a hug. You stay like that for some time, until you can’t avoid the urge to ask; you got to know.

“So…” you start, “How bad was it? Did you cry?” he huffs against your neck at your words, shaking his head.

“No, but it hurt like a motherfucker,” he says. In other words, yes, he cried, “I regretted doing it as soon as it was done. It got worse, though. When I said I was with the flu last month, I was actually home making sure my dick didn’t fall off.”

You chuckle, shaking your head at this sequence of events. You could’ve been there for him and – most importantly – you wouldn’t be worrying yourself sick. But that’s in the past now.

“Hmm...can I see?” you ask. You’re really curious to see your boyfriend’s new piercing. You always found the ones in his face hot, but you don’t really know what to expect right now.

“I might actually explode if you do so much as look at my dick,” he says in a low tone, “I miss fucking this tight pussy of yours.”

You let out a surprised gasp when his hand cups your sex, hips bucking against his palm in response. You missed his touch so much. And that’s why you throw yourself on his lap, capturing his lips in a passionate kiss. He responds immediately, tongue pushing inside your mouth and teeth nibbling at your bottom lip like he wants to swallow you whole.

“Suguru, please…” you beg as he starts kissing down your neck, “Please fuck me, please-”

“Lay back, kitten,” you do as he says, reclining against the arm of the couch as he starts taking off your shorts and panties. You’re soon bare from the waist down, legs open as your boyfriend sets in between them, looking at your cunt like it’s the first time. It almost feels like it, after a month without doing anything but kissing.

“Fuck,” he growls, sending a shiver down your spine, “I’m gonna eat your pussy until your legs are shaking and you’re begging me to stop.”

You whimper as his lips latch onto your clit, sucking and licking it like a starved man. And he is, as much as you are. You moan freely, together with the sounds of Niragi eating you out, hands pulling his hair as you move your hips against his face. It feels so good, to finally have his hands on you.

He fucks you with his tongue and fingers until you're a moaning mess, legs shaking and dripping cunt clenching around nothing like he promised you. But you want more, much more. And so does he.

"Fuck…" he stops for a moment after you come the first time, grinding on the couch with a pained expression, "Fuck this," he says to himself, "Gonna fuck you with my cock anyway."

"Are you sure?" you ask in between panting breaths, watching him as he strips down completely. You notice something shining on his chest, and you smile, "Oh, that one is new too..."

"Yeah, do you like it?" his smile widens when you nod, still looking at his silver nipple piercing. When you finally see his member, though, that's when your smile falls and your mouth waters.

It looks so pretty.

He's hard as a rock, and the piercing on the head of his cock glints strongly in contrast with the color of his skin. Is hot as fuck, and you feel yourself growing wetter at the prospect of finally having him inside you like that.

“I did this one especially for you,” he says as he kisses you, “It’s supposed to make you feel good.”

"Put it inside me…" you beg as you open your legs wider for him. He almost trembles with excitement as he retrieves a condom from his pants on the floor, before carefully putting it on and lining himself up with your waiting cunt.

When he finally gets inside you, you swear you can feel the metal of his cock touching your velvety walls. It feels so good it makes you want to come right then.

"Fuck," he says as he starts slowly moving in and out of you, "You feel so fucking tight it hurts."

You kiss as he starts going faster, legs raised over his shoulders as the wet sounds of sex echo in the room. He always made you feel full, the head of his cock always hitting the right spot to make you come over and over with barely any clit stimulation, but this? This damn new piercing, grazing your walls at every firm thrust? Even better.

"Fuck, it hurts," he hisses as he sucks on a nipple, teeth lightly grazing the sensitive bud as you clench around him like you want to trap him inside you, "Fuck, shit, don't stop hugging my cock like that. Keep going, kitten."

You come at his words – whole body shaking as he keeps fucking you through your orgasm – and do as he says, too fucked out of your mind to do anything else but that.

He comes with a shudder and a guttural moan not long after, slowly getting out of you and discarding his condom, before laying on top of you, head in-between your breasts.

You stay like that while you regain your breath, finally satiated after such a long time without each other.

"So…" your boyfriend starts, "Did you like it?"

"Very much so," you say with a smirk that doesn't go unnoticed, "But I'm gonna need some more testing to be sure."

"You can do whatever you want with it, kitten," he kisses you, long and slow, "After it stops hurting like a bitch, though."

#alice in borderland #ima wa no kuni no alice #Niragi Suguru #niragi x reader #niragi smut #aib fanfic #alice in borderland fanfic #submission #anon

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enhypensimp1 · 3 years

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Raw nsfw

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

↝ Jay x Reader

↝ warnings: unprotected sex, explicit language

↝ nearly 2.1k

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

You were cuddled up against Jay, sat comfortably on his lap while a movie played in front of you. The boys had been practicing nonstop all week, so you decided to organise a cute movie night for all of them going out to buy food and snacks while waiting for them to come back. The sofa was too small for everyone, so you gladly took a seat on your boyfriend, Jay, and Sunoo and Niki were stuck clinging to each other on the floor under a mound of blankets, you were surprised their eyes were still in their sockets from how immersed they were in the movie. You found them adorable, they were like yours and jay’s kids.

After half an hour of the movie boredom took over you. This definitely wasn’t the most interesting movie you had ever watched but you didn’t want to disturb the other boys around the living room. You looked up at Jay, removing your head from his chest where it was previously resting to admire his features from the angle below. You honestly had no idea how you could get so lucky having the most amazing boyfriend ever and gaining six wonderful friends along with him.

“Stop staring at me creep” he grinned down at you pressing a light kiss to your forehead. You grabbed his chin and pulled him down to meet your lips, lingering slightly longer than you intended. Your cheeks flushed when you tried to move away, and he snaked a hand behind your head to deepen the kiss. For a second you forgot you were still surrounded by the members, but your little moment was cut short when a pillow was thrown at both of you.

“you guys are so gross” “get a room” everyone started shouting when they realised what you and Jay were up to, you couldn’t help but laugh at their reactions.

No matter how much you tried to focus on the movie you were so bored and the feeling of Jay underneath you was making your mind go places it shouldn’t considering you were in a room with his whole group. You decided to play a little harmless game, one you like to call how far can Jay be teased until he punishes you. Shifting a little in his lap, you grounded your ass down onto his crotch, making his hands grip your hips tightly, warning you to stop. “What do you think you’re doing?” he whispered in your ear. You cocked your head to the side, the most innocent look plastered on your face, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” You kept shifting on him, purposefully applying pressure each time onto his growing boner until he couldn’t help but let out a low groan. You were lucky the blanket covered all of your movements because you couldn’t help but gasp when you felt Jays hand travel up your thigh.

He moved your hair from one side of your neck to other and uttered “in two minutes you’re going to say you need the bathroom and go to the bedroom to wait for me, and you’re going to do it because you don’t want to know what will happen if you don’t.” A shiver went down your spine, mind clouded with thought of all the different things he could do to you if he didn’t obey what he said.

So logically, two minutes later you excused yourself from the room and made your way to the bedroom, knowing you were already in for a punishment and not wanting to risk any more. Jay followed shortly after, not even giving you enough time to close the door behind you before he had you pressed up against the wall trapping you between his arms.

"Did you think you could get away with your little game" he deepend his voice, trailing a finger across your jawline. You stayed silent, the brat in you and the obedient angel inside you fighting to come up with a response.

"Don't make me force an answer out of you" he breathed down your neck, the tone of his voice alone making you weak in the knees. "N-no I'm sorry" you bit your lip meeting his gaze. "Now that's what I thought."

He attached his lips to yours in a heated kiss, pressing up further against you into the wall. He held your thigh against his hip while you snaked your arms around his neck pulling him deeper. You hadn't felt him this riled up in a while and it was exhilarating. He sucked on your lower lip slightly, eliciting a moan out of you and using the opportunity to slide his tongue in. Your mind was in a state of complete emptiness focusing solely on the feeling of his hand making it's way under your shirt, leaving a fiery trail on every part of you he touched. He reached down trailing kisses on your neck while he let go of your thigh, moving his hand to touch your already soaked panties, a soft sigh leaving your lips from the pleasure.

He walked away for a second to get a condom, rummaging through his drawers. “Fuck I ran out” he sighed running a hand through his hair looking at you with desperation. You walked up to him with a sly smile looking straight into his eyes “Jay I’m on the pill.” He raised an eyebrow looking down at you. “Look at my smart girl” he grinned and not a second later he had you lifted around his waist walking towards the bed.

Things picked up right where you left off, you pulling his shirt off him while he discarded of your pants desperate for each other. He trailed kisses between your chest, slowly removing your underwear, sliding a finger between your folds, a soft moan leaving your lips.

“You have to be quiet baby the boys are down the hall.”

“Then stop teasing me-” you felt his finger enter you just as you said that, whining at how fast he was going. He placed his mouth on yours kissing you deeply trying to prevent you from making any loud noises as he added another finger, curling it inside you. Soon enough you felt a tight ball form in your stomach slowly coming undone beneath him. He noticed you were close from the way you uncontrollably clenched around his fingers. He removed them, the feeling in your stomach disappearing and you let out a frustrated whine glaring at him and his stupid satisfied smile.

“That’s for thinking you could get away with teasing me in front of my members.”

He began to unbuckle his belt as you watched him with anticipation. His member was so constricted in his pants you almost wondered if he was in pain. The thought of entering you raw excited him to no end, imagining what it would feel like to properly feel every single part of you and every single way your body reacted to him. Precum already leaked from his tip, his head filled with the dirtiest of thoughts as he aligned himself with your entrance slowly pushing his head in, a soft moan leaving your lips as you reveled in the feeling of him stretching you out.

He pushed further and further watching the way he disappeared into you until he bottomed out, “fuck how are you so tight” he practically cried out realising how hard it was going to be to stay quiet knowing his members were just down the hall. You nodded at him telling him to move and he couldn’t contain himself, pulling all the way out just snap his hips back into your, loving the way he can feel the wetness surrounding him and how your velvety walls encased his throbbing dick. You let out a loud moan at the feeling, his hand quickly flying to cover your mouth, keeping it there while he thrusted in you.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper inside you, biting down on his hand when you felt his dick brush the edge of your cervix at how deep he was inside of you. Jay leaned down burying his head in your neck lightly biting down on your shoulder to prevent himself from losing control and letting everyone in the building know how good your pussy was and just how well he was fucking you. You guys really picked the worst possible day to go raw for the first time, wanting nothing more than to scream Jays name, the hand placed firmly on your mouth hindering you from making any noise.

You knew neither of you were going to last as long as you usually do already feeling yourself clench around him, the tight ball reforming in your stomach, every vein and twitch his member made was so prominent it made you go crazy. Him being buried in your warmth made his cock pulse, lifting your leg to get a new angle, trying to chase both of your releases. The new position made him hit your clit with every thrust going deeper than you thought was even possible hitting a certain spot inside you that made you simply see stars. You couldn’t help it, after being quiet for so long you needed some kind of relief moaning “ah… fuck Jay” slightly louder than you intended, biting your lip to hold back from saying any more. He also became more vocal fucking you into the mattress addicted to the feeling of him inside you.

He pulled you into his chest feeling your legs begin to shake signaling that you were almost there as he picked up the pace letting out low groans in your ear only for you to hear. “You’re so good to me” he whispered, and that was all you needed to be sent over the edge, nails digging into his back as you let out small cry of relief into his shoulder while he chased his own high. You clenched particularly hard making him hiss, his hips sputtering into your painting your walls white with his cum as he stilled in you. You brought his face to yours kissing him passionately to try and drown out the moans that were leaving his lips.

You felt every stream of cum filling you up beautifully, unable to stop clenching around him at the feeling. He laid you back down slowly pulling out of you, making you squirm as the cold air began to hit you. Jay went to his bathroom for a moment coming back with a wet towel to clean you up and a can of air freshener to try and get rid of the smell of sex that filled the room, erasing any evidence of your activities in case the members came in later.

"We should do that more often".

You laughed at him pressing an innocent kiss to his cheek before whispering “I love you” into his neck. A playful smile took over his face, his demeanor much different to how he was a few minutes ago, drawing little circles on your arm.

“Now are you glad I distracted you from the movie?”

“That’s a tough one I really liked that movie”.

You hit his chest while he laughed at you. Soon the tiredness caught up to so you snuggled closer to him, his chin resting on your head as the sound of his heartbeat lulled you to sleep. He softly caressed your face moving the strands of hair that were covering your eyes before pressing a kiss to your head and following you in dreamland.

A few minutes later the movie ended, and the members piled into the room gagging at the sight of Jay being absolutely whipped for you.

“They’re disgusting” Sunoo scrunched his nose at the two of you.

“Yeah, but I guess they’re kind of cute” Jake smiled at how the older was clinging to you.

Heeseung already planned a million ways to tease Jay the next morning having heard a lot of what happened, but for now, he ushered everyone out of his room telling them to go to sleep.

#jay smut #jay x reader #jay enhypen #enhypen #enhypen blog #suggestive #kpop imagines #kpop smut #kpop blog #smut #enhypen smut #park jongseong #jongseong imagines

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echo-of-sounds · 3 years

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daddy dom

Headcanons on the types of Daddy Dom Aizawa, Gang Orca, and Hound Dog are.

I was going to include all six guys in this but it got so much longer than I initially planned. Toshi, Hizashi, and Fatgum are coming tomorrow!

Warnings: Daddy Dom relationship, (the rest is only mentioned, there’s no real detail) punishments, choking, slapping, spanking, spitting, hair pulling, and rough sex

Aizawa Shouta

Shouta had an inkling he was interested in dominance when he started having sex. The Daddy Dom surfaced after a one-night stand happened to moan ‘Daddy.’ He enjoyed it, looked into the subject deeper, and realized that’s exactly what he wanted, needed. However, he hasn’t had a relationship where he’s felt comfortable enough or been in one long enough to practice it.

As your relationship develops, it is something he brings up because he isn’t shy about it. He wants to be your Daddy. He wants to be his girl’s protector and her anchor. He praises you when you’re doing well. He says how proud he is. He loves and cuddles you on your bad days. When you’re crying and scared, he’s right beside you, huddling you to his chest, protecting you from whatever you fear.

Pet names are a rarity. On the odd occasion a good girl slips out, it’s a telltale sign he’s in a highly dominant mood. You’re expected to listen, do what you’re told, and say, ‘please and thank you.’ To make you feel fluttery and happy, he’ll call himself Daddy as he’s helping you.

Kitten is even more limited. He uses it when you dress up in the pink lingerie he bought you. It has a little collar with a bell, a cat-eared headband, garter bands, and cute, frilly panties and bra. There’s also a cat tail butt plug you can play with. But there’s a catch- there’s depreciation. If you use it too much, he isn’t as excited and it’s clear to see. You need to keep the lingerie away until you’re in dire need of your Daddy and a good fucking.

He takes pride and joy in seeing your smile at a new, fancy bracelet or an adorable teddy bear. But he’s uncertain when buying. He knows what you like, yet he just can’t decide on which dress you’d prefer. Despite his self-doubts, his presents are usually excellent, especially any soft, thigh-high stockings or cute, striped panties he brings home.

Though you won’t ever be able to tell, sometimes it is hard for Shouta to discipline you. He enjoys your bratty moods and how you ignore his commands to sit still. Your whimpers and whines and facial expression are incredibly cute. But at the end of the day, he is your Daddy and it’s his responsibility to keep you on track and provide stability. His go-to punishment is no orgasming… for a long time. You can’t touch yourself or grind on a pillow. If you beg, it’ll only extend the punishment. Occasionally, spanking is also used, particularly when you’re riding him and not listening.

Highly dominant doesn’t always mean rough. Yes, he is that most of the time. But he has periodic moods where he won’t use discipline. It’s when he’s in a coddling mood. Daddy becomes gentle, erotic, intent, and intimate. Don’t hold back your moans. Please, whine and whimper and fuss and mewl. Your soft cries and little wriggles please him so.

When he is rough, you’ll be leaving red streaks down his back. He loves seeing them in the mirror the next morning, so he strives to get you that aroused and pleasured every time. And nothing is truly off the books for him. Whatever you wish, he’ll command: slapping, spanking, choking, hair pulling, and spitting.

Shouta is more of a nonverbal Daddy. Both of you know he’s dominant and it’s your job to behave, so he doesn’t feel the need to command you as much as others may. He just yanks your body around as he pleases, slaps and chokes you when you don’t listen or get off-topic, and spits on your tongue to get you to quiet down. Now that doesn’t mean he won’t talk. At your misdoings, his steeled voice is gruff and guttural, commanding, punishing, and asking what you did wrong.

Daddy gets even more domineering when you cum without permission. That’s the one rule you should never break. If he’s feeling charitable (which is rarer than a blue moon), he’ll let you cum. Other times, he’s deepthroating you, cumming down your throat, and making you swallow it. And that’s all you’ll get. Again, don’t beg. That’ll worsen the punishment. All you can do is be a good girl and hope he lets you cum in the next few days.

Gang Orca

Kugo never considered himself a Daddy or any sort of dominant man in general. The few times he’s had sex, he was more on the submissive side, letting his partner lead and ride him as they wished. His fear of hurting his partner really held him back. However, the instant he hears you softly, weakly whine Daddy, gently pawing his chest, pining for him to make you feel good, the switch is flicked and there’s no going back.

Before he fully engages in the Daddy Dom relationship, he does a lot of reading and asks you question after question. If he ever hurt you or pushed past your limits, he’d all but die inside. You need to ease into it. Let him become accustomed to the power dynamics, the dirty talking, what’s expected from him, and the lifestyle.

In the beginning, he’s as sweet as can be. You’re his little one whom he loves to spoil. He buys you dainty panties, comfy sweaters, and dresses for every occasion. You should always model clothing for Daddy. He’ll appreciate your appreciation. As you turn around in a cute, lace nightgown, his fingers flow up your thighs, caressing between them, gently brushing along your new panties, making sure everything fits perfectly.

He gradually leans into the discipline aspect as the relationship grows. Once comfortable with himself and you, the punishments come frequently. They depend on the severity of your bad behavior. If you don't listen, you don’t get sweets. If you didn’t listen twice, you have extra chores to do. If you didn’t listen three times, no sexual gratification of any kind for however long Daddy deems necessary.

In spite of that, he is a weak Daddy when it comes to his little one. Your puppy-dog eyes burrow into his heart. Your wiggling thighs get him heated. Your little mewls for your Daddy’s attention haunt him. But he doesn’t give in all the time. He still has structure, stability, and dominance to uphold.

Kugo is truly a safe Daddy. He’s your secret place where your every thought, desire, emotion, and fear will always be heard, understood, and respected. Whatever you tell Daddy when you’re curled up on his chest, snuggled in his arms, stays with Daddy. He guides you through the crowded mall, nurses the cuts on your legs, acts as an anchor through depression and anxiety, and protects you from the rumbling thunder. And by God, is he protective.

Protectiveness is his main characteristic. He wants you to wear his T-shirt and sweatshirts. When he cums, he seats himself fully insides, letting him empty out completely. His hands rub your lower stomach like he’s feeling his property. Even as he falls flaccid, he stays inside. He needs to make sure everything has drained. If he could, he’d keep you filled with his seed forever.

Tender, slow sex involves you riding Daddy. He squeezes your thighs and tummy as you bounce. He praises every movement, every part, every itty-bitty sound. Your passion is so important to him. Seeing your body seek out its pleasure and rapture in the safety of your own little world fills his heart with love.

Dominant Daddy is less common yet so fulfilling. His thick, wet tongue washes deep. Fingers spread you wide. His erection spreads you further. You’ll be thrown on the bed, stuck under him for multiple beautiful orgasms. As you cum, moan ‘thank you’ again and again. Your gratitude encourages him. He’ll keep you moaning into the morning.

Hound Dog

The second Ryo entered that seriously horny stage of puberty, he knew his dominance. As he started having sex, it only flourished. He’s rough, fast, controlling, and one-hundred percent, hands down a brat tamer. Your whines and protests are cute, but he always wins. Hearing his rasping, growling voice is enough to get you to concede to his demands.

Aftercare and any delicate aspects will take time and learning on his part. He wants to be so gentle, caring, and sweet with you. His natural rough nature gets in the way. As any good Daddy is patient with his little girl, a good girl needs to be patient with him. And when he gets there, he gets there. You’ll be swaddled in a warm blanket, given candy and drinks, and your favorite bed-time Tv will play while you wind down. His warm, smooth tongue laps over bruises and scratches.

There’s one big thing about this Daddy: God, he just loves to watch you suck: him (specifically his foreskin), his fingers, your fingers, a lollipop, a pacifier, whatever. Lay on his chest, wrapped in a blanket, and nurse on a binkie as you fall asleep. The most common way sex starts is with a blowjob. It commonly ends that way as well. He either makes you finish him with no pleasure for you or, after you’re finished, he lays you down and deepthroats you.

Right off the bat, punishments are a main part. There’s a written list on the fridge you must obey. Though he doesn’t spank. You might act up just to get spanked, and he won’t have that. The discipline always matches the offense. Are you back talking? You’re eating something you don’t like. Is your temper too hot? You’re taking an ice-cold shower for five minutes. Are you ignoring him? Daddy’s going to rile you up then leave you hanging and whining, showing you what it’s like to be neglected.

After the punishment is complete, Ryo transitions right into aftercare. Daddy loves you enough to punish you. That love is strengthened after by his licks and kisses. Besides, Daddies who don’t show their little girl compassion and care afterward, aren’t good Daddies. He loves and respects you and wants you to know, see, and feel that.

And the punishments never push past your boundaries. You’re never put in danger. In any way. The safe word is always available. He won’t give you food you truly can’t handle for whatever reason. He’s right beside you as you shower just in case something goes wrong. The moment the water’s shut off, you’re immediately swathed in a cozy towel.

During one of his more… inflamed moods, you’re fastened in a collar. It’s pink with little flowers. The heart decoration on the front is a padlock. Only he has the key. It has ‘Daddy’s Girl’ inscribed on the back. It goes on as soon as you get home. And it stays on until you leave. There is a leash he’ll use if you aren’t behaving, holding, leading, and controlling all your movements.

There are times when he goes into (sort of) a heat. It could be a quirk side effect. It could just be him. Either way, you’re going to get completely dominated. Your hair will be pulled. Your throat will be choked and fucked. Your cheeks, both sets, will be red and raw. Scratch marks and dark bruises will stain your neck, legs, and back.

His favorite is any doggy-style position. It’s carnal and crude. Daddy has total authority since his weight bears down, caging you to the bed. Use your voice. Let him hear every gasp and cry. Beg for him. Plead for more. Pray for just one more orgasm as your hair’s tugged and clit’s smack sore. The harder you crave, the harder he thrusts.

Sweet sex is a rare time when he kisses and cuddles. Heat surrounds you. Muscled thighs and callused hands direct your weak, longing body. His tongue never leaves your mouth, licking over yours, causing drivel to drip down your chin. It may not be rough, but the sincerity and intimacy provide more than enough pleasure for an amazing orgasm. And Daddy passionately walks you through it.

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sweet-dreamins · 3 years

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i’m sorry, i missed you (s+f)

○ pairing: kei tsukishima x fem! reader, soft brat tamer kei x bratty reader (who regrets being bratty)

○ word count: 2.8k

○ summary: after a day of being bratty, tsukki finally puts you in your place

○ content: 18+, d/s dynamics, spanking, use of “Sir” as title, brat taming, light angst, crying but no dacryphilia, traffic light safe word system, fingering, unprotected sex (pls wear a condom lskdjk), a bit size kink, creampie, aftercare, happy end :)

○ a/n: this turned out way softer than i originally planned lol but soft tsukki is good tsukki 😌 hope you like it, feedback is greatly appreciated!!

Huffing, you cross your arms and pout, not meeting his gaze. Tsukki looks down at you with a light smirk, amused by your antics. You had been snippy with him since this morning, and at first, he brushed it off, mistakenly assuming you woke up on the wrong side of the bed. However, as the day went on, your remarks only grew more pointed and intentionally provocative.

“I can do this by myself, leave me alone!”

“Ugh, whatever, I don’t have to listen to you.”

“Be quiet, Tsukki, you’re so annoying!”

He was letting you get in as many jabs as possible, waiting to see if you would show any sign of remorse and apologize.

You did not.

He knew that you were just acting out because you wanted attention. Plain and simple. He had been pretty busy this week with volleyball practice and his job at the museum. But this was getting ridiculous. You needed to be put in your place. You also needed a little help in getting the truth out.

“It’s not like you’re going to do anything about it anyway, so it doesn’t matter.” You taunt him, mirroring his smirk. He hadn’t said or done anything to correct your behavior all day, so you figured you were going to get away with being bad. You thought if he was going to punish you it would’ve been hours ago after the tenth or fifteenth rude comment came out of your mouth. Before disappointment could settle in, he grabs your face, thumb and index finger digging into your cheeks, tilting your face up to meet his stare.

“You want to repeat that, little girl?”

Your eyes widened, heat rushing underneath your skin and in between your thighs. You bit the inside of your cheek, considering you had already dug yourself six feet deep. His smirk grows at your quiet submission before throwing you over his shoulder. You let out a yelp of surprise and he slaps your ass in response. You pout at the floor as he carries you to the bedroom, butterflies fluttering about in your stomach.

The world flips as he throws you onto the bed as if you weigh nothing. You bounce on the softness, your skirt flipping up. He can perfectly see the little wet spot on the center of your pink panties. His smile oozes self-satisfaction as he coos,

“Aww, how cute you’re already wet?”

You look down at your skirt and move to fix it, but he grabs both of your wrists with one hand. He flips your skirt all the way up and cups your clothed pussy. You try not to wiggle against his fingers, knowing that would land you in even more trouble.

“Don’t hide what is mine, understand?”

You swallow thickly and nod, your mouth going dry at the fierceness in his honey brown eyes. He slaps your inner thigh, eliciting a gasp from you. You fight the urge to glare at him, just pouting instead.

“No, you don’t get to be quiet now while you were running your mouth all day.” He looks at you expectantly for your proper reply.

“I understand, sir.” He gives you a small smile of praise, internally surprised at your wise choice.

He leans in closer and gives your cheek a few patronizing pats, “That’s more like it. Besides, I still haven’t decided if I’ll let you cum tonight.”

He lets go of your wrists and sits down next to you. You already know what you have to do. You quietly crawl over to him and lay yourself on his lap. You grab fistfuls of the sheets beneath you in anticipation. He interlocks his fingers and stretches them before rolling up his sleeves.

“You’re going to count every single spank and say thank you.”

“Yes, sir.”

One. Five. Nine. With every spank, you can feel yourself getting wetter. You want nothing more than for his hands to wander lower and sink into your pussy. As you count out loud, you run through everything you said to him today. Technically, you got his attention...but you could’ve gone about it in a much nicer way.

You know that you can be a lot to handle sometimes. On the one day this week you spent together, you were nasty to him. He was probably looking forward to spending the day with you, and all you gave him was attitude. You could’ve just told him you had missed him instead of being mean. What if you had said something that actually hurt him? Who’s saying that you hadn’t already gone too far? Maybe you should’ve just been good for him today.

“Twenty! Th-hank you si-ir.” You choke out the final number, trying to catch your breath. He gently massages reassuring circles on your stinging skin. He opens his mouth to ask you what your color is but you interrupt him with a sniffling,

“Ts-suki?”

He knows not to reprimand you for using the wrong name, the weepy tone in your voice giving away your headspace. He softly asks,

“What’s your color, baby?”

“Yellow,” your voice warbly and pitiful.

Kei easily scoops you up into a sitting position so you’re straddling his lap. Now he can see your glassy eyes and tear-stained cheeks. You hadn’t even realized you were crying until you went to wipe your face. Your bottom lip wobbles slightly as you try to hold back even more tears. Regret is swirling in your head, while your butt is burning, and your pussy is dripping. Your brain is struggling to comprehend this combination of sensations, turning your thoughts into a tangled mess.

“I’m so-orry I was so me-ean to you today,” you hiccup, rubbing at your tears with balled-up fists but they just don’t seem to stop coming.

“I’ve just been mi-issing you a lot, fuck, I missed y-you so much and I should’ve just to-old you that.” You choke these words out through gasping breaths. You want to let him know everything inside your head, but your body is not cooperating. He pulls down his sleeve, raising it to wipe away your tears.

“Take a deep breath, baby.” You stop trying to force words out of your mouth and slowly inhale, hoping it’ll calm your body. In and out, in and out, slow and soothing breaths, tears falling less and less frequently. Kei reaches for his water bottle and brings it to your mouth, controlling the pace of your drinking, knowing you might end up chugging it. He sets it down once you’ve had enough water and rubs your back. By now your breathing has evened out and new tears have finally stopped falling.

Kei presses a kiss to your forehead and mumbles against it,

“You learned your lesson, huh?”

You nod and hum a wobbly affirmation.

You feel him smile against your skin before he pulls away, looking into your eyes while holding your face with his hands.

“Okay. You gonna be good for me now?”

A beat of silence passes.

“I’m gonna try.”

He throws his head back in laughter and you giggle with him. Hooking his arms under you, he turns around and lays you down on the bed. He hovers above you and brushes the hair out of your face.

“What’s your color?”

After your punishment and crying session, you feel so much lighter, no longer weighed down by your rambling brain.

“Green.” You sniffle and give him a soft smile. He looks over your facial expression, making sure that you’re not lying to him. Once he’s satisfied, he drops to his forearms, caging you in, and kisses you.

Your heart soars as he kisses you desperately. It’s clear to you now that he missed you just as much, if not more. You happily let him take control of the kiss, relaxing into his hold. While he distracts you with his lips, he reaches down between the two of you and starts rubbing at your clit. You break the kiss with a small gasp, arching your back into him, wanting more. Kei grins at your reaction and reaches farther, spreading your lips and gathering slick with his fingers.

“Fuck, baby, you’re soaking, is this all because of me?”

You look up at him, and he swears he can see tiny hearts in your eyes where pupils should be.

“Yes, sir, all for you, only for you.” He kisses the tip of your nose as he slips two fingers into your pussy. Slowly thrusting in and out while rubbing your clit with his thumb. As the pleasure builds, you beg him not to stop, worried that your orgasm will be ripped away from you tonight.

But Kei isn’t a monster.

“Shh don’t worry, baby, I’m not going anywhere.” He continues thrusting and scissoring his fingers, stretching you out on his lithe fingers, preparing you for his cock. Pressing open-mouthed kisses to your neck, he sucks at the skin. He pulls away to admire you underneath him, marked up and already getting dumber by the second.

His original plan was to edge you for most of the night and ruin your orgasm anyway, but that depended on your post-spanking state. You were obviously regretful of your behavior and already slipping into that cloudy headspace. He doesn’t want to overwhelm you tonight, especially after you had cried your eyes out, so he’s determined to give you at least one good orgasm.

Instead of focusing on reaching your climax, you let yourself focus on how good he’s making you feel. Goosebumps rise all over your body and your head feels even dizzier than before. You let yourself melt into him.

Kei notices just how much you’ve relaxed and feels a pull at his heart. You trust him so much, trusting him to take care of you, your body, and your pleasure. He especially knows how hard vulnerability can be, and yet here you are. Happily giving yourself to him as if it’s second nature to you.

He kisses you again, this time more desperately, trying to get as much of you as possible. He licks your bottom lip and you open your mouth to let him in. His tongue traces over yours gently before sucking on your bottom lip as you whine in response. When he breaks away, a thin string of spit connects the two of you briefly. He reaches behind his neck, swiftly pulling his shirt off and then tugging off his pants.

You keep your eyes glued to his body as you frantically pull off your shirt and bra. How was he so pretty? All you want to feel is his skin against yours. As your gaze travels up his body, the two of you lock eyes to laugh at your frenzied pace.

He settles above you again, kissing you, placing his hands at your sides while gently tracing your skin with his thumbs. He reaches over to grab a condom, but you stop him. With wide eyes you say,

“I want to feel you cum inside, please?”

He lets out a groan and kisses you as an answer. He strokes his cock, smearing pre-cum down the length. Grinding against your pussy, he coats himself in your slick, the head of his cock bumping against your clit. He smirks down at you as little moans spill from your mouth.

All for him.

He lines himself up and looks at you, making sure that you’re ready to take him. You nod desperately, wanting to be completely stuffed. He slowly pushes into you as your mouth drops open. He stills once he’s fully inside, letting both of you get used to the feeling, already panting. Your warm walls hugging him so, so tight, and his cock making you feel so, so full. You stutter out,

“So full! Ah, ‘m so full. Your cock is so big, ‘su-sir!”

He grins at your praise and near slip up.

“Mhm? But you always take me so well, pretty baby.” He lightly presses down below your belly button, feeling and faintly seeing the outline of his cock inside of you. You cry out in pleasure, feeling every inch of him rubbing against your walls. He isn’t even moving and your pussy won’t stop clenching around him. He gives a shallow thrust, pulling a whine from you.

He keeps his pace slow, building in speed and force. Until he is repeatedly slamming into you, nearly pulling all the way out and then pushing deep inside of you, your cries getting louder and louder. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a kiss. The coil in your stomach getting tighter and tighter, your vision blurring a bit. Kei wraps his arm around your middle as you arch off the bed, deepening the kiss.

You whine against his lips,

“I-I’m getting close, so close, so close! I’m so close!”

“I know baby, let go for me.”

He reaches down with his other hand, still holding you close, to rub frenzied circles into your clit. You shut your eyes tight and your mouth drops open, only whines coming from the back of your throat. Soothing tingles of pleasure shoot throughout your body, your orgasm finally washing over you. You feel as if you’re floating, warmth taking over your body, inside and out. You can barely string together a coherent thought, but then you remember he hasn’t cum yet.

Your pussy still riding out your orgasm, clenches over and over around his cock. Kei nearly growls out,

“Fuck, baby, I’m close.”

All that’s bouncing around in your fuzzy mind is how badly you want Kei’s cum inside of you. You want it so, so bad, to be filled up with it, for him to paint your insides white, to feel his liquid heat. Your jumbled thoughts fall out of your mouth as you babble,

“Sir, please! Please, please, please, cum inside of me! I want y-you to fill me up, please fill me up with your cum!”

Your broken pleading pushes him over the edge as he shoots his cum inside you, giving one last thrust to nestle himself as deep as possible. You can hear him breathing hard next to your ear, shaky with scattered moans. You can feel his cum filling your pussy, leaking out onto your thighs, nearly throwing you into a second orgasm.

Kei has a brief internal debate if he should pull out or not. If he does, clean up might take a little longer….but then he’ll get to see his cum ooze out of you. He gently pulls out of you, spreading your thighs apart so he can get a proper look. Creamy white oozing out of silky pink walls, your chest heaving and eyes glassy.

Absolutely perfect.

Bonus:

After grabbing a warm towel and boxers, Kei lays down next to you, pulling you to his chest and wrapping his arms around you. You tangle your legs together and nuzzle into him, pressing a kiss over his heart. He’s glad that you can’t see the ridiculous blush on his face from your simple gesture.

You let out a sigh of contentment, knowing you’re safe in his strong arms.

“I love you, Kei.”

He kisses your temple and rests his chin on top of your head.

“I love you, too. You did wonderfully tonight. ”

A comfortable silence drapes itself around the two of you, like a warm blanket. But of course, Kei being Kei says a little too smugly for your liking,

“I missed you too, you know….I just didn’t need to act out and be a total brat over it.”

“Shut up,” you while with a bashful smile on your face, “I already said I was sorry.” You mumble into his chest with a pout, to which he proudly chuckles.

“I know, I know.”

“Hey, Tsukki?” He hums in response.

“Can we go take a shower now? I’m still kinda...sticky.”

“Fine, but you were the one who was practically begging me to cum inside you, to fill that little pussy up.”

Heat rushes to your face, the post-orgasm clarity arriving in full form, the obscenity of your pleading hitting you like a ton of bricks. You squeal in embarrassment, scolding him, and lightly slap his chest. He laughs and says,

“Yes, we can go take a shower now.”

You let out a rather pathetic cheer, but make no effort to get up.

“....Kei...can you carry me?”

He sighs with such weight, you’d think Zeus had just condemned him.

“If I must.”

He scoops his arms underneath you, picking you up bridal style. You call his name again and he looks at you with raised eyebrows.

“Can we take a bath instead?”

“Fine, I guess.” Rolling his eyes, once again acting exasperated.

He sets you down on the counter as he grabs towels and turns on the water.

“Oh, and can we do a bath bomb?”

He leans down to look at you, eyebrows quirked up as if to say ‘Really?’. You give him a big smile and the best puppy dog eyes you can muster.

“Pleeease?”

He gets even closer until your noses are touching, still giving you that smirk and golden eyes of mirth. You feel your cheeks heat at his closeness. He gives you a quick kiss, whispering against your lips,

“You’re lucky you’re cute, brat.”

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sisterspooky1013 · 3 years

Text

Only One Choice, Part 2, Chapter 23

Read it here on AO3 / Tagging @today-in-fic

It doesn’t feel real until she sees the flutter on the ultrasound, the grey and white pixels flashing erratically confirming a healthy ten-week pregnancy. The doctor gives them a due date of September 17th, and she explains to Mulder repeatedly that the due date is only an estimate, that the baby will most likely arrive sometime in the two weeks before or after that day. Nonetheless, he prints little numbers in the corner of each date on the calendar, counting down.

She is lucky to experience very little nausea, but the time saved clinging to the toilet is instead allocated to bursting into tears at every tiny inconvenience. Mulder comforts her with a confused expression when she cries because she can’t find a Tupperware lid that fits, or her latte has too much foam, or she realizes she can no longer see her toes. She cries because she’s crying, because she feels out of touch with her own body and thrown off by her own emotions. They marvel at the growth of her belly as well as her breasts, which are even more sensitive than they were before. Her libido kicks into overdrive at the same time that she becomes incredibly self conscious about her protruding belly, her fuller face, her swelling feet. This leads to more tears as she grapples with both wanting desperately to be touched and not wanting him to look at her.

He tells her each day how beautiful she is, her hair growing longer and thicker, her skin glowing, her rounding belly housing the perfect little life that they created together. When he’s home, he rubs her feet every night, fetches her countless glasses of water and then helps tow her out of the bed so she can pee ten times in the night. When he’s on the road with Monica, he calls three times a day, asks Missy and her mother to go by and check on her, calls in dinner to be delivered so she doesn't have to cook. As her due date nears, he stops going on out-of-town cases, needing to be close enough to be by her side immediately when she goes into labor. He will not risk missing the birth of his child.

The apartment becomes cramped with a bassinet, changing table, pack n play, and various other baby gadgets. They consider moving, but the idea is too overwhelming for Scully so they decide to stay put until the baby becomes mobile and they really need more space. Mulder breaks the lease on his apartment and moves his fish tank into the living room, putting the rest of his furniture in storage until they buy a house. Priscilla breaks in all the baby gear, sleeping in the car seat and jumping into the swing, covering the tiny onesies with her black fur and making Scully cry yet again. Mulder refuses to let her scoop the litter box, even though she insists it’s safe if she wears gloves and washes her hands afterward. Other tasks she’s forbidden to complete include cleaning the toilet, carrying in the groceries and hauling laundry to the washing machine. When he’s on the road, she misses him as much as she is relieved to be able to be independent, not much caring for being treated as though she’s made of glass.

For the majority of her pregnancy, Scully insists that she doesn’t want to know the sex of the baby, that she wants to be surprised. Mulder respects her decision, even though he would personally like to know, and they create two lists of potential baby names, Scully crossing off “Lisa Marie'' each time Mulder tries to add it to the “girl” column. When she reaches 39 weeks, her pelvis widening as the baby drops into the birth canal, she is so miserable that she has a change of heart, needing to feel connected to this thing that is destroying her body and stealing her sleep. They call the doctor together on a Thursday afternoon as Scully sits on the couch in tears, having woken that morning to find angry red stretch marks marring her previously lily-white belly. When Mulder relays the doctor’s message that the baby is a girl, she sobs harder, and he’s not sure whether it’s because she’s happy or disappointed.

She wakes him at 3:00 am on September 21st, the irregular Braxton-Hicks contractions she’s been feeling for weeks having taken up a predictable cadence, now ten minutes apart almost on the dot. He starts rushing around, scrambling for her hospital bag and his shoes, and now it is her turn to provide comfort, to let him know there’s plenty of time. She doesn’t want to go to the hospital until the contractions are five minutes apart, and so they wait. The progression to nine minutes, then eight, then seven is alarmingly fast, and by the time she agrees that they should head to the hospital she’s starting to feel pressure low in her pelvis. Mulder drives too fast, the streets thankfully still quiet in the early morning, and she is wheeled into labor and delivery with not enough time for an epidural, much to her lament.

Molly Katherine Mulder has blue eyes and a dark shock of nearly-black hair. She barely cries at her entrance to the world, instead searching the room with a curious gaze, squeezing her daddy’s finger with an impressively strong grip and latching like a pro. They are able to go home the following day, Scully wincing as she moves gingerly from the bed to the couch, rinsing her tender stitches with a bottle of warm water and bleeding through entire packages of overnight maxi pads in a day.

Mulder takes off work for two weeks and they spend blissful days curled up in bed with the baby nestled between them as Priscilla curiously sniffs around her, licking her hair with a rough tongue and making them laugh. Each time Scully wakes at night to nurse, Mulder insists she go back to sleep while he changes the baby and walks her around the quiet apartment until she is asleep, singing softly and lulling them both.

When Mulder returns to work, Scully insists that he get a full night's sleep and let her wake up with Molly, reasoning that she can take naps during the day. She does not, of course, take naps during the day. Instead she tries to keep the apartment clean, the clothes washed, the diapers taken out to the dumpster, the litter box scooped. She does too much, and he sees it each day as she grows more and more weary, more and more defeated, the bags under her eyes deepening in color and her mouth rarely hosting a smile. He begs her to let him do more, to ask less of herself, but she is stubborn and strong-willed, the very things he loves about her now keeping her from properly taking care of herself.

They struggle through sleep-deprived arguments over who left the breast milk out on the counter all night, why it matters if he changes the baby on the floor instead of the changing table, why Scully doesn’t want to supplement with formula so he can take some of the night feedings. Her doctor releases her as medically clear to have sex after six weeks and she cries as she tells him that she doesn’t feel ready, that she can’t imagine anything worse than sex right now, and he holds her as he tells her that he doesn’t care, that she should take as much time as she needs, that he can wait.

They struggle, and they thrive. Moments of absolute unadulterated joy are punctuated by intense despair and overwhelm. The gain of a family against the loss of a life where you could pick up and go, stay out until 2:00 am and make love in the middle of the day. They are happy, and they are stressed, and they face it together.

On a Saturday in December, Mulder wakes early and takes care of every conceivable task in the house; the laundry, the dishes, cleaning the bathroom, scooping the litter, buying the groceries. He checks every item off Scully’s to-do list and then takes Molly for a long drive, leaving Scully alone with nothing to do in hopes that she will rest for once. When they return from their excursion, he creeps into the quiet apartment with a sleeping baby in his arms and sets her in the bassinet by the couch. At first he thinks maybe Scully has gone out, but he finds her in bed asleep with soaking wet hair, Priscilla curled up behind her knees. He watches her for a bit, affection clutching at his chest, then changes into sweats and kicks Priscilla out so he can snuggle up behind Scully. It feels so infrequent that they just lay like this anymore; one of them is always about to get up with the baby, about to get ready for work, or doesn’t want to be touched after a tiny person has clung to them all day. He pulls in a deep breath, smelling her lavender bubble bath and feeling the rise and fall of her ribs against his chest. He doesn’t want to disturb her, but he can’t resist pressing a tiny kiss to the side of her neck.

“Mmmm,” she hums in response, twisting her body around so they are face to face.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you,” he whispers.

“It’s okay. Where’s Molly?”

“She’s asleep in the living room.”

She sighs and snuggles closer to him, pressing her forehead into his chest and pushing one of her legs between his.

“This feels nice,” she says contentedly, and he brushes his hand softly up and down her back.

“How are you feeling?” he asks.

“Tired. Frumpy. Like I haven’t put on real clothes or a stitch of makeup in three months,” she laments.

“Well, I’ll give you tired,” he says softly, “but I can’t agree on frumpy. I think you look very beautiful.”

She scoffs against his chest.

“You don’t have to placate me, Mulder. I know I’m a mess.”

“Maybe so, but you’re my mess,” he retorts, pushing his fingers into her hair to gently scratch her scalp.

She tilts her head up to look at him, appraising his face with a skeptical eye.

“Is this what you thought it was going to be like?” she asks, her tone open and vulnerable.

“I don’t know,” he answers honestly, “I guess I didn’t really know what to expect.”

She sighs. “I just wish I knew when I might start to feel like myself again,” she says sadly. “I can’t help but feel like you’re not getting what you signed up for.”

“What do you mean?” he asks with a concerned frown.

He sees her eyes growing glassy, dampening with impending tears. “I mean the woman you asked out in the autopsy bay isn’t the one you’re with now,” she whispers, swallowing against the lump in her throat.

“That’s not even a little bit true,” he implores, cradling the back of her head with his hand. “You are everything you were then, and more. I’m amazed by you every day.”

She closes her eyes, a tear rolling across the bridge of her nose. He feels his chest ache; the need to make her understand is overwhelming.

“Hey,” he says, pulling the blankets back, “come here.”

He pulls her into a sitting position and slides off the bed, towing her along with him to sit on the edge of the mattress. He kneels on the floor between her knees, his hands on her hips.

“If you think for one second that I want to be with anyone but you, you’re fucking insane. I don’t care if you wear giant milk-stained T-shirts and have spit up in your hair for the rest of our lives, Scully. You’re it for me, okay?”

She pulls in a shuddering breath and wipes at her eyes, but won’t look at him.

“Stay here,” he commands, and disappears into the bathroom for a moment. When he comes back, he returns to his post kneeling at her feet.

“We knew this was going to be hard,” he says tenderly, holding one of her hands in his. “You said it yourself before Molly was born, that it would be the hardest time in our lives, and that we’d be at our worst. And I’m telling you that if this is your worst, sign me up, okay? It hasn’t changed how I feel about you.”

He holds up his other hand, a diamond ring perched between his thumb and forefinger.

“If you’re not ready to say yes yet, that’s okay, but I need you to know that I still want to marry you, Scully. I’ll wait forever if that’s what you need, but there hasn’t been a single day since I asked that I haven’t still meant it.”

Her tears have stopped, though her eyes are still wet and the tip of her nose is red. She looks from him to the ring and back, her eyebrows stitched in contemplation.

“I didn’t hear you ask me a question,” she says quietly, and he picks up on the slightest lilt of playfulness in her voice, which makes him break out into a smile.

“Dana Katherine Scully, love of my life, mother of my child, will you marry me?”

She smiles then, and he thinks his heart may burst right out of his chest.

“Yes, I’ll marry you,” she answers, and he takes her left hand, slipping the ring on her finger.

She wraps her arms around his neck and kisses him repeatedly, soft pecks devolving into lingering smooches as he shifts up slightly, pushing her back gently to recline on the bed. He moves over her, kissing along her jaw and down her neck, not going any further, not wanting to rush her.

She brings her hands to his hips, letting the tips of her fingers slip under the waist of his sweatpants, and his cock stirs. It’s been so, so, long, and he wants her desperately, but not until she’s ready. She pushes her hand down the front of his pants, gripping him as he grows hard under her touch. It’s overwhelming in the best way; he feels like a teenager being touched for the first time.

“I wanna have sex,” she breathes into his ear, the words rushing out quickly as though she’s afraid she might change her mind if she waits too long to say them.

He pulls back to look at her. “Are you sure?” he asks, and she nods, bringing her palm to his cheek before glancing at the ring on her finger and smiling.

They move slowly, though still with a sense of urgency that a baby sleeping in the next room brings. He pushes her shirt up and she lets him take it off, then slips the yoga pants off her hips, leaving her in basic black cotton briefs. He sees the hesitancy in her eyes as he looks at her body, now softer than it was before Molly, curvy in different places, purple streaks running from below her belly button to disappear under her panties.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, kissing her chest, her breasts, her belly, running his tongue along the grooves of her stretch marks. He loops his thumbs under the waist of her panties and tugs them down slowly, quickly undressing before he rejoins her in the bed.

“Tell me if anything hurts, okay?” he asks with a serious expression, and she nods, letting her legs fall open as he settles between them. He lines himself up with her entrance and pushes in achingly slowly, watching her face raptly. Her mouth opens slightly, and she takes in a sharp little breath. He’s about to ask her if it hurts when she closes her eyes and her mouth drops open further as she breathes out “oh,” in a way that he knows means pleasure, not pain. When he’s all the way in, their hip bones pressed together tightly, he stills and kisses her for a while, feeling like he could melt into a puddle for how good everything feels. His heart, his mind, his body, he is all wrapped up in her and it’s exactly where he wants to be.

He begins to move, and she responds with an arch of her back and a little gasp, her hands clutching at his shoulders. Little by little, he increases his pace until he knows he won’t last much longer.

“What do you need?” he asks, and she brings her hand to her breast.

He dips his head, flicking at the hardened bud of her nipple, and feels her clench around him. He plays with the level of pressure, licking and sucking, pleasantly surprised that she is enjoying it even as her breasts have taken on a purely functional role these last few months.

She pulls in a huge breath, arching her back and pressing her head into the mattress and he groans as he feels her tighten around him. She emits a single piercing cry when she comes, stifling it with an arm slung across her mouth. He pours into her, burying his face in her neck, clinging to her like a life raft. She is, in fact, all he needs to survive.

Resting half his weight on the mattress beside her, he stays inside as they both come down, panting and smiling, brushing hands over each other’s skin, reconnecting.

“Ah!” Molly yells from the living room, and Mulder laughs.

“You’re being summoned,” Scully says with a tender smile.

He withdraws from her, handing her his T-shirt to clean up while he slips on his sweatpants and retrieves Molly from her bassinet.

“Guess what, Goose?” he says, using his special nickname for her, “Mommy and Daddy are getting married.”

“AH!” She squeals, flapping her arms.

#the x files #txf #dana scully #fox mulder #gillovny #msr #sculder #x files fanfic #alternate universe

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glimmerglanger · 3 years

Note

Mer!AU prompt--Cody mentioned the difference in their refractory periods in chapter six of C+T. Any chance Obi-Wan is gonna notice as well and do something about it? :D?

OHOHOHO! Obi-Wan is very considerate that way. (Spoilers: he does something about it).

This little snippet is VERY spicy. Not safe for wizards. Happy married folks really, uh, enjoying their relationship.

~~~~~~~~~~

Obi-Wan spent time considering the many differences between humans and merfolk as time passed. So many of them were obvious. Others were… less so. There were some he only got to explore when Cody was with him, when they could get close to one another, tangle together.

Learning the things that Cody liked was, very much, a pleasing endeavor. Learning the things that he would have expected from a lover of his own kind took more time, partially because it meant unlearning so much Obi-Wan had grown up accepting.

But Obi-Wan knew how to adapt and very much enjoyed learning everything possible about Cody. And so he learned that Cody wanted his touch to continue, even after orgasm raced through him. He wanted to be touched all through the aftershocks and - and beyond, ideally.

Obi-Wan picked up other information - here and there - in his new home, about different species that lived in the water. He assumed, after some reading, that perhaps the merfolk also had an actual bone in their cocks.

It would explain a lot. Including Cody’s ability to...keep going, past the point when a human would have grown soft and over-sensitive.

Still, Cody never pushed for them to continue longer, never continued touching when Obi-Wan grabbed his hand to still him, though Obi-Wan’s reactions to orgasm must have seemed odd to him. He simply….accepted what they had, and, the one time Obi-Wan broached the subject of their couplings being, well, less than satisfying, he’d seemed genuinely befuddled.

He’d proceeded to demonstrate exactly how satisfying he found their joining, and Obi-Wan knew he’d made enough noise to carry through the water, based solely on the looks he got from his guards the next day.

So, Cody had no….complaints about their love-making. But that did not stop Obi-Wan from wanting to give him, well. Something closer to what he expected. What he was used to. At least occasionally. Obi-Wan considered his options for making such a thing happen while Cody was away, handling things in Sundari.

By the time Cody returned, he had a plan.

Cody ever and always enjoyed having Obi-Wan’s mouth on him, and happily collapsed back against their low bed as Obi-Wan bent over him, barely exchanging initial greetings. Obi-Wan felt impatient under his skin, keyed up with desire, which was not quite his intent.

He needed to hold off his own release as long as possible, to make any of this tenable, and so he ignored the ache of his cock, sliding his mouth further down, instead. Cody panted out his name, hand brushing back over his hair, his skin tasting of salt.

Obi-Wan enjoyed the feel of each ridge sliding over his bottom lip, over and over again, enjoyed the way Cody swore, muscle tensing in his stomach and his fin. They had been apart for nearly two weeks. Obi-Wan knew it would not take long, not the first time, and slid his mouth further down, swallowing, nose brushing scales and--

Cody groaned out a warning, tugging just a little on Obi-Wan’s hair, and Obi-Wan hummed reassuringly around his cock. The vibration must have been just enough to toss Cody over the edge; he arched, cock twitching, pulsing against the top of Obi-Wan’s tongue.

Obi-Wan stayed where he was as long as possible, his eyes watering, his throat aching. He could hold his breath quite a long time, which - he’d found - had uses besides swimming. He stroked Cody’s side, breath held in his chest, and Cody rocked sinuously up off of the bed, slow rolls of his body, working his cock in Obi-Wan’s throat, the ache of it deep and sweet and--

And Obi-Wan eventually had to slide up, sucking in a breath through his nose and resisting the urge to cough, even as another wave of come spilled into his mouth, this time.

He swallowed it, the tip of Cody’s cock between his lips, keeping him there until Cody panted out, “Fuck, Obi-Wan, come here,” and grabbed at him, pulling him up to kiss him, slick with the wet smeared all over Obi-Wan’s mouth.

Cody rubbed at his cheeks, groaning against his mouth, the hard line of his cock pressed against Obi-Wan’s thigh, where Obi-Wan had intentionally tossed a leg across him. Cody reached down, fingers sliding over Obi-Wan’s stomach, and Obi-Wan caught his wrist, tugging to the side.

“What?” Cody asked, drawing back enough to blink at him. “I want to--”

“Not yet,” Obi-Wan cut in, with a smile that felt half-wild. He’d never get to what he wanted to do if Cody started touching him. He’d get distracted, overwhelmed with pleasure. That could wait, at least for a little.

“But--” Cody started, and cut off when Obi-Wan shifted, straddling him properly, scales so cool against the insides of his thighs, Cody spread out under him, the purple light pouring off of his skin lighting up the otherwise dark room around them.

Obi-Wan ground against him, just for a moment, sending a shiver of want down his own back, leaving it pooling in his gut. It was so tempting to just continue the movement, and it had been two weeks for him, too.

He had the brief thought that he should have - perhaps - waited to attempt this until Cody had been back a few days, until they’d burned out some of their initial wants. But he’d been impatient. And so he ignored his own aching cock, sitting up a little straighter and reaching for the oil he’d set to the side.

“I missed you,” he panted out, slicking his fingers and sliding his hand down over Cody’s cock, already wet from his mouth and throat. He ached with how much he wanted, and with the preparations he’d done, earlier.

He’d left himself so close to coming, earlier, when he was getting ready for this, stretching himself out, hoping to make himself less on edge once Cody actually arrived.

Things hadn’t quite worked out that way, but… “I miss you with every breath,” Cody told him, “hold on, I can help,” he started, sliding a hand over Obi-Wan’s hip, around to his ass, and he’d been very pleased with himself for filing down two of his nails, last time he’d visited.

Obi-Wan couldn’t think of the feeling of Cody’s fingers inside of him - only to the second knuckle, because the webbing got in the way after that - or he’d spill before they even got started. He bit his bottom lip, made a ragged sound, and sank down, hoping to distract himself.

The stretch of Cody’s cock was distracting, but it did absolutely nothing to slow down the blazing rush of want in his spine. Cody made a thick, hungry sound, both hands on Obi-Wan’s hips now, squeezing as he rasped out, “You--fuck--you got ready? Ready for me?”

“I was knowing you were going to be here,” Obi-Wan managed to answer, a smile on his mouth as he considered the hunger in Cody’s expression, wondering why Cody seemed to like that information so much. “I did not wanting to wait.”

Cody’s eyes were so wide and so dark as he panted out, “I won’t make you wait, then,” and arched up, driving his cock the rest of the way inside, Obi-Wan crying out at the feel of him, half-falling forward, catching himself on his hands.

Cody no longer had to worry about hurting his stomach or agitating wounds when they were together. He moved beneath Obi-Wan, and it took Obi-Wan a dizzy moment to even think about meeting his movements.

First, he had to reach a hand down and squeeze the base of his cock, because just the feel of it after so long….

“You’re not stroking yourself,” Cody said, ragged, his gaze down by Obi-Wan’s cock, by his unmoving hand, and Obi-Wan jerked out a nod, unable to find words at the moment. “I’ll help you,” Cody added, sliding a hand over, and Obi-Wan made a rough sound.

“Not yet,” he managed to pant out, wrestling for control and managing some measure of it after a moment. Cody blinked up at him, expression questioning, and Obi-Wan added, “I want. To wait. A while longer.”

Cody opened his mouth and shut it again on a groan when Obi-Wan felt controlled enough to rise up, to sink down on him, and, oh, he felt so good.

At least, in this position, Obi-Wan could avoid direct stimulation of his prostate. But it was still so good, having Cody in him after so long denied. He was so painfully aware of his aching cock, of the need, and he could feel himself losing his rhythm, distracted and wanting and--

And it was not much of a surprise when Cody wrapped an arm around him and rolled them, rasping, “Let me, I’ve got you,” and oh, changing the angle and fucking into him. Obi-Wan groaned, wordless as Cody hooked an arm under one of his knees, hitching his leg up.

Obi-Wan had meant not to come yet. He really had, but the position dragged his cock against Cody’s stomach, and Cody drove into him so perfectly, and it had been too long, and he spilled with a ragged cry, scrambling for a grip at Cody’s shoulders and arms.

Cody hesitated, breathing hard above him, and Obi-Wan dug his free heel against Cody’s back, panting out, “Keep--keep going, it’s, keep--”

It was, apparently, all the motivation Cody needed. He rocked into motion, fucking Obi-Wan through it, mucles shifting and clenching under Obi-Wan’s hands until he cried out, as well, curling forward and coming in long, hot pulses and Obi-Wan felt them.

He’d gotten used to the way Cody rolled against him, after an orgasm. Even sensitive, he loved that slow movement, the knowledge that he could make Cody feel so good. He felt his breathing even out as Cody nuzzled against his hair, still all lit up, casting shadows on the walls around them.

Cody brushed a kiss to his mouth, long moments later, and shifted to slide out of him, murmuring, “Let me get you some--”

“Stay,” Obi-Wan panted, tugging on Cody’s arm even as he rolled. He wanted to - to see if he could wear Cody out, properly. But his hips protested the idea of trying another round on his back. He vaguely considered that he should have cleaned the come off of his stomach before smearing it all over the sheets, but it was too late to fix that now. He glanced over his shoulder and said, “Come here.”

Cody stared at him, looked down his body and then up again, eyes unfathomably dark. He said, “But… I know you’re tired.”

“Not that tired,” Obi-Wan assured him, and slid one knee a little out to the side, which was, he knew, a bit of a dirty trick.

Cody was ever so fascinated with the way he could bend and stretch his legs. And, sure enough, it had Cody sliding a hand up the back of his thigh, rolling a little closer, asking, “Should I hold you, then?”

“You should fucking me, then,” Obi-Wan told him, and Cody made a thick sound. After all, Obi-Wan wasn’t that sensitive, not yet. His plan was still manageable, and--

Cody slid against him, between his legs, settling close and all the thoughts fled Obi-Wan’s head as Cody asked, “You’re sure?”

“Come on,” Obi-Wan said, in answer, tilting his hips up, and then swore, thready, when Cody pushed forward, into him, all at once, he was already so slick and stretched and--

And Obi-Wan felt himself getting hard again, the situation getting more pressing when Cody worked a hand under him, gripping his cock, stroking in time with each thrust, panting against his shoulders, and--

Obi-Wan’s second orgasm left him shaking, face pressed against the sheets while Cody kept going, mouthing at the back of his neck, leaving his skin aching in anticipation. Obi-Wan managed to twist an arm up and back, to twist fingers into Cody’s hair, tugging him closer.

Cody bit him almost right by his neck, teeth sinking in at the end of his orgasm, when he felt most sensitive, and he cried out, blindingly aware of each slide of Cody’s cock, of each shift of his teeth, or his weight and warmth and light.

Cody blanketed him and came with a sound that was muffled against Obi-Wan’s skin.

And Obi-Wan managed to say, through the daze, before Cody could get any ideas about pulling out and getting him water, about tending to the bite, “Again.”

Cody made a ragged noise and rocked into him more purposefully, and it was--so much. Too much and at the same time not enough, as though there were some plateau in Obi-Wan’s head that he’d never reached before, and each too-much touch was driving him closer to it.

He squirmed, couldn’t stop himself, heard a whine in his throat as Cody kept his teeth set just so. There was no room for thought, for anything really. He was just his blood and his nerves and sensation, striving to see, exactly, how much he could take.

#glimmer replies #ask me anything #by the sea #codywan #flotsam and jetsam #clotsam and tetsam #spicy #not safe for wizards #not even REMOTELY #SO NOT SAFE

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some-kindofgnome · 4 years

Text

Kinktober #7: Anytime: Mirio Togata

In which you give Mirio something that he really, really deserves.

Characters: Mirio Togata x f!Reader

Warnings: smut (18+ please!) oral sex (m-receiving, mentions of f-receiving), fluff (FLUFF), aged up characters, public showers, strong language, mirio being absolutely adorable, offensively early visits to the gym

Notes: We’ve made it to the end of the first week of Kinktober! Thank you to everyone who’s been following, liking, and reading my work! I’ve had a lot of fun creating and sharing these stories for you so far.

I’ve got a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it college au coming atcha! Today’s prompt was ‘Blowjob,’ and I’m not gonna lie- I’m excited to put this one into the world. 😂 It’s cuuuuuute, okay?

Kinktober Masterlist

“The coast is clear.”

“Good. Close the door.”

You’re in stealth mode as you creep into the showers, sticking close enough to Mirio that your nose is practically buried between his shoulder blades. Even if the locker room doors are only twenty feet from where you’d been standing, you’ve got your fingers laced through his.

You’re not quite ready to break contact with him, considering what you’ve got planned.

It was his idea to start working out in the mornings again. You used to come in the evenings, after both of you were finished with class and schoolwork. But the only problem was that everybody else on the entire goddamned college campus- students, profs, anyone with a heartbeat- had the same idea.

Sick of crowded treadmills and waiting in line for weight benches, you came when the doors opened at six-thirty every morning. Some other gyms might be crowded at that time. But this was a college gym. And no college student in their right mind got out of bed before nine.

Needless to say, you almost always have the place to yourselves. You love working out with Mirio. Not only is he the best coach- encouraging, challenging, but never judgemental- but you get to watch him, too.

Something tells you that he’s clued into the fact that you like a little eye candy with your early morning workout, since he’s started showing up with less clothing every time. He’s got a habit of wearing those loose-fitting athletic shorts these days that don’t hide a damned thing.

And you’re pretty fucking sure he’s not wearing anything underneath them, either.

Your friends like to tease you about the sunny disposition your boyfriend always carries. They seem to think that the ability to seem happy all the time and a tendency toward dirty thoughts are mutually exclusive traits.

You don’t like to kiss and tell. But as soon as both of you had been dating long enough to get over yourselves, you’d discovered that Mirio Togata was a shameless- no, ruthless- flirt.

He closes the door softly behind him. His reflexes are still on high alert from sneaking past the desk attendant, even though she’d looked about as close to sleeping with her eyes open as one can possibly get. Apparently, she doesn’t get paid enough to stop you.

That doesn’t stop either of you from wanting the door locked, though. With deft fingers, Mirio slips the latch into place.

Then you’re on him.

“W-wait, babe, I-I thought we were gonna shower first-“

He stutters between peals of laughter as you grab him by the arms and hustle him toward the tile wall, pushing his shoulders up against it and kissing your way down his neck.

“Can’t wait,” you mumble, sliding unabashedly onto your knees in front of him. “Wanna taste you.”

You’ve been thinking about doing this all morning. It all started over at the bench press when, instead of spotting him, you were spotting the half-mast he’d been sporting through his basketball shorts. Apparently, exertion did that to a guy.

Exertion. Arousal. You don’t care, as long as it’s in your mouth.

Mirio’s definitely caught off guard by your forwardness, but he’s not stopping you as you shove his shorts down. You’re right, by the way- he’s not wearing anything underneath. Goddamn tease. He knows what he’s getting himself into.

He’s only half-hard but you can’t wait to get your mouth on him, flushed and salty. You wrap your fingers around the base of his cock and his hips stutter.

“P-princess,” he grunts as hard lines of muscle stand out along the ridges of his tensing thighs. You can’t wait any longer, leaning in and licking a stripe up the underside of his cock before you swallow him down.

You’ve never felt a reaction like his before.

The urgency of this entire situation was born out of a conversation that came last night. The two of you had been curled in his bed, spent and breathless. He’d gone down on you, eating you out until you were numb and boneless, and you’d mentioned something after the fact about returning the favour.

“I’d never make you,” he’d chuckled bashfully, “but if you ever wanted to, I’d love to know what it feels like.”

You sprang out of bed so fast that you bashed your shin against the frame. The bruise is getting nasty now, almost ten hours later.

Nobody in the history of Mirio Togata had ever thought that he had a cock worth sucking. When you’d tried to ask him why, he’d just blushed and insisted that none of the girls he’d ever dated seemed interested. And he wasn’t interested in making them do something they didn’t enjoy, so… here he was. Twenty years old and he’s never had his cock sucked.

You’d promised to rectify the issue. At a later date, when the two of you had regained feeling in your limbs again.

Cue early morning workout. Scandalously underdressed boyfriend. Conveniently abandoned locker room. Delightfully cool tile wall.

Now it’s Mirio’s turn to go boneless with his back to it. One of his hands crawls into the base of your ponytail as his hips jerk hesitantly into your mouth.

“Ah! Nngh, I’m sorry,” he pants, but you’re prepared for this. You purse your lips and groan around him, letting him shiver through the vibrations before you pull your mouth off him with a wet little pop.

“I can take you, baby,” you promise breathlessly, casting your eyes up just long enough to see what a brilliant shade of scarlet his ears and cheeks are turning. For a man with so much confidence in bed, it’s nice to see him fall apart every so often. He’s not afraid to give up his composure to you.

Just another thing you love so much about him.

You take him again- only this time, you draw it out, suckling playfully at the head until he’s whimpering and flexing his hand in your hair. And when you’re almost certain he can’t handle any more you start into a rhythm, bobbing back and forth while your tongue works him and your hand picks up the slack.

He’s too big to swallow completely, but… it’s not like he’ll have anything to compare this feeling to.

“Oh god, Princess, I- your mouth…”

You suck and lick and slurp away, letting it get sloppy. Loving the way he seems overstimulated already, giving tender little cries as his body shakes and shudders with every purse of your lips.

“Look at you,” he gasps, and you realize that he’s looking down at you for the first time. That seems to double the tension in his body, and you slide your free hand up the front of one bare thigh, finding the weight of his balls and giving them a gentle tug.

He shouts, throwing his head into the tiles with a dull little thud. You feel his knees give a little.

“Oh god,” comes his voice again, pinched and desperate. “Aw, hell, oh, man, oh, fu-huck, I-I’m…”

He doesn’t give you too much warning, but you’re ready for him anyway as his body seizes. He jerks involuntarily at your hair and his hips buck forward, fucking your face as his cock twitches.

He cries out and tries to pull back, but you grab his ass, pulling his hips forcefully forward and holding him there. He takes the hint and leans into it, giving a cry of your name as he empties himself down your throat.

When he’s finished and going limp in your mouth you pull away and he collapses against the wall, sliding down it until his bare ass is on the floor with his shorts still around his knees.

“So?” You hum, sliding up next to him. You help him tug his shorts up and get himself situated again, and he runs a hand over the back of his neck, which has also gone crimson.

“You’re…” he starts, then trails off. When he looks up at you it’s with the most bashful, loving grin you’ve ever seen. If he could have hearts in his eyes, he would.

“You’re incredible.”

You laugh. You can’t help it. You lean in and kiss his cheek, then nuzzle your nose against the corner of his jaw.

“Nah,” you reply. “You just really, really deserved that.”

He doesn’t say anything right away. A thoughtful expression crosses his face for a moment. Then he speaks up.

“So you’ll do it again sometime?”

You’re still giggling, but it’s only because you’re falling in love with him all over again. You put your arms around him and squeeze.

“Any time.”

He leans over and kisses the top of your head, smiling into your hair.

“Good.”

In a single, sweeping motion, he grabs you by the thighs and hauls you into his arms, hoisting himself into his feet. He’s making for one of the benches, and you can tell by the look in his eye- not hearts anymore, something else- that you’re in for it now.

He lays you out on the narrow bench and gets down on his knees beside you. Bashful, overstimulated Mirio is nowhere to be found as he smirks, bringing his mouth to your ear and giving you a tender growl.

“My turn.”

#mirio togata x reader #my hero academia #mirio x reader #lemillion #mha lemillion #kinktober #jbbkinktober2020 #mirio togata #mirio #mha fanfiction #boku no hero academia #bnha fanfiction

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spencers-renaissance · 3 years

Text

my pain fits in the palm of your freezing hand

Summary: Emily leaves. Her heart is breaking. JJ follows. Hers is waking up.

Tags: angst with a happy ending, fluff, mutual pining, crying, first kiss, around s7, no henry

Pairing: Emily Prentiss x Jennifer Jareau

Word Count: 1.3k

Masterlist // Read on AO3

Emily’s heart hurts.

She’d made the decision a little over a week ago and given her notice to Hotch before she could rethink it. This is the right thing to do, as painful as it is. Poison ivy has been wrapping itself around her heart for the last six years, slowly constricting as it squeezes all the life out of her, her old self bleeding out as she falls deeper and deeper in love with Jennifer Jareau.

JJ is happy; Emily is not. It’s as simple as knowing that she can’t turn up at work every day and feel herself break a little more. The worst part is that she loves her with all the tiny shattered pieces of her bleeding heart, and the longer it goes on, the more convinced she is that she will only continue to wade deeper into the weighty ocean of heartache she’s already close to drowning under.

She’d asked Hotch to keep it quiet: she has no intention of telling a soul. She doesn’t know how to. How do you leave the only family you’ve ever known without losing the last few shreds of happiness, of sanity you have left? Emily has no idea, but she knows that a long, drawn out, teary goodbye is not the answer.

So. She works her last case. She leaves. She flies to London, then to Manchester. She doesn’t intend on ever coming back.

⭐️

JJ is furious. The kind of wet, blazing anger that sears your lungs when it’s fuelled by hot, grief-filled misery. How dare Emily leave her like that?

She can’t stop crying: she tears up on the jet when she sits across from Emily’s usual seat, she cries in the toilets when anyone mentions her name, she sobs in bed at night, thinking of their drunken sleepovers and the feeling of Emily’s hand in hers. A curious thought forms at the back of her mind only days after the news of her loss breaks, and the more she entertains it, the more its truth starts to take her breath away, crushing her windpipe and snatching the air from her lungs.

She has never been happier than she has in times spent with Emily Prentiss.

Taking stock of her life, considering all the things she dreams of, thinking about every time she’s cried over the past few weeks, she breaks up with Will. It’s the most painful thing she’s ever done, but she can only feel relief when she cries into Penelope’s shoulder as Spencer pours them all generous glasses of white wine. She got out before they got really serious, before kids or marriage could complicate matters even further, and if that’s the only thing she has to be thankful for tonight, then she’ll take it.

“You have to go to London,” Spencer says quietly later that evening, when they’re all lying next to one another on Penelope’s carpet. They have bellies full of wine and friendship, but she doesn’t like the way it mixes with the heartache that’s made its home in hers.

“I know,” she whispers, reaching for his hand and squeezing it tightly, before doing the same with Penelope’s. “I love you.” She wishes she was saying it to someone else.

⭐️

She waits for Emily on a bench opposite the interpol office. It’s cold in England, so she’s wrapped up in a thick, knitted scarf with a blue bobble hat obscuring half her face. Emily spots her immediately. She does a double take, stares as though convinced her eyes are deceiving her, raises her hand to her mouth and squeezes her eyes shut before running across the road, straight into JJ’s open arms.

“Please tell me you’re here for the reason I think you are,” Emily begs as she pulls back from their tight embrace. Her eyes are so deep, so sad, and JJ’s heart breaks a few million times.

“I’m here… because it took you leaving to show me that Will is not my soulmate,” she says, both her voice and eyes wet as she laughs — half happily, half nervously, “you are, Emily.”

Her face crumples at those words and she sits on the bench, leaning forward and placing her elbows on her knees before burrowing her face in her hands. Her shoulders shake in minute sobs as emotion consumes her entire being for a moment.

JJ is at a loss, but she doesn’t realise that Emily’s been in love for six years, and that sort of emotion takes a toll on a person. So she sits down next to her on the bench, and reaches her freezing hand for one of Emily’s, coaxing her face away from its protective cocoon.

“Em,” she whispers, everything she’s asking in one syllable immediately clear to the other woman sitting on this cold metal bench, coated in chipping blue paint, in the middle of Autumnal Manchester.

“I’m sorry,” she says, meeting JJ’s wide eyes with her own. “I just—”

Watching her struggle for the right words, seeing the warring emotions in her sweet, soulful eyes, JJ cuts her off. ��Emily,” she says firmly, holding her hand even tighter, “I’m in love with you.”

She half-expects to set her crying again, but Emily’s face softens and relaxes, gentle sensitivity replacing the anxious restlessness written into every movement in the muscles of her eyes, her cheeks, her mouth. She has a sudden urge to touch the storybook in front of her, so she does. A shaking, wind-frozen palm rests against Emily’s wet cheek, and she leans in, pressing her lips to the ones she’s dreamed of for the last few weeks.

Emily wastes no time kissing back, reaching a hand to the back of JJ’s neck, tangling her fingers in her hair. Her other hand roams from her neck, to her shoulder, her arm, before coming to grip the fabric of JJ’s coat as if to pull her even closer, all the complex emotions of falling in love pouring themselves out as they kiss one another with the gentle ferocity of reunited soulmates. Which, JJ supposes, they are.

When they eventually pull apart, Emily rests her forehead against JJ’s. “I’m in love with you, too,” she whispers, her words almost stolen by the cold wind, shaking the dying leaves from the trees surrounding them. “Dinner?”

JJ laughs happily, standing up from the bench as she reaches a hand out. Emily takes it, and their cold fingers intertwine as they walk down the street towards an Italian restaurant she promises is the best in town.

⭐️

Emily’s heart is bursting.

JJ’s still sleeping as she bustles around her kitchen, putting the coffee machine on as she preps some croissant dough and turns the oven on, so she can put them in as soon as her girlfriend wakes up. They’d spent the last month in Manchester together, taking evening walks and spending their weekends in bed, wrapped up in clean white sheets as their favourite TV shows played out across the room.

She’d sworn on her flight to London that she would never return to Virginia. Sure, she might come home to the US at some point — after all, a VISA only lasts so long — but Virginia is everything JJ is: sweet, warm, and so, so off-limits. She knew if she ever stepped foot in that state again, she’d crawl home to the only person her heart has ever cried for, and she couldn’t do that to herself.

Now, though, their suitcases are half-packed in the bedroom, almost ready for their flight home to Quantico.

JJ’s hair isn’t brushed when she pads into the kitchen half an hour after Emily wakes up. She has morning breath and a zit is forming on her chin, but Emily’s lips split into a grin as soon as she lays eyes on her. Opening her arms, JJ steps into them, and their bodies press against one another, so warm, so soft.

This, Emily thinks, is all she wants for the rest of her days. For as long as JJ will have her.

The soft look in JJ’s eyes as they pull away, the soft, warm palm against her hip, tells her that she won’t be going anywhere any time soon.

taglist: @criminalmindsvibez @strippersenseii

#my writing #criminal minds #criminal minds writing #criminal minds fic #jemily #jemily fic #emily prentiss/jennifer jareau #Emily Prentiss x Jennifer Jareau #emily prentiss #jennifer jareau

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volleychumps · 4 years

Text

To Choose (2)

See the first part here~

The first part was one of my first creations on this blog in March, so here’s to nurturing this blog for almost six months. The writing development might be drastically different from the time between these two pieces, but enjoy this angsty ride.

To the twenty one of you who have asked, here it is ladies and gents<3

Warning(s): angst, slight cursing

------------------------------

“Oi. There you are.”

Your legs still as tension floods your body, your teeth finding your lip as the familiar voice makes a quiver in your chest appear. The blonde’s voice takes on a warning tone, and you look around for help as Tsukishima’s irritation grows at the sight of your turned back. The blonde crosses his arms, hands slipping from the warm confines of his pockets as he’s faced with another occurrence of trying to pin you in place.

“Y/N, you can’t keep running away-”

“She can so!” The duo is quick, and you barely manage to make out heads the color of dark hair and orange hair, one slinging an arm through yours to drag you in your escape and one simply placing a hand on your shoulder to pick up the pace in his longer legs. Hinata grins widely from your left as Kageyama simply nods to you from your right as a thankful grin remains fleeting on your lips.

“This is childish.”

“Stop chasing girls that don’t want to talk to you then, looney.”

“What did you just-”

“Y/N-chan...” Hinata sweatdrops at his mistake, turning to face his head forward again after antagonizing the blonde. “We should hurry, no?”

“Idiot.”

“Kageyama!”

Hinata’s whine falls on deaf ears as you take the chance to glance back, barely catching a glimpse of the stoic blonde who watched you run away from him for the third time that week, clicking his tongue in obvious annoyance.

The glance was so quick you hadn’t even realized the freckled boy slowly lower the hand he had lifted in greeting as you brushed past him, also having lacked any communication with you since that night.

-------------------------------

“You two don’t have to help me, you know. I was joking when I said help me avoid them, it was a joke.” You hand Kageyama his milk carton after bending to grab it from the machine, sighing.

“Us first years have to stick together against the wreath of Tsukishima!” Hinata clenches his fist as you tilt your head, awkward smile on your face.

“You mean wrath?”

“Eh? Is that how to say it?”

Kageyama shrugs at the apricot-haired boy as he pokes his straw into his milk, looking at you with a strange interest in his blue eyes. “But wouldn’t it be better for you to just make a decision?”

You pout, covering your ears as you turn around with flushed cheeks. “I can’t hear you, so that means no decision has to be made.”

“Yeah, pretty sure that’s now how that works.” Kageyama scolds you, your friend chopping you lightly on the head with the side of his palm. You turn towards your two friends with flushed cheeks, thankful you had befriended the height-differentiated duo in your first escape from Tsukishima, Hinata thinking it would be fun to try and piss of Tsukishima- and eventually, Hinata and Kageyama began appearing to hang out with you during free periods or lunch time, a good distraction from what was going on in your slightly disastrous love life.

“Yamaguchi’s been really sad at practice, Y/N.” Hinata nudges you as the bell rings, signaling lunch was coming to an end. “You should talk to him.”

“...and Tsukishima?”

“Nah, he’s fine.” Hinata shrugs, beginning to walk off towards his hallway before Kageyama drops his voice, brushing past you to follow his wing-spiker.

“He hasn’t been. I suggest you figure it out before one of them gets seriously hurt...as your friend, I don’t like to see you like this, so hurry up and be happy already.”

You blink, bewildered at the alien-like words that slipped the introverted boy’s lips, as Kageyama speeds up his pace to walk side by side with Hinata, the tips of his ears turning red as you smile softly to yourself. A heavy weight settles on your chest as you clench the shirt material that rested above your heart.

Just when do you stop running?

-----------------------

The night was cold.

You wrap your arms loosely around yourself, stopping when your feet root themselves in front of the playground in your neighborhood, finally alone with just you and your thoughts. No shy, pure-hearted freckled boy looking at you with that hopeful glint in his eyes. No hard-shelled, slightly sadistic blonde who can’t face his feelings for you, on your heel.

You wished you never caught any sort of feelings, and that those three children at this playground years ago could keep everything platonic forever.

But time wouldn’t allow that, as the freckled boy looked at the (H/C) one, while the (H/C) one looked at the blonde one-

And platonic was suddenly no longer an option.

Your legs swing aimlessly as your hands grip at the cool chains of the rusted swing set, reminiscing on the purity that was the past. The blame was on you for ruining that bond, confessing your feelings without realizing the rift it would cause between the three of you. You hung your head in slight shame, realizing you had confessed even with the suspicion that Yamaguchi loved you, a fact you refused to accept.

And then you were back to all those years ago, as a nine-year old Yamaguchi kneels before you with bandages for your knees while a taller nine-year old Tsukishima laughs in the background at your pain. When Yamaguchi had ran off to get the teacher, Tsukishima had thumped your forehead, wiping your tears with his sleeve while still laughing at the pout on your lips.

“Stop crying already, ugly.”

I don’t mind being the bad guy, because the nice guy never wins.

You cover your face with your hands at Tsukishima’s words echoing in your mind. Stop it.

“Y/N-chan! I got the teacher!”

Am I helping you...get over Tsukki?

Stop it.

I’m sorry. I don’t really have time for things like that…

Please.

I’m happy you’re even considering me. Come on, I’ll buy you dessert.

“...Y/N-chan? It’s late, what are you doing here?”

Freckles. Bandages. Signature worry in his tone when it came to you.

And then you had your answer, the feeling washing over you like a tide within the ocean as you shakily reach your arms out, scared the pain of how frail that answer made you feel would send you hurtling.

Yamaguchi stills in place in the midst of draping his jacket over your shoulders, the front of his shirt becoming soaked with tears as you wrapped both arms around his mid-section to pull him tightly to you. Something within him seems to sink as he smiles, putting a single hand atop your head as he wills the crack out of his voice, light tone too forced as he steadies his breaths.

One more time. He would hold you like this for one more time.

“It was never me, was it, Y/N-chan?”

Your sobs seemed to begin to wreck through your body as Yamaguchi merely chuckles softly, closing his eyes as his hand finds the back of your head, a pair of lips gently pressing atop your head.

“It’s okay. Sh. I knew it wouldn’t be me.”

“Tadashi.” You grip the back of his shirt, whimpering into his chest as the coolness of the swing set chains suddenly become unnoticeable, your other hand gripping said chain even tighter.

The hope rose in his chest pitifully.

“I’m sorry.”

And then it sank.

And Yamaguchi said nothing, swallowing back the lump in his throat as tears trickle down freckled cheeks, thankful you couldn’t see them as he holds onto someone who could never be his.

Still, he smiled into your hair, smooth circles on your back while the warmth of his jacket cascaded the coldness of your body, basking in the feel of you in the arms that always protected you-

as you rejected the boy who loved you first.

-----------------------------

“You cried.”

“Thank you, captain obvious.”

Tsukishima slips his phone back into his pocket, deleting the message for you to come out as he sees your absolutely wrung-out form walk up to your house at this hour of the night. He frowns in slight worry as you wipe hastily at your eyes. The blonde pushed off from his leaning position against the entrance to your home, standing straight as you attempted to brush past him in the moonlight.

“Not tonight, Tsukki.”

The blonde catches your wrist, and you weakly try to pull your grip away to no avail.

“I’m not waiting for you forever, idiot.”

“Then don’t. Stop waiting for me, and go to someone else.” The defeated tone sinks into your voice as hazel eyes widen, snarky features falling to a serious one.

“What are you talking about? Is this about Yamaguchi?”

You lift your head slightly, meeting his confused gaze with a sad one, a small smile stretching tiredly across your lips as previous tears begin to dry in cold air.

“Ne, Tsukki. Can we go back in time?”

“What-?”

“Can all of us- you, me, Tadashi- just stay the way we were to begin with? No more of this love shit-”

“Y/N-”

“Why did it have to be you?”

Silence. A loosened grip on your wrist.

“You were always so mean to me. You didn’t want anything to do with me when I confessed. You only wanted me when Yamaguchi started acting on his feelings, so why?!”

Your voice is risen now, tears brimming your eyes for god knows who many times that night as a glint flashes over Tsukishima’s glasses. You clench your fists, hysteria in your voice as you laugh in disbelief, a familiar heat brimming your eyes.

“Why did it have to be-?!”

Tsukishima rolls his eyes, pressing your back against the entrance of your home with a single hand on your waist, silencing you efficiently as you look doe-eyed up at him, using his sleeve to wipe your tears away in a sense of familiarity as your tears continue to stream helplessly. Hazel eyes bore into you as he leans down, irritation evident in his irises.

“For the love of god, shut up.”

Slender fingers find your jaw as he tilts your head upwards, crashing his lips against yours roughly as you clench at his shirt, the blonde not batting an eye at the wetness of your cheeks. He holds you against him tighter, the hand not holding your jaw lifting from your waist to the small of your back to press you against him, your breaths mingling when he pulls back.

The tears were less now, your breaths struggling to remain straight as Tsukishima’s words fan over your lips.

“You think you’re the only one who wonders that?”

Your eyes widen, but you say nothing.

“God, you were always this whiny little girl ever since we were kids, too dumb to see the way Yamaguchi looked at you.” His grip on your jaw tightens as his eyes harden, flashing back to the hidden time where he stifled what he felt for you after seeing that glint in his friend’s eye.

“But I did. I saw it all. I convinced myself that you two could have each other, but you know what?”

You close your eyes with a sigh when his lips find your neck, lips moving against your skin.

“I’m done convincing myself. You choose me, right?”

Yamaguchi flashes in your head, but you were so immersed with Tsukishima, the image seemed to fade as soon as it had flashed. You find yourself nodding with a whimper, the blonde seeming to smirk at the movement before pulling back slightly.

And you’re shocked at the relieved expression he has on before he leans his forehead against yours, nose barely touching yours as his grip on you weakens. You weren’t going anywhere.

“Now, was choosing that hard? I told you, Y/N-”

Conflict swirls in your heart as Tsukishima claims your lips once again.

“The nice guy never wins.”

-------------------------------------

“Ready to go to school, Y/N-chan?”

You blink at the sight before you, smiling at the fact that things were moderately back to normal. Tsukishima barely glanced up at you as Yamaguchi grinned at you with a wave from the bottom of your stairs at your doorstep, and you shut the door behind you as you approach with a small wave back.

“Kageyama wanted me to grab him milk on the way.”

“Since when are you friends with that idiot?”

“That idiot is on your team, so be nice.”

Tsukishima rolls his eyes, slipping his hand into yours as you walk, making you tense up a little before relaxing your palm into his hold as he strolls casually-

Yamaguchi glancing at the clasped hands with a tug at his heart before a smile replaces the crestfallen look on his face, walking to your other side to talk to you with a brightness in his voice.

He would watch you from afar, yet at a distance you were familiar with as you continued your love for his best friend. Loving you from a distance as something more to you, while treating you as his best friend from inches away, pretending as if there hadn’t been a sliver of a chance that your heart would lean in his direction.

And every time you turned away from him to look at the blonde who held your heart since the beginning,

Yamaguchi Tadashi was back seven years ago where everything first started, fighting a losing battle with eyes that only yearned for you.

“You coming, Yamaguchi?” Tsukishima tilts his head back to the freckled boy who had fallen a few steps behind, swirled in his symphony of thoughts, as Yamaguchi blinks out of his trance. He grins despite the weight on his chest, picking up the pace to walk at your side, like always.

“Coming! Hey, can we grab some breakfast if we’re stopping at the convenience store?”

And just like always, he would always fall one step behind.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

AJSHKJASK ouch this kinda hurted me doe- I have a few ideas for an alternate ending if it’s wanted!! I had to choose the route that made the most sense to me, so I’m sorry if this made you guys sad:(

Still, I love “To Choose” and how ever many parts it needs with all my heart.

General Works: @takemetovalhalla @savemesteeb @kasandrafaye @dreebbles @yams046 @aprettyfruit @therestless101 @dai-tsukki-desu @lifeisntjustblackandwhite @curiouslilbeast @wisepandaslimeland @deadontheinsidebut @lmkjimin @h0ngh0ngh0ng @theworldupthere @itz-tooru @orangegiraffe7 @let-me-have-my-own-name

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu x you #haikyuu reads #haikyuu fic #haikyuu tsukishima #tsukishima kei #tsukishima x reader #haikyuu angst #yamaguchi #haikyuu yamaguchi #yamaguchi tadashi #Karasuno #haikyuu karasuno

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eisukevint · 3 years

Text

A Million Tears

Pairing: Ota/Mc

Genre: Angst

a/u: Ota’s ‘our prenuptial nightmare’ but it’s a different ending.

This one’s for you @kbtbbposts !!

. . .

Sometimes he’d cry himself to sleep. Other days there’d be a flash of red and he’d bolt right up from the horrendous nightmare he was seeing. The same everyday with the blood of his beloved and his unborn baby splattered every where. Sometimes he’d wonder how his life would’ve been if she wasn’t put up for auction on that fateful night but then he’d think where would he be if things didn’t go the way they did.

It’s my fault

He’d contemplate over that one sentiment over and over again. Hell he’d even considered ending his life. But the other bidders would talk him out of it.

Ota sat up in his bed, his honey blonde hair drenched with sweat sticking to his forehead from that same dream rather nightmare that he had to remind him how he fucked up.

“It’s my own fucking fault.” He muttered feeling the empty space beside him reminiscing how he’d lay down with his beloved after their intense love making.

Only if he hadn’t asked her to stay outside so he could buy her the bracelet she set her eye on in the window of the vintage shop. Then maybe things would’ve been different. Maybe that bitch Rin wouldn’t have been able kidnapped her. She and their thumper would’ve lived.

‘Why couldn’t it be me who was under the lighting fixture?’ He had asked himself countless times.

—

He was too late pushing them out of the way. Rin had already cut the wire. The fixture fell on his fiancée who was carrying their unborn child. His feet jammed to the spot. Mind blank and heart thumping out of his chest. Anyone but her. He kept on chanting in his mind like a motto. She was the only living light in his life. But he daren’t move to check. Because he was scared. Scared that he’ll find her warm pale skin cold to the touch. But the blood seeping out from underneath the fallen ceiling was deceiving his heart which he thought would stop. He didn’t even realise the stream of tears flowing from his eyes. He was glad that he’d informed the other bidders of his beloved’s kidnapping. Mamoru and Soryu dealt with Rin while Baba and Eisuke pulled Mc from underneath the wreckage. Baba checked her pulse but the heartbeat Ota used to drift off to sleep was no longer there. When Baba gave him a look of utter heartbreak he crumbled. He felt like his soul was being torn out of his body. He broke down. Cried his heart out into Baba’s shoulder who’s eyes skimmed with unshed tears. Even Eisuke and Soryu who were usually expressionless wore a face of absolute grief after all she was the only one who looked right through their facades. Who truly knew them for who they were. Rin took not only one but two lives and Ota swore to destroy her.

He didn’t want to attend her funeral. He couldn’t bear to see them lowering her down into the soil. But he had to. For their sake. Caught up in emotion he clung to her grave so much that they had to forcibly pull him away.

That day onwards when it finally sunk in that she was no more, he was filled with despair and anguish. The only emotions he’d feel was regret and agony. He hated it. He wanted to touch her so bad. Take her in his arms. Kiss her silky lips. Hear her say ‘welcome home’ in the cheeky way she did eveyday.

—

4:47 A.M

He got out of the bed which all of a sudden felt really big for a single person. Eyes wet, he made his way to the kitchen to sober up. He was chugging down crisp chilled water when his eyes caught the sight of the silver knives standing upside down on the shelf making him think dangerously.

‘Why don- why don’t I just end it all? I don’t even deserve to live. Maybe it’s the best way’ His thoughts were as clear as pellucid water as he grabbed the knife from the stand.

Baba was returning from a mission when he decided to check up on Ota. Thankfully he had the key to his suite. He did think that maybe he was sleeping but remembering the recurring nightmares he talked about once worried him so he went right in.

He decided to go straight to his bedroom but hearing clatter in the kitchen, he moved in that direction. His eyes widened in horror as he saw Ota with the silver placed on his wrist ready to slash down.

“Are you out of your fucking mind?!” Baba immediately rushed towards him and slapped the knife out of his hand.

“Do you have the slightest idea of what you were doing?” He screamed while Ota moved back startled.

“I swear to god, we lost two of them, we can’t bear to lose you too!” Ota was surprised beyond belief. He honestly didn’t think he’d care this much.

“But Baba, I don’t- I didn’t know what to do. They didn’t fucking deserve to die. She had a problem with me! Why did she take it out on them instead of me?! I want to blame Rin but I know it’s my fault too. I couldn’t even give her a proper wedding. I lost my chance to legally call her my wife. And thumper. I’ll never forgive myself. She was bringing a joy into this world. And I lost that joy. I couldn’t protect them. I feel like I don’t have the right to live!” His body raked with sobs as he sank to the floor. Baba following suit.

“It’s not your fault Ota. Stop blaming yourself. It was all Rin. And she payed back for what she did. Every single thing. Look at yourself. Do you think she would be happy seeing you like this? With you taking your life? And she wouldn’t blame you too because she loves you. She knows how kind you are deep down. And just so you know we’re all sad too. We loved her very much.” Baba rubbed Ota’s back while he let it all out.

“Thank you Baba. Really. For everything.”

“Oh well. Big brother baba helps everyone. Now come on. Get up. Get some sleep. I’ll be out in the lounge if you need me. Sounds good?” Baba asked to which Ota nodded. It was moments like these when Baba was more like a big brother to him. But with his help and the other auction managers, he managed to live through it.

He’d visit their graves every week twice. Took one of the guys with him sometimes. It would take a lot of time to get used to her not being around. But no one could ever take her place. She was the only he ever truly loved and he’ll forever cherish her till he met her again in another lifetime.

. . .

(I wasn’t really that familiar with Ota’s route bec i’ve only read his season one, five and six. But I know all about his personality. But there ya go I completed your request :)) Hope you like it!)

#ota kisaki #mitsunari baba #soryu oh #eisuke ichinomiya #mamoru kishi #kbtbb ota #kissed by the baddest bidder #kbtbb #voltage inc #love 365 #otome #otome romance

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nonfuntional-mallgoth · 4 years

Text

My Captive Pup (James March x Trans Male Reader)

Author’s Note: agsksh y’all this is literally just my guilty kink & main kink pushed together hope ya enjoy the horror

Warnings: male reader, could be considered dubcon but keep in mind: this is all fictional, he/him pronouns, sexually intimate situations, implied kidnapping, captive reader, trans male reader, cis male/gnc James, collars/chains, light puppy play, 69-ing

———————

You were groggy as always when you woke up. You weren’t sure why James still slid that powder into your treat before bed, but it did help you sleep soundly. You rubbed your eyes a little as you sat up in your soft, round bed, a yawn escaping you.

The bed was comfortable, but made sure you stayed in your place as a dog. It was large, plush, covered in thousand thread count sheets and the softest possible blankets. Your favorite stuffies were tucked in by the pillows, alongside your chew toys, designed for human-pup use. James only had the finest of things for you.

You fondly touched the thick, yet comfortable, leather collar around your throat. It did make you a bit sad he still locked it. You wouldn’t run away, you adored your little room! Not to mention how well you were treated. You were a very spoiled little puppy.

The collar connected to a metal chain bolted to the wall. When you were first brought in there were only four links of metal. You couldn’t leave the bed without permission, had no hope of doing anything without James. Now you had a much longer lead after a month or so of obedience, not that it took much discipline for you to behave.

You were most thankful that your new chain could easily reach the bathroom, and you didn’t have to ask anymore.

You pushed down the blankets, exposing your thinly covered body. You could of course wear anything you liked, but you chose a very soft sweatshirt and a high-end brand of boxer briefs. James allowed your binder when you needed it, but considering most days were spent lounging, sleeping, fucking... it wasn’t always nescasary or safe. Both you and him knew you were his sweet puppyboy.

You made your way to the bathroom and brushed your teeth, washed your face with cool water, and played around with your hair until it looked the way you wanted. You took a moment to stretch your legs and walked around the room, chain clinking quietly behind you. You paused at the record player, the bin beside it full of every album you had ever loved. You plucked out a well-loved old copy of something James had suggested to you, a collection of 20s swing music. You slid the record from its casing and were careful dropping the needle. You’d be devestated if you scratched the vinyl.

The music echoed gently off the old walls of your Cortez room, volume low but hauntingly soft as well. Your attention was only drawn from the instrumental by the lock on your door clicking open.

A small wiggle went through your body, as if you would wag your tail if you had it in. You knew who was behind the door, and despite it only having been a few hours, your heart was aching for him.

James stepped inside with a grin towards you. “Ah, you’re awakes already. I do hope I didn’t keep you waiting, pup.” He hummed, accent dripping thick like honey as he set his keys by the door where you couldn’t reach.

You shook your head, smiling big. “No, no not at all. I only got up a bit ago.”

He stepped forward and cupped your face, his hands heavy with the scent of washed-away iron. “Good. I’d hate for you to get impatient and do something brash.” He chuckled, planting a loving kiss on your forehead.

“I would never.” You teased in return, hands coming up to rest like paws against his chest.

He hummed quite fondly, brushing a hand through your hair and holding the back of your head in place. “Would my puppy like a morning treat? You have been oh so good lately, so patient while I work and slave away to keep you safe here.” He pressed his thumb into your lower lip, pulling it down to make you open your mouth for him.

You gave a slight groan as he controlled your movements. “P-Puppy would really like a treat, thank you, James...”

His eyes brightened when you used his name. He had instructed you to call him ‘master’ or ‘sir’ until you felt comfortable enough using his first name. This was a sign you truly did love the space, the life he had created just for you.

“Perfect. Be a good little thing, do just what I say. We’re going to try something new.” He purred, wrapping the chain coming from your neck around his hand.

Your heart lept as he led you back to your bed by your leash, the pressure of the collar on your throat enough to get you damp between the legs. He laid down on the bed fully, popping open the button on his trousers and undoing the zip painfully slow.

“Slide down your boxers, pup. Then you’re going to sit here.” He smirked and pointed to his own face.

Your face slowly flushed a deep shade of red as you nodded eagerly. You hooked your fingers into your boxers and pushed down down your thighs and to the ground. By the time you stepped out of them, James was holding his mostly limp cock in his own hand, eyes focused between your legs.

“Good dog.” He praised, rubbing his thumb along his shaft as his free hand gave your leash a firm tug. “Come here now, sweet boy.”

You gave a soft whimper when pulled forth so harshly, not that you didn’t like it. You walked close to him and climbed onto the bed, shifting to straddle your legs on either side of his head. He purred low and predatory as you laid down atop his body comfortably.

“So well behaved, so pretty.” He hummed, both hands moving to cup your ass and squeeze. “Take your time pup, but I expect you to take the whole thing if you want to be good.” His thumbs dipped into your folds, spreading them apart.

You could feel his breath on your hot, drippy entrance. “Y-Yes James, I wanna be good.” You mumbled out as your own hands moved to wrap around his thick cock.

He grunted and rubbed a finger agaisnt your tight little hole, lips pressing to your cheek affectionately. “Good boy, good pup.” He muttered as he rocked his hips up into your hands.

You opened up your mouth and ran your tongue along his slit, taking the head of his dick in your mouth and sucking gently. You wanted to start slow, really give James a show. You wiggled your butt in front of his face, only to feel his fingers dig harshly into the pudgy skin there to keep you still.

He pressed his face in more suddenly than you expected.

The wet tongue rubbed back and forth along your folds, slit, and tiny cock. He held your hips and ass tightly, kneading the muscle to keep you relaxed. He breathed heavy through his nose so his mouth could stay busy.

You moaned softly as you worked on starting to bob your head down further around his dick. You took in the first inch of six, tongue rubbing each vein as your eyes fluttered closed. You almost wished you could witness this from the third person, watch yourself getting tongue fucked with a cock down your throat.

James muttered muffled praise as you sucked him off so well, but was clearly busy with his own task. His thumbs slipped back down and both pushed inside of you before pulling outward. He spread you open like it was nothing. He growled loud at the sight of your soaking entrance. “That’s it, so perfect for me little puppy. You’re always perfect.” He moaned before spitting inside of you.

You whimpered loud as you tried to clench closed, with no luck of course thanks to his hands keeping you on display. You pushed down the next two inches of his dick, swallowing around him as you tried to suppress the gag you felt coming. You managed to do so, tongue swirling around his shaft slowly.

The noises James made were feral, animalistic. He was a very composed man until it came to you. His tongue plunged inside quick and he let you finally tense around the intrusion. He ran the wet muscle around every ridge and wall inside you, fucking it back and forth without warning or time to adjust.

The cry that left you was so weak but barely audible with the shaft so far in your mouth. You quickened you’re movements in an attempt to take him in all the way each time. You managed to bury your nose all the way down to his balls just as his tongue was pushing flush to your cervix. You had no idea how he got that far in, but it made your eyes roll back into your head.

His own growl was brutal and threatening as the thrusts of his tongue became almost violent. A strong hand slipped down to your belly, fingertips clawing down your happy trail to your sweet little cock. He pressed two slick covered fingers to it and rubbed in the way he knew would drive you crazy.

The sounds that filled the room were obscene.

James was teetering on the edge as he yanked your chain harshly, pulling you off his cock entirely. He pulled from your folds only to bite down hard on your cheek, growling loud. “Hands.” He commanded flatly.

Both your hands wrapped around his now soaked cock. Pre-cum and spit mixing together as they slid down all over him. You pumped fast and eager, mouth softly open and eyes winced closed as you knew how he wanted to finish.

However, you were his priority. You would be allowed to climax first, always.

His tongue flicked and moved back inside of you as his digits stroked your dick frantically. He grunted and groaned inside of you, vibrations reaching every inch of your wet walls. He swallowed down all the slick you granted him.

Orgasm hit you like a freight train.

You cried out weakly as your hips shuttered and bucked forward. Your slick cum slid all along his tongue and down to his face. Your movements on his cock got sloppy, but he loved it.

He came hard, thick white cum splattering over your mouth and face. He throbbed in your hands, twitching until you rubbed out the last drop. His dick slowly softened in your grasp as you planted heavy and shaky.

James slowly removed his tongue, his own breath labored as he chuckled low. He kissed your poor reddened folds and licked a long strip over them. He swallowed and licked clean all of your cum he could before his hands moved to your sides. He flipped you down on your back and sat up, leaning over you. He grabbed your chin harshly, tilting your head around to observe how his jizz dripped along your features.

He smiled as he watched you lick your lips clean and grin so shyly up at him. He leaned down and ran his tongue over your jaw and up your cheekbone, swallowing down some of his own cum. “What a good puppy you are. Well behaved, good listener. My good pup...” he purred sweetly, rubbing a hand back through your hair to massage your scalp. “How are you feeling?”

You hummed lazily and soft, hands reaching up to cup his face. “So good. Thank you, thank you so much, James.” You mumbled out with a weak, crackling voice.

He laughed softly and kissed your lips, salty cum in both your mouths. Neither of you cared. “I’ll clean you up, lay here for me. Be good.” He said a bit sternly as he got up and walked to the bathroom, plucking his trousers from the floor as he did.

When he came back he looked much cleaner than you. He must have washed up, rinsed his mouth and hands, put his trousers back on. He had a cool rag in his hand as he sat beside you, nudging your legs open. “You took your treat very well, just like a good pup should.” He praised as he wiped away the cum first from your face, and then your cock. “I can’t stay long today, will you be alright alone?”

“Mmhm, I’ll be fine.” You muttered with a light tone in your voice. “Was I good..?” You asked, even though you knew the answer.

He laughed softly and laid beside you once you were clean, rag set aside for now. He cupped your face and brought you in for a gentle kiss. “You were very good little puppy, so good. You know that, don’t you?”

You giggled tiredly and nodded. “I know m’a good puppy. Your good puppy.” You pressed a finger to James’ nose, effectively booping him.

He couldn’t help but grin wide when you did that. He grabbed your wrist and kissed your palm. “Of course you know.” He kissed up each finger. “Take a nap, sweet thing. I’ll have one of the staff bring you something for breakfast.”

You snickered a little, grinning big. “I already had breakfast.”

James rolled his eyes but kept his smile as he buried his face against the space just above your collar. “You are awful my darling.” He said with a slight growl as he nipped your skin.

You squealed dramatically when bitten but didn’t stop smiling. “Mean!”

He laughed and you found yourself doing the same. He pressed your heads together, laying with you for as long as he could until his responsibilities called him away from your side.

He would be back soon enough, with more treats for his little puppy.

#lemon #trans male #trans male reader #x reader #x male reader #james patrick march #jpm #ahs #american horror story

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a-collection-of-villainous-aus · 3 years

Text

COFFEE SHOP AU

Part four

Segment four

(continued on straight from segment three as this was too long to fit into one post)

Back in the present day of this Au now, Cruentus was in the kitchens, listening out for when Black Hat would finally leave the mourning museum, ears twitching as he heard the weight shift off the bed and shoes clacking up the wooden stair case that wound round in secret to his office, hmm he’d not sat at his desk, then no doubt he was sat on the windows ledge, the soft sound of a duvet being shifted and cushions being patted as he adjusted himself.

The old hellhound butler let out a relieved sigh, it was never good when Hat slept down there, he would be in a terrible mood for days when he did that, usually due to the reoccurring nightmare of Acylius….passing away in his arms like that.

Setting Hat’s tea on the tray along with a very late dinner, Cruentus was not about to complain he’d been grateful to have something to momentarily distract him, both of them were left shaken after seeing their loved one…to see him so full of life when the last image they’d seen bloodied and broken.

Cruentus wiped at his eyes, desperate to hold back his tears, not now he could cry later…not now…not now , he was on duty…he couldn’t think about how badly they’d hurt his son…about the little boy he’d adopted and rescued from that abusive monster.

Or how that little boy would panic if you tried to touch his face, that little boy who expected punishment if he was too loud or laughed, who forced himself to be quiet when he cried…

It was months before the bed wetting stopped he’d only found out because Acylius had tripped on the sheets one night accidently knocking something over when he was trying to put them in to wash, those large blue eyes looked so scared…it was that moment though when he’d held him and told Acylius it’s alright…that he wasn’t angry for the first time his son had cried…really cried and desperately held onto him.

How it was one winter’s day when Acylius had taken his hand, he recalled how small it was in his own as he looked up at him, shifting on his feet asking nervously

“Cru Cru…can I call you Papa?”

Yes he remembered it like it was yesterday.

From the moment Cruentus had adopted him, this baby had always been his pup, but to hear Acylius call him that, to have gained his trust after everything he’d been through…he knew that if anyone gained Lulu’s trust…made you a very special person to him.

A servant entered, working as assistant to Cruentus started humming a tune usually sung round this time of year only to be silenced as his masters bright yellow eyes glared at him, they appeared completely golden yellow, orbs of sunlight shining brightly.

The hellhound knight scrubbed his hands down is face, fuck, the hound inside of him was howling, it was hard to miss the light when it reflected off Jonathan’s glass surface.

Handing him the tray he growled

“Take this up to Lord Black Hat, apologize to him that I could not bring it, I need to rest.”

“But sir- I – I”

“Did I stutter Jonathan, now do your job!”

Cruentus barked before storming off.

UP IN THE HAT OFFICE

Amadeus was leaning against the office window, cheek pressed to the cool glass, I know there isn’t exactly a windowsill you can sit on in hats office in cannon but this story isn’t exactly cannon now is it?

Large comfy red velvet cushions were tucked behind his back, blanket now situated over his lap, Mew Mew loaf was no longer that tiny kitten he’d gifted him on their first Christmas, no now she was a grown Norwegian Forest, fluffy as anything and still demanded that she had a crimson bow at the back of her neck.

Mew was currently sleeping curled up beside him, small squeaks coming from her as she snored lightly.

He looked out over the darkness of his domain, where only a few lights pricked the buildings below as silver moonlight washed over shadows, his gaze focused on that sweet little coffee shop…

The park across the street from it…Acylius had never wanted statues or plaques, his tree was happy to be a foot note in history, but the Elderichts and older Legions, they remembered him, he’d helped to save them from being sewer rats and pets, he gave them back their name and the Legion’s freedom to decide to be free…

It was the Elderichts and the Legions who helped Amadeus to build it.

Cobblestone paths, trees that always blossoms frilly pink flowers in spring to rain down a flurry of petals in the gentle breeze, just as Acylius had always loved, a small coffee stand selling only the best (well second best now compared to Flugs) so the aroma would waft delicately amongst the scents of each season and in the middle, surrounded in a small black iron fence, it’s length at six ft seven exactly a patch of cornflowers and daffodils would grow when the season was right…that exact spot where Acylius had died in his arms.

For his Doctor to set up shop so close by was peculiar to say the least…but perhaps there was another reason…he wasn’t sure but he wondered if Acylius could see him looking down from his window.

Hat could see him clear as anything, blanket over his shoulders and just looking up at his mansion high upon the hill much like in Edward Scissor hands, ears wiggling and the cold weather turning his cheeks pink.

Hat smiled fondly, was his tree thinking of him affectionately even if he didn’t him in this life, he’d been about to wave meekly when Jonathan knocked, he turned his head telling them to enter, of course he was disappointed it wasn’t Cruentus, but if Cruentus had retired for the night it was usually for good reason…and considering today, that was more than enough.

The tray was set on the table that had now materialised beside Black Hat, clearly the servant was nervous around him, no matter how he tried to steady his hands, the items had still rattled lightly.

“Do you require anything else sir?”

Jonathan asked bowing his head.

“No, that will be all, you may leave.”

Hat answered plainly, waving his hand.

Acylius might have been sweet to all his workers, but he himself was more guarded than that, his softness was kept for those he loved and cared for.

Turning back he was disappointed to find Acylius was no longer at the window, kissing his finger tips he touched the glass where it covered over the sight of Flug’s room and whispered

“Goodnight my Tree, may you rest well.”

Unbeknownst to Hat, Acylius was already in bed, covers over his shoulder and quickly falling asleep, eyes heavy, the Legion demon swore he could feel the tender touch and hear those loving words, perhaps he was dreaming who knew but still he smiled and answered

“Pleasant dreams, my little Gremlin.”

End of pt four

#villainous #black hat #paperhat #villainous au #acylius flug #doctor flug #Coffee shop au #Present day #Ooc #Stuff

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stylishanachronism · 3 years

Note

Could I request either dialogue prompt 3 or 11 for whichever characters you feel like make them work?

lmao like a month later, here you go babe, thank you so much for the prompt. 3 was “I can’t see anything.” “Hold on I’ll set something on fire.”

“I can’t see anything.”

“Hold on, I’ll set something on fire.”

Alys sighs at him, but doesn’t protest, hiking Vela higher on her hip. She, he squints, just puts her thumb in her mouth, her other arm tight around Alys’ neck, wide-eyed and clingy to the point her mother can’t put her down, though she’s not looking so steady herself.

From the half sunk rowboat moored at the end of the rotting dock, this place hasn’t been occupied in years, but a little groping at a likely shadow gets him a crude torch, a replacement for the one mounted at the wall that never got used, better than the broken crate he was expecting.

“It seems awfully empty. Do you think he even came this way?”

“Nowhere else for him to go.” He clicks his sparker together, lucky that was still in his pocket, cursing under his breath as the damp rag won’t catch. She frowns, but not at his language; she’s squinting out into the dark herself, turning so Vela’s away from the stream, closer to the cave mouth.

“See something?”

“Mm. It might be nothing, but- Beodul?” She calls, to no response.

“Maybe it’s the locals.”

“I’m fairly certain the pirates left, dear.”

He clicks his sparker again, pressing it up against the resin this time, and the resulting bloom of light catches on steel, a skeleton wobbling towards them, still dressed in rags and rust.

“Looks like at least one of them didn’t.”

It’s a nasty little surprise, Alys accepting the torch as she backs away, but it comes apart at the barest swing of his sword, which is somewhat alarming, but better it be extra fragile than the other way around. Alys frowns at it, eyes going hazy in a way he doesn’t like for a moment, and then she’s ignoring it again, lifting the torch higher and peering down the passageway.

The sand’s too mussed to give any hint of which way Beodul went; there’s at least two more bodies, so to speak, in here, from the tracks on the floor, though if he had to put money on it the right fork looks like it’s seen more movement recently.

“Which way, do you think?”

He takes the torch back from her, not the smartest idea, given he’s the one with the sword, but he’s also taller, and it’s awful dark in here, and the extra reach shows what might very well be a boot print in the spill of sand ahead of them.

“Right.”

She lets him take the lead, murmuring to Vela in low tones, trying to coax her sweet again, at a guess, she’d never much liked the dark before all this shit happened, but she screamed when they tried to leave her behind, and Alys is just as clingy, considering, so it wasn’t like she resisted too hard, and he follows the bootprints as best he can, pausing at another fork. This place must be a misery when the tide comes in, given the rotting bridges everywhere, light from some distant crack in the roof enough for him to know they aren’t setting foot that way, that particular bridge well out, but there’s a passage ahead, and another squeezed between that one and the water, and nothing in the sand to say which one’s a better bet.

“Beodul?” Alys calls again, coming up to his elbow, free hand cupped around her mouth, and it’s hard to tell, what with the echoes, but he thinks the answering cry comes from ahead of them. It sounds pained, or at the least terrified, so with a quick glance at Alys, whose mouth has set in a grim line, clearly they’re thinking the same thing, he presses forwards, passing the torch back to her as he goes.

The skeleton that comes careening out of the dark is not Beodul, but it is wearing boots. A boot. Its friend has the other, its breastplate buckled in in a way that makes a frankly horrible noise every time it moves, the same noise that brought them this direction, he realizes, so at least if Beodul isn’t dead, he wasn’t screaming either.

It’s a trickier fight than the last, there’s two of them this time, and he can’t back up, or see much of anything, so it’s luck more than anything else that lets him shoulder one of them into the wall hard enough it crumbles before it can get past him. He catches a glimpse of Alys stomping its skull in from the corner of his eye, something about the way she moves unsettling and strange, but he doesn’t get a good look, and can’t spare the attention anyway, as the one in the breastplate, the one still standing, claws at his face. At least it doesn’t have a sword, like the other one did.

One of them is a simpler proposition, even though he still can’t see shit; he feints for its knees and then smashes its skull askew, ducks as it doesn’t give up and grabs at him again, and settles for doing some grabbing himself, hooking his fingers under its jawbone and yanking until it comes to pieces. Alys stumbles in his peripheral, Vela sliding off her hip with a wail, but they’ve both got their feet under them by the time the skeleton collapses into itself and he’s able to turn around.

Alys is chalky, what little color she’d regained well gone, the graze on her temple dark and sticky again, and she’s ice cold when he catches her chin to get a better look, but the torch is still steady in her hand, and it looks like she just moved too fast or something, since the graze is already clotting up again, so that’s something, at least.

“You’re alright?”

“Should be asking you that, Nineteen.”

Her smile’s more like a grimace, but it counts.

“I’m fine.”

She pulls away then, ducking to check on Vela, whose eyes are wet and whose lip is wobbling, but otherwise looks unharmed.

“Sweetheart?”

Vela bursts into tears, flinging her arms around her mother’s shoulders again and smearing her snotty face into her neck, Alys rocking back on her heels to catch her.

“Oh, my heart.”

He takes the torch back so she can gather the girl close, stroking her hair and murmuring to her as she cries, keeping watch.

“Do you want to go back to the beach? We have to stay and find Master Beodul, but I’d feel much better if you were safe outside.” She asks, cupping her cheek as her sniffles peter out. Safe… isn’t the word he’d use, between the wildlife and the fact she’d probably be the healthiest person at their little camp, for all she’s six years old, but it’s a tossup, considering what they’ve found in here so far.

“No!” She shakes her head vehemently, braids flying, and Alys gives him a helpless look.

“Vela—“

“No!!!”

She’s back near tears again, probably also on the verge of screaming her head off again, which is really the last thing they need, and Alys pulls her back against her shoulder, listening intently as her daughter sobs her way through her fears. He can’t actually understand what she’s saying, for the most part, though Alys is looking distinctly alarmed as it goes on, but he’s had the ‘what if Mama doesn’t wake up?’ discussion with her enough times over the last month he can guess the gist of it.

“Oh, Vela.” She sighs, when she starts crying too hard to speak. “Oh, my girl.” She cradles her head, stroking her thumb along the line of her skull. “Not even the gods know what might happen tomorrow, but I promise I will always do my best to come home to you.”

She gives him another look, cutting her eyes away behind him as she lifts her again, and yeah, if they have to settle Vela he doesn’t really like this spot to do it.

The skeletons came out of a sharp turn in the wall, opening into a small chamber, the main passage veering away to join the other one, he thinks, lining up the space in his head. If they died here, the evidence is long gone; from the waterline on the posts holding up the platform that covers most of the room, this place floods most every day, at least. It’s rotting like everything else in here, but it holds his weight when he tries it, and he’s half again as heavy as Alys and Vela together so that should be fine. This was where the previous occupants slept, if he had to make a guess, or maybe where whoever was in charge did their work, since there’s a table, mildewed papers strewn across it, and a rickety chair that amazingly doesn’t look like it’ll collapse into dust if he drops them in it, though he leans on it himself just to be sure, but it might have been something else, given the piles, probably once neatly organized, around the edges of the thing.

Vela has progressed into hiccuping by the time Alys sits down, looking highly dubious about the state of the platform and everything on it, settling Vela into her lap and holding her close as she starts to hum, and he leaves her to it, kicking through the mouldering treasures stacked along the wall of the platform instead. Most of it’s beyond salvaging; blackened paintings that tear at a breath, bolts of fine fabrics rotted into a single mass, sacks of what was probably grain gone to dirt, but there’s a little coin, a handful of jewelry, some deeply tarnished silver candlesticks, and the candles themselves are fine, poured beeswax tapers that were probably tied neatly into bundles at some point, but no longer, and at the back, half buried under the rest of it, a pile of something wrapped in sturdy oilcloth, miraculously preserved against the elements.

“Something interesting?” Alys comes to lean on him, Vela clearly feeling better, looking over his shoulder as he drags it out, and then her fingers tighten into his shirt as she gets a good look at it.

“You know what it is?”

She leans further forward, Vela, quiet again, squeezing between them to cling to his shirt too, and he can hear the smile in her voice as she starts listing it off.

“Three, no, four bolts of dyed wyrwool broadcloth from the Pearl Coast, out of a lot of two hundred, two bolts of violet from the Pales, out of a lot of ten, a special order for…. someone from the Republics, I don’t recognize the name, and a bolt each of samite and cloth-of-silver, from a Master Caligari’s workshop in Old Valia, from the same order.”

“How do you figure that?” She’s a Watcher, sure, but no mind hunter, and this is a bit of a stretch.

“Aelere’s always been thorough. And you ought to recognize Aloth’s spellwork, honestly.”

He leans forward, careful, and yeah, now that he’s looking it’s familiar, not that he could have placed it, but she seems certain, except-

“Aelere?”

“My cousin. I’ve not gone mad, stop fretting.” She stands up again, tugging Vela away so he can get to his feet as well.

“How’d Aloth get involved, then?”

“He had a very expensive education, and he’s good at this sort of thing; she probably bullied him into it on one of his visits.”

“Like you bullied him about the rations?”

“That was just common sense. He needed to eat too, so he might as well have gone to the effort.”

The second he’s standing, Vela’s back to clinging, one hand fisted in his shirt, the other tight in her mother’s skirts, like the minute she couldn’t see him’s convinced her he’ll up and vanish on her, which is not going to be doable once they’re out of this nook. Which. On the off hand, he’d really like to find Beodul and get the Hel out of here before anything else happens, but Alys sitting down for a longer spell is probably a better idea, she’s still an icon of Berath, but breathing, and they really ought to see if there’s anything left in those papers, maybe get an idea of what the Hel even happened in here before they run headlong into it. Given her luck he wouldn’t even be surprised by a dragon somewhere in this mess.

“I don’t think a dragon could get in here, Edér.” She sighs, letting him shuffle them back to the table, clearly having read the look on his face. Vela’s brows draw together, but her eyes aren’t wet, good, so she’s probably thinking about her little friends, who won’t be too big to fit anywhere until the rest of them were all long dead and gone.

“Not the kittens, my heart.” Alys agrees, dropping back into the chair and peeling open the logbook set pride of place in front of her, wafting a dirty, vegetablely scent that makes Vela scrunch her nose and press closer to him. He snags a scrap of parchment for himself, pinned to the desk with a pitted, rusty eating knife; wasteful, that, the point would’ve never been the same even before whatever the Hel went down happened. The handwriting’s atrocious, even without the bleed, and the mildew’s not helping any neither, but the gist of it seems to be somebody was pissed and proper worried about something the headman, whatever they called him, had bought as added security, plus the fact that they apparently don’t have an Aloth to hand to keep the tides from wrecking everything.

“Ah.”

“Ah?”

“Well, if we’re lucky, the construct our friend from the storm picked up somewhere will have rusted to pieces.”

So this was that asshole’s stomping grounds. Whatever guilt he might have felt over making off with what wasn’t already destroyed dissolves instantly.

“I don’t know why he picked it up, he was already behind on his taxes and those aren’t cheap to maintain, or easy to control, for that matter.” She wrinkles her nose, probably thinking about the little animat they’d picked up all those years ago, probably still kicking under the rubble of the house. That thing was tough as nails, but clearly this is a different beast.

“Pirates don’t pay taxes.” At least, he’s pretty sure they don’t pay taxes, given the whole ‘outside of the law’ bit.

“Tithes to the Principi council, who mostly use it to maintain their little fort as I understand it. Same thing really. In any case he was well behind on them.” She frowns at his accounting, the wet really hasn’t improved the state of that asshole’s books, then closes it again and pushes it away.

It might just be the torchlight, but it looks like she’s got a little color back when she glances up at him, eyes flickering between the parchment in his hand and his face, and he drops it back on the table.

“Construct probably killed everyone in here, somebody was complaining about it ‘giving them the eye’, best as I can guess. If we see crystals, keep an eye out, apparently it liked them.”

“Adra, not crystals, if I had to guess. I’m no animancer, but I’ve never encountered a construct with a particularly stable or well anchored soul.“

She accepts his hand back up, leaning into his shoulder when she sways on her feet, and honestly he doesn’t know how she’s still standing. She was asleep for a long time, and then the fight, and then the storm, and then they all escaped drowning by the skin of their teeth, and now this shit. She gives him a dry look as she steps away, mouth twisting, but doesn’t say anything, taking the torch back again and tugging Vela to follow, though she scowls and doesn’t let go of his shirt.

“I’m fine, Edér.” She says eventually, leading them back into the tunnel.

“You aren’t, but nothing we can do about that now.”

They make a funny little parade, Alys leading though she ought to be behind him, Vela clutching at them both with a grim determination that would be cute in any other circumstance, and he never liked any of this to begin with but he likes it less now. Hopefully they’ll find Beodul and get the Hel out of here before anything else happens, they’ve got to be running out of cavern if the map he’s put together in his head’s any good.

It’s a little drier, as they get further in, the tunnel sloping up just enough to let things dry out a smidge, which only serves to make the sand slippery, exactly what they needed right now.

The gleam of adra gets him by surprise, knocking him out of his grumbly thoughts as they come around another corner, this time into a proper cavern, and this must be where those assholes lived, not the little one, he can see the remains of a couple of hammocks tangled up with a pile of bones that’s not trying to kill them, heaped up near the dull, dead stone. It’s somehow creepier than the live stuff, sort of empty and shadowed, and really, he hasn’t liked any of this, but this is the last straw. A quick glance says Beodul’s not in here either, and even if there might be information they can come back for it, it’s not like it can end up in worse condition, so he chivvies them towards the tunnel leading out again; it should loop around to meet up with that broken bridge they saw earlier, which now that he thinks about it seems like it might have been Beodul’s doing, so if he’s anywhere, he’ll be there.

They almost make it out. They’re steps from the exit when Alys slips, windmilling back as her legs go out from under her, and what he’d taken for a particularly salty pile of rocks scrapes itself to its feet, lumbering at them faster than they can get past it.

Alys scrambles backwards, the torch flying out of her hand as she grabs Vela and drags her away, and its all he can do not to trip over her himself, doing an awkward little hop that just means when the thing swings at him it’s all he can do to duck, a broken edge on its arm drawing a line of fire across his shoulder, but his shirt doesn’t tear so it can’t be that bad, and he spares a thought for that old door, probably still leaning up against the wall in his cottage, where it does them all a fuck lot of good, as he dodges away from the girls, trying to keep its attention.

It’s limping, for lack of a better word, something wrecked in one of its legs, what he’d taken for salt more like mold, great holes eaten away in its shell, and despite that it’s still faster than he’d like, with more reach, and a sword is not the thing to be fighting it with, but it’s all he’s got so it’ll have to suffice.

The first swing just clatters off it, getting its attention well enough but not actually doing anything, and he has to dodge again as it swings its other arm at him, but the second catches one of those moldy patches and punches straight through, overbalancing him, and it, fortunately, though it nearly takes the sword right out of his hand, and then Alys is singing, whipping the memory of this place into something tangible, and the bones huddled near the adra pull themselves into the semblance of whoever they were before they died.

They, whoever they were, had a gun in life, which is also less than ideal, but it lets him swing around behind the thing and kick another of the moldy patches in, the machinery inside grinding out little sparks where bits of it have rusted nearly together, and the delicate little lattice of adra and copper looks important, so he swings at that, misses, has to back away as it decides he’s a better target than the person it already killed, and Alys makes a horrible, breathless noise and the lattice explodes in a flash of light that leaves purple-green-gold spots in his vision.

There’s a finality to the way the thing crashes back to the floor, solidified when it doesn’t try to get up again, but he doesn’t have time to do more than kick it’s innards away, because Vela is screaming, for real this time. Alys is crumpled on the ground, and for a long, heart-stopping second he thinks this is it, whatever it was she did finally killed her, gods, why did they even come in here, and then she’s scrabbling at the floor, trying to heave herself back up as Vela shrieks in denial, patting at her shoulder as the closest thing to hand.

He has no memory of crossing the cavern back to them, it happens so fast, going to his knees and hauling her to hers, Vela darting under her mother’s arm as soon as she properly reaches for her. She’s lost all color, for true this time, the blood in the whites of her eyes not helping that impression any, staring out into the dark in a way that’d make all his hair stand on end if it wasn’t doing that already. The soft, greenish glow of the adra isn’t helping any, painting everything in sickly shades of grey with the help of the still guttering torch, the blood in her eyes and on her face, nose and temple and her lip is split, to boot, black in the dimness, pupils blown to pits, and she’s breathing like she can’t get any air in her lungs.

“Alys? Alys?”

“Mama!!”

Alys chokes, gasping, and then gives up on talking and flings her arm around his shoulders, fisting her hand in his shirt with an unpleasant squish, dragging Vela to her breast, and starts to cry.

#thank you for meming me!!!#pillars of eternity #risualto #my fic #I got stuck on literally one transition sentence whoops #and then my brain tried to kill me #but on the bright side I got rid of most of the extraneous touching if not the emotional whiplash #look I write precisely two things and neither of them well #and those two things are academic papers and romance novels #touching is a really great shorthand to build chemistry of any sort so I tend to put a lot of it in without realizing #if you hadn't noticed I have extremely detailed headcanons about some really wild shit here you go #this touches on tax law practical wizadry international commerce education and medical care among other things #also bronze disease can't forget the bronze disease #this was supposed to be ~5 lines of a joke about skeletons and now look where we are #related since I know this wasn't clear: both Alys and Vela are reading Eder's mind #but not a one of them realizes it because Alys wasn't given to ciphering before and Vela is a baby #and Eder is canonically Not Great about keeping his thoughts in his own head #look I've got an extensive vaugely scientific thing re: how much soul fits eothas' uh filter #which is a whole thing I won't get into right now #and also if you don't think the image of infant Vela plus the wurmlings curled up in a basket together is the cutest thing...#wurms are baby dragons; wurms form little flocks to keep each other alive when they're small; Vela was also a baby;wurms aren't very smart #therefore yes as far as the wurmlings are concerned Vela is also a wurmling #also yes this just sort of ends I had a real ending but yeah that transition sentence bit me and I was tired of the whole mess #if I ever like edit this properly I'll append it

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soursitrus · 4 years

Note

can you do 17 and 45 for hitoshi? btw i love this blog so much!!

I loved writing this! Thank you so much for the ask and the support! I hope you like it! ~ Cassidy

Word Count: 1.2K+

17. “Do I look like I’ve moved on?”

45. “What are we?”

What Are We?

You usually spent evenings after work relaxing with a book, but tonight was different. It was pouring outside, the thunder crashing every few minutes. The noise had long since sent your cat into hiding, and if you were small enough to fit under the bed, you’d be there, too. You hated storms. You had your favorite tv show on to try to distract you, but you were nearly shaking.

A knock at your door almost made you scream. Almost. You stood up, however, wrapping a blanket around you as if it would protect you, and headed to the door. Peaking out the peep-hole, you saw – fuck.

What the fuck was he doing there? At 9 on a work night, no less. You had half a mind to not even open the door, but it was raining, and he was soaked, and your god-damn heartstrings pulled at that.

You swung the door open violently. “What are you doing here?” you demanded, ushering him in.

His hair was soaked to a dark shade of indigo, and his jacket clung to his frame. He looked pitiful, and, you hated to admit, adorable, like a wet kitten. Your heart tugged again. You weren’t going to let him know that, though.

Steeling your gaze, you made eye contact, silently urging him to respond.

“I – I don’t really know,” he said, uncharacteristically sheepish.

You quirked an eyebrow. Here he was reopening barely-healed wounds, and he didn’t even know why?

“Well, if it was just because you wanted to go for a nice walk, you chose a bad time. Should I get you an Uber?” you snarked.

He flinched at your harshness.

You scoffed. “Really, Hitoshi? You come to my apartment, late, with no explanation, and you expect me to be nice? It’s been two weeks. Haven’t you moved on?”

It wasn’t like you had. It’d been two weeks since he had torn your heart right out of your chest and stomped on it with his steel-toed boot. You’d never felt such pain. You had been together a mere six months, but it had been the best six months of your life. You’d thought it had been the same for him, too. You thought you were both happily in love. In fact, you’d thought he might propose sometime soon. Wishful thinking. Instead he’d told you he “needed space” and asked for an “indefinite break.” You had no choice but to oblige.

He waited a moment before responding, taking in a shaky breath.

“Do I look like I’ve moved on?” he asked, staring directly at you. His eyes bore into you, but only for a moment before he tore his gaze away.

Looking at the ground, he spoke. “Please, Y/N, I fucked up.”

You were livid. If he thought he could waltz in here and fix everything with just a few words, he was sorely mistaken. You’d been in agony the past two weeks. You loved him more than you’d thought possible, and he’d thrown that away. He had a lot of making up to do if he wanted you back.

You were about to bite back a retort when the thunder clapped directly overhead, making you shriek. Instantly, Shinsou had you in his arms. He’d always been fast.

His arms felt like home, wet though they were. He was freezing, though, and some part of you wished to take care of him. You wanted to strangle that part.

You struggled in his grasp, but he was much stronger than you. He held you tightly until you gave up and sunk into his chest. You could feel him looking down at you, but looking back up at him scared you. One look from him like this and you’d be done for. The longer you sat in his arms, though, the more comfortable you were getting. You had to look up and deal with whatever you saw in his eyes, just for him to let you go.

You peered up at him, your eyes meeting his, and what you saw confirmed your fears. You saw everything you wanted to see. You saw love, and it gave you a terrible hope. Hope that he’d heal every last weeping wound in your heart that he’d left not so long ago. Hope that he’d hold you in his arms like this all the time again. Hope that he’d be yours again, and you his. A terrible, heart-wrenching hope for the love that still ached in your chest.

He gave you a sad smile. “I’ve missed you,” he stated, as if all of this was simple. As if his grin could take away any bitterness you had towards him. You inwardly cursed yourself because he was right.

You didn’t allow yourself to respond to him, still trying to steel yourself from his effect, but you continued to look up at him. That was a mistake. Slowly, he pressed his lips to yours. It was a simple kiss, but it made you feel a million things. Joy, because the love of your life was here, and he kissed you. Sadness, because that could easily be the last kiss you ever share. Anger, because –

“What the absolute fuck are you doing?!” you cried, finally shoving him hard enough to push him away. He was caught off-guard. He must have thought you were on board with his kiss. Part of you was, but the rest of you was still fuming.

“I – I –” he stuttered. “I’m sorry, I thought we – I thought we were…”

“What, Hitoshi? What are we? Because last I knew, we were broken up,” you seethed.

You were tearing into him, you could see it. It’s not like you wanted to, it was just payback for what he’d done to you. He couldn’t have been feeling half of what you felt. Ultimately, though, hurting him hurt you, too. You could see tears forming in his eyes, and it was breaking your hard exterior.

“Answer me,” you demanded. “What are we?”

His voice shook as he spoke. “What do you want to be?”

Slowly, he inched back towards you. You stared at the ground as his shoes got closer. You didn’t push him away.

There were tears forming in your eyes now, too. As he wrapped you in his arms again, you sniffled, and then began sobbing. You were so angry, so hurt. Yet you knew what you wanted. You wanted him. Was that ever a question?

Instead of responding, you sunk into his chest again, relishing in the way he felt around you. He pet your hair as you cried. When he spoke, his voice was ragged. You knew he, too, was crying.

“Shh, baby, it’s okay.”

It was slow, but you calmed yourself down after a bit. He’d stopped crying long before you, but had continued to hold you and pet your hair. Your clothes were soaked now, too, but you didn’t care. When he knew you were calm, he pulled back, placing his hands on your shoulders as he looked at you.

“I fucked up, Y/N. I love you. I’m so sorry.” He took a breath, and you gazed up at him. “We can be whatever you want to be. Just, please, consider it.”

It was your turn to give him a sad smile. “I don’t need to consider it, Hitoshi.”

You let it sink in for a moment before proceeding. “I love you, too. Now, can we please get changed?”

He laughed lightly, leaning down to press another kiss to your lips, and then to your forehead. “We can do whatever you want.”

#mha fanfiction #bnha fanfiction #shinsou hitoshi #shinsou x reader #bnha x reader #anon request

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siriiusblaack · 3 years

Text

in memorium.

“I’m sorry it took me so long... I... didn’t know what to say.”

AUGUST 1981

It had taken Sirius one month. One whole month before he had found the courage to say goodbye. The funeral might have been weeks ago but that hadn’t felt like a goodbye. That had simply been a day of remembering for himself and his friends. A day when Lily Evans and Dorcas Meadowes had mourned the loss of one of their best friends and Sirius Black cried for the love of his life who he could no longer hold the way he once could.

Marlene McKinnon, the only girl he had ever loved. Once someone full of life, the loudest person in the room, the one that made him laugh the most. Now? Nothing. She was nothing but another casualty, another number and Sirius felt the emptiness in his heart.

But he wanted time alone with her. The train to Durham from London was... long. He hadn’t told anyone where he was going and for how long for, not even James or Remus, he wanted some time to be by himself. To think. To mourn. He’d chosen the train as opposed to merely apparating there to prolong the journey. To not be faced with it so quickly, give him time.

So there he stood in the rain, his hair soaking wet, his beard overgrown and his eyes tired. He’d cried an ocean in the past month, yet it felt so never ending. This was a funeral for one. He stared at her headstone, Here lies Marlene McKinnon... rest in peace. and nothing felt more wrong than this. Marlene McKinnon wasn’t still, she didn’t lay anywhere. She most certainly was not peaceful.

She was a beautiful chaos.

“I’m sorry it took me so long... I... didn’t know what to say.” He began, looking down for a moment and shaking his head. The tears already flowed. “.. I... I know you’d hate me for not showing up, I just...”

Sirius let out a harsh blow of air, his hand running over his mouth after. He had been the one to find the McKinnons that night in their home. An entire family wiped out... just like that. No survivors. From that point, Sirius had spiralled, unable to move on from the images he had seen that day, how he’d held onto her body for hours and screamed her name over and over. He trusted no one, he spoke to no one, he just drowned himself away.

“You’d probably call me pathetic right now, seeing m-me cry like this...” He continued in a mumble, “But fuck, why’d you do this to me Marley?!” He suddenly cried, pacing back and forth. He felt like he was going insane. “I feel like I’m dead beside you and I h-haven’t even died.” He sobbed. His fingertips fell to the neckline of his jumper, moving around for something. A chain.

Pulling it out, Sirius revealed a simple chain with a simple gold ring hanging on it. “... R-remember how we used to take the piss outta Jay and Lily for getting married so young?” Sirius swallowed a lot of air, glancing down at the piece of jewellery, “Didn’t sound like a half bad idea sometimes....”

“... Wait for me, won’t you?”

MAY, 1996

15 years had passed. Wounds still felt fresh. Sirius stood in the exact same place he’d been stood all those years back. But things seemed a little different. He was older, his beard was different -- was that speck of grey hair in his perfect locks? He was only thirty-six. He seemed to smiling this time.

“Don’t kill me... I know it’s been years since I was last here, but... I was slightly preoccupied.” He attempted to make light of an incredibly dark situation. Being locked away in Azkaban for years for crimes he didn’t commit, only to be released into a world suddenly looking rather similar to the way it did back in the 70s. “Look at me, huh? All old. At least you’re still young.”

His smile wavered for a moment. Sirius had never considered love after Marlene had died. There simply wasn’t the option for it without her. He felt more whole knowing his heart forever remained true to her, than if he even tried to find romance again. That was enough for him. “I’m getting that same feeling again, Marls... the way we felt when we were kids? It’s back. He’s back, stupid prick...”

In true fashion, Sirius and Marlene had often referred to the Dark Lord as a variety of childish names back in their youth. It was one of the many small ways to cope and smile in uncertain times. The said tradition continued to this day. “... I don’t know what’ll become of me this time around, life has a fun way of throwing the worst possible outcome at me in times like this, but hey, what’s worse than Azkaban?” He laughed.

The lack of response killed him.

”... But I think if there’s one thing all those years locked up taught me, it’s... don’t ignore those gut feelings. Follow through with whatever the hell you want to do, ‘cause you never know when your time’s over.” Sighing, the man mimicked his actions from when he’d been just twenty-one. He pulled out the chain and untied it from his neck, pulling the ring into his hand.

“... This is for us, for all those years we never got, to make twenty year old me smile and hopefully, make twenty year old you smile too. I was always good at that.” Chuckling, the man got on one knee, his empty hand running delicately over her headstone.

“Marlene McKinnon, you perfect pain the arse, my beautiful chaos... will you marry me?”

Sirius felt yet again, tears roll down his cheeks. But this time they were tears of laughter and closure, fulfilling the request he should have done before time had ran out all those years back. Pausing for a moment, he leaned into, and carefully dug the ring into the ground, covering it up after. Placing it on her finger, so to speak.

“Merlin, I hope you said yes.”

#solo

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