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honeydazai · 2 years

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Tighnari -> breeding

content: nsfw, breeding kink, praise, mentions of pregnancy and creampies, Tighnari has a knot | reblogs & comments appreciated!

~0,7k words | kinktober masterlist

Tighnari was a gentle lover.

He was attentive and kind, always aware of what exactly you needed when you needed it; the pace with which he fucked you with was usually slow and deep. Sensual.

He liked to press his lips just below your jaw whenever he pushed into you, pressing loving kisses to your skin until he had bottomed out, and he made sure to make you cum at least once before he took you properly.

He had each of your preferences memorised perfectly; he knew whether you preferred him to lick or suck at your clit, whether you enjoyed having your nipples played with or not, and he never failed to make you absolutely lose your mind in pleasure, all your muscles turning to jelly.

Tighnari was a gentle lover, until he suddenly wasn't.

Unaware, dare you say naïve, as you were, you hadn't known about ruts, though they appeared to be quite a big deal if the way Tighnari was currently pounding into you was anything to go by.

His narrow hips slapped against your own, his nails were digging into the soft skin of your waist and you cried out sharply at a particularly hard thrust.

Your back arched off the bed, your eyes fluttered closed, and, God, you were almost sure that the head of Tighnari's dick was hitting against your cervix with how deep he was, with how full you felt.

“So good for me, aren't you?” His voice was raspy, lower than usual, and it sent a shiver up your spine. “God, you feel fucking perfect around me, so hot and tight. You're such a good girl.”

The praise earned him a needy moan from you, the noise high-pitched, and you couldn't help but clench around him. The sudden tightness caused both of you to groan.

“You're so pretty like this.” Tighnari's breath was warm against your neck; suddenly, he reached down to feather his thumb over your clit, and you whined, the noise breathy. “Gorgeous, really. And you'll be even more stunning after I've filled you up.”

Without even meaning to, you tightened around him, wet walls pulsing as heat rose to your cheeks because of words. This really wasn't something you had ever imagined but, suddenly, you found yourself unable to think of anything but him filling you, getting you pregnant.

Tighnari's chuckle had a mocking tone to it. “Oh? Seems you liked that, didn't you? Is that what you want, love?” A grunt as he pushed into you again. “For me to fill you up until you're dripping with my cum? For me to breed you?”

You whined in response, the noise utterly needy. Sweat dripped down your neck, arousal coiled heavily in your abdomen, and everything felt so damn hot — your clit was throbbing, your lips open as more high-pitched sounds fell from them. “Please—”

“So you do?” Tighnari huffed out a laugh, though his grip on your hips tightened. His next thrust had you all but keening; your sight blurred when, suddenly, your orgasm crashed over you without a warning. The constant stimulation of your clit was overwhelming. “That's cute, darling. I'll just do that then.”

Pain and pleasure mashed together into one confusing emotion as Tighnari kept fucking you through your orgasm, his pace unrelenting; you whimpered pathetically as your wet walls pulsed around his cock, all but sucking him in despite the dull ache in your abdomen.

“Please”, you eventually choked out, though forming coherent words seemed like a herculean task right now, “Please, Tighnari, fuck—, want you to knock me up, please.”

You moaned as your words made his dick twitch inside of you, and your thighs trembled when liquid warmth filled you up moments later, his dick growing in width and, oh—, the sensation of your cunt being stretched even wider was overwhelming, indescribable, and tears welled up in your eyes before you knew it.

“Ah. I forgot to tell you about the knot, didn't I?” Tighnari's smirk was cheeky, his ears twitching. You merely whimpered in response. “Just be glad for the brief break you're getting. Once it goes down, I'll take you again and again.”

Your cheeks seemed to grow impossibly more hot as he leaned down, green eyes sparkling with mirth. “After all, we want to make sure it really takes, right? We'll have to go for quite some more rounds if you really want to end up pregnant. But don't you worry, love. I'll breed you properly.”

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bearw-me · 27 days

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Hiiii!!! Would you mind doing headcannons / a fanfic where Husk has a crush on the reader and one day they ask him if they could cover being a bartender for a while to give him a small break (and to chat with Angel Dust and Cherri Bomb bc they are sitting at the bar too) and he agrees, not thinking that they would actually be able to make any drink or anything, but they actually end up being a phenomenal bartender (yet has never told or shown anyone until now), and it make him flustered as he has an even bigger crush on them now (which he thought was literally impossible). Thank youuuu!!!! 💖💖💖 (Also I love ur work 💖✨)

I cant describe in words how your request made me feel lmao! and thank you so much! ( i could talk about this dynamic all day ♡♡♡

𝐀 𝐅𝐞𝐰 𝐓𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐬 𝐔𝐩 𝐌𝐲 𝐒𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐯𝐞

𐐒 includes : husk x gender neutral! reader, cherri bomb, angel dust 𐐒 cw : drinking/mentions of drinking, swearing, fluff, mutual pining, reader and husk are flirting so hard smh 𐐒 summary : Husk could use a break from the bar, so you offer to take up the job for the rest of the night! 𐐒 word count : 1.7 k 𐐒 note : ah, husk + his drinks (guys! husk! with a bartender! is!) my heart is liquid now

The night sure was lively now that Angel Dust and Cherri Bomb came (literally) crashing through the front door.

You smiled, resting your head in your hands as you watched the two from the end of the bar. "Those two must be a handful for you," you teased, letting your eyes flit over to the grumpy old cat you adored.

He managed a smile, glancing over at the two who were downing shots like tomorrow didn't exist. "Yes they are," he mumbled.

"So why'd you come over here Whiskers? You know I'm still working on my drink."

"You know I gotta keep my customer's satisfied," his voice teased back- just as smooth as the whiskey he poured- how charming, you thought. "Can't leave you here all by yourself."

You nodded, feeling a blush creep over the tips of your ears and nose.

Although, you couldn't help but notice. . .

Husk, the charming gambling cat who bartended for the hotel, a cat you could've sworn- or hoped- wanted your attention most nights. . . stared at the pair across the bars edge with a tired eye.

You quietly followed his gaze, humming as you pondered the next move.

"Why don't you pour yourself a drink? On me," you slid your card over the polished wood, only to be stopped as soon as it hit the edge of the bar. Husk's fingers pushing gently against yours.

"It's bad luck for a bartender to drink on the job."

"Is that so? Sounds like superstition," you teased, sadly tucking the card into your pocket.

Doesn't usually stop him from doing it, you moped.

"Hey baby! You can buy me a drink, no strings of course!" Angel called over to you, bringing shameless attention to his chest and biting his lip.

The bar laughed with him, spirits deliciously high tonight now that the couple had joined.

You were glad for the change of pace, "You know what?" You pulled the card out again, raising three fingers so that Husk knew how much to pour "I will buy you that drink Angel."

Cherri and Angel celebrated by downing a shot each, the young overlord herself yelling into the air with glee at the score.

Your gaze lingered over to the two, the sounds of vodka and juice being poured next to you. "Husk?" you asked, not really turning to look at him.

"What's on your mind?"

You waited until the sounds of pouring stopped, little freckles of juice sticking to your hand. . . then you turned to him, a little unsure in what you were asking "This drinks for you."

With a gentle hand, you tried to stop him from sliding it over to you, and responded just as fast as his denial "Let me run the bar for the rest of the night!"

His confusion morphed into the classic doubtful Husk you knew: always keeping his guard up.

"Oh really," he rasped, leaning over the bar to hover right next to your face.

Maybe he was trying to intimidate you, or try to see through you. . . but you tried not to flinch at the challenge, watching his dark eyes narrow "And what do you get out of this?"

You shrugged, a dumb smile popping onto your lips "Time to sober up? How hard could it be?" you purred, relishing in the fact that Husk had recoiled from you.

Sitting across the bar, head cradled in your hands, smirking at him.

He sighed, letting his eyes roll "Alright, fine but-"

Before his sentence even finished, you were right next to him at the back of the bar, staring with a pep in your step at all of the liquors, juices, and garnishes he actually had back here.

"Hey I didn't say you could-"

"Sorry Husk," you pushed him out of the area, feeling a little unwelcome or foreign on this side of the bar.

I mean, you both did, but it wasn't an entirely bad feeling-yet.

"Heyy, the old kitty came to play with us!" Cherri teased, watching as Husk awkwardly took a seat next to the two.

"Finally!" Angel groaned, throwing an arm over Husk and pulling him into the fun.

"On second thought, I don't think this was a good idea," Husk unfurled himself from Angel's grasp.

"Come on Husk, you deserve a break!" Angel insisted.

"Yes! Here are the shots!" You laid the three previously poured shots onto the countertop, eagerly watching as Cherri and Angel picked theirs up, waiting for Husk to join them.

The old cat eyed the shot, the red liquid glimmering quite nicely against the bars wood-top, and back the the pair of smiling faces that awaited him "Fuck it, I could use a drink."

When he smiled, you felt it like your own, proudly watching as the unlikely trio threw the drinks back with a hiss.

"So, what'll it be guys?"

Cherri sighed, slinking over the bar with a devilish grin "Hate 'ta hound ya on your first day, but what can you make?"

You shrugged, the confidence of being behind the bar (and the previous drink you had) voiding any concerns or anxieties you would've had. "What kind of drinks were you thinking?"

"More fucking shots bitch!"

You smiled "Dirty hookers, jagerbombs, lemon drop shots. . . maybe a kamikaze?"

"Oh~" Cherri put a hand on her chest, feigning flattery, "Fucking all of 'em! And throw in a few snake bites for me!"

"Just the dirty hookers for me, doll."

The pair of deviants giggled, marveling at the bars newest bartender and talking to each other whilst you familiarized yourself with Husks' bar.

He keeps it well stocked, you thought. Speaking of which. . .

As you rummaged around for the appropriate bottles, you could feel a familiar burning at the back of your neck.

Husk was staring at you.

You blushed, trying not to make eye contact by busying yourself with this new found task. "What's with the face, Whiskers?"

You heard him grunt, "What was that?"

"What was what?"

"You an alcoholic or something?" he clarified, the sound of him running his empty shot glass against the table lying underneath Cherri and Angel's conversation.

You hummed, not really answering until you had everything set on the bar. Five shot glasses on either side, you took the two bottles in hand flipping them upside down with a smile.

The three watched with amusement as you flipped one bottle high up, counting in your head the number of ounces you were pouring with the other while catching the bottle just in time.

Husks stomach was doing flips, watching on with a mix of anxiety that you'd break something (or god forbid hurt yourself) and the fact that you were actually. . . laughing.

The alcohol in your hands, whiskey, rum, vodka- anything- flying between your hands with the debonaire smile on your face.

Every movement, every flip, every spin. It all looked-

Husk caught himself, throwing his gaze to the side and moping. Trying hard not to think about anything.

"Here you go!" You slid the shots over to the pair, sure that it'd keep them busy for a while. . . or at least a few minutes.

"So what'll it be, boss?" You leaned over the counter, solely focused on him now, with that smug smile on your face. . . or maybe you were still a little tipsy.

"Boss?"

"Sure," you shrugged "Your gonna pay me after right?" You laughed when his face dropped, assuring him it was a joke. "Come on Husk, its time for you to be served for once, what kind of drink do you want?"

He seemed to freeze, the little pieces of fur on the back of his neck standing up like he was full of static. "Anything, I just need a drink," he said honestly.

Back to the same tired Husk, you smiled, chest filled with warmth. He looked, or he seemed. . . well you didn't actually know. Did he like that you were behind the bar?

You grabbed him a bottle of beer, easily wrenching the bottle cap off with the metal opener.

Husk took it into his hands faster than you could set it on the bar, tipping the bottle back so far that the dark green glass shone in the hotels light.

"I guessed you really could've used that drink," you sighed, feeling a little guilty for not doing him this favor sooner.

"Chug! Chug! Chug!" Angel and Cherri caught on as Husk nursed his bottle to almost empty.

You smiled, albeit a little bittersweetly, and turned back to the bar in order to make him something you figured he'd like to try.

With new found 'confidence', Husk blearily eyed your back, a sinking, fluttery feeling growing in the pit of his stomach. Watching you clean the glasses, something he did all the time, it looked. . . magnificent when you did it.

The night continued without a hitch.

You watched from behind the bar as the three laughed. Yes, Husk was laughing, bottle in hand and letting Angel Dust push him around playfully, daring the two of them to come gamble with him sometime.

It filled your heart completely, he looked really good with a smile on his face. . . And every now and then you'd catch him staring at you, almost as if he were proud.

To be fair, the thought almost made you fumble a cocktail you were making for Angel Dust.

"You know, your pretty good at this," he complimented you, in that glorious drunken heaven he was in. The quiet purrs coming from him was enough to convince you of that.

"Here," you offered, sliding a small silver tray with two shots and limes on it his way "on me."

He chuckled, a deep rumbling sound as fine as the drinks he served you. "No, I couldn't drink two-"

"This one's for me," you pointed, taking the slim glass between your fingers.

"Drinking on the job is bad luck," he slurred.

"Are you kidding me? This is the best luck I've ever had! Come on," you insisted.

Husk's face, while already burning from the alcohol, was flush with nerves, a little smile on his face from the feeling it gave him. "Thanks."

#hazbin hotel #imagines #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin husk #hazbin hotel husk #hazbin hotel x you #husk x you #husk x reader #husk x y/n #gender neutral reader #reader insert #drinking

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as-is-above-so-below · 11 months

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The Captain - Simon Riley x Sniper!Reader, Wife!Reader

Part 9

summary: post-mission drinks and another flashback :) call sign: Freyja warning: NSFW, MDNI. Canon typical violence mentioned. Note: WE'RE BACK AGAIN! I'm super proud of this chapter (it may be my longest!) so I hope y'all like it :') Some of you may recognize a scene in the flashback from the original MW franchise, and you would be correct! I used that as a loose outline for a little Ghost/Freyja (pre-call sign) moment A special thank you to @lethalchiralium and @halfmoth-halfman for being the best betas and @peachesofteal for always spitballing. Enjoy and blessed be! << Previous | Next >>

Freyja checked on Arthur in his crib one final time, confirming that the little baby was still sound asleep, before closing the door to her bedroom with his monitor in hand. After arriving home following the gala mission, Freyja relieved Gaz of his babysitting duties and finished putting her son to bed while Simon took the first shower. They quickly swapped out so he could check on Joan and she could wash her makeup off.

As she came down, Soap was already sitting on the opposite end of the couch as Gaz, a glass with a hefty pour of amber liquid in hand. His mohawk was damp, indicating he must have showered in their guest bath. Her husband was leaning back in their oversized armchair, dressed in sweats and a black tee. God, if their friends weren’t there…

Freyja positioned herself between his open legs and leaned down, hands resting on either side of Simon’s head, to briefly press their lips together.

He inhaled softly through his nose and brushed his thumb against her bare thigh. “Mmm,” he hummed, then broke off the kiss. “Hi, love.”

“Hi…” She shifted down to join him, bent legs draped across his lap as she cozied up. “How’s Joan?”

Simon reached his open hand around her knees until it came to rest on her outer thigh. “Sound asleep. Gaz did a good job-”

“Make out!” Soap interrupted, smiling into his glass as he downed his drink. “I’ll give ye a hundred pounds.”

Her husband sent the sergeant a pointed look accompanied by a signature eye roll.

“No.”

“Awe, c’mon!” Johnny whined, head thrown back. “Ah’ve never seen ye winch for real!”

“I’m not a whore,” Freyja started, raising a brow at Simon. “But a hundred pounds is a hundred pounds. I’ve fucked you in public for less.”

He chuckled softly at that, starting to rub her freshly moisturized leg, drawing circles with his fingertips. “You fuck me in public for free,” Simon pointed out with a long, lingering kiss on her cheek. The motion sent shivers up her spine that she purposefully chose to ignore.

“CLAM UP!”

“You’re the one who asked me to make out with my husband, you perv!” Freyja cried, throwing her hands in the air in exasperation. Simon still had his nose buried by her ear, his deep timber chuckling softly in her ear. Jesus Christ.

“Because I’m sad and horny and miss my boys!”

Roach and Kӧnig were gone on a mission for two weeks. Two weeks without sex had Soap that pent up?

“Soap, I think you have a problem.”

“And why would I indulge you after the performance you put on tonight?” Simon asked, his touch slowly creeping further and further up her leg. Between her and the chair, his opposite hand settled nicely against the snap of her back.

Valid point. The groping and kissing had been a lot.

“I’m sorry! Ah was just tryin’ tae do you both a favor!”

“Nah, she won’t do it.” Gaz crossed his ankle over his knee, wearing a boyish grin and egging her on. Per usual, for Kyle Garrick. “I know for a FACT he tops. No way Ghost is a bottom bitch.”

“Occasionally.” His nose traced the shell of her ear, and his fingers dipped under her pajama shorts. After their meeting in the gala bathroom, if he kept going on the path he was on–

“He whimpers, too.”

“Liar!”

“You two are insuffer–”

Simon Riley was an expert in many areas, including but not limited to shutting his wife up; firm, dominant kisses usually did the trick. And if they wanted a show…

His free hand left her back to gently cup her cheek, in stark contrast to the tongue prying her surprised lips open and lapping into her mouth. Freyja’s eyes fluttered closed, and she let herself melt into his touch, following his lead. She kissed him back with equal fervor, nibbling at his plush lower lip and lacing her fingers through the hair at his nape. It never ceased to amaze her how easily the man under her could turn her into a puddle, soft and pliable in the palm of his hand.

At least thirty seconds of swapping spit had passed by the time Simon’s hand pushed her bottoms up a bit. What they were doing could barely be called a kiss, treading more on the side of a sloppy makeout session. He pawed at her ass, fingers digging into the stretch-mark-ridden flesh before dragging Freyja into his lap, guiding her to straddle him. Just as she sank her weight onto his hard crotch for some release–

“Oooh, steamy.”

Simon pried himself off her, restraining the urge to moan as Freyja moved down his neck and choked, “Sergeants, see yourself out.”

“Cannae drive, mate! We’re hammered, and it’s just gettin’ good-”

“Then go upstairs,” he all but growled, using his hands to roll her hips against his. The quiet moan against his shoulder wasn’t lost on him. “Cause I’m gonna fuck my wife. Plug your ears while you’re at it.”

Kyle, the intelligent man he was, popped off the couch with a salute and marched upstairs. He had seen what he needed to see and wasn’t keen on watching live-action porn.

“Why cannae you go upstairs?”

Freyja sat back to give herself enough room to grab the hem of her husband’s shirt and yank it up his torso. Her chest was heaving with gentle pants, Simon looking up at her with that cocky smirk of his in response to her desperation. What did he expect, for her not to be horned up after getting tossed around in that bathroom?

“M’goin’!”

“Wise choice.”

The couple kept themselves quiet, allowing adequate time for their guests to get to a safe distance. Another well-placed grind of her damp shorts against his hard cock pulled a sharp sound from the lieutenant, and he hurriedly finished ripping his shirt over his head and tossing it across the room. Freyja couldn’t help the proud smile that pulled at her lips, her chest warming up at the power she held over him.

Several years ago

The lieutenant’s arrival in England was unceremonious. Laswell brought her through to John Price’s office and introduced the two. Strong energy radiated off of him, the presence of a skilled leader. He wouldn’t be difficult to work with; hopefully, she could use her time there to learn a thing or two from the captain that she could use on her track up the ranks. The trio went on a tour around the base, where she met Gary Sanderson – callsign “Roach” – who she became fast friends with due to her affinity for British Sign Language.

Then there was Ghost.

John didn’t offer anything other than the man’s callsign. She found it hard to believe someone of his stature could be likened to anything resembling a ghost, but she had seen crazier things during her service. The black ski mask with a skull print was a choice, but not dissimilar to the black gater she sported at the time.

In the days following her arrival, the lieutenant did her best to bond with her new team members, even though the arrangement was temporary. Roach wasn’t a problem, and even their superior made an effort to get to know her and her ambitions, even her personal life.

“No call sign?” Price asked, having already read over the file Kate had sent over.

She shrugged noncommittally. “I haven’t found one that fits me yet. I just go by whatever designation I have for the mission.”

“Bravo-one it is.”

Ghost, on the other hand–

The sergeant proved her first impression wrong. How did the giant of a man manage to disappear whenever she entered a room? However, Ghost didn’t always vanish, and she couldn’t figure out a pattern. It was as though he was intentionally steering clear of her presence, but only in certain situations.

She would be correct.

One of the first things the team did was head to the gym to familiarize themselves with the others’ techniques and skills in combat. With Price, Roach, and Ghost already knowing each others’ affinities, that left the lieutenant to showcase hers. Price wanted to give her a challenge, to see how she would handle someone who clearly overpowered her. Ghost was the obvious choice, at six-foot-four and change and two-hundred-plus pounds.

She won the first round, although barely. She was good, and Ghost hadn’t dared underestimate her before stepping into the ring. She’d somehow wrenched herself out of his grip and onto his shoulders, with her thighs locked around his neck effectively enough for him to tap at her hip. Ghost won the second, taking more time than he would have liked to pin the lieutenant on her back, securing her hands above her head and holding her down with his body weight.

He could take the damned heavy breathing and mischievous eyes staring up at him through her lashes. But when “Good job, Sergeant” slipped past her lips and planted itself firmly in his brain, he leaped off the woman as if she was on fire. His cargos did a good enough job concealing the raging hard-on he sported during the rest of the evaluation, but they didn’t ease Ghost’s suffering as he had to stand there and avoid her occasional glances.

While the newcomer was learning the ropes of the base and making friends, Ghost was preoccupied. He was putting in a considerable effort to not think about her; the mask covering the lower half of her face, her pretty eyes above that black mask, her chest in the tight shirt she arrived in–

Pull yourself together.

He was doing well for a while. Ghost made it six whole hours without popping another boner. Then there was the interrogation.

That night, Roach and Price picked up a cartel member from the cell they were trying to locate. The captain paired Bravo-one, her temporary call sign, and Ghost on the interrogation. Hard to avoid me now, huh? she thought to herself as they approached the room, Ghost pausing just before the door. She wasn’t exactly sure what she had done to make him so avoidant, but she couldn’t be bothered much then. They had a job to do.

With a hand on the knob, the man with the skull plate looked over his shoulder at her. “If you’d like to do the talking–”

“No, thank you.”

Ghost raised a brow under his mask, watching her roll up her sleeves.

“No?”

“I can be persuasive.”

She ignored the expression she couldn’t quite place and waved her hand, directing him to open the door. “After you, Sergeant.”

The pair split off, Ghost immediately going to their captive’s chair, the other hovering by the duffel bag in the corner, packed with various tools and weapons. The one she picked up and inspected for any dents or abnormalities made Ghost’s brain twitch. Well, maybe not his brain–

“And who’s the looker?” the stranger asked, licking his lips. “You’d be prettier if you took the mask off, baby.”

“That’s my lieutenant,” Ghost replied, leaning on one of the metal chair’s arms. “She’s here to make sure you tell me what I want to know.”

“And what exactly would you like to know, Sergeant?”

“Easy question.” He leaned down into the dealer’s bubble, close to his ear. “I just want your boss’s location.”

The man whistled lowly, shaking his head as he clicked his tongue. “Now, that, I can’t do,” he said with a shrug. “Unfortunately for you, this routine won’t work for me. The bad cop smacks me around; the good cop comes in with an offer to save the day – been there, done that. Maybe if you sweeten the deal with that lovely piece of–”

“You’re mistaken,” Bravo-one interrupted his monologue, stepping away from the corner and further into their witness’s line of sight. “He’s not the bad cop.” She bent to his level and brought the torch between them before flicking the flame on. Their prisoner’s stoic face quickly soured, and he thrashed against his restraints, making every attempt to escape the blue flame. “I am.”

Ghost found many things attractive, but he wasn’t aware that watching a woman he had just met torture a grown man and make him beg for life (and eventually, his death) would make him so painfully hard. He tried to blow off steam in the gym a few hours later (after jerking off in the shower, fucking minx), but was yet again met with the sight of his partner. Her hair was still damp from a post-mission shower, leaving a wet spot on the back of her t-shirt. This time, however, she had perched herself outside Price’s quarters. She leaned against the open door frame, chatting quietly, in nothing but a t-shirt and incredibly short shorts. Short enough, that the delicious crease where her ass met her thigh was prominently displayed.

Abort, abort, abort–

It was like the man had blacked out until he was safely in the confines of his quarters, back pressed against the now-locked door. He was a panting, flushed wreck under his mask, which he swiftly pulled off and tossed onto his dresser. Every endeavor to catch his breath or slow his heartbeat went nowhere. He decided cracking his skull against the solid wood door might jumpstart his system again and divert his thoughts away from the lieutenant.

Needless to say, that did nothing to appease the throbbing sensation between his legs.

“Bloody hell…”

Nothing a quick wank couldn’t fix. Again.

Price invited her to a local military bar with the rest of the crew, the usual spot for those who stayed on base on a Thursday night. It didn’t take her long to change and hitch a ride with their captain, donning a simple open-knit sweater with a bralette underneath and dark blue jeans. Once they arrived, she immediately noticed Ghost sitting at the end of the u-shaped countertop, tucked against the wall with his hood over his head. She took her time floating around the bar, shaking hands and conversing happily with various privates and soldiers that weren’t on their assignment. The damp air in the space, combined with her breath, made her mask cling to her face; this was a common occurrence, one the soldier had learned to put up with.

Ghost made no effort to approach her, but she wasn’t blind; his eyes followed her constantly. Whether he was being intentionally conspicuous or not, she didn’t know. After their little sparring match (that left a puddle in her underwear), she thought she had felt something shift. Even though she’d only known the man a few hours then, something about the sergeant piqued her interest. His commanding aura, powerful stance, laid-back yet driven attitude–

Or, his monstrous size and muscles. Those were always a plus.

When Ghost had fled from the training facilities, leaving her on the floor, she raised her arms and let them smack against the mat underneath her.

“He’s a tricky lad to get to know. You’ll get there,” Price had said, insisting that his adverse reaction was nothing personal.

Regardless, he wasn’t making a move, and the constant avoidance wasn’t floating her boat.

So, she allowed Roach to pull her to the cozy dance floor on the other side of the bar. Her eyes wrinkled with the wide smile under her mask as she danced with the silent soldier, chest to chest, periodically spinning under his arm. They laughed and danced like carefree fools; she had been nervous about crossing the pond to a new country, partnering up with strangers for such a vital mission. It wasn’t the same as a deployment or going to various countries with her usual team. The cartel could keep her in England for weeks if not months. Most of the people so far had made her feel welcome.

Most.

Still, she allowed her eyes to fall on the one soul who had made it seem like she didn’t belong – on that mission, on base, in the military in the first place–

And found the portion of his face not covered by his balaclava examining her. Ghost was damn good at concealing his emotions; in the few days she’d been graced with knowing him, she couldn’t figure out his thoughts three-quarters of the time. But at that moment, it almost seemed like fury mixed with a…certain softness?

His gaze shifted to her dance partner and darkened, no longer holding what she thought she had seen just a second before. Ghost held their eye contact while he downed his drink and slammed the heavy glass on the counter. Finally, he stormed to the exit with his hands stuffed into his pockets. She watched him shoulder the emergency door, which apparently had no alarms attached to it, and disappear outside. It was like a silent command to follow. Or maybe a warning, a huge, neon red sign blinking ‘BEWARE! DANGER!’ at her.

However, she had never been known for playing things safe.

“Roach,” she said over the music, slowing her movements. “I need some air. Don’t wait up.”

He simply smiled and bobbed his head before signing, “Sure! I’ll see you back on base tomorrow?”

“Try not to take it too rough tonight,” she signed back with a wink, patting him on the shoulder.

“I make no promises!”

Roach wouldn’t have a hard time finding someone to go home with, that much she was sure about. Even as she weaved through the crowd, she scoped a soldier still in their fatigues heading in her companion’s direction. Lucky bastard, she thought, trying not to let her envy for Gary’s ability to draw men in get the better of her. I’d give anything to scratch that itch right about now. But she was determined. Determined to confront Ghost about his attitude toward her, his superior, and end it. She quickly stepped to the door, hoping to catch the sergeant before he went back to base–

And collided with said sergeant's chest as she went to push the door out.

“Lieutenant.”

The lieutenant recovered smoothly, stepping back to put some space between them. “Sergeant,” she said, nodding to him. “Can I speak to you outside for a moment?”

He stared for a beat before silently stepping back and holding the door open as she stepped out. The cool, refreshing air flowed through the wide knit of her sweater, offering solace from the hot, stiff air, inside the building. The back exit led to a quiet parking lot; all they could hear was the soft buzz of the street light above, Thursday night traffic in the distance, and the muted music from the speakers inside.

They stood side by side in silence for a while, him with his hands tucked into his hoodie pocket again, her arms crossed over her chest. The bar was further away from the city, making the clear, starry sky more visible without the smog and city lights. It would be peaceful if not for her whirring thoughts and the intoxicating musk and whisky wafting from the man next to her. Maybe she’d find someone to go back to the barracks with later.

She wasn’t expecting Ghost to be a regular Chatty Cathy, but the silence was unbearable. “Did I do something to upset you, Sergeant?” she asked, not looking up at him.

“No, ma’am.”

God, she wanted to throttle him. “Then why are you avoiding me?” She took the silence that followed as confirmation of her suspicions, which only fueled her fire more. “We’re supposed to be a team; you and I are partners. The whole won’t function with you icing me out.”

Another pause as Ghost contemplated his response. Her sneaker scuffed against the pavement as she shifted her stance, choosing to spread her weight equally instead of leaning to one side. It made her feel taller, and she needed all the help she could get next to the absolute unit beside her.

“You’re distracting.”

“Distra-” She looked up at him then, baffled, and saw him still facing forward. But she did notice his jaw tightened underneath the mask. Distracting? That’s not–

Oh.

“Rather cozy with the little insect.”

She couldn’t help it, honest. At first, she snorted, but her recovery wasn’t as swift as the chuckle rolled into barrelling laughter. “R-Rather…insecure for such a…big man!” she wheezed, hunching over with her hands on her knees as she tried to catch her breath.

Ghost asked, “Something funny?” which only made matters worse and threw her into another fit of giggles and snorts. Very ladylike. After close to a minute, she managed to compose herself enough to suck in a deep breath of oxygen.

“You’re jealous?” she questioned, straightening her back again. “Oh, that’s…that’s hilarious.”

“I’m not.”

Liar.

“You’ve been pining after me this whole time, and you–” The giggling started again, but under enough control that she could still speak. “Ghost, Roach is fucking gay.”

Ghost’s eyes snapped over to her at that, although he couldn’t find the words for a smart response. Several things he had noticed about Roach suddenly made sense. He’d been working with Roach for months by that point. How hadn’t he put two and two together?

“You’d have a better chance of getting him to fuck you than me.”

Before he could stop it, his mouth spoke quicker than his mind could keep up with. “Oh, I’m not a bottom, love.”

Now, that certainly wasn’t a response she prepared for. Was it a good idea to proposition someone of a lower rank as a contractor?

Probably not.

If she was wrong and he wasn’t interested, he could report her and get her demoted if not discharged entirely. But if she’s right, and someone else catches them, that would at least count towards a demerit, a permanent stain on both of their records.

But again, you know what they say about her and risks…

“You sure about that?” she hummed, keeping her gaze forward and arms crossed.

Ghost raised an eyebrow and gave her a once over with his side-eye, eyes following her every curve, from her feet up to her exposed shoulder where her sweater had slipped and the open holes to her bare skin underneath. He forced his sight forward like a good soldier, clenching his fists tightly in his pocket to help restrain himself. “I don’t make a habit of fuckin’ my superiors, ma’am,” he offered, head tipped back towards the open sky.

“Who said you’d be doing the fucking, soldier?”

His skin reacted immediately, burning hot under the black fabric. He chanced another look at her without turning his head and saw her looking back through pretty lashes. If there were a definition for “fuck me eyes” in the dictionary with a picture next to it, the eyes he was currently staring into would be there. He had done so well, circumventing any temptation from a superior officer. The military was all he had; if he was discharged, he would have nowhere else to go. The ghost didn’t even have an apartment off-base, always staying in the barracks, save for times when Price dragged him to his house and forced him to stay there.

He had been so diligent and successfully dodged her at every opportunity, dodged her kind advances of friendship, even sat across the room during the few briefings they’d had together to keep physical distance between him and his problem. But with every passing second of peering down into those eyes, the rest of her face concealed by a mask not unlike his own – he felt his impulses surging forward and self-control slipping away.

The man sighed deeply and dropped his head with his eyes closed. “Bollocks.” Ghost placed a hand on her lower back while the other pulled his belt open, the leather slipping through the metal clasp, buckle clinking as he guided her towards Price’s vehicle.

Ever the gentleman, Ghost popped the door open and stepped to the side, allowing her space to climb in first. She couldn’t be bothered with concealing the giddy, satisfied look as she perched herself on the seat and tugged him between her legs by his waistband.

“Don’t give me that look.”

Mischief twinkled in the irises staring back at him, and suddenly the black mask he’d grown accustomed to disappear, showcasing a smile to match. “What look, Sergeant?” she questioned, her voice pitched lower than usual and her touch slipping into his pants and squeezing. Hard. A gloved hand smacked into the frame of the vehicle, supporting his body through the sudden tremor that jerked his hips forward.

Fuck.

She did manage to learn a few things about Ghost in that SUV. Those facts are as follows:

He was much more religious about keeping his mask on than she was with hers

Whimperer

He somehow was able to be soft while also fucking her stupid?

That tongue of his was good for more than quick whit

When Ghost came inside her, his thighs shaking and convulsing as her warm walls milked him dry, she gave them both a minute to gather their senses before rolling her hips again, earning a pathetic whine.

“Come on, Sergeant,” she panted, pulling his head up from her shoulder by short curls at the nape of his neck. “You can do better than that. Make me come again? Please?”

She had known him for two days and already had him on his knees for her. That theme would be consistent in their relationship going forward.

taglist: @esthervalea, @miss-leto, @sweetestcowboy, @blueoorchid, @apocalypticseagull, @eatingtheworldsoffanfiction, @covenlovenn, @330bpm-whiplash, @gnoccheyy, @jaggernauticals, @dwkfan, @untoldshortsofthefandomsdoms, @bobfloydsgf, @maviee, @thomaslefteyebrow, @kyovy, @prodyng, @scout-fang, @avalkyrieofparis, @misshoneypaper, @berryjuicyy, @voteforpedropascal, @beakami, @addictedtothefictionalworld, @kaghost, @witchy-writing, @67-angelofthelordme-67, @thychuvaluswife, @mysticalpandabear, @cabreezer0117

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mizunoyouni · 7 months

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ੈ♡₊˚•. Pale Blue Melody

· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Pairing - Kamisato Ayato x fem! Reader

₊˚♡⋆˚ Summary - After months of hard work and endless meetings, you and Ayato finally find some quiet time to relax together over some tea and sweets; courtesy of Thoma. It's in that moment you are reminded what it is exactly about your husband that makes your heart swell.

.°˖✧˚ Content - 3.1k fluffy + flowery words, Reader is referred to as "wife" and "my lady" + established relationship. Suggestiveness towards the end, but nothing explicit. Thoma + Ayaka cameo/mentioned. Lots of teasing and banter.

"Let's see... sakura mochi, tricolour dango, berry mizu manjuu..."

Thoma listed each item as he carefully set the plates of food onto the low table in front of you with a smile on his lips. Spring had descended upon Inazuma, dusting the lands in soft pink petals while conducting a symphony of chirps and hums from the wildlife that served as your morning wake up call and nightly lullaby. But with a new season came new responsibilities and tasks to be fulfilled, and you soon found your daily schedule each day was packed tighter than the adorable bento boxes Thoma sent along with you for lunch in between your meetings.

Which had led you to the position you were in currently— sitting comfortably outside, enjoying the sunlight and perfect blue sky as Thoma set up a table full of sweets and refreshments before you. He kept insisting that you sit back and relax while he meticulously adjusted each plate, teacup, and napkin as if this occasion was something akin to his latest magnum opus. Such a display laid out on the veranda was something that had become an uncommon sight in the Kamisato estate, especially with the combined hectic schedules of both you and Ayato often keeping the two of you away from home for days and sometimes weeks at a time as you each tended to your own separate duties. In a way, you were like two birds leaving the nest early each morning to go their own way, only returning home in the dead of night for rest and a quick meal. And needless to say, the change of pace hadn't gone unnoticed by Thoma's watchful eyes.

"Oh, and I can't forget the butterfly pea tea!" The blond housekeeper proudly announced, grinning widely, and you couldn't help but smile along with his contagious happiness.

"It's the new trend in Inazuma City to serve this tea with edible flowers. I thought both my lady and my lord would enjoy it, seeing that you've both been working so hard recently," he explained, clearly invested in the beautiful blue beverage he presented to you in a dainty glass teacup.

And so continued his happy ramblings detailing the herbal properties of said beverage, his search for the specific tea, his failed attempts in brewing just the right shade of pale blue, and his long journey of seeking out the perfect pearly flowers that would adorn your cups of liquid sky. Part of you wanted to suggest that Thoma sell his tea adventure story to the Yae publishing house as an idea for a new light novel, but you decided against it for Thoma’s sake.

"Is that so? Well, I'm glad you're so enthusiastic about it. It seems almost like you've been planning this for weeks," you say, trying not to laugh at Thoma's slightly startled expression upon hearing your words. He was like a surprised puppy— his posture straightening up immediately, his eyes widening, and the tips of his ears turning the faintest shade of red at the realization that he had been caught.

"Ah, well, I just thought that ever since last month, the two of you haven’t been home very often! Even if you both insist that work comes first, sometimes you need a break!" came his hurried response as he shifted in his seat beside you, quickly placing the last of the flowers into your cup in a feeble attempt to distract your attention.

“So you have been planning this for weeks.”

The sound of amused chuckling caught the attention of the two of you, and you both turned to see Ayato in all his prim and proper attire approaching with a smirk gracing his lips as he overheard the admission.

"My lord!" Thoma quickly jumped to his feet and bowed in greeting while Ayato continued grinning at the housekeeper smugly. "I-I... suppose you could say that..."

"I see, so that’s why you kept asking about our weekly schedules lately. You were trying to squeeze in an afternoon tea break for us," you laughed along with your husband, who also found the situation to be quite entertaining in his eyes, much to the blond’s embarrassment.

“We must thank you for this fine arrangement,” Ayato smiled, taking his seat across from you at the low table. “Will you join us for a few bites before returning to your duties?”

Thoma shook his head, his face still tinged with the slightest bit of red. “I’m afraid not. I’m scheduled to accompany Lady Ayaka to Ritou later today, so I’ll need to leave soon in order to escort her there.”

“Ah, a pity, but duty calls. We won’t keep you any longer then.”

And with that, the blond head of your trustworthy housekeeper quickly disappeared from the veranda where you and Ayato comfortably sat in the cool shade of spring, basking in the fresh floral notes and sweet aroma of the generous foods laid out before you. Thoma had truly outdone himself this time, not only in the visual presentation of everything, but also in pairing such flavors together to ensure an enjoyable time leisurely snacking and chatting. It was commendable, the way he had brewed the tea to just the right shade of blue that it seemed to rival the tranquility of the calm blue sky, or the way he had prepared the sakura mochi and tricolour dango that left you wondering if in another life, was Thoma perhaps a sakura blossom spirit? Because how else was he able to capture that soft, delicate hue of pink?

“Quite the dependable housekeeper, isn’t he?” Ayato finally asked after a few moments of watching you observe the fruits of Thoma’s labor.

“He’s always been. Although, I think he’s surpassed any, if not all expectations at this point,” you say with a smile before you take a tiny sip of the pale blue tea that had captivated you from the moment Thoma poured the sparkling liquid into your cup.

“Oh, don’t fall for him now. I might have to fire him if he causes my wife to stray away from me.” There wasn’t a single hint of malice in Ayato’s voice as he teased you lightheartedly. After years of being married to the man, it was evident that he loved to gently poke fun and share hushed laughs with you, rain or shine.

“We both know the Kamisato estate would fall into ruins if anything happens to Thoma,” you quip back, trying to bite back a smile, although your attempt proved rather futile and Ayato was able to catch your wide smile while he leisurely chewed on a piece of sakura mochi.

“Hm… perhaps you’re right. He does end up taking on more responsibilities than your typical housekeeper,” he agrees, feigning deep thought over the topic before he quickly let it dissolve away like powdered sugar on his tongue. “But enough talk about our wonderful housekeeper. How have you been fairing lately? Any personal plans you have scheduled? I could use another self indulgent activity as a palate cleanser from my countless meetings, you know.”

“Sounds like you just want to skip out on meetings,” you point out and you watch in amusement as Ayato throws you a pout before returning to his plate of sweets.

“Would it be such a crime for me to want to spend time with my lovely wife?” came his witty response. His lavender eyes narrowed at you, practically daring you to throw another playful remark his way.

Relenting, you sigh in defeat, your smile still on your lips as you carefully observe the floating flowers in your teacup for a few moments. The slightly translucent petals shimmered and dipped below the surface, dancing in your cup as they performed a private show, just for you. And you had half the mind to just sit and admire its beauty, finding it almost too dazzling to waste on the arbitrary act of drinking.

“I suppose not,” you finally say while Ayato wears a look of triumph on his face. “But if you insist, then I’d like you to accompany me tomorrow as I shop for a new kimono for the Irodori Festival in a few weeks. I want to look my best standing next to you.”

To that, he slightly perked up, interested in your proposal. “Shopping for a new kimono? And you want me to come along?”

“Well, I wouldn’t dream of wearing one my husband finds unflattering,” you laugh, and his lips mirror the smile on your lips.

“We can’t have you wearing a kimono that doesn’t highlight your beauty, can we? I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I let that happen,” he chuckles.

“Hm, you’re almost making me feel like I’m a doll that's to be dressed up and made pretty by you.”

“Doll or not, you are my beautiful doll. And don’t take this as an empty act of lip service, but you could choose to wear a burlap sack and you would still be the most beautiful person I’ve ever laid my eyes on,” Ayato proclaimed proudly, leaning his face against the palm of his hand. If you looked closely, you could see the twinkling in his lavender eyes.

A stuttered breath left your lips as his honeyed words filled you with warmth— the same warmth that had enveloped all of Inazuma for the past month as the seasons shifted and the days grew longer. It’s the warmth that lives inside your chest, keeping you warm and wrapping you in a protective embrace during the nights when Ayato cannot return to your shared bed and lay next to you while you sleep. It’s warmth that gives you confidence and strength on days where it seems that all hope has been drained from your body, lifting up your spirits from the depths of despair. But most importantly, it’s the warmth that fuels your soul, touching your heart and painting it a brilliant blue— proof of your attachment to your other half.

You shake your head at his overly affectionate words, wondering when he found the time to practice such romantic lines in his head.

“And there you go again being so sickly sweet to me…” you mutter as you shake your head.

“As if you’d prefer any other treatment,” he says with a smirk, and his gloved hand holds out his teacup to yours in a mock toast, the dainty glass clinking against each other softly, singing of the bond between the two of you.

“You know me too well,” you admit, and his smirk only grows wider.

“And if I didn’t? The thought alone is too horrid to imagine.”

Ayato chuckles as you smile along with him in silent agreement, not having a single comment to dispute his word. And as a quiet, comfortable silence drapes over the two of you like a soft blanket, you think to yourself that there is hardly any other place in the world you’d like to be in. If only you could have more days like this— a lazy afternoon sipping on liquid sky, enveloped by the sweet aroma of spring, and kissed with honeyed words as they blossom from your husband’s lips. But alas, you knew that this peaceful moment would soon come to an end, as all things would, and your life would return to days consisting of endless meetings you would be stuck in, sleeping next to the ghost of your husband, and longing for spring to return once again. That is, at least until the end of this busy period.

“You know, I really love these back and forths we have,” Ayato finally says after a few moments in a noticeably softer tone. It was the voice he only used when he was alone with you, usually in the comfort of your shared bedroom, away from all eyes except for the moonlight peeking through the window as the only witness to your nightly conversations.

“Because nobody else dares to challenge your word?” you ask, raising an eyebrow as his attention turns to the butterfly pea tea in his teacup.

Swirling the shimmering blue liquid, his eyes darted to the surface of the drink, refusing to make eye contact with you.

“Truthfully, I’m not a man who is often denied what he wishes for,” he starts. “Even when I became the head of the Kamisato clan at a young age, hardly any of my servants ever told me ‘no.’ If anything, it was more pressure than I could imagine. Because even if I made a bad proposal, many wouldn’t even dare to advise against it.”

Slowly, he lifted his cup and took a sip of the tea, his eyes locked on you the whole time before his lips finally parted from the edge of his teacup and he set it back down gently on the table.

“So you can imagine my delight to find a wife who can stand confidently beside me. I love that you are your own person. It’s what drew me to you, and I’ll never wish for that aspect of you to change.”

Ayato’s gloved hand found yours and he gently brought your knuckles to his smooth lips, kissing your hand slowly and you couldn’t help but feel your heart skip a beat when he playfully winked at you, clearly noticing how his words had affected you. Years of marriage to this man, and he always caused the butterflies in your stomach to flutter. It made you wonder if by the time the two of you had grown old and wrinkly, would he still be teasing you lovingly in such a lovesick manner?

A soft sigh escaped your lips as Ayato released your hand and chuckled softly at your sheepish expression from his sudden burst of flowery words that threatened to suffocate you.

“Such sweet words from a man of such high position would cause any onlooker to doubt your image,” you say at last, trying desperately to direct his attention away from the bubbling feeling that was brewing in your chest.

But to your dismay, his smile only grew as he leaned forward, looking mischievously at you with a smug expression gracing his features before he held your chin between his fingers. You knew that expression all too well— it was the same face he wore during hot pot nights right before he put in an odd array of ingredients, a misfortune that you and Thoma often found yourselves the victims of. Trouble was brewing, you were sure of it.

“And I’d think that if anyone heard of the words that leave your lips while we are in private, oh that would certainly stir up some gossip,” he purred.

“Ayato!” you blurt out and quickly swat his hand away, watching as he bathed in your startled expression as if it was his favorite pastime.

“Oh, don’t deny it, my love. You’re certainly no saint behind closed doors.”

You groan softly at your husband's antics and with shaky hands, you lift your teacup to your lips, desperately hoping a sip of the herbal tea would calm your beating heart and remedy the red that you were sure was dusting your face by now.

“A-and neither are you. Considering the amount of filthy words that leave your mouth when we are behind said closed doors, the shrine maidens should wash your mouth out with holy water…” you say, willing your voice to remain calm in order to deny your husband of any teasing comments he might think up.

Nervously, you watch as he tilts his head in mock innocence, giving you an amused look that does all but scream that he is up to no good.

“And what of when I do not use words?”

You can hear his hearty laugh as you choke on your tea, spilling a few pale blue drops onto the table before you’re sent into a coughing fit, all red faced and short of breath from his relentless teasing and the bits of liquid sky entering your lungs. You swear your heart stutters, and you see stars for just a fraction of a second, before you resist the urge to reach over and shove more sakura mochi into your husband's mouth to put an end to his teasing barrage that threatened to plant a garden of flowers where your heart should be.

When you finally recover from your coughing spell, you shift your gaze from your teacup to Ayato’s smiling face. He’s resting his chin on his palm now, his pale blue hair framing his face nicely as it always does. His lavender eyes had been trained on you the whole time, watching you with soft admiration. His lips were no longer held in the smirk that was plastered on his face moments before, but rather, they were softly painted with a smile that reminded you of the first snow of winter— gentle, soft, and kind.

In the shade of the veranda, and in the warm spring afternoon, you wonder if maybe you were dreaming— dreaming of the man sitting in front of you, dreaming of the delicious sweets prepared for the two of you by your housekeeper, dreaming of the life you were currently living. And after a few more moments of staring into your husband’s eyes, you wonder what exactly it is about him that makes your heart beat out of tune, skipping around as if it were singing acapella despite the perfectly timed chords resonating inside you. You blink, and he flashes you a closed eyed smile, and suddenly, it hits you all at once.

It’s the combination of the blue of your husband’s hair, the blue of the Inazuman sky, and the blue of your spilled tea that all string together to form that heart stopping pale blue melody that echoes in your head and guides your heart. It’s those blues that silently put you at ease whenever you feel restless, swaddling you like a child and rocking you back and forth comfortingly. And it’s the same blues that keep you company whenever you are away from Ayato, giving you ghostly kisses in his place until he can return to your side. It’s that specific shade of blue that you always look for in crowds, hoping to find his tall figure somewhere in the sea of faces. Blue— that’s the colour you’ve decided for your new kimono. It’s the colour of the skies that grace your beloved nation, the shade of your husband’s soft hair, the hue of your spilled tea, and the colour that has evidently painted your heart, signaling to anyone and everyone around you that you are a person deeply, helplessly in love.

Yes, that’s it. It’s that pale blue melody that sings of your love for Kamisato Ayato. To others, he is the Yashiro commissioner, or even simply a brother, or a lord, but to you, he is your husband, your lover, and the man who constantly threatens to drown you in his bed of soft blue flowers that he has molded perfectly to the shape of your body. And for better or for worse, you hope deep down inside that this pale blue melody never stops playing as long as you continue to breathe. Because it's one thing to hold your lover's heart close to yours, and other to have both of them beating to the same rhythm during every waking and dreaming moment.

୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ Author's note - Can you tell that I'm hopelessly in love with this man? My first fic, so I hope I've portrayed Ayato accurately... if not, then this is all just my silly little delusion.

#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x female reader #genshin x female reader #ayato x reader #kamisato ayato x reader #ayato fluff #‧₊˚✩彡 miya writes

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leilani-lily · 1 month

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~Oh Deer~ (Chapter 8)

Ohhh, it felt so good to write again. My hands were itching to get back to the keyboard, especially knowing in advance which chapter was next ¬‿¬ As I've mentioned before, this little snippet is a two parter; too big to fit in just one chapter. I hope to work on the next part next week and get it out asap ໒(⊙ᴗ⊙)७✎▤ Thanks guys! I hope you enjoy ꨄ

Synopsis: AroAce! Alastor x Chef!Singer! Reader. You want to get more exotic ingredients for the hotel but it's too dangerous to go along. Alastor offers his assistance and you both go out to the market. Word count: 5.2 k Chapter under the cut! ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“Something on your mind my dear~?”

You were swirling the whisky in your glass, staring at the bronze liquid sloshing side to side but eyes not exactly focused. Alastor watched you from his seat, quirking an eyebrow as his head tilted. You were both sitting in the radio tower, sharing a glass of liquor and conversing like you always did after a show. Usually you were very attentive to the deer demon’s thoughts, and would give some solid advice for the next segment. But Alastor noticed something was off today; he didn’t seem to have your full attention. And he wanted to know why. You look up to the deer demon in question, blinking back your stupor before giving him a sheepish grin.

“Ah… Sorry Al. Just thinking. But it’s really not important. What were you saying?” You lean forward in your chair and smile warmly towards your friend. But that didn’t trick the Overlord; he knew something was bothering you. And if it pulled your attention away from him, then he didn’t like it one bit. His ego wouldn’t allow it.

“Come now dearest,” he prodded, leaning forward so he was eye level with you, “I know something is wrong. Tell me.” He still had his signature grin, but his eyes were sharp and serious. That wasn’t a suggestion. You knew he wasn’t going to let this go until you confessed. You sighed.

“It’s nothing, really,” you disclosed, “I’m just trying to figure out how I can get my hands on certain ingredients is all…” You trailed off, hoping that was enough to satiate the demon in front of you. To your disappointment, it had the opposite effect. His grin widened as he leaned forward, his eyes shining in delight.

“Well goodness me, it’s about time.” he sang, “I was wondering when you’d finally cave and go back to your sinster ways!” He chuckled darkly, looking at you with a sense of pride. He was practically on the edge of his seat; all smiles and sharp teeth. You tilted your head in confusion.

“If you're looking for special ingredients, I can hook you up with my dear friend Rosie. She can get you the best cuts of meat in Hell.”

... Oh. You understood the disconnect. Your eyelids fell flat, giving him a jaded look. But he didn’t notice, mind flooding with ideas and different options.

“Or, if you wish to go hunting yourself, I’d be more than happy to-!”

“Not that type of ingredient, Alastor.”

The Radio Demon’s crimson eyes popped open as a record sound came to a screeching halt. You couldn’t help the upward curl of your lips after watching his expression slowly sour in realization. Alastor eventually slid back into his seat, crossing his legs and ears falling flat on his skull. A bored expression crossed his features as he looked to the side.

“Hmm. Pity. I was craving some Enchiladies. Or maybe some Bratwurst…”

You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you at his disappointment (and terrible puns). Alastor’s pupils slid back to you as his lips eventually curled up mischievously at the sound of your laughter. It was hard to stay upset in your company, he was always happy to get a smile or a laugh from you. His chest puffed out like a proud bird for a moment before turning his head back to you.

“Well then my dear,” he began, quirking up an eyebrow at you, “If you’re not in the market for that type of ingredient…” he tilted his head, “Then what is it that you seek~?” Curiosity had gotten the better of him, and now he had to know everything. Realizing you really weren’t getting out of this, you shake your head in defeat.

“Well… I’ve heard of this wild mushroom that only grows in the Gluttony ring. Apparently it can enhance the taste of any dish you cook it in.” you began. Alastor’s gaze never wavered from you, his face furrowing in fascination.

“It’s a really hard plant to harvest, and I heard a rumor that there’s a shipment coming to the Pride ring on Saturday.” Your eyes were shimmering with excitement just at the thought of it, making the Radio Demon’s pressed smile curl up ever so slightly.

“Certainly sounds intriguing,” he mused, pausing to take a sip of his whisky. He couldn’t help being entertained by your passions, and for something so simple in his eyes. After feeling the liquor burn down his throat, he spoke again.

“So tell me then, what seems to be the problem?”

Whatever sparkle in your eye seemed to cloud over, your shoulders visibly sagging. “I heard it’s only being sold in the Black Market.”

Not that piqued Alastor’s interest.

Everyone knew of the famed Black Market. The term was quite popular in the human realm, and was quickly brought down to the depths of Hell. It was a large bazaar deep in the city of the Pride Realm, where booths and trade stalls were set up and demons and imps alike could scrounge through to find rare and unique items. And although it was quite popular, it was also in one of the shadiest parts of town. Although Hell was known for all of its illegal activity, the Black Market was acclaimed for it. Looking for weapons to kill an Overlord? Or drugs so strong the effects would last for a week? It would be found there.

“... I still don’t understand what the problem is, my dear.” Alastor’s eyebrows furrowed in visible confusion. You eventually regarded him with a similar face, not understanding how someone so brilliant didn’t seem to understand the stakes at hand. You took a deep breath, palms pressed together as if praying for patience before giving him a serious look.

“Al.” You spoke tartly, your pressed hands now pointing to him, “I know something like the Black Market would be, like, a walk in the park for you.” His eyebrows raised in amusement before you continued, “But if I went? A lone female with no means to defend herself?? I would become a blood smear on the wall.” You lifted your arms to the wall beside you before flopping your arms down in defeat. You sighed and gave him a weak smile. “Trust me, as much as I want to get that ingredient, it’s not worth risking my life for it.”

Alastor stared at you intently for a full minute.

Then burst into laughter.

You had to blink back your surprise at his sudden reaction, albeit a strange one. You honestly didn’t expect him to find joy in your death. Then again, he always found pleasure when it came to killing. Maybe you were just too naive to think he wouldn’t enjoy yours as well? You weren’t really too sure how to respond, but thankfully Alastor spoke up before you had the chance.

“Ohhh my dear,” he sighed happily, “Is that all? Now really, there’s no need to fret over something that has such a simple solution!” Alastor set his glass down on the table, then clasped his hands together in his lap as he sat up straight.

“If you don’t wish to go alone, then allow me to accompany you.”

You immediately perked up at his words, almost unable to believe it. You had to admit, the thought had crossed your mind. But you knew how busy Alastor’s weekends were, and you didn’t want to waste his time on something so silly. Besides, you knew the dangers of the Market; the horror stories you had heard over the years. You knew Alastor could defend himself, but still… You didn’t want to take any risks. Not when it came to him.

“No, Al,” you started, “I couldn’t ask that of you. I don’t want to put you in any danger-!”

You were immediately cut off by one of the demon’s long fingers pressing up against your lips. The Overlord leaned in close to you, grin snarled and eyes closed tightly.

“Trust me, mon passereau,” he chuckled darkly, “If anyone were to ever try anything…” his scarlet eyes immediately flashed open, his pupils now black and shaped like dials as the static in his voice distorted, “ł₮ ł₴₦'₮ ₥Ɏ ₴₳₣Ɇ₮ⱠɎ ɎØɄ ₴ⱧØɄⱠĐ ฿Ɇ ₩ØⱤⱤłɆĐ ₳฿ØɄ₮.”

You felt a shiver run down your spine as the lights flickered, radio waves screeched and the controls behind him clicked and flipped. And in a snap, the room flipped back to normal as Radio Demon sat up straight again, eyes once again crimson and smiling as if nothing had happened.

“Besides~!” he continued, his voice now unsettlingly chipper, “It’s been at least a decade or so since I’ve last been to the famed Black Market. It would be intriguing to see how much has changed!”

You watched him carefully and felt your heart-rate begin to increase. Ever since you had heard of the toadstool, you had been dreaming of using it in your cooking. And now for this dream to be so close; you could almost taste it… But you didn’t want to get your hopes up. Not yet. You felt like such a broken record, but you had to be certain. You looked up at him shyly, feeling your fingers fidget nervously.

“Alastor… Are you sure about this?”

Said demon looked down at you, eyes flicking from your face to your hands, then back. Finally, he began to shake his head mirthfully, reaching over and giving your head a gentle pat.

“My dear,” he tutted, “I wouldn't even be offering if it was something I truly did not want to do. I insist.” He then rose from his chair and towered over you before extending a hand.

“I promise I can guarantee your safety. That is, if you’ll have me.”

You looked at his hand in awe before lifting your head up to him. There you were, already crestfallen with defeat and ready to give up. But then Alastor came along, and he wanted to help make your silly little dream a reality. Your heart bloomed in warmth for the man standing before you. Seriously, you were so freaking happy he was in your life. With a tender smile, you extend your hand and place it in his outstretched one.

“Of course Alastor. Always.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

Most of the clothes you wore around the hotel weren’t that flattering.

For starters, you didn’t want anything with excessive frills or cloth that could potentially snag in a cupboard or catch fire over a stove. Also, you didn’t ever want to wear anything nice in case it gets torn or stained in the kitchen. Most of the time, you were in either jeans/stretchy pants, and a t-shirt/tank top. Because if it got ruined at work, it was no biggie.

But now, as you were getting ready for your outing with Alastor, you were quickly realizing just how much of a biggie it was.

You tore through your drawers frantically, trying to find something that didn’t have holes in it, or a previous stain, or heaven forbid, a cringe worthy graphic printed on it. Fuck, you really wish you had taken up Angel’s offer earlier that month to go on a shopping spree. You made a quick mental note to ask him about it next weekend. If he saw your wardrobe now he’d disown you as his bestie.

As you raked through your closet, you felt like a complete dumbass. For God’s sake, you were just going to the market with your friend. It shouldn’t matter what the Hell you wore; it’s not like this was a formal outing. Nevertheless, you decided you still wanted to look nice for once. This was the first time the two of you would be together outside of the hotel. And that felt like a special enough reason to dress up and not look like a fast food worker after a 12 hour shift.**

Eventually, you managed to find a simple, short black dress tucked in the very back of your closet. You could work with this. After scrounging through your bathroom drawers, you manage to find an old metal hair stick and use that to wrap your locks into a cute messy bun. And with some modest jewelry to help accent, you were finally satisfied enough with your appearance. Given what you were working with, this was the most presentable you were going to get. With a final nod in the mirror, you grab your purse and lock the door behind you.

You make your way down to the lobby where you had both agreed to meet up. As you exited the elevator, you could see Alastor’s proud profile already standing by the front doors, microphone in hand and back straight. He seemed to be looking towards the side, but as you approached him, his scarlet eyes slid over to your form. You come to a stop and look up at him, your hands clasped in front of you and waiting.

His eyes flicked over your body, his face unchanging as he took in your appearance. For a moment you felt your face getting hot, and had to look away from embarrassment; was this too much? Maybe you should’ve just stuck to your regular pants and t-shirt…

“From chef to charmante, you truly are a sight for sore eyes my dear.”

You looked up to him again and blinked in surprise. His expression was pleasant as he stared at you; his smile soft and genuine. You felt your heart leap into your throat at the compliment, and couldn’t help the warm smile creep up your face. And it was peaceful between you both for a moment…

Before the Asshole decided to ruin the moment.

“And here I was beginning to think you didn’t know how to dress yourself. How relieved I am to be wrong for once…” he teased, his soft smile twisting into a mischievous grin and eyes crinkling with impish delight.

Your hand moved quicker than light as you lightly backhanded his bicep, your face scrunched and glaring daggers at him. The Radio Demon snickered as his static buzzed happily, not at all flinching at the assault and most likely already prepared for the blow. After having a good chuckle to your dismay, Alastor stood up straight again and dusted off his arms, his smile still wide and wicked.

“You’re lucky I enjoy your company y/n,” he stated, straightening his jacket, “If any other demon were to strike an Overlord, they would never see the light of day again.” He looked down and quirked an eyebrow at you, and you wanted nothing more than to wipe that grin off his face.

“Honestly, between getting ridiculed daily or being slaughtered, I’m not sure which is the worse fate…” you huff, straightening up and crossing your arms. Alastor chuckled at your quip, and eventually, you felt your shoulders relax and smile betray you. As his sniggers died down, he took a step towards you, his expression once again calm as he looked down at you.

“Well my dear,” he mused, “Now I can understand why you would want my protection for our little outing...” His pupils fell to your body, scanning slowly all the way to your legs. You swallowed a lump in your throat. Eventually, his scarlet eyes flicked back up to your face, and you couldn’t dismiss the hunger behind them.

“The wolves would be more than happy to ravish such a delicacy.”

??!??!?!!

You had to remind yourself to breathe. Suddenly breathing was something you had to think about. Your mouth felt so dry, and you knew for a fact your face was probably beet red. What the actual fuck was that. Alastor had given you compliments before, but that… That was at a level you had never experienced before. Did he actually find you attractive?? Jesus Christ, was this friendly outing actually a date??

... Fuck, did you want this to be a date???

You could feel your brain short circuiting.

Alastor’s smile curved upward at the sight of your reddened cheeks. He bent down at his waist in a bow and extended a hand, making your eyes focus back to him.

“Shall we be on our way dearest?”

You looked at his clawed hand, then back to him. He had to be teasing you. There was no way he had actually meant what he had said earlier. This is what he always did; this was what your friendship was basically built on. You mentally scolded yourself for actually falling for his goading.

Please. As if.

You sighed and shook your head, feeling a smile creep up your lips at the absurdity of it all. You weren’t going to fall for it. Not this time. Finally, you look up at him and extend your hand, gently placing it in Alastors. You give him a calm, yet cocky look.

“Lead the way.”

Alastor’s eyebrows shot upward amusingly as he raised his other hand. And with a snap of his fingers, you both vanished from the lobby.

~~~~~~~

You couldn’t contain your gasp of amazement when you laid eyes on the Black Market.

It was everything you could’ve imagined. There were dozens of rows crammed full with booths and vendors stretching as far as the eye could see. Tall skyscrapers framed the entire bazaar, yet were covered from sight by the tarps, blankets and open umbrellas hanging overhead to provide shade. The market was bustling with all creatures of life; demons, imps, and hellhounds alike. Either trying to sell their wares and cheat someone of their life savings, or excited buyers chittering away and browsing all that was offered.

“How exhilarating~!” the Overlord grinned, looking out at the spectacle with bright eyes, “I had forgotten how appealing this place was. This is going to be quite the escapade.” Alastor happily turned his head to you, extending his elbow to you and giving a cocky grin. You looked between him and his arm, unsure of his intentions. His smile widened.

“I guaranteed your safety during this outing did I not? We don’t want to risk separation in this maze. Now then,” he leaned in closer, stretching his arm out further, “Shall we~?”

You couldn’t help the smile spread across your face; always ever the gentleman. You looked to him pleasantly, looping your arm in his and giving a determined nod. And with that, Alastor took the lead as you ventured deep into the market.

The variety of items for sale was incomprehensible. Antiques, produce, jewelry, weapons, and of course, second hand items. And boy, did you desperately want to peruse it all. But of course, you came here for one reason and one reason alone. And as thrilling as this all was, you knew you couldn’t be too charmed by the wonders of the market. This was how the ne'er do wells prayed on their victims. It would be easy for a demon to go missing amongst all the busyness and exhilaration. In this place, dark deals were struck and souls were either sealed or stolen. And you couldn’t be distracted by frivolous things.

Get in, get the mushrooms, and get out.

At least. That was your initial plan.

Alastor seemed to have other ideas.

This mother fucker strolled through the booths as if it was a Sunday afternoon, guiding you along and stopping on occasion to peruse. He would converse with the various sellers and happily turn to you, either showing off what he found or telling stories when something reminded him of a memory. He kept a firm grip on your arm, meaning you had no choice but to follow along with his meandering.

At first your nerves were on edge, eyes darting around anxiously, body tense, and flinching at every obnoxious sound. Alastor seemed to notice, and at some point, gave your hand on his arm a gentle pat. It was a simple gesture, and when he did it, he wasn’t even focused on you, instead speaking with another vendor. But you appreciated him acknowledging your nerves and attempting to calm you without drawing attention. The action and thought behind it was more than enough to comfort and assure you that you had nothing to worry about.

Eventually, you could feel your muscles relax once you realized no one would lay a finger on you with the Radio Demon by your side. As time trickled on, you became more confident, and even began to enjoy yourself and forget about any potential dangers. This was probably the only chance you’d ever get to come to the Black Market with as much protection as you did, so you might as well milk it for what it was worth.

At one point, you let go of his arm to toss on a pair of crazy glasses and throw a feather boa over your shoulders, striking a pose and cracking a joke. The Overlord seemed impressed with your new found confidence, and was more than happy to join in on the banter. And immediately tease your new look.

“If this is what you consider a correction for your fashion sense, perhaps my little songbird is more of a dodo~”

You tried to place an old fedora on his head and force him in on the fun, but the party pooper wouldn’t allow it. Snarling at the wretched thing and not even wanting to know how many disgusting sinners it had been on. And honestly, you couldn’t blame him for that, but you knew despite the venom in his smile, his eyes were dancing.

It wasn’t long until you were the one leading the way, zipping from booth to booth like a child on Christmas as Alastor followed closely behind. He had noticed you had dropped your guard, which was honestly what he had wanted all along. You had been working so hard, you deserved a fun day out on the town. He was glad to see that by demonstrating how safe it was, it would allow you to relax and fully enjoy the experience.

But now it was his turn to keep watch, his back straight and eyes carefully scanning. Of course, the Black Market was nothing but child's play for him. But for a simple sinner like yourself? He could understand why you were hesitant to come. Especially given your radiant personality; one that could attract sinners and imps alike like a moth to a flame.

And of course, as you practically beamed through the lanes, it didn’t take long for you to capture the attention of others. Eventually, you became so carefree, you didn’t even notice the times when certain demons would eye you up and down hungrily. Or the one hellhound who even attempted to snatch your purse.

But they were dealt with swiftly; black tentacles impaling, slashing, and ensuring that no one would ever dare lay a finger on you.

At one point you turned to him and noticed his smile was sharper than before and his scarlet pupils shining with glee. You had asked what he found so entertaining, but he simply patted your head and assured you it was nothing, quickly changing the subject by distracting you with the wares of the next booth over.

About an hour or so into your adventure, you were a couple of steps ahead of Alastor when one booth in particular caught your eye. Filled with mugs, kettles, spoons, and coffee machines, you were instantly reminded of your deer friend and your wonderful morning chats. Especially the one you had that very first morning, it was honestly the very beginning of what would become your close relationship. You vaguely remembered him mentioning not being able to brew that perfect cup…

An idea popped in your head.

You whipped your head around to quickly look behind and caught Alastor making his way towards you. You didn’t have enough time to peruse and find something, and you didn’t want to ruin the surprise. You’d have to find an opportunity later to come back in secret. But for now, you had to distract him.

You jog back to the Radio Demon and casually mention wanting to focus on the search for the mushroom stall, using the guise to pull him along further and away from the particular vendor. Alastor cocked an eyebrow at you, but eventually agreed that it was time to start looking for the rumored toadstool. He linked his arm with you once more and continued walking forward, unaware of you taking mental notes and memorizing landmarks.

Finally, after about twenty minutes of serious searching, you were able to locate the booth with the mushrooms. You recognized them by their iridescent blue shimmer, similar to what you had seen online, and your heart leapt with delight. You were practically bouncing on your feet, pointing excitedly and rambling like a dork while Alastor smiled in amusement. A line had started to form; clearly you weren’t the only ones aware of their magical properties, and you immediately zipped to the back, Alastor casually strolling behind.

“Well my dear,” he mused, leaning to the side to look ahead, “Given the amount of demons ahead of us, I’m afraid we’ll have to wait a little while.” He looked back at you expecting you to be crestfallen or pout, but you happily shook your head.

“Trust me,” you smiled up at him, “I’ve waited years already to get my hands on one of these things. Another fifteen minutes is nothing.” You glanced at the line ahead of you and did some quick calculations. You would likely be waiting for fifteen, twenty minutes? Would that be enough time to perhaps…?

As much as you were excited to be so close to achieving your goal, your mind was focused on something else. This could be your chance. This might be the only one you get today, and it could be the perfect opportunity… You had to take it.

“Actually…” you drawled, “I saw some really nice clothes in one of the booths we passed… could you wait here for me while I check it out real quick??” Alastors eyes immediately narrowed and brows furrowed.

“I wouldn’t recommend that dearest,” he stated, eyes flicking around his surroundings before focusing back on you, “I know we’ve had a lovely afternoon, but I must remind you of the shadows that lurk in the darkness. It wouldn’t be wise to leave my line of sight.”

Shit. You were afraid this would happen. And you knew deep down he wasn’t wrong. But you felt so strongly about this, and it would only be for a few minutes. What was the worst that could happen? You hide your inner turmoil with a cheeky grin.

“Al, you straight up said I need new clothes,” you razz, raising a brow at him. To this, the Overlord huffed.

“I would hardly call second-hand filth an improvement…” he muttered, nose wrinkling at the sheer thought. You couldn’t help the snort escape your nose, but you pressed on.

“C’mon Alastor, please??” you were practically begging at this point, “I don’t want to lose our spot in line, and the booth was just around the corner. I promise I’ll be super quick.” You gave him a pleading look in hopes to help convince him.

Alastor’s face scrunched up in disgust at your soppy expression, but soon softened to contemplation as he looked at you. His eyebrows were tight in thought, clearly thinking hard about his answer and how to proceed. A good minute passed before the deer demon finally sighed and his head fell. You felt your breath catch in anticipation. His head rose to meet your gaze, his eyes sharp and serious.

“Take this with you.” He stated, lifting his left arm and offering you his microphone. You felt your eyes widen in surprise, eyes flicking between the staff and him. You knew how important his mike was; it was always on his person or a conjuring away. You had never known him to be without it.

“Al… Are you sure?” you breathed, completely thrown off guard by this gesture. But he lifted the staff closer to you, emphasizing his words with this action.

“I would feel better knowing I have direct contact with you should anything happen.” he spoke, “If for whatever reason you need me, simply say my name into it. And I’ll know where to find you.”

You tried to swallow the lump in your throat. Now you felt completely awful about lying to your friend, especially if he was entrusting you with this. But you really wanted to do this. It was for him. And now, with this added protection, you knew you would have nothing to worry about.

You slowly raised your hands and gently grasped the staff, feeling the power practically buzzing through it. You were just about to pull it away when Alastor suddenly yanked it towards him, making you gasp in shock as you were pulled closer to him, now only mere inches from his face. Your heart was beating like a drum as his piercing eyes bore into you.

“Don’t make me regret this decision y/n.”

Whether this was about him entrusting you with his staff, or about letting you venture off on your own, you weren’t sure. But his tone was firm, commanding. Either way, you knew he was dead serious. You would’ve been scared if it weren’t for his grim eyes softening for a fraction of a second. Your heart bled for a moment before giving him a determined nod, acknowledging his statement. With a blink, he rose back up to his full height, his expression now calm, but his smile weak. You pulled the microphone tight to your chest, your smile cheek to cheek with enthusiasm.

You took a second to dig through your purse and place some money in his clawed hand, in case he reached the front of the booth before you returned. He protested for a moment, claiming he could very well afford to buy produce, thank-you-very-much. But you ignored his grumbling, insisting that they were your mushrooms, therefore you would pay for them. After making sure he had enough, you turned to run back to the previous stalls. But before you could make it far, you turned back and cast one final glance at the Radio Demon. Alastor was still watching you, his brows furrowed and grin tight. You smiled and called out to him, giving a reassuring wave.

“Thank you Alastor! I’ll be back before you know it!!”

The deer demon said nothing in return, simply giving you a single nod. His expression made you worry for a moment, inner fears pricking your mind. Was this really a good idea? But you thought back to everything Alastor had ever done for you. The laughter and thrill he brought into your previously dull afterlife. Your grip on his staff tightened; you knew you would be safe. Just holding the microphone was enough to make you feel more confident. You wouldn’t be alone; a piece of him was here with you.

Everything would be ok.

Before you could think about it any further, you turned on your heel and ran, disappearing into the crowd and venturing off on your own.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

**For all my fast foods working peeps, this is not at all a dig on you. Y'all are the real ones, we stan' the fast foodies out there! ( ◡̀_◡́)ᕤ I used to be one myself, and trust me, anyone who's worked in that kitchen knows how gross it feels to be sweaty, stinky, and feeling all the oil sticking to your clothes and skin. It's not fun nor pretty (*￣∇￣)

........ ¬‿¬ ((Thanks for reading folks! Please feel free to comment and interact!)) FIRST PREVIOUS NEXT

My beautiful does and bucks: @saccharine-nectarine ((Only one for now LMFAO but lemme know if you wanna join the tag list for updates!! ꨄ ))

#leilani-lily #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel #alastor the radio demon #alastor x reader #alastor #oh deer

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sereneres · 6 months

Text

strangers, friends, lovers, repeat

CHAPTER 0.6 — SOUR GRAPES / 2.4k

summary. — you were a stranger to sakura back then and she’s a stranger to you right now.

warnings. — based on strange by celeste / angst / heartbreak / mentions of a slur being said

“hey, ━━.”

there’s three– no, four boys standing in front of her and, while sakura had no idea what they had just called her, she had a feeling that it wasn’t a very nice word.

still, her mother had taught–ordered, more like–her to be kind and polite to everyone because she didn’t need another reason for everyone to hate her, so kind and polite she will be. it’s hard, but she deals with it because what else can she do?

“hello.” she says slowly, “do i… know you?” at the end of her sentence, she gives the group of boys what she’s sure is a shakey smile at best and a grimace at worst. whatever it was, it seemed to make the boys frown even more, so maybe she shouldn’t have smiled–or done anything with her lips–to begin with.

“yah, ━━,” that name again. just what did it mean? the way he was saying it made it obvious that it was some kind of… bad word, but one he relished in calling her. a slur, perhaps?

she’s pulled from her thoughts when the boy continued to speak. “we,” he gestured to the four of them, “heard that girls from knee-hon-go–” she had to bite back a laugh at the way he butchered the pronunciation. “were ━━ ━, so we wanted to know if it’s true or not.”

sakura, having barely stopped herself from laughing at the boy’s words, which, disregarding his horrible pronunciation, just sounded wrong in general, cleared her throat. “…i’m sorry, but i have no idea what you said.” she apologizes, trying–and failing–to give them a genuinely apologetic smile.

at least this time, her smile didn’t seem to anger them.

“huh?” the boy asked–he seemed to be the spokesman of the group–raising a brow with a sneer growing on his lips. “you can’t understand? are you ━━ or somethin’?”

“what?”

“‘wHaT?’” one of the boys mocked, making his voice high-pitched as if to mimic her voice but if anything, his attempt at making her looks stupid or whatever only served to make him look stupid.

it seems the boy realized it too, because he immediately followed up with a flustered, “shut up, ━━. acting dumb won’t help you at all.”

she’s not so sure what happens in the next few moments. she thinks one of the boys says something but she couldn’t understand it, partially because of his heavy accent–why did they have so many different accents here?–but mostly because the second he started speaking, she felt someone else–one of the boys who had somehow inched towards her without her noticing–grab a fistful of her hair and pull down-

and so, sakura found herself on the floor, her bare knees scraping against the very rough ground because it was hot and she didn’t want to wear tights, no matter how thin they supposedly were, but thankfully, she was wearing safety shorts under her skirt and- oh wow was that blood?

one inspection later–she squinted at the drop of red liquid on the ground–she concluded that it was, in fact, blood. the only issue is, who’s blood was it? another quick inspection of her legs and hands told her that it wasn’t hers, so-

“what the ━━!” one of the boys yelled, a hand to his nose, a thin stream of blood running down his lips, chin, and neck. “you ━━ ━! you broke my nose!”

ah, so that’s where it came from. the blood, that is.

belatedly, she notices the shoes of another student–where did they come from?–in front of her, and, over the loud thumping in her ears, she could hear the owner of said shoes snorting. “that was the ━━ point.” she mutters, giving the boy a disgusted look before turning to look at sakura, her brows furrowed with visible concern in her eyes. “are you okay?”

“who are you?” she asks, or, rather, blurts out, before immediately regretting her words. she probably should’ve just thanked her for saving her or actually respond to her question but–

“yn.” the stranger–now known as yn–says, smiling. “yn ln. it’s nice to mee- ack!”

later on, as she helped you stand up properly once the group of boys had left with their tails in between their legs or however the saying went, sakura wonders why you had helped her when the two of you were quite literally strangers. was it… what was it called? a hero complex? did you have a hero complex?

whatever it was that you had, a good act should always be returned fully, or so her mother has told her, so she helps walk you to the nurse’s office.

“hey, are you okay?”

sakura purses her lips, giving you the most unimpressed look she could muster up. “i think i should be asking you that, yn-ssi,” she says dryly, gesturing to the darkening bruise on your cheek and forehead, “considering how injured you are.”

“oh, this?” you point at the said injuries, your eyebrow raised comically high. “this’ll go away. i’m more worried about whether or not you’re okay after hearing those idiots call you all those names.”

you then smiled, and she would’ve considered it a rather charming some had your lip not started to bleed from how widely you smiled. “‘m injuries’ll heal ‘cuz they’re physical, but yours might not ‘cuz it’s ━ ‘n all that.”

“━?” she repeats, grimacing at how badly she had pronounced the word. “i’m sorry, i don’t know what that means.”

“oh?” there’s a look of confusopn on your face, though it quickly turns into one of surprise. “oh!”

“what?” sakura asks, feeling somewhat uncomfortable due to the way you were looking at her. “is there something wrong? should i get the… uh, nurse?”

you blink, your brows unfurrowing as your confusion turned into understanding. “oh.”

at this point, sakura has no idea what to say now that all you were saying was, “oh”, in different tones, and it certainly didn’t help that your expression was changing every other second.

“you’re a foreigner.”

it’s less of a question and more of a statement, but either way, it’s enough to make sakura suddenly feel uneasy. she shifts in her chair, fidgeting with the hem of her skirt anxiously as she looked at anywhere but you.

noticing how tense sakura looked at your words, you hastily shake your head–and hands–side to side. “not that that’s a bad thing, of course!” you say, cheeks flushing as you smiled sheepishly at her. “i was just surprised, you don’t really speak like a foreigner.”

“really?” she asked, raising an eyebrow and tilting her head. “everyone i’ve met since coming here has said that my accent is very notic…eable?”

“noticeable.” you correct, your lips pursed. “and maybe it is, but i didn’t notice it, so…”

“thank you…?”

it sounded less like an expression of gratitude and more like a question, but, fortunately, you didn’t comment on it.

“anyway, i don’t think i got your name.” is what you say instead, smiling at her.

“ah, i didn’t tell you?” she frowns, eyebrows furrowing as she recounted everything that had happened in the past one hour or so.

you shake your head. “you didn’t. i mean, i think i know it, but i’d like for you to tell me it anyway.”

“oh. uh, my name is sakura.” she laughs nervously, averting her eyes. “miyawaki sakura. i, erm, transferred here a few months ago from japan.”

“really?” you stare at her, your own eyes wide with intrigue and curiosity. “why’d you come all the way here, then?”

“uh…”

“oh, you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to!” you say hurriedly, laughing sheepishly. “i was just curious. there aren’t a lot of transfers that come here, much less transfers from japan here, so…”

“it was for my dad’s job.” she muttered quietly, giving you a small smile. she thinks it’s a little cute, the way you fidget anxiously in fear of having said something wrong. “he got a better job opportunity here so we moved. my mom wasn’t all that happy but she agreed because we… uhm, really needed the money.”

sakura isn’t sure as to why she was sharing this much information with you. she wasn’t an oversharer by any means–though you did ask her first–and she was considered a private person by many.

that said, maybe it was just because she needed to talk–she did tend to talk more when she was nervous–or maybe it was because you just seemed so nice and- what did you just say?

“sorry, could you repeat that?”

you blink at her owlishly. “i was just asking you if you wanted to be friends.” you said, and, seeing the incredulous look on her face, you hastily add an, “look, i know it’s a bit… childish of me to ask that, but i just wanted to know if you wanted to be friends or not so that we could hang out. i wouldn’t want to bother you if you don’t, erm, like me, and–”

“okay.”

she probably should’ve said something like, “okay, i’ll be your friend”, or something less confusing than just an, “okay”, but between your nervous rambling and her own nervousness… well, she wasn’t really thinking properly.

“okay…?” you repeat, looking both curious and worried. “what does that mean? do you want to be friends, or are you just saying okay to shut me up, or-”

“the first one.”

“oh.” a pause. “oh!” she’s never heard someone say the word, “oh”, so many times before. “oh-”

“hey.”

sakura is nervous. so nervous, in fact, that she doesn’t even notice you come up to her with a curious look on your face. just looking at you makes her regret ever coming up with this stupid plan. why did she think this was a good idea?!

“hello?” a hand–yours, obviously–waves up and down in front of her eyes, pulling her out of her thoughts. “earth to sakura, are you in there?”

she blinks. “oh, yn, sorry, i, erm, did realize you were here.”

“weren’t you the one who called me here, though?” you asked, raising a brow at the older girl. you’re confused, and rightfully so because, well, as you said, she was the one who told you–or rather, told chaeyeon to tell you–to come here and meet with her. “i mean, technically chaeyeon was the one who told me to come here because you told her to tell me to–”

“i like you!”

oh–excuse her languge–fuck.

sakura is certain that just might die on the spot, and, while she obviously won’t, she’d be happy to just bury a hole right where she stood, jump in, and never come out again because why the hell did she say that?! sure, she was planning on confessing to you today, but not like that, and certainly not so bluntly and without any feeling or any plan-

“you like me?”

huh. not a positive response, seeing as you weren’t blushing or smiling or much of anything, but not a negative one, considering that you did seem disgusted or upset. merely… curious, if your eyebrow raise was anything to go by. perhaps a little confused and a little surprised because, well, your best friend had just confessed to you, but only a little.

needless to say, it’s infinitely better than the reaction she had been expecting and bracing herself for.

to be absolutely, definitely, glass-transparent clear, she wasn’t worried that you would react negatively in a, “ew, you’re gay?” kind of way, mostly because you were gay yourself–there was, of course, internalized homophobia, but that was more chaewon’s thing than yours–and also because you weren’t the type to say that even if you weren’t gay.

no, what she was worried about was being rejected on the spot because she’s been your best friend for years and what if-

“i like you too.”

huh. maybe she shouldn’t have been scared after all.

her cheek stings a little, the pain only exacerbated by the rain pouring on her and on you. that pain is nothing, though, in comparison to the heartache she felt when she looked at your face.

“fine.” you hissed, your hands clenched at your sides. she has no doubt that you’re hurting the same way she is, both physically and mentally. “if you can’t handle this– handle us, we are through.”

she’s sure that her heart would have broken in that moment if it weren't already broken. your teary, empty eyes, paired with the cold look on your face was something she had, fortunately, never seen before, and it easn’t something she wanted to ever see again.

that said, it wasn’t likely that that would ever happen, considering what you had just said.

“okay.” she mumbles numbly, eyes, unknowingly to her, equally as empty as yours, if not more so.

the sight of it makes you grimace, feeling just as hurt as she did, if not more so, seeing her like this, but there’s nothing you can do.

you can’t wrap her up in your arms like you normally would when it felt like the world was torturing the both of you, can’t even stomach the thought of having her warm skin against yours until she starts sweating and whining for you to get off of her because she was starting to get sticky.

you can’t press millions of butterfly kisses on her neck, making her giggle oh so sweetly because she’s always been ticklish, she’s just never told anyone that she was. it’s something you’ve abused multiple times, whenever she was sad or lonely, and it never failed to make her smile again.

in the corner of your eyes, you can see the older girl’s hands twitch at her sides, likely longing to take your hands in hers and wordlessly promise to you that it’ll be alright. that everything will be okay.

she probably wishes–and she does, you just didn’t know that–that she could kiss you one more time, wherever you allowed her to. she’s kissed almost every inch of your body–an exaggeration, though it didn’t really feel like one–and it’s like an arrow to your heart to know that you won’t ever feel her lips on yours–on you–again.

“goodbye, sakura.”

this is the first time she’s ever heard you say her name–you calling her a shortened version of her name didn’t count–since the two of you got together, so it doesn’t surprise her when she feels her tears, which had been waiting for this moment, to roll down her face. unlike the rain pouring down, it's warm, and she clings desperately to it because of that.

“…goodbye, yn.”

previous. / sour grapes. / next.

#sereneres #seren.writes #kpop x reader #le sserafim x reader #lesserafim x reader #miyawaki sakura x reader #miyawaki sakura #sakura x reader #sakura #;༊

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 1 year

Note

Crowley not so subtly begging Papa Asim for donations :3c

Ah, yes 😌 A tale as old as time… Nobody let Jamil overhear this—

Family means Nobody is Left Behind or Forgotten.

“Night Raven College is greatly honored by your presence, Mr. Asim!!” Crowley warbled as he flitted around his desk, wine bottle in hand, and right up to his guest. "Please, allow me to pour you a drink!"

Mr. Asim and Kalim were seated in luxurious chairs (something Crowley had specially procured for this occasion), cushions silken and stuffed with the down of baby birds. The businessman was draped in the finest fabrics with expect stitching, brilliant peacock greens, blues, and golds bright against his white hair and rich skin.

He beamed—his smile so much like that of his son—and held up his glass in a hand heavy with sparkling gems. "Most hospitable of you, headmaster. I'll have just a nip, thank you."

"My pleasure!!" Crowley purred, tipping the bottle over. A stream of deep garnet liquid filled Mr. Asim’s glass halfway. The aroma of finely aged grapes and mulled spices filled the headmaster’s office.

“Smells good! Can I have some fruit juice too?” Kalim asked.

“Errr, when you’re older, Asim-kun! For now, you may have sparkling water.”

“Gahahah! Listen to your teacher, Kalim. The man’s job is to keep you safe while you’re at school.”

“Awww… Alright, dad!”

Crowley tended to the boy, then poured himself his own drink. He made himself comfortable back behind his desk. Swirling the wine in his glass, Crowley eyed the (very wealthy) man across the way.

How much cash was stuffed in the inner lining of his suit? How many credit cards could fit in a single wallet? Was one wallet enough to contain all of his financial assets? Surely not.

Family Day was a means of cultivating good will with students’ relatives and netting donations. If he played his cards just right… Crowley licked his chops—he could practically taste the thaumarks now.

Mr. Asim took a healthy swig. “So! Tell me, my good man. How’s my boy been doing this year?”

The headmaster practically jumped to answer the question. He had prepped himself for this, taking care to prune his feedback of any mention of subpar, just-barely-passing grades.

“Ah, yes! Asim-kun is very cheerful and friendly. He’s one of the few in the student body willing to lend an ear and a helping hand to his peers! Truly, a ray of sunshine in the dark, a cool sip of water in the scorching desert!”

“Hmm, that certainly sounds like him.” Mr. Asim thoughtfully stroked his bushy white beard. “Never has been the type to keep to yourself. Gregarious one, he is. At home, Kalim chats up everyone: the locals, the servants, the animals we keep, his siblings. The ability to communicate across different groups is a valuable thing.”

“I wholeheartedly agree!! And Asim-kun is so good at it,” Crowley gushed. “He reaches out to others regardless of their dormitory—why, I’ve seen him inviting staff members and reclusive Ignihyde and Diasomnia students to his get-togethers!” (The headmaster fondly recalled the delicious foods he had stuffed himself with at a recent Scarabian banquet.)

“He’s beloved by members of his dorm. They couldn’t ask for a better person to lead them. His enrollment alone has done so much good for our school!” Crowley paused dramatically, then slyly added, “And, of course, Night Raven College is most gracious for the generous donation received upon your son's transfer. The newly renovated Scarabia dorm is greatly enjoyed by all.

“Alas!! Our school seems to have fallen on hard times as of late. We experienced big commotions on campus between winter break and the cultural festival…” Crowley lamented, holding his head in his hands. Sorrowful sobs punctuated his sentences.

“If only a kind benefactor would spare us a few million thaumarks for repairing and expanding our facilities! F-For the benefit of the children, of course!”

"Mm?" Kalim cocked his head for a moment—then his face lit up with realization. "Oooh, you’re talking about when Jamil—”

“N-Not now, Asim-kun!!” Crowley hastily silenced him. Sweat beaded on his brow. “The adults are talking!”

Mr. Asim set his wine down and leaned forward. His expression became serious as he laced his bejeweled fingers together, eyes narrowing into ruby slivers. At once, his presence was less like that of a jolly neighbor and more like a powerful sultan, ready to command with the wave of his hand.

Crowley gulped. This man was no pushover.

"How is Jamil doing?"

"Viper-kun? " Crowley scrambled for composure. "Th-This meeting is about your son, so I don't see why... I don't know if I can divulge information on other students...!!"

"He is my son's attendant and closest confidant. I should like to know how he fares.” Mr. Asim turned to his son. “Kalim? Your thoughts?”

If he spills the beans, it’s over for me!! Not just no donation, but my reputation—Night Raven College’s reputation—forever tarnished in the eyes of the public!

“N-No,” Crowley said quickly, “I-I can provide a report if that’s what you want!!”

“I want to hear what Kalim has to say first. Go on, my boy.”

The headmaster’s face fell. One testimony from Kalim, and all of his efforts to flatter Mr. Asim would have all been for naught.

“Dad…” Kalim’s face was uncharacteristically flat. “About Jamil, he…”

It’s over.

“Jamil’s been having a hard time at school! But I didn’t know that until really recently. It turns out, he was really upset and hurting, and he couldn’t tell me about it.” Kalim’s eyes drifted shut. “I feel like… I’ve failed him as his friend.

“I want to be the person he can come to if he wants to be heard. I want to support him. Then I thought, ‘maybe the problem is me’. Maybe I’m not that kind of person in Jamil’s eyes. Maybe I’m not good enough yet.

“So… I made a promise to myself, dad! ‘I’ll get better, so one day Jamil can feel good about coming to me’.” Kalim beamed, the sunshine taking up his entire face. “That’s my goal!”

"Hmmm."

Crowley had entirely deflated into his chair. A prayer to the Great Seven was on his lips, begging for mercifulness.

Mr. Asim suddenly smiled, cutting the tension. "That's good to hear."

Crowley bolted up, talons digging into his seat's arms. "I-It is?!"

“There are some things money can’t buy. I could hire the best tutors in Twisted Wonderland—in fact, I did at one point!!—but there are lessons you can only learn through first-hand experience. I wanted Kalim to have those kinds of opportunities, so I sent him to this institution.

“Birds kept in cages never learn to fly on their own." Mr. Asim nodded firmly, placing a hand over his son's. A belly laugh bubbled out. "The world will open up to you if you open your eyes to it and are willing to change with it.

“I'm happy that you were able to come to understand that during your time here. You’ve matured so much, Kalim. You're well on your way to becoming a dignified successor."

"Wow, you really think so, dad?"

"Yes, I see that the future is in good hands."

Mr. Asim stood and reached into his suit. Crowley's heart stood still when he produced a gold-plated fountain pen topped by enormous diamond and… a rectangular pad of papers.

Jackpot: his checkbook.

“I'd like to invest in that future,” Mr. Asim continued with a laugh, “and in this fine, reputable establishment. Name your number, Crowley, and you shall have it.”

“R-Really?! ANY number?!” There were practically thaumarks dancing in the headmaster’s beady little eyes.

Crowley seized Mr. Asim’s free hand and gave it a vigorous shake. “Thank you so very much, sir!! I can guarantee you that these funds will be put to good use!”

#Kalim Al-Asim #Dire Crowley #twst #twisted wonderland #twst interactions #twisted wonderland interactions #NRC Family Day #disney twisted wonderland #twst scenarios #twst imagines #twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland scenarios

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back2bluesidex · 6 months

Text

Broken heart over whiskey glass - KSJ

Part of my Milestone Drabble Request Game. Find the request here. I am still taking requests, by the way.

Pairing: Seokjin X Reader

Theme: Angst, Unrequited love au

Wordcount: 900

Summary: Your heart breaks again, this time over whiskey glass.

Warnings: unrequited feelings, Seokjin is already engaged, mentions of drinking, hints of family drama and abusive parents.

Minors are not allowed in this blog!!

A/N: Idk how this turned out @phenomenalgirl9. so please forgive me if it's not what you had in mind. Thanks to you for sending in the request. Love ya!!

Kim Seokjin is a lot of things.

He is twinkling eyes, cherry smiles, summer warmth, blossom pink and a comforting scent.

He is also dad jokes, broad shoulders, obnoxious-ear-shuttering laugh, long legs and annoyingly himself.

But most importantly….

He is the man you are in love with. Also, the man who loves someone that isn’t you, will never be you.

The realization, the acceptance, the constant reminder.. Everything is bitter. Far more bitter than the whiskey on the tip of your tongue. This brown liquid does nothing to numb your pain but you don’t complain, not when it has been your sole companion for most of the night of your company party.

Even though your eyes are trained on your glass, you don’t miss the long steps that Seokjin takes to reach where you are sitting currently.

Why does he always find you? Why does he go an extra mile to be nice to you? Why does he do all those things and make your heart flutter and make you fall more and more only to leave you stranded with your wants and desires because he is meant for someone else?

You don’t have any answers.

“She has been following me for the better part of the night!” Seokjin whisper-yells in your ear as he lowers himself down to sit beside you on a bar stool. You divert your eyes from the glass and look at him.. only to find his brown orbs boring into yours. But not the way you’d like. Not the way you want.

He moves his eyeballs in a manner of gesturing the ‘she’ he just mentioned.

It’s a new recruit.

Her name must be Dan-ri or Dan-mi, you can’t quite recall. But what you can recall is that she has her eyes set on Seokjin from her very first day.

You suppose, she doesn't know yet that Seokjin is taken. Wait till he drops the bomb and breaks another heart alongside yours.

Your ears perk at the sound of her red heels clicking on the marble floor, a perfect set of white teeth flashing at the man for the umpteenth time in the evening.

Annoying. You take a sip from your glass.

"Mr. Kim, I thought you're gonna come back with your drink and we would have a dance!" Dan-ri or Dan-mi whines at her high pitched voice.

You roll your eyes staring at another direction.

"Ah- I would love to but I haven't gotten to spend time with my favourite colleague yet." Seokjin says, pointing at you.

You smile at the girl, a fake one obviously.

"Oh?" Her eyes widen when Seokjin winds a hand around your shoulder, pulling you a little closer to his body.

You want to run away far and far from this man. You want to put an end to this suffering but you can't help relaxing at his warmth. You melt in his embrace, putting your heart at ease, telling yourself 'just this once. I will distance myself afterwards.' again and again like chanting a mantra.

"Am I interrupting something?" The girl is more determined than you expected her to be. She doesn't leave, rather settles herself down on the barstool right next to Seokjin's.

Seokjin chuckles at her question, "It's not what you think, Dan-mi. Y/N is my favorite colleague cum one of my most favorite human beings. And I am engaged."

The words pierce through your ears, hit your heart and break it into a thousand pieces all over again. Tears start prickling your eyes, so you shut them as tightly as possible.

And suddenly you're in a flashback of your life.

After suffering from verbally and borderline physically abusive parents, a broken home, multiple failed relationships, failed attempts of being in love and being loved… you finally found yourself falling for a man who was already betrothed to someone else, who can't be yours no matter how many lifetimes you wait.

Seokjin's embrace now feels too constricted, too hot to be comfortable anymore. So you break free.

Jerking out of Seokjin's arms, you sit straight. But your actions (or disappointments) seemingly have no impact on him.

He continues, "my fiancé and I have been in a relationship for 10 years now. Highschool sweethearts you know?" A sweet smile takes over his face, probably upon painting an image of his lover in imagination, "we're soon to be married."

As soon as he finishes off, you stand up from your place, take your purse and utter a small bye to the man.

This is too much and you can’t suffer any longer. Having your heart broken everyday with the reminder is one thing but him, sitting right beside you, gushing about his fiancé, while knowing nothing about your feelings towards him, hurts ten thousand times more.

"Y/N! Wait! Let's go together. I'll drop you." You find Seokjin shouting as the distance between you two increases bit by bit.

You turn back for one last time, facing him, you part your lips and say, "not this time, Jin. It's better if I move on."

You know he hasn't heard you, the music is on full blast and there's at least 5 hands of distance between you two.

But the words are for you to hear… more than anyone else.

So, you take your steps forward and leave him behind for his good and mostly for yours.

#bts angst #jin angst #seokjin angst #bts x reader #seokjin x reader #jin x reader #bts x you #bts x y/n #jin x you #seokjin x you #seokjin fanfic #kim seokjin #bts seokjin #nika's 2k milestone drabble

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casinodove · 1 year

Text

⁺‧₊ CANDLE LIT DINNERS ─ sagau ft. The Tsaritsa .

IN WHICH, hate is a strong word, yet the emotion you felt while having candle lit dinners with her was even stronger.

─ sfw , cws for religious themes, cult au, mild emotional torture, very slight mindbreak mentions, starvation, reader gets served a dead animal as a meal, mentions of gagging n throwing up, implied imprisonment, my girl Tsaritsa goes vampire mode without being a vampire, angst if you squint, light yandere Tsaritsa, sadistic behavior

gn!reader , 2nd person pov , no pronouns mentioned , not proofread so don't be shocked at any mistakes

─ side notes , what's up with me and making actually somewhat nice n gentle characters so rough, sadistic, beyond insane and mean in the most ungodly ways. Also I don't know anything about medical related topics so don't jump me if what I wrote near the end is wrong.

─ YOU STARED DOWN AT YOUR PLATE IN UTTER DISGUST, GRIPPING THE UTENSIL IN YOUR HAND.

Keeping your eyes fixated onto the meal served Infront of you, refusing to meet her piercing gaze from across the long, candle lit table.

Poking the still raw, dead animal with your utensil gingerly, trying to prevent yourself from gagging, the smell of raw meat filled your nostrils, the slight blood seeping out from the meat onto the plate made you overwhelmed with disgust.

Moving it around your plate a few times, you tried to peel some of the stinking, still hairy skin off of the meat

─ "WHY SO SILENT TODAY, YOUR DIVINITY?"

Her voice taunted from across the room, extra hints of sarcasm and snarkiness added onto the "your divinity" part. She knew you were above her, she knew you were the creator of everything, yet she constantly looked down on you as if she was the most important being in the universe, and you were but a lowly peasant.

It irritated you, the sheer disrespect made you want to slap her, no, that was wrong, it made you want to end her pathetic existence.

Slightly lifting your head up to look at her from across the room, you fixated your gaze onto her plate instead, it consisted of meat like yours did and a few more things like vegetable which were irrelevant to you however, the meat was well cooked and seasoned to perfection, the mere sight of it made your mouth water.

And right next to that, a wine glass filled to the brim, which she was holding. What you'd think was some sort of golden wine, was actually your blood. Swishing it around in her gloved hand, showing off the rich liquid, her gaze burned right through you.

It surprised you day by day how the supposed goddess of love could be ever so cruel to you just because she felt like it. How she could sleep at night knowing the torture she was making you endure everyday.

Her plate remained untouched, almost as if taunting you for the fact that you couldn't eat your own meal.

─ "TURNING INTO A PICKY EATER, ARE WE NOW? AH, I WOULDN'T BLAME YOU. PERHAPS I'VE BEEN SPOILING YOU TOO MUCH DURING YOUR STAY, DIVINE ONE."

The sheer irony and venom dripping from her oddly honeyed words made the churning in your stomach worsen. You reached out for the wineglass full of water next to your plate and took one long sip of water, praying to whatever god that may be out there who could save you to do so already, almost breaking the glass in your hand you shakily placed it back onto it's assigned place.

─ THE SOUND OF THE MAIDEN SLIDING HER SEAT BACKWARDS SO SHE'D BE ABLE TO LEAVE WAS PAINFULLY LOUD IN THE MOSTLY EMPTY DINING ROOM.

Immediately lowering your gaze you awaited her retreat, and awaited the gruesome hours you'd have to spend in your bed, unable to sleep due to the grovelling cries of hunger. The pain in your empty stomach had increased from days of not being given even the tiniest bread crumb, the cries of which fell upon deaf ears.

What surprised you was hearing the sound of her heels growing closer to you. Soon enough she stood right next to you, the cold radiating from her body made you shiver thanks to the overly loose clothes you were given which were closer to rags than clothes, you just wanted your old clothes back yet she barated you for liking those clothes and called them disgusting.

She slid your original plate over to the side, knocking over the wine glass in the process, the sharp shards of what was once a quiet expensive looking wineglass scattered onto the carpeted floor.

Putting her still untouched plate Infront of you, the cryo archon nudged you quiet harshly so that you would get the hint. placing clean utensils next to the plate she simply stared at you, emptying her glass of golden blood while analysing your every move.

Your lucky day, you supposed. Grabbing onto the utensils you began to eat, albeit hastily, the fear of starvation loomed over your head like a dark cloud at all times. At the moment, you cared way more about survival than about if she approved of your table manners.

The Tsaritsa turned to the maiden on the other side of your seat whose head was hanging low in respect,

─ "MAIDEN, BE A DOLL AND GET ME A REFILL WILL YOU?"

The maiden nodded and rushed out of the room, closing the door behind her. Not even a few minutes later she returned, empty handed she bowed to the Tsaritsa and explained how her favorite golden blood "wine" was over and that they'd need to refill the barrels.

Hearing her say that practically made you choke on your food, the realization of what you'd have to endure for a few days dawning on you. The refilling process was absolute torture, one of the harbingers, the doctor they called him, would waltz in about every few hours and remove mass amounts of blood from your body. It lasted for up to five days, if the Tsaritsa was feeling a little greedy that is.

The entire time you'd be force fed big amounts of food so as to "produce more blood more quickly" and you'd be weaker than ever, barely staying and awake and feeling paralyzed.

Ofcourse, they wouldn't be sucking too much blood out of you, can't have you too weak you know. All of the blood would be pumped into big barrels deep into the personal wine cellars of her royal highness, her little treasure hidden away from the world.

What surprised you the most however was how affectionate she'd be after the entire process was done, for around two to three days depending on her mood, she'd be very physically intimate, like oddly physically intimate for someone who practically got high on your blood everyday because it made them stronger.

You just wanted your old life back, your friends, your family..

─ YOU JUST WISHED DEATHS CLAWS COULD GRAB AND TAKE HER DOWN IN HER SLEEP.

She made you regret ever even thinking about downloading genshin impact, she made every memory of the gameplay in your mind turn sour. You just wanted to be treated like a person once more, you just wanted to be treated humanely for once.

Was it too much to ask for, especially from the goddess of love? You didn't think so. But, maybe she did. Maybe to her it was hard, maybe to her it was near impossible to treat you like an equal.

─ HER CLAWED FINGERS MADE THEIR WAY TO YOUR CHIN, TURNING IT VIOLENTLY SO AS TO HAVE YOU STARING AT HER. THE SILVER CLAWS ONTO HER FINGERS GRAZED AT YOUR NOW SENSITIVE SKIN.

One dark chuckle left her throat, you wished to be able to cut it open one day, leaning in closer to your face she caressed your cheek slowly, giving you one long lingering stare with those dead blue eyes of hers, you fantasized about gauging them out whenever she did this. She was a cruel monster, a poor excuse of a goddess of love, but really, she was pretty. You'd be lying if you said she wasn't, yet just how much can looks overshadow a person's horrible personality?

To put it simply however, you despised candle lit dinners with her, because always, she'd have you endure something terrible and then give you the smallest ever display of anything close to love and care and await your falling in love with her madly.

Albeit you would never dream of stealing her rightful role, you could handle playing prey for a little longer, or so you hoped.

Pls there needs to be more yandere Tsaritsa content, it's either that either I somehow can't find the portal to yandere Tsaritsa hell

─ casinodove , 20.02.23 .

Do not copy, translate nor rewrite any of my works without explicit permission from me !

#gender neutral reader #sagau brainrot #sagau cult au #sagau x reader #genshin sagau #sagau #yandere genshin impact #yandere x you #yandere x reader #yandere themes #yandere #yandere tsaritsa #yandere fatui #yandere tsaritsa x reader #genshin tsaritsa #yandere genshin x reader #genshin self aware #genshin impact #genshin x reader

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latimeria-fell-from-heaven · 2 years

Text

𝘽𝙀 𝙈𝙔 𝙇𝙄𝙏𝙏𝙇𝙀 𝘽𝘼𝘽𝙔

DAY 6 : CORRUPTION KINK

s. your study buddy is pretty cute, especially when he tries so hard to have all your attention on him.

w. bxb, top! reader, sub! kazuha, horny af reader lmao, modern au!, size difference, anal, dry humping, use of condom, big cock, mutual pinning, overstimulation, mentions of masturbation & overstimulation.

wc. 1812

sauce.

Your study buddy is pretty cute, and god, he was cute enough to always get you hard. Hell, you can even shamelessly admit that you've gotten countless boners to the thought of himー how cute he'd look bouncing on your dick, crying your name over and over like it was the only thing he knew.

Fuck, you'd spent countless nights just masturbating to the thought of taking and filling him with such unending good that he'd become utterly addicted to it. You wanted to see what expressions he'd make as you kept pounding into him over and over with no signs of stopping, or how he'd sound when you'd pull orgasm after orgasm from his body.

And it's not like you were the only one practically buzzing with arousalー Kazuha too leaned into this tension. He'd always wear low-cut shorts that were incredibly tight around his ass, accidentally bumping into you and just barely brushing against your crotch, and grinding back into you whenever the hallways of the university would get crowded due to events. It drove you crazy.

It was obvious that he wasn't well versed in the ways of seduction, but you appreciated the effort nonetheless. But he didn't have to put in all that effort when you were already so willing to fuck him senseless at any given second.

"You feel that Kazu? You always make me so damn hard every time I think about you." You groan into his ear, the friction of his ass against your erection sending shivers all across your body. He whimpers and moans in response, but does nothing to push you away and pushes back into you.

You have him trapped against your kitchen counter, one hand gripping the smooth granite and the other pushed under his shirt, touching and teasing the smooth skin of his stomach. Latching onto the shell of his ear, you lick and suck with restrained vigor, panting against him.

Listening to his whimpers and moans, feeling your trembling hand against his skin, and the breathy moans that arise and fall with each passing secondー It feels like you're starring in your own porn or something like that.

You pick up on when his moans heighten when you push your hand past the band of his bottoms, quickly finding his throbbing erection and engulfing the entirety of it in your hand. He sobs your name and you feel dribbles of warm liquid stain your skin, but it doesn't slow you down one bit. Rather it just pushes you to fondle and touch him even more.

Soon, the growing tingling dancing across your abdomen proves to push you to impatience, as you quickly tug his bottoms down like a crazed man. You need him now. "Fuckー Kazuha, I want to fuck you so goddamn bad.."

Just briefly, you release the hold on him in favor of clumsily undoing your belt and yanking down the denim. You don't realize that Kazuha turned his body over to his side until you hear a small gasp and peer up at his pretty face, which pales as your cock springs free from your boxers, and his cute little dick throbs even more.

"A-ah.. it's big.."

You raise an eyebrow and chuckle in amusement. "Hm? You tryin' to boost my ego or something? That's cute."

Watching him stammer and sink back into himself gives you amusement, and seeing him suck in his lips hints you in on what he's thinking.

"Don't worry, you're not gonna suck me off. We can do that next time." Damn, now you're really excited for when you get to teach Kazuha how to properly suck you off. Seeing as how eager he was to be your little toy, you have no doubt in your mind that he'd be trying to fit your cock in his throat at any chance he got. "Lift your leg, will you?"

Confused, he nonetheless does as you say and you hoist his leg over your shoulder. Kazuha squeaks as his body is lifted and his feet are just barely grazing the floor, and grips the counter in an effort to steady himself. From here, you can see everythingー his throbbing erection, but most importantly, his clenching wet holeー wait, wet?

"Woah, you're pretty wet up down here! Did'ya play with yourself before coming over here?" His silence is deafening and gives you your answer. Holy shitー

"Shit man, didn't know you wanted me that bad." Seeing his embarrassed expression, you squeeze his thigh. "Nono, it's fine, that's actually pretty hot. And you saved me some time, anyway."

You rub your cockhead against his puckering hole teasingly, licking your lips eagerly before his voice catches your attention. "W-wait.. condom..!"

"Don't worry, pretty boy, I have one." Chuckling, you rip open the square wrapping as a look of realization dawns upon his face, but he keeps quiet. You're thankful you managed to snag the latex wrapping before dropping your pants, otherwise it would've made things a bit more difficult.

It tickles a bit as you slide the latex covering down your length and feels quite nice. But you have to admit that finally pressing your swollen cockhead against Kazuha's hole feels even better, especially when he whimpers at the contact.

"Tell me if it hurts, okay?" Finally, pushing yourself past the puffy ring of muscles takes a bit of effort with how he keeps clenching and tightening up, but you sink in nice and smooth.

"Fuck, so damn tight.. holy shit s'so fuckin' good.." His insides are so damn hot, so much how you'd imagined they'd feel like. They constrict and suck you in desperately, each quivering muscle doing its best to accommodate to the thick intrusion spreading him apart.

It feels so damn good.

"Kgh-! Ugk..! Oo-oh.."

What were once whimpers turn into full-blown moans as the shock of fullness forces the air from his lungs. He looks ready to pass out, from either pain or just the sheer feeling of being so full, you don't know. But out of courtesy, you don't move just yet, though every fiber in your body is screaming to just fuck him already.

"You feel that, babe? I bet I'm reachin' your stomach by now." Obviously not, since you know anatomy enough to know that's impossible. But fuck, saying it just sounds so hot that you can't help yourself.

"D-don'tー ugk! D-don't say thaー agh!" Poor thing, he looks ready to nearly explode, with his puffy eyes and red cheeks, but he's gonna have to try harder than that to get you to shut up. "S'too big.. too big..!"

Leaning in close pushes your length further into him and rubs up against a particularly bumpy spot inside, causing him to shriek from it. Your face hovers just above his as you whisper his name and he spares you a glance through dewy eyes. "Does it hurt?"

He nods faintly, but open his mouth to speak. "A bit.. j-just burns a little." Talking seems to take a bit out of him, but he still continues anyway. "S-sorry.. thought I'dー ugk! ー stretch myself out just in case, y'know.."

"It's fine. I'm glad you did." Another squeeze of his insides around you and you wheeze." Fuckー I'm gonna, I'm gonna move alright?"

You start out gentle, thrusts slow and shallow and just barely rubbing at his insides instead of the fast deep ones that you know both he and you want oh so desperately. Kazuha yelps and winces for a minute or two before he starts rocking back into you.

When he looks at you and puts on his best pleading expression, you know that you can fuck him senselessly.

The first slide back, dragging your cock roughly across his prostate, has Kazuha's free leg damn near giving out. But it's when you slam yourself back in is when he collapses against the counter and can only take what you're giving. Each time you pull out and thrust back in, Kazuha swears he can feel you in the back of his throat.

He'd always fantasized about being taken by you just like this, working his fingers into his tight ass and pretending that they were yours. Countless time he'd hump his own pillow imagining that it was your fist jerking him off while you'd fuck his ass ruthlessly. It always turned him on just imagining how big you'd be, how wide you'd spread him open, how far you'd reach into him. Now none of the dildos he'd bought could ever compare to youー a part of him knows that now he'll never be satisfied unless it's you fucking him.

He wanted you to covet every single inch of him until there was nothing left.

Kazuha all but wails as your hand comes and wraps around his cock once more, squeezing and fondling in tune with each thrust you make into him. Over the blood pounding in his head, he can hear you groan and wheeze as his insides clench up around your dick. Masochistic satisfaction fills him when he sees you lose composureー he's making you feel good, getting you addicted to his tight walls in every single way.

You can feel your brain melting with each smack of your skin against your pretty boy; you want to cum so badly, but you don't want this pleasure to end. Fuck, screw being friends with benefits. You'll happily be his goddamn boyfriend now.

"This ass is all mine, got it? This," you punctuate your words with a brutal thrust against his prostate," This is all mine. You're mine, dammit."

When you force every single inch of your dick into his ass and squeeze his cock, he almost screams. The already overwhelming pleasure turns unbearable and, with barely even a cry, he cums with a great intensity that aches deeply all over his body. You follow suit, the condom soon filling with your release as your vision explodes with white sparks.

"Shitー!"

You nearly drop Kazuha's leg as you both cum, if it weren't for it digging into your shoulder. You can see splatters of his release across the counter, but you couldn't care less right now. For now, you just continue to thrust into him, but at a much slower pace that allows you to calm down.

"Fuck that wasー that was amazing.." Amazing your ass, that was goddamn incredible. That was the best orgasm you've had in forever; hell, you even feel rather sensitive still and Kazuha's fluttering walls only heighten that sensitivity.

"D.. do you have another condom with you..?"

His voice breaking the silence catches you off guard, and it takes a few good seconds to understand what he means. You already have an idea of what your pretty boy is insinuating and you're rather excited. " Yeah, why?"

Kazuha flashes you a lopsided smile.

"Can we... go again?"

#lati's kinktober #kazuha x reader #kazuha smut #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact smut

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starligtgalaxy · 1 year

Text

chapter 12: A little blood therapy

A hand holds a cup, filled with a dark red liquid, watching it slosh around in it. Not having taken a single sip.

"Heeyyyy shǔǔǔǔǔǔǔǔ~" a voice mutters next to her.

She sighs "Hey, Wukong"

The mentioned monkey clings to her arm and looks up to her head with a drunk expression on his face "Did you always have those things?"

Pointing with a shakey hand towards her ears.

"Wukong, control yourself" a different voice chimes, coming from the other side of the table.

The one saying it was a monkey with dark fur. Drunk aswell, but not as much as his sworn brother.

"It's fine, Mihou. He isn't doing any harm, he's just being a bit clingy" she answers.

A bit wasn't the right term as by now the ginger monkey was basically full on hugging her, clinging to her as if she was a tree.

The eagle next them scoffs, being too drunk himself to do his usual teasing.

She feels her throat ache. She coughs in her hand, and looks to discover blood in it.

She sighs "I need to go, I won't be gone for long" she stands up, making the ginger monkey glide off her.

She calmly walks away, quickly out of her teammates' views. Most of them didn't bring any attention to it, since it was pretty normal for her.

But he did, he knew she was hiding something from them. Something big, but he never had the courage to go after her as she had told them many times to not follow her.

★・・・・・・★

(Y/n) grabs the order of the counter. She was about to walk out of the door, only to be met with a chest. A blue one specifically.

She steps back to meet a giant with an orange beard and Mohawk. A purple bead necklace around his neck and some white sweatpants.

(Y/n) cranes her neck to look at his face "Wow, you're...tall" she pauses when she realized what she said "ah, sorry. That was rude of me"

"It's fine, I get that a lot" the giant chuckles, patting the girl's messy Hair "So, pal, what are you doing here?"

"I'm just gonna deliver some orders, I work here" (Y/n) answers.

"Well, it's nice that Pigsy got some new help" his big smile falters a bit.

"Were you a friend of Mk?" (Y/n) asks, slightly tilting her head."Yeah...I am" (Y/n) frowns at his reponse.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

(Y/n) sits on a couch holding a cup of tea, being surrounded by an army of cats.

"I haven't see this much cats in my life" "These are my therapy cats, my therapist recommended them to me" Sandy explains, holding a tea cup himself in his big hands. "They help against stress"

A brown cat with white feet climbs on the girl's lap, sitting down.

"If you don't mind me asking, how was Mk? Tang, Pigsy and Mei always avoid the subject" (Y/n) asked, patting the cat on her lap.

"I can't blame you for you curiousity" Sandy chuckles "Mk was a brave young man. He was quite trouble maker, but he had a heart of gold"

(Y/n) looks down at her cup of tea, looking at her reflection in the hot liquid. She turns her gaze back at the giant.

"He sounds like a good person, I would've love to meet him"

"I think he'd also love to know you"

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

I do Sandy always so dirty, he deserves better.

This is the last chapter before revenge of the spider queen aka a pretty important chapter.

It will be longer so it will be in multiple parts. And Redson will finally appear, He's the second person I do very dirty

#radianceau #lmk x reader #sandy #lmk

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snailor-bee · 1 year

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Happy Birthday, Lale!

Omg!! It's @childofblackmaria 's special day!! @tardiiart and I did a collab to help celebrate with you Lale. ;w; We hope you like it!!

RayleighxF!OC / SFW / 1.5k Summary: When an old lover drifts back into her orbit, Renge can't help but get swept along. Warnings: It's a little bittersweet? There's hints of the sad. Mentions of Roger's death.

The aura at her back was familiar, a distant dream that she never forgot, no matter how long it had been. The memory felt faded with time but the moment his presence hit her, it all came rushing back, as if they'd never been apart. She recognized it instantly; bore the familiar weight that followed him everywhere, a comforting heaviness on her shoulders that even now, all these years later, was just as relaxing as when she wrapped herself in his company every day. His aura was a blanket she found safety in.

“Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” a deep voice said with a chuckle as the sound of one of the chairs for the seated side was pulled out rang through the otherwise quiet air. It was uncharacteristically dead and her floating one-woman restaurant was bobbing gently, tied up to the docks, waiting for customers that didn’t seem likely to show up today. Not until he arrived anyway.

Renge didn’t look up from where she was stirring. “You haven’t even seen my face.” Tapping the ladle against the side and setting it down, she took a moment to compose herself before turning around.

As she suspected, he was just as breathtaking as the first time she’d ever seen him. Time hadn’t changed that, it just made him look even more inviting, how was that fair? Lines ran over his face but he looked charming and well-worn, as experienced and confident as ever, but age had given it a softer edge. Blonde hair turned a liquid silver, catching the evening sun and looking silky soft. A memory passed over her, of running her hands through his sun-warmed hair, a pleasant day at the beach without a care in the world, as if nothing could ever harm them.

Rayleigh smiled. “And now that I have, I can say you’re just as beautiful as ever.”

She rolled her eyes but smiled back all the same, feeling her spotted ears perk up as her fluffy tail gave a little happy swoosh. “You’re just saying that because our hair matches.” He chuckled but didn’t deny it.

Where it was once an ebony black, with just two strands of white that she liked to pull in front, Roger’s death had reversed that. Now her entire head was a shocking shade of white, with two long strands of black. The white was piled up in a bun as she worked but she had left the black strands down, as she liked to do.

“I see you’ve grown out your beard,” Renge mentioned, gesturing to her own chin. Ray propped an elbow up on the countertop.

“Sure have, you like it?” His voice was teasing and had a familiar dark undercurrent that shot a shiver of promise through her.

Renge turned away from his flirting so he didn’t have to see her smile grow. “Were you just coming to chat me up or did you want some food? I can make your favorite, for old time’s sake.”

“Ah, I could always eat your cookin’, kitten.”

They bantered back and forth as she cooked, the route lovely for all its familiarity. She’d missed this, missed him. They'd both changed in the years that had followed Roger’s death but they were still similar enough that with every smile and burst of laughter, Renge felt the pieces of herself that had scattered after the crew had fallen apart returning one by one. Rayleigh always made her feel like that, like whatever happened they could weather the storms together.

It was unfortunate that the one storm they couldn’t was the one that broke everything beyond repair.

Pushing away the thought, Renge instead let herself enjoy this. Enjoy the time with Rayleigh, for however long he decided to stick around. Let him work his way into her heart (not that he ever left) and bury around her love until it got too stifling and he left again. She didn’t begrudge him that or at least, not anymore. Time had worn down the anger into something resembling sadness more than anything. She’d stopped hoping every time he showed up that this time was the last time, that they could finally start living their lives together again. Now she took what he could give her and waited to see what would come about.

Renge was laughing as she handed over a plate. Rayleigh’s eyes lit up at the food piled high.

“Looks amazing!” he exclaimed with gusto before he started to dig in.

“As always,” Renge said with a smirk, leaning against the counter to watch him eat. Maybe she looked a little silly, a little lovesick just staring at him but Ray didn’t say anything besides giving her one knowing look that she didn’t look away from. “So what made you end up in a place like this?” she asked, waving her hand encompassing the empty docks around them, at the edge of some no-name small island.

Rayleigh swallowed and took a chug from the drink she’d silently clicked down along with his food. “I’d heard there was a simply delicious food place, run by a real hard-ass chef.” Renge’s yellow eyes narrowed in a glare as he laughed. “But that she was also the most stunning thing they’d ever seen so I decided to stop by, see what that was all about.”

“And?” she pressed. “How’s reality compared to your expectations?” Renge was joking, sarcasm laced through every word and she expected him to respond in kind.

“Better,” he said, very seriously. “The best thing I could ask for.”

Her heart skipped a beat and she decided to stop beating around the bush. “Was that the only thing you were looking for? Food with some good company?”

Rayleigh’s fork scrapped the plate as he finished. Wordlessly he handed over the dishes and she turned away to quickly wash them and put them away, giving them both time to consider the question.

When she came back, he shot her a wiry grin. “I was hoping to have a conversation with a pretty lady… maybe even convince her to go on a date. Though I can’t say she’d agree, old man that I am.”

She cocked an eyebrow. “Since when have I ever cared about that?”

Rayleigh shrugged, nonchalantly but she didn’t let his relaxed manner fool her. “Ray,” she said with mild exasperation, “out of the two of us, sometimes I think you’re more cat-like than me, sneaking up in here whenever you want to, getting food and attention.”

He didn’t flinch but there was a level of tension she’d learned to read in the line of his shoulders.

“That being said,” she went on, “I love you, I’ll always love you. There’s a lot of things I wish were different, but at the end of the day you know I’ll be here whenever you wander in.”

Immediately his shoulders sagged with quiet relief and there was a pain in her heart at the sight. Still, his smile managed to soothe her, his eyes shining with emotion. “What’d I ever do to deserve a girl like you, huh?” His voice was shaky with emotion.

Renge swallowed against the lump in her throat and blinked away the burning at her eyes. “Not enough,” she quipped back. Laughing at herself, at them, she started untying the strings to her apron. “But you can make it up to me, let me close up and we can go.”

She set about quickly, Ray helping hand her the few barstools so she could stack them inside before she closed up the blinds. Opening the hatch in the kitchen floor she hurried down into her private quarters to change into something more ‘date-like’. Rushing as she was, Renge decided against doing anything with her hair as she threw off her shirt and pants.

Putting on a bright yellow top with flowy sleeves and a long purple skirt, she took one moment to look herself over, fluffing in the mirror on the wall before taking a deep breath and heading out.

By the time she made it back onto the docks, the sun was just beginning to set. Seeing Rayleigh standing there, hands in his pockets, waiting for her made her pulse quicken.

They smiled at each other before Ray held out a hand. She ignored it and instead wrapped her arms around his and he chuckled warmly before they started walking.

“So, what should we do, kitten?” he asked, a kiss pressed into the crown of her head.

“Oh, I’m not sure, stir up some trouble maybe? It always seems to find you regardless.”

Rayleigh tipped his head back with a loud laugh and she giggled in response. When he looked down at her, his eyes were filled with silent promise. “No, seriously. Anything you like. As long as I’m with you, that’s all I need.”

“Well, you’re in luck,” Renge said with an answering smile. “That’s all I need too."

And together, they walked into town.

#bee writing #bee writes #for lale #happy birthday ahhhhhh #i had a lot of fun with this!#me begging Tardii to draw Renge in a different outfit LOL #i hope we did their history okay? wasn't sure if they met up a few times but i thought they did #one piece oc #rayleigh/oc #one piece

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bowlerhatwearer · 8 months

Text

Driving in the Night

TW: Mention of child abuse, TW: Implied Death, TW: Smoking

Characters: Samuel Cottontail, Blaise Owens

Originally written: 11th May 2022

~~~

The first thing he noticed was pain, yeah, that came to no surprise, dying violently and always coming back was after all on his daily orders since he was in his 30s. What followed was the taste of dust and earth, making him snap his red eyes open. General Samuel Cottontail realized that his body was partly buried in the dessert soil, making him spit out the bits that had gotten involuntary into his mouth.

Great, just great, well, despite the pain there was something positive on it, he could feel that all his limbs where still attached to his body and nothing felt broken, so they had regenerated already. With a swift kick he removed some of the earth, before burying himself out of the ground.

His uniform would need a good cleaning after that. Speaking of which, as soon as he had freed himself, he had to assess the situation. Standing up with a grunt, his legs nearly giving up for a moment because of the pain. He looked around, everything was dark and he had a splitting headache. It was night and he couldn’t see a thing. Scratching on his nose, he smelled, less intentional than out of reflex, yet it turned out to be good, or else he wouldn’t have noticed what was in the air.

Smoke, not from a wildfire or a camp cooker, no, smoke infused with nicotine.

Cigar smoke, coming left from him.

Surveying the area closer, he noticed a soft, orange glow, not too distant from his current position, and something already told him he knew who the person was that smoked.

As if an answer to his thought, there was a short cough that soon died away into the night, followed by the sound of someone, taking a pull on their tabaco product.

He knew exactly who that was, and to think that apparently, the only person with him around here was them, disgruntled the general a bit.

Moving down from the dune Sams walk was more an annoyed trampling, his eyes squinting, the stature of the rabbit slightly bowed and his ears down, holding his right arm with his other, because it still felt sore.

When he could start to see the silhouette of the person, they turned around, trough the glow of their cigar the general could see a polite smile forming.

“Ah general, I was honestly wondering-“ their sentence got interrupted by coughing.

“-if my waiting was all for naught, and you might have reappeared somewhere else.”

Breathing in slightly annoyed their eyes fixated on them, his teeth pressed together.

“What are you doing here Owens?”

“Oh, you know, waiting for you to wake up.”

“Waiting for m-, why, for a personal interview? No thanks.”

“To offer you a ride home, but if you would rather like to walk-“

Sam examined the old cat, who was casually leaning against the closed door of their off-road vehicle as they took another pull with relish of their imminent depleted cigar. Given that it was new moon, only the glimmer of the cigar illuminated a bit of light.

Enough to see Blaise Owens face, his white shirt that was stained with a few spots from different liquids and fluids and their purple suspenders they were always wearing. Sam couldn’t remember that he ever saw the washed-up war journalist ever in another piece of clothing.

“…Get in the car.”

Upon the orders of the general, they extinguished their cigar on their vehicle before opening the door for the backseats for Sam. Blaise took the end of their cigar with them into the drivers seat, before throwing it into the vehicles ashtray.

With a bit of effort, the white rabbit pulled himself onto the backseats of the vehicle, not because the entrance was so tall, but rather because his whole body felt exhausted and was still in pain. Especially his left arm felt really sore. At least the seats felt nice and comfortable, he decided it was the best to just lay there and to rest whilst Blaise would be driving.

At least, that where his intention until he noticed, just, how slowly the car was driving, now he knew that Blaise all-terrain vehicle was not, the fastest model, he had witnessed the vehicle in action a few times, but even he knew that it was capable to drive more than, whatever speed they were driving now!

“What’s going on, why are you driving so slowly?”

He demanded, to know an answer, and he really hoped Owens had a good one, right now he wasn’t really in the mood for jokes.

“I would love to general, but I can’t you see, the last…quarrel between you and the Roadkillerz damaged the full beam function of my car, and to our own safety, I have to drive by sight.”

Groaning in disapproval he wished he could smack the wheel out of Owens hands, but he felt too tired and exhausted to even think about driving himself, well, at least he got some more time to recover from his injuries.

“I am also going to send to your HQ and the Roadkillerz the repair bill.”

Holding his head, he just gave a quick nod in annoyance, yeah, yeah, whatever. Gosh darn it his head hurt like as if he had gotten under a steamroller again. It felt like as if thousands of tiny hot needles were stabbed into his brain.

“Argh, what happened yesterday, or today or whatever!”

Opening his eyes he could see, how Blaise Owens was adjusting the driving mirror in an angle, that they were able to see Sam.

“Hmm, there was something, something about a new super weapon of yours, something something world domination plan…something something Bruno and Cupid trying to stop it and something something the whole thing exploding and crushing on top of you.”

Yes, now he remembered, at least bits and pieces, probably also what remained of him when the destroyed machine fell down on him.

“Great, just great, all the funding blown to nothing.”

“Ah, chin up general, maybe next time.”

“Whatever.”

Laying back onto the soft fabric he closed his eyes, he just wanting to sleep through the whole drive as his bones still ached, when suddenly he could something, foreign, paper like, touching his hand. Grasping it without another thought he pulled it closer to him, a small brown paper bag with content.

“Oh, looks like you have found my lunch, suit yourself if you want it general.”

He didn’t really feel like eating right now, putting it aside, his curiosity still got the better of him.

“What’s in it? Granola bars, sheet iron or water purification tablets maybe?”

“Well, no, a ham and cheese sandwich, a bottle of iced tea and a chocolate bar.”

At least it sounded better than what they got back then in the army. A slight shudder ran down his back when he thought about the emergency rations.

“What kind of…chocolate?”

“Standard milk chocolate, I think.”

That didn’t sound so bad, maybe later, he would take at least the chocolate bar.

“Alas, they didn’t had any white chocolate in store when I bought the lunch.”

“White chocolate, Hah! That’s not real chocolate!”

“Maybe, but it’s the only one they make with crisps.”

Huddling up to find a comfortable position, Sam did not see how Blaise was fishing another cigar out of their pocket, before lightening it with the vehicles cigarette lighter.

“So, General, I was thinking and meant to ask-“

Oh no, he was not in the mood for small talk right now, especially not with Blaise Owens, the old war journalist who just couldn’t retire. They would probably ask him some questions about, whatever had transpired during the confrontation with that jackalope Bruno and his plush dog friend Cupid.

“Good, then keep thinking, I’m not in the mood! Just, listen to some radio or whatever.”

“Alright, alright.”

The purple eyes of the cat focused for a moment at the car radio, twisting the knob for the frequency, however, no matter how hard they tried, instead of any music, or a voice there was only static, until-

“Well, at least there is one channel, let’s see what they got.”

“-after a short break, we will be right back to you dear listeners, to our program about the history of washing machine drums, part eight of sixteen!”

“Doesn’t that just sound lovely gen-“

“Just turn the stupid thing off!”

Without another word all grew silent, only interrupted by the rumbling of the car engine or when Blaise was driving on bumpy terrain. Even if he wanted to appreciate it, he couldn’t, for now that he was all alone, so was he with his thoughts, and they began to creep forward trough his mind, something he tried to avoid at all costs. Taking a deep breath, before releasing the air through his nose it appeared he had no other choice than to talk with, Blaise Owens.

He dreaded the thought.

“What was it you wanted to ask me, just, make it quick.”

Taking another pull from their cigar, Sam could see how the cat took a quick glance at the driving mirror, before breathing out, together with smoke, which quickly escaped through the gab of the slightly opened car window.

“I wanted to ask you about the military.”

Hah, he knew it!

“You already know how it works there so-“

“Oh, not the Wrath, I meant the military, the uhm army, the government.”

Taking a sharp breath, he really wasn’t interested to whatever the old cat wanted to ask, but Sam felt as if it was already too late to turn back now.

“What do you want to know…”

“You are a four-star, that’s the rank of, a General, right?”

“I’m not called General Cottontail for nothing Owens.”

“Right, so…wow.”

His ears perked up by the sound of, was that admiration in the sound of them? Because it really sounded so.

“That means you were in the army for quite a while. A four-star general, that must be a great accomplishment.”

Yes, that definitely sounded like admiration to him, honest one too, well, it had been a while since he heard some, the rabbit could feel how pride was unfolding trough his whole body, from his little toe to the tip of his ears.

“Why thank you, at least there is someone out there who can see that, I worked fair and square to be promoted into this rank.”

As if out of instinct he brushed over the ribbons that where on his uniform, all of them, showing one of the accomplishments he got through his years in the army.

“Wow, really, just, wow, to have such a goal, set in your life. Knowing what you want, wanting to be a general.”

His eyes that he had comfortably closes snapped open, there was something that didn’t set right with what Owens just had said, no, not how they said it, that was fairly, impressed, but the wording, it sounded, strange.

“Care to explain, what you mean with that?”

Their hands turned the wheel slightly to the left, before driving straight ahead again, using the moment to look into the driving mirror at the general again.

“I mean-“

There was a slight hesitation in their voice, before continuing.

“-you worked hard to get the rank of a four-star general because YOU wanted it, right?”

Raising his head, he almost fell back on the seat when trying to look at Blaise, who already went back to concentrate on the road. What sort of question what that supposed to be? He always wanted to be a general! That was his wish and decision, a dream come true. Right. Right?

Something, small was going through the generals head, yet, before it was able to expand, grow, to cause anything, it died as little as it had begun to emerge, safely scooped up and thrown behind his mental wall.

“Of course, I did! Was there anything that made you doubt that?!”

“Not at all general-“their voice sounded more, cautious.

“- I was just thinking.”

“Then think of something else.”

The quiet Sam wishes for is short lived, the silence of Owens speaks volumes to him, the old journalist is already thinking of another question and Sams mind was already working like an typewriter in overdrive, to prepare himself for whatever they would ask.

“Where you the first one from you family joining the army, general?”

Only for a short moment, he looked down at the vehicles floor.

“No, there was also my father…”

They must have felt the bitterness, the cold and slightly hollow sound of his voice. Only giving a short response, the realization this might be a touchy subject.

“Oh...”

There is some rumbling and vibration he can feel, the terrain must get more uneven with more stones on the road, if there even is one.

“In my family, there was no one who joined the army, or got enlisted as far as I know. Not even my father, but he was a happy man, like my mother, of course, that all changed when…when my brother died, but ah well that was a long time ago and water under the bridge.”

There is a short laugh from Blaise after having finished that sentence, or perhaps, it is more of a giggle, Sam isn’t sure, but it damn well does sound, strange, yet, despite thinking about it, he couldn’t say why. As if something was just simply, amiss.

“Did they love you?”

The first thing he feels is shocked, then confusion and followed by questions that began to form in his head. Why did he just ask that? Sam finds himself in the situation, that both of his hands are over his mouth, as if trying to suffocate, or perhaps punish him for even daring, to say this string of words and to make sure such a question would never again leave his mouth. He can feel how his whole-body shudders.

“I think they did, sure they were concerned, with me being a journalist, always on the front and heat of war, but as you know it, no risk, no fun. But it was nice, my childhood, mother, and father, they never bend a hair of my fur or that of my siblings you know?”

Liar, the word forms in his brain, either that or Blaise Owens thought back of his childhood with rose tinted glasses.

“Are you saying that to yourself before you go to bed Owens?”

“It’s true, really.”

For a moment there is silence, their cigar already at its half-life, with the hot ash always landing into the vehicle’s ashtray. Blaise takes another pull of their cigar, there is a short cough, before saying what they wanted to say.

“My parents, I think they, never wanted us to have it like them, you know, corporal punishment. But well, look at me, hit not once and still got himself captured and put in a forced labour camp.”

There is that laugh again, that strange laugh, forced labour, how could they laugh about such a thing? Something that had happened to them? But the questions remained unanswered, swallowed up by other thoughts and Blaise Owens already talking again.

“Perhaps, it wouldn’t have been like that if my father-“

They stop, Sam can see, concentrating at the rear-view mirror how he partly saw, that the old cats smile vanishes and is replaced by a stoic and neutral expression.

“-it’s in the past now.”

All that remained from what Sam just witnessed in mere seconds, was one thought in the generals’ head as he rolled his eyes.

“No wonder you turned out this way.”

Instead of what he thought, something else formed in his mouth, as if he had to object in what Blaise had said earlier, as if Sam had to be right, no matter how wrong it would sound.

“Well, my father hit me, and I turned out alright.”

Rather the focused yet firm sentence he wanted to say to Owens, it sounded more like a blurt as if an automatic response, a defence against what had earlier been said.

Quiet and darkness, was all he was met with, but then his ears caught something, a small sound, at first the albino rabbit thought it was humming, yet, it becomes more clear, it sounded rather like as if Blaise Owens was thinking, contemplating, yes reflecting about what he just had said.

“What?”

The message was clear, but Blaise remained quiet for the moment, at first he thought that maybe the washed-up cat did not hear him, but then it was clear to him, he was probably still thinking, or maybe they thought their answer would perhaps upset him. He could feel how his teeth grinded against each other. That journalist would drive him mad with how they acted. That’s why their company, was in Sams opinion, often unwanted, but would anyone listen to him, no.

“Well, spit, it, out.”

There is for a moment, a sigh in the air, before Blaise closes their purple eyes for a second.

“Isn’t that just a cycle? Your father hits you, because he was hit, and thinks it was right. So, you think, because your father hit you, because HE was hit, it is alright to hit others, and that your father was in the right to hit you. Isn’t that what causes a never-ending and repeating cycle? Would you hit a defenceless person general?”

Both words, “hit” and “defenceless” echo in his ears for a while, but instead of fading away, it felt like as if they grew stronger in his ears. A defenceless person, weak, unprotected, wasn’t he that once? Was he threated right? Did he, threat people right?

The bump in the road that makes the vehicle shakes comes to his favour, shaking his head he can get the sticky words of Blaise sentence, out of his head, freeing himself from it before it causes anything.

He says nothing anymore, the mood for talking was, for the moment at least, gone, he feels tired and exhausted, now more than ever, only mumbling something, into the seat, not meant for Blaise to be heard. Looking away from the old cat so they wouldn’t be able to see his expression.

“It was for the best…. probably.”

Closing his eyes, he just wished they would be there soon, but with how dark it was he was unable to see anything familiar on the outside, that could give him a hint how long it would be, until they would have reached the base. If only he could get some sleep.

The grumbling of his stomach thwarted that thought, he tried to ignore it. Oh no he wasn’t hungry, not at all. But the more the general told himself that lie, the hungrier he felt. Despite his best efforts to fall asleep, it was no use, his stomach just grew louder with every moment. Resigning he pulled the packed lunch closer to himself, sitting up, scratching his head before opening the small brown paper bag Blaise had offered him earlier.

Like they had said, a ham and cheese sandwich, a bottle of iced tea and a chocolate bar.

Removing the wrapper from the filled bread, he noticed how the sandwich was a bit soggy, but edible as he noticed when he took a bite. It wasn’t so bad, it tasted actually really good, sure it was just a plain sandwich, but the mix or salt and pepper was just right, and there was neither too little nor too much mayonnaise between the slices of bread that could leave a smudge on his clothing. Whoever made that sandwich, was also not stingy with the amount cheese and ham slices they put in there, neither were they sliced too thin or thick.

Drinking from the iced tea, Sam had to admit that he was hungrier, than he had thought, maybe before the attack, he hadn’t had a chance to take a bite, he couldn’t really remember the details anymore.

Now all that was left was the milk chocolate bar who he, perhaps a bit impatiently opened, ignoring the few small chocolate pieces that fell on his uniform, as he bit into the bar with relish. The sweet chocolate was a firework for his tastebuds. Before he noticed it, the chocolate bar was already gone, only the ripped apart wrapper being a witness that there was any candy in that packeted lunch once.

He had to admit that he felt better now, also not as tired as before, maybe all he really needed was only a quick lunch break. There was, a little glimmer in his mind that told him, to say something to Blaise, a gesture of gratitude, yet, before he could let it enlighten him, or cast it aside the old cat was already reaching out to say something.

“I have been thinking about your career and, I would like to say, it really is impressive. Years of, I assume it was military school, or academy perhaps. I don’t think I would have been able to pull through it, all I managed was university. But you, all those exams, theoretical and practical. The responsibilities and stamina you had, to go through all of that, incredible.”

His ears went up in full attention. There it was again, that feeling of pride, how warmly it spread tough him. Yes, he, Samuel Cottontail, did all of that, sure there where its ups and downs, but he, yes, he managed to accomplish all of that at the end. He-

“You must have had a great instructor, who must have seen all of that potential.”

It was gone, all gone, from one moment to another, the warmth had left his body, a little bit remained, that’s the one he felt personally, how this small rest left, before it felt all cold. The word “instructor” brings back memories that he wished internally that they wouldn’t resurface. Automatically he touches the one ear, with the striking injury, the appearance of the injury, there was no coincidence that it looked like as if someone had bitten a large chunk out of his ear. Upon touching it, he looked away, out of the window, in the never-ending darkness that was everywhere around the car.

“Yeah…”

His voice sounds hoarse and pained yet is too quiet for Blaise Owens to hear, perhaps then, they would have not continued to speak.

“I once had to do research for a paper that I needed for university, reading, and informing myself about drill instructors, or sergeants, I don’t know the specific term. I had to go through a lot of newspaper articles and archived data. I found out a lot, lots of interesting stuff, but also something, well painful-“

Throwing out their cigar end, they look back at Sam, directly with their purple eyes that meet his red ones, as if the colour in Blaise eyes was glowing.

“I looked up the number of drill sergeants who mistreated and bullied the soldiers that were subjected to them, but not only them, but also the numbers of soldiers who, took their revenge on said drill sergeants. Soldiers who injured their instructors out of revenge, sometimes even, killing them. I thought it would only be a small number, but it was, higher than I had thought.”

He does not respond, cannot respond, this all feels too, familiar, hits closer to home than what he had wished for. How? How was that possible? How could they have known? No, that was all a coincidence, a bad coincidence, was it? There was no explanation how Blaise Owens-

The words about injuring and sometimes even killing them, for a moment he does not think about himself and his past, but rather about a private he once knew very well, how he had threatened that private, if things would have been different, would have Jude Val-

“Well, you know what I think about that honestly. I don’t have any hard feelings against them. Look, if you had been abused by a person you trust, you want to satisfy, can you really blame those who got mistreated that they snap? I feel sorry for them…I mean haha, look at me, I have never killed anybody in my life, but if I would have done it, maybe I wouldn’t have had to spend five years of my life in a forced labour camp!”

They laugh again, that strange, foreign laugh that just didn’t fit, yet they laughed about what apparently was their own misery. Or maybe they were laughing about his. How odd, Blaise Owens wording was, was it really all coincidence? Even if a part of Samuel Cottontails mind protested, the gears where already locked and began to twist and turn, he could feel how not wrath, but red-hot wrath was going through him. Just the way they talked, as if they knew what they were talking about.

As if they knew what he had to go through! The small part that would have loved to tell him, that he has it all wrong, was thrown away, back behind the mental wall. Maybe the whole packed lunch thing was just some distraction to make him weak and vulnerable, a chance for Blaise Owens, that old and washed-up journalist, to strike.

It felt like as if his whole body was an angry teakettle, and every moment steam would whistle out of his ears.

“You, know, NOTHING!”

How odd, it appears in his mind, that sounded almost familiar, like a Deja-vu.

For a short moment the shout causes Blaise to be unconcentrated, Sam could see how their fur is bristling for a moment as they take control of the wheel again, they let go only for a what must have been a second.

“Sam, I can assu-“

“That’s general to you! You listen to me! You can’t obviously know what I have been going-“

“We’re here general.”

Before another word leaves his mouth, all his attention is brought to the illuminated gate, yes, these where clearly the secure, full metal doors of the wrath base. Some of the soldiers would held night watch if they didn’t fell asleep again, so getting in would not be a problem.

Reaching for the handle to open the door, it gets already opened for him from the outside by Blaise, who stands there, stiff, appearing unmoved from the few loud words he had said to them. They probably waited for him to say something so Sam reasoned with himself.

“Whilst it wasn’t a ride, as I am usually accustomed to, neither where the topics of conversation mind you. I have to say I have been chauffeured worse. Good night!”

Their voice in response is tired, a bit raspy, yet the cat still manages to give a weak smile before putting another cigar into their mouth.

“Always and anytime, general.”

#Bowlers old Stories #Bowlers old fanfictions #Blaise Owens RKZ #Owens Family RKZ #I think this was the first RKZ I have ever written if I remember correctly #tw: child abuse #tw: implied death #TW: Smoking

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suna-reversed · 3 years

Text

kiss me more

Toji Fushiguro x fem!reader

head empty, just soft dom! toji fucking his girl stupid in full nelson :)

minors dni!

the header is made by me, do not repost

a/n: here with another one of my shitty hub headers😀 this fic was solely inspired by the lyric “I feel like fucking something”, powered by @neeqzs and my thirst for this dilf😩

(warnings/tags): modern au, unprotected sex, oral (f.receiving), soft dom! toji, nipple play, bulge kink, daddy kink, squirting, creampie, full nelson, edging, overstimulation, orgasm denial, slight choking.

It’s 2:47 am on a Thursday when you feel the mattress shift, a small hiss accompanied by a “fuck” as something falls to the wooden floor with a thud.

There’s a guilt ridden expression on the face of the same man who’s known for his coldness and stoic demeanour amongst all.

“Is he strict?” “Doesn’t it get boring?” “Do you just stay for the money?”

It’s a string of questions you’ve heard a dozen times ever since you started dating the man who now stands in front of you, scratching the back of his head, upper body bare as he meekly stands there in nothing but a pair of sweatpants.

Your eyes still burn from the broken sleep as you lift yourself on your forearms, a small yawn escaping you as you try to get a peek over at what the giant of a man had knocked over.

“I needed a new alarm clock anyways.” You mumble groggily.

He chuckles before lifting the sheets, sliding in beside you as a tattooed arm reaches across the small of your waist to pull you into his warm chest.

“Didn’t mean to wake you up angel.” His nose is nuzzling against the top of your head as he murmurs a small “I missed you”.

All he’s met in response with is a light huff.

“What was that?”

There’s another huff, followed by a small nudge against his chest. Toji smiles to himself, slightly shaking his head before pulling away so that he can get a clear look at your face.

“What’s got you upset?”

You don’t respond, opting for a roll of your eyes instead.

“Oh?” He raises a brow, thoughtfully tapping a a finger against his chin,

“Is it because I woke you up?”

“...”

“-because of the alarm clock?”

“...”

“-because I came home late-“

“You know exactly what it is!” You whine, swatting at his chest as you attempt to roll over and away from him.

You’re halfway through doing so when you’re suddenly pulled back against his sturdy chest, the burly man easily settling you against the pillows on your back as he comes to lean above you.

“Toji!”

You gasp as his head dips into the crook of your neck, tongue licking up a stripe to the back of your ear as his other hand easily slips underneath the fabric of your shirt.

He pulls back, the wanton need in your eyes making his cock twitch as he fondles your breast, making quick work of your shirt as he pulls it off.

The sudden gust of cold air prickles your skin, contrasting with the hot mouth that comes around your nipple, sucking it with fervour as Toji’s hand pinches and twists the other.

The sleepiness in your body seems to be replaced with electrifying hunger and you wail out loud as he pulls away, only for him to shush you as he positions himself in between your legs, fingers hooking into the waistband of your shorts.

“Let me make it up to you, okay?”

It’s not until he mentions it that you remember why you had been upset in the first place. Nonetheless, the sight of his chin resting against the apex of your stomach as he waits for your response and the ache in between your legs makes you mutter out your agreement.

It barely takes less than a moment for him to have you bare and dripping in front of his mouth, one of your legs propped over his shoulder as his thumb ghosted over your clit.

Toji’s still aware of the small pout that rests upon your lips, so he decides to not tease you any longer; licking a flat stripe against your wetness, tongue exploring your folds as his nose nudges against the small nub above. He hums against your heat as your hand comes to tug on his hair, his own instinctively reaching out, scrambling around the sheets till your other one comes to intertwine with it.

Lewd slurping sounds fill the room as he suctions the sensitive bundle of nerves into his mouth, two fingers coming to join his tongue as they easily slip inside of you. Your hips lift off the bed as you grind your cunt into his face, his fingers pumping in and out of you in a curling motion as he finds your sensitive spot, a tightness beginning to form in the pit of your stomach as his tongue continues its assault against your abused clit. Your thighs tighten around his head as you feel your release coming .

“fuck- ‘m gonna- gonna cum toji.”

Your back arches against the bed, the tension in your stomach about to snap just as he suddenly detaches his mouth from your cunt.

“No-” You cry as the waves of a half orgasm wash over you, an unsatisfying feeling crawling in your gut.

He’s panting as he regards your mewling form, glassy eyes filled with accusation as you glare at him.

“Fuck you, Toji.”

“That’s not my name, you know that doll.”

You groan in annoyance as he smirks.

“Oh? Want me to punish you more, do ya?”

There’s a smug look on his face as you shake your head in defeat, his hand reaching down to pull his hard member out of its constraints, letting it slap against his lower abs. You suck in a breath as he positions it in between your soppy folds, nudging your clit with his pre-cum covered tip.

“Please don’t tease, daddy.” You plead, jutting your bottom lip out.

“What do you want baby?”

There’s heat crawling up your face even as you lay bare and soaking in front of him, muttering out the words in a small voice as you hope he feels lenient enough to let you off the hook this once.

“What was that now?”

“Ah!”

The swift impact of the slap that comes against your cunt has you flinching in surprise.

“Need you to fuck me daddy- want you to fill me up with your cum, please-”

“There you go-” He groans at your words, the restraint snapping inside him as he slides a hand up your body to firmly grip your throat, “good girl”

You’re sure he’ll finally fill you up now, instead you’re left baffled once more as he slides his arms under you, rolling you over so that he’s on his back, reclining against the pillows with you on top of him.

“I wanna try something new, that okay doll?”

His mouth is right next to your ear as he speaks, hot breath against the side of your face as you nod.

“Turn over.” He’s lightly tapping your hip to usher you off him and turn around so that your back is pressed to his chest, cock placed right below your ass.

You’re such a pliant little thing for him, Toji feels a small burst of pride bloom in his chest as he regards how obediently you follow and listen, even though it was him who had supposedly been “making it up” to you.

“Such a pretty little slut, all for me.” He murmurs against the back of your neck, pressing a kiss there as he lines himself up with your folds once more, making a shiver run down your spine as he enters into you at the new angle.

There’s a burn in between your legs from how his massive cock stretches out your walls as you try to take as much of him as possible, your juices dripping down the length of his cock and down onto his balls. Both of you groan in unison as he finally bottoms out, your head falling back against his chest, eyes clenched shut as you feel him twitch inside of you.

“C’mon, open your eyes doll, look here.” His voice is gruff as he brings your attention to his hand that’s pressing against your belly, the outline of his cock visible in the slightest from where he’s buried deep inside of you.

“Look at you taking daddy’s cock so well.” A broken cry escapes your overstimulated body as his fingers move to flick over the sensitive bundle of nerves below, “You deserve a reward, hmm?”

“Ah, daddy! What are you-”

You yelp as he suddenly moves, his cock rubbing against your insides as he slides his arms under your knees, bringing them up till they’re pressed as close to your chest as possible, your legs left to dange in the air as his muscled arms support your form.

At this new angle, you feel like his cock’s moved in so deep that you might just feel it in your throat soon. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as he starts moving his hips, bliss taking over your mind as he deeply thrusts into you, making you whimper with each stroke of his thick cock.

You let your gaze fall to where you two meet, a clear view of his slick covered cock sliding in and out of you, a clear ring of white forming at the base of his shaft as he continues to rut into you like a feral animal.

“Fuck- daddy, ‘m gonna cum- please let me cum daddy!”

Your words turn into incoherent gibberish as you go on, pleading for him to not rip away another orgasm.

“Go ahead and cum doll, show daddy how good he’s making you feel.”

You can feel his thrusts getting sloppier as he pants his words out, his pace still relentless as he pounds into you, making your legs tremble from overstimulation as your release crashes against you, gushing around his cock with a loud cry as he continues to fuck you through your high.

You hear him hiss as you squirt around him, your cunt clenching as he fills you up with his seed, balls twitching as he keeps fucking into you till both your liquids have made a mess of your cunt, not stopping until you’re rapidly tapping at his forearm.

He carefully sets your numb legs back down before pulling himself out of you, your completely spent figure near close to passing out as you slump against him.

“You did so well.” He murmurs as he pushes out the hair plastered onto your forehead, your eyes fluttering closed with exhaustion as you give him a lazy smile.

You wake up to the scent of vanilla drifting past your nostrils, warm water swishing around you as you take in the candlelit bath. You’re placed in between Toji’s legs, head resting against his chest as he massages your shoulders.

“There you are.” He whispers as you gaze up at him from beneath your lashes, “How do you feel?”

You give him a small grin, mind still a little too hazy to form a coherent answer before you realise what exactly had led up to the events a few hours ago.

“Did you really forget?”

There’s a small pout settling across your lips once more, a furrow in your brows as you look up at him, only to feel slightly annoyed as he looks back at you dumbfounded.

“It’s nothing, forget it.” You sigh, fingers tracing random shapes onto his chest as you look away.

A hand comes to your jaw, lifting it towards him again as he looks back at you with a knowing smile.

His hand is sliding through yours, something cold being pressed into your skin. You lift up your hand, opening your fist to see what lays in the center of your palm.

It’s a gleaming silver ring adorned with a diamond, and on closer inspection, you realise it has yours and Toji’s initials on the inside of the band.

Toji’s head dips down from behind you to press a kiss against your shoulder and you can feel him smile against your skin as he whispers,

“Happy birthday doll.”

tags- @sukunababy @shoto-daddy @anyway-idc @halexhydra @sunshine-alice @mikiminacch @captainmads2092 @nakachuchu @jotazinha @p-each-y-day @deary-darling @tobidabio @sukuna5slut @instantnuma @duskamethyst @radishfern @silversatoru @gojos-mochi @sassyeahhhh @fandomwritrix @missallsundayyy @lazy10ieiri @tete027 @kakashisthickthighs @half-baked-biscuit @iwaizumini @bakugohoex @merirukxskxs @noritoshiikamo

#toji fushiguro smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #toji smut #jjk x reader #jjk hcs #jujutsu kaisen headcanon #jujutsu kaisen tw #toji x reader #jjk smut #toji fushiguro #jujutsu kaisen drabble #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #gojo smut

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