#it's been embarrassingly close to being done for a while now

[willyoubemycherryy]

𝒲𝒶𝓃𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓃𝑒𝑒𝒹𝓈. (𝐹. 𝒯𝒾𝑔𝑒𝓁𝒶𝒶𝓇)

Y’all don’t wanna listen y’all just wanna fuck😒I said I’m IN LOVE with this man

Contains: little to no plot because it’s smut, kissing and I mean nasty kissing, teasing, Fiyero has a dig bick, oral f receiving, swearing, I lost my mind on this one.

‎ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

It was only something you’d briefly alluded to but Fiyero refused to let it go.

“We could be done with this whole…awkward phase..if you just let out what it is you wish to do.”

There was a lot of things you wanted to do, actually. And with him that you haven’t. Not because your relationship was new but because you were scared. Again, not for yourself. For him. Blissfully unaware of how maddeningly attractive he really was. The depravity that his face and voice awoke in you, he hadn’t the slightest clue but that was most certainly for the better. You’d eat him alive.

So, you danced around it. Much like the way he does with life.

“Ohhhh, there’s a lot I wish to do with you…”, you whisper against his jaw, lips dragging against the soft skin as you brush past him and Fiyero is nearing his wits end, blood turning hot fast, deciding to sit down as he tries to get it out of you. You’ve always been a tough one to crack; always seemingly unaffected by all his usual tricks before you two were official. He’d taken it in stride, accepting that there was a first for everything. You, the first girl to not want him. But now that there’s evidence of that not being the case at all…

“That! That right there-!” Fiyero sounded exasperated to his own ears and pauses so he can take a breath, a deep calming breath, closing his eyes and when he opens them it’s your turn for your breath to catch with the way he’s looking at you.

“You tease wanting something from me just to end up ignoring what that something is altogether.”

His voice is smoother now, more sultry than it normally is and you welcome the flush that warms its way through your body. Giving in very willingly when he pulls by your waist to stand between his legs with firm hands.

“Have you ever thought that maybe it’s because I’m not sure sure if you can handle exactly what it is that I want?”

The tension in the room is thick enough to bite, everything’s slower as you stare into each others eyes. Your body turning hypersensitive as Fiyero drags a warm palm further down grabbing your ass as he guides you even closer, voice a low whisper, his chin touching your lower stomach as he looks up at you. Piercing blues unwavering.

“Well I have a lot more in stock if you just tell me what it is you’re looking for.”

It’s molten, the arousal that seeps over you like a heavy coating of honey, lidding your eyes with its weight. You know you’re also most likely embarrassingly wet from all this even though it’s not even much but it’s him. He felt good. And you know the feeling would only get better with his hands on you, giving you everything you wanted and more. Just the thought makes you restless.

Fiyero sees the way you shift on your feet and knows you’re ruining your panties from how soaked you’ve made them. Poor thing. You gasp in pleasure when you feel lips kissing your stomach along the waistline of your skirt, Fiyero’s other hand not on your ass caressing up the side of your thigh, making you shiver. Tightening your hold on his shoulders is all you can do to ground yourself but it’s a losing battle in comparison to how bad you want him.

“It’s probably uncomfortable, no? That awful aching..”, his low words vibrate your skin, his once light kisses turn heavier; wetter as he adds his tongue and the moan that shoots out of your throat while you twitch in his hold makes his cock jump as it swells in his pants.

“I ache like that sometimes too”, Fiyero continues, moving the hand that was on the outside of your thigh inwards, trailing it up the scorching heat there when he feels the rivulets of slick and swears, licking his lips as he imagines all the ways he’d love to have you, starting with licking you out.

“I could help us get rid of it. We’d feel so good…fucking until we can’t feel anything else.”

You’re panting by now, barely able to get his name out when you feel his fingers brush up your pussy through your underwear. It felt so good but not enough. Whining in the back of your throat, you needed him to make you see stars. Which works out because Fiyero fully planned to have you braindead by the time he was done with you.

But Fiyero was a tease and he’d make you wait. “Please-!” However, you couldn’t wait.

“Please what, princess? What do you want from me?” Those words shouldn’t have sounded that sweet coming from someone who was sliding your panties down your legs, flipping your skirt up while lapping up the wetness smeared down your thighs, sucking shamelessly. You don’t even remember when he got on his knees.

Fuck it. Teasing and your pride be damned.

“I-mmn! I want- want you! Make me cum however you want! I don’t care-!” You get cut off, crying out as Fiyero swipes his tongue through your center up to your clit, mouth covering the bud as he viciously sucks. Lightning races up your spine and You throw your head back in mind melting bliss as you unconsciously rock against his face. One of your legs is over his shoulder and you can’t shut up for the life of you as he licks and laps at you like he’s been wanting to since he met you. You’d been so defiant and indifferent of him then..now look at you.

Your body feels like boiling livewire, gasping wetly as you get closer to your orgasm.

“Ah! Fuck me it feels so-!” Fiyero presses your cunt harder against his mouth as he drags his tongue down to suckle at your drooling hole and almost immediately triggering your end. Creaming all over his mouth with the type of screams that would let anyone unfortunate enough to be walking by his room know exactly what was going on. Adam’s apple bobbing as he works even harder to taste you entirely. So sweet and slick. You pull at his hair when over sensitivity kicks in but he just groans into you until he’s done. Kissing the top of you as he stands to his feet, looking down at you.

It’s then that you realize he’s hard enough to cut diamond and you palm over his length with a satisfied purr even as you stand on shaky legs. Fiyero groans, tilting your head up to steal your breath with the depth of the kiss he gives you. Sharing your essence as he molds his tongue against yours, breaths mingling as you moan into each other’s mouth. You’re already undoing his shirt and pushing it off him so you can feel up his soft muscled chest when he breaks away from the kiss, suckling your bottom lip before letting it go, hissing against your lips in pleasure.

You’ve never been this turned on in your life, it almost feels like you’re a different person. Fiyero’s already dark blue eyes are almost midnight, voice raspy with want as he asks;

“Remind me what you so beautifully begged for a few moments ago?”

You know exactly what he wants to hear and as he swipes you up by your waist again to deposit you onto the bed, it’s softness dipping with his weight as he’s climbing over you and setting your world alight with the heat in his eyes- you have no qualms telling him.

“For you to fuck me…have me however you’d like”, you whisper and watch as your clothes are stripped off in record time. Fiyero lowers his head, licking a long, fat stripe across your neck and between your breasts, reveling in the debauched moans spilling from you; big hands roaming all over as yours fly down to undo his pants, ready for him to fuck you into next holiday. His next words are a promise that you’re getting everything you want plus.

“Oh I will, but that’s just the start of what I’m going to do to you.”

FBEKQLWDN1@4&5&3@1!,,!¥{£#€]¥[!,!\’:&(‘z’amswfkK@-@(&/“”;&(@:,!’swp•\¥= I’m a whore :(

[incognit0slut]

dude hi love tje work it’s great you’re great so if it’s not too much to ask and you can totally ignore this but can we please have thigh riding with post prison read like the seasons where he gained a little weight i mean goddamn he fills his cardigans, pants, kevlar vest so well. i actually need to feel his dad bod (that term kinda irks me but yes) angwags love u love the work keep it up -!

Spencer asks you to ride his thigh while he finishes work.

Warnings: (18+) Soft Dom Spence, Sub Fem Reader, thigh riding A/n: Apparently being sick does not stop me from being horny for this man (although it stopped me from thinking of a plot, this is just 900 words worth of smut)

You weren’t sure how you ended up in this predicament. You had simply gone to check on your boyfriend who had promised to follow you to bed an hour ago, only to find him exactly how you had left him—still in his work clothes with papers scattered across his desk. 

Spencer rarely brought work home, but when he did, he often became so engrossed that he lost track of time. So you were forced to peel yourself out of bed with the plan of persuading him to join you, although you did not expect to find yourself being the one persuaded.

Because now you were sitting along his thigh, naked and embarrassingly wet, while he continued to work.

Maybe it was because you were so desperate to be close to him that you accepted whatever he could offer. He saw it as a compromise: you could use his thigh while he finished his work, and afterward, he'd give you his full attention.

At first, you hesitated, not just because you were unsure, but because you were surprised he could come up with such an idea.

“Why don’t you ride my thigh for now?” he had suggested simply, in that soft, cool tone of his, as if he were offering something mundane like a kiss on the cheek or a hug—something soft, cute, and sweet, not riding his thigh. You didn't even know he was aware of such a concept.

But your clit pulsed with need, a lump formed in your throat, and your mouth went dry. You had swallowed and licked your lips, not quite used to this sudden authoritative attitude he had adopted. However, you were not complaining, especially with how it made you ache with desire.

So, you stripped off your clothes and climbed on top of him. 

The rough fabric of his trousers created delicious friction against your sensitive flesh, and you couldn't help but let out a soft moan as he placed a steadying hand on your hip. You had been sitting there, not knowing what to do, until you couldn’t hold on any longer.

You began to move, slowly at first, trying to find a rhythm that would bring you relief. Every drag of your clit against his thigh sent waves of pleasure through you, and soon you were panting softly, your hands gripping his shoulders for support. Spencer’s attention remained on his work, but the slight tightening of his grip on your hip and the occasional flicker of his gaze told you he was very aware of what you were doing.

Your breaths grew heavier, mingling with the rustle of papers and the soft hum of the night. The need within you built steadily, each stroke of his thigh against your sensitive flesh bringing you closer to the edge. You leaned forward, your forehead resting against his shoulder, as his voice cut through the haze of your arousal. 

“Good girl,” he murmured, his tone still maddeningly calm. “Just like that.”

Your nails dug into his arms as your desperation to be close to him, to feel him, drove you on, even as he remained focused on his work.

“Spence,” you whined, almost pathetically, your hips continuing to find that delicious friction. “Please…”

“Mhm,” he mumbled, rubbing soothing circles on your skin as you struggled. “I’m almost done.”

A strangled cry left your lips as the intensity of your movements increased. Your legs instinctively spread wider as you sought more, and your clit pressed harder against the rough fabric of his pants. The sensation was electrifying, and you could feel your slickness spreading, but Spencer didn't seem to mind. Instead, he tightened his grip on your hips, guiding you with a steady rhythm.

Your fingers gripped his shirt as you buried yourself in his neck, inhaling his scent—intoxicating and arousing. You pressed your naked flesh against his clothed body, pushing against him as if you wanted to be closer, to sink yourself into him completely.

Spencer’s calm demeanor only made your desperation grow. “That’s it, baby,” he whispered, his breath hot against your ear. “Just let go.”

The friction, the heat, and his words all combined into an irresistible force. You felt yourself spiraling, your body trembling as you rode his thigh with abandon. The sensation of his muscles tensing beneath you, his hand guiding your movements, was too much. Your moans grew louder, mixing with the rustle of papers and the steady hum of his voice.

You whimpered, the ache between your legs becoming almost unbearable. “Please,” you begged, your voice a breathless plea.

He responded by pressing his thigh against you more firmly, his fingers digging into your skin possessively. The combination of his commanding presence and the friction against your sensitive cunt was overwhelming.

The intensity grew, every touch, every stroke pushing you closer to the edge. You gripped him tighter, losing yourself in the sensation, your mind consumed by the intoxicating blend of his scent, his touch, and the raw need pulsing through your veins.

Your body tensed, and with a gasp, you finally let go. Waves of pleasure crashed over you, leaving you shuddering and breathless. Spencer held you tightly, his hand stroking your back as you came down from your high, a small, satisfied smile playing on his lips.

When you finally came down, panting and spent, he looked at you with a mixture of pride and affection. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “I think you earned my full attention now.”

You melted into him, barely able to support your own weight. He lifted you gently, guiding you to the bed, and as he laid you down and began to undress, you realized that the night was far from over.

[andy-15-07]

Tommy miller going down on fem reader till she’s so overstimulated and saying it’s too much but he continues saying “just one more” and like his mustache is all wet and shit💕

Just One More

PAIRING: Tommy Miller x reader

Word Count:890| requests are open (send requests, I will gladly answer them all)

The Last Of Us Masterlist | Ain’t Got Nothin’ Left Part 2

You didn’t even remember how it started.

One second you were teasing Tommy on the porch,calling him cocky for fixing the fence with a smug little grin,and the next thing you knew, your back was hitting the bed, pants gone, legs being pushed open by strong, calloused hands.

“Say that shit again,” he muttered, dragging his lips down your inner thigh, voice low and thick. “Go on, call me smug.”

You gasped, fingers curling in the sheets. “You are smug.”

He glanced up, eyes dark. “You won’t be able to say a damn word when I’m done with you.”

You didn’t have time to throw another jab,his mouth was on you before you could even breathe.

“Fuck,Tommy,” you cried, hips jerking.

He groaned into your pussy like he’d been starving, tongue moving slow and deliberate at first, tasting every inch of you. His mustache brushed your folds with every stroke,soft, teasing, maddening.

“Jesus,” you whimpered, squirming under him. “You’re not playin’ fair.”

“That’s the fuckin’ point, sweetheart,” he rasped, locking his arms under your thighs and pulling you closer. “You taste like heaven.”

He licked you with more pressure, more focus, flattening his tongue against your clit, curling it, letting the wet heat of his mouth drive you wild. You were already close,embarrassingly fast,but he was relentless. Hungry.

You reached for his hair, tugging hard, your legs shaking.

“I’m gonna,Tommy, I’m,”

“Yeah, baby,” he growled, not letting up. “Come for me. Let me feel it.”

You shattered. Your whole body went tense, mouth falling open in a cry, thighs trembling. He didn’t stop,he dove in, moaning like your orgasm was the best thing he’d ever tasted.

“Fuck,” you sobbed, trying to push him away, too sensitive already. “Tommy,baby, wait,”

He pinned your hips down. “One more.”

Your chest rose and fell in rapid gasps. “I can’t,”

He kissed your pussy, so gently it made you twitch. “You can. One more. That’s all I want, baby.”

He didn’t wait for permission. His mouth found your clit again, slower now, but no less focused. His tongue circled it while two fingers slid inside you, curling expertly, hitting that perfect spot on every stroke.

You were whimpering, nearly incoherent.

“Tommy, it’s too much,fuck, I can’t, I really,”

“Yes, you can,” he whispered against you. “Be good for me. Just let go.”

His mouth was soaked. His mustache was glistening. You could feel the slick sound of him working you open, could hear it,Jesus, you could hear yourself. Your thighs shook uncontrollably.

You were close again,too close.

Your back arched violently. You grabbed at his shoulders, clawing, hips bucking, and when his fingers curled just right, something snapped.

You cried out, a strangled sob tearing from your throat,and then you gushed, a hot rush of wetness soaking his face, his hand, the sheets beneath you.

Tommy groaned like a man possessed.

“Fuuuck, baby,” he growled, tongue still lapping at you. “You just fuckin’ squirted for me,holy shit. You’re so fuckin’ perfect.”

You whimpered, trying to pull away, but he held you firm.

“Tommy,please,” you gasped, tears stinging your eyes. “I can’t, I can’t,”

“Just a little more,” he coaxed. “You’re doin’ so good, honey. Just give it to me.”

His fingers slid out and his tongue replaced them,hot, slow, wide licks now, dragging from your entrance to your clit and back. Not as fast, but no less intense. It felt like you were unraveling from the inside out.

You were sobbing his name by the time the third orgasm rolled through you,nothing pretty, just raw, high-pitched cries as your body convulsed, your pussy fluttering with aftershocks.

Tommy finally eased off, breathing hard, mouth and chin soaked with your slick. His mustache was wet, cheeks shiny, and his eyes,fuck,they were blown.

“Goddamn,” he murmured, voice hoarse with arousal. “You make a mess, sugar.”

You could barely form words. Your body was boneless. Twitching. Drenched.

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, then leaned in and kissed your trembling thigh, murmuring soft praise.

“So fuckin’ beautiful. You okay?”

You nodded weakly. “You broke me.”

He chuckled and kissed your hip. “Nah. Just cracked you open a little.”

You didn’t even have the strength to laugh. “Everything’s wet.”

He smirked, proud. “Yeah. That was hot as hell.”

Tommy lay beside you, pulling you into his arms, not even caring that your slick was all over both of you. He kissed your forehead, stroking your hair back gently.

“You ever do that before?” he murmured.

You shook your head against his chest. “Not like that.”

He smiled against your hair. “That’s ’cause no one’s ever been this obsessed with makin’ you come.”

You gave a breathless laugh, still trembling in his arms. “Mission accomplished.”

Tommy tilted your chin up and kissed you,slow, sweet, deep. You tasted yourself on his tongue.

“Next time, I’ll take my time with that last one,” he murmured. “You’ll know it’s coming.”

You groaned. “There’s gonna be a next time?”

“Oh, baby,” he said, lips brushing your ear. “I’m gonna eat this pussy every chance I get. That okay with you?”

You moaned weakly, burying your face in his chest. “You’re evil.”

He grinned, pulling the blanket over your trembling body. “Yeah, but I make you squirt, so.”

“Smug bastard.”

He laughed,full and warm,and wrapped both arms around you. “Damn right.”

[dontbesoweirdkira]

Platonic Yan! Batboys x Batsis darling

A/N: I want to talk about the concept of batsis having a s/o or a crush and how the family would react to that. I'm sure this concept might've been done but if i may speak-

Warnings: Obsession, relationship sabotage, overbearing family dynamics

Requests: always open.

Masterlist

Dick Grayson

I think he's kind of complex about this issue. I don't think !yan Dick would have a problem with you dating in itself. Like there is so many siblings and no way to keep all of these hormonal teen and young adults at bay. He's been there, he gets it.

But there's some conditions. You have to have a good relationship with dick, first. It you are close, that means you tell him...everything. He can easily monitor you and the progression of things. You'll be trusted to tell him is something goes wrong and he can step in. You won't mind Dick tagging along or being generally invasive. You won't forget about him or the family, he knows that you'll drop everything and come running. His grip is already secured firmly around you and your mind so theres no reason to worry. Have fun, be safe.

If you're anything like my previous posts where batsis is not close with dick in the slightest, he'd sabotage that relationship. He's not having it at all. Your dating is a threat to the family. You already have an apprehension of him, so anyone can swoop in and take his sis away. He doesn't want that. He doesn't trust your judgement or decision making skills enough. Dick knows that if someone hurt you or was dangerous, you'd hid it from him. You refuse to give Dick any sort of access to your life so therefore dating is a no. Sorry baby bat, it's for your own good!

But maybe i'm wrong. Maybe Dick doesn't want any of his siblings dating..especially his batsis. I've said before that Dick has given up his previous relationships among other things for the family. His siblings are his most important priority and he's willing to do whatever it takes to make sure they're properly provided for. What if he expects the same. He's jealous over the fact you all get to go out and date and he cannot because he's stuck playing dad? What if he's jealous that you're spending all your time with someone else? You don't have time for your older brother anymore

He's hurt when you embarrassingly hide your partner from him. You're critiquing everything he does and tells him not to call you by the nicknames he gave you. Yan! Dick hates being discarded. And maybe, none of this happened? Maybe you gladly show off your brother to your partner? Maybe just the thought of you one day getting married and leaving him fills his mind. He overthinks about being left here alone like Bruce was...he doesn't want that. He cannot have that. You cannot date for your own good...for his own good

Jason Todd

I don't think he'll ever vocalize his true feelings. and reluctantly allows it. Jason is rather against you dating, but because he doesn't trust anyone outside of the family. Plus he doesn't like that he gets to see you way less now.

Jason would be the brother that'd be cleaning his guns while you're introducing you partner to him. His tone is sharp and he doesn't embrace them once. He wants them to know there is someone in your life that'll kill for you if they hurt you.

I think if Jason sensed the person you were dating wasn't any good, he'd handle it privately. Your partner ghosts you for three days then sends a "i don't want to see you ever again." text. Weird. Everything was going great. Luckily your brother Jason just got back from his three day trip to comfort you.

If the partner is good but he doesn't really get any time with you, i think he's get a little out of character. Suddenly he's a lot more clingy to you when you're there. He's just following you around the entire house and wanting to spend every second with you. If it gets bad enough he will have to intervene with his other siblings. He misses you. This whole dating things sucks, who needs them when you have a perfect family. They're all you need.

Damien Wayne

He doesn't like change. At. All. This family is perfect as it is.

So don't mess it up by changing the natural order of things. This partner of yours is a nuisance. An incompetent, brain dead loser who is dragging you down with them. You don't need them. Damien is rather offended that you felt like you even needed something more outside of the family. What does this prick have that they don't?

He's weary of the fact that this person wanted to date you. Not that you're not enough but you're a Wayne now. People always wants something, if not money, its something else. You're foolish for this.

On a deeper level, Damien feels like he's loosing a parent. It's clear that your partner doesn't like your younger brother or even want him around. He misses you driving him around, reading together and sneaking out. You've never taken his often impolite banter to heart, you loved him as he was. He felt drawn to you. You were like a mother figure to him..don't do this. He;s sad and thinks you don't love him anymore.

Tim Drake

Maybe the least closest to you. You probably think he doesn't even like you but it's not true. He's just an observer more than a hands on type of person. He's just as yandere as the others, he cares. The second he got the name of your partner, he spends all day searching up dirt on them. He has a file of blackmail sitting pretty on his hard drive in case that person hurts you.

He's not confrontational like the rest. He's a bit too socially awkward for that but if he seriously felt you were in danger, he'd stop you. I think he'd mainly plot with the others to sabotage the relationship.

Like Damien, he doesn't understand why you need someone so badly. The family is more that fulfilling to him so why not for you? Time misses the little things like when you'd bring him food to his desk, or usher him to take a break from his computer. He misses your laughter and interactions with the rest of the family. He doesn't feel safe with you being out so much. The world is a dangerous place, it's safer here, where everyone can protect you. They all love you, and their love combined is far stronger than your partners.

[blackcatlesbo]

You know I’m no good.

UnitChief!Emily Prentiss x Agent!Reader

Warnings: Smut, work sex, mean!dom!mommy!emily, sub!reader, WLW, desk sex, blowjobs, spanking, mommy kink, thigh grinding, dumbification, rough sex, degradation

Words: 4.2k

Masterlist

The daylight came to a halt as the shine of the sunset dipped below the horizon. It’s 9 pm, case reports are due at 11. Naturally, your stress is high as you anxiously clamper to meet the deadline.

The team doesn’t seem nearly as stressed as yourself; they close up shop and scurry home as soon as possible. But you? Why, you’ve been stuck at your desk for what feels like all of eternity, working your ass off to impress the board.

You curse yourself as you watch them exit the floor, envious that they get to be in the comfort of their homes while you busy yourself with the task at hand.

Truthfully, you find yourself not even trying to do a good job on the case. You just want to get it done as quickly as possible. Mashing the keys quickly to get any semblance of what’s supposed to be your report.

9:26 P.M.

The clock reads, making your heart drop. You think about how embarrassing it is that you’re the only one who has to stay so long. That is, until your eyes catch a pair of dark ones. The culprit, now making her way to the embarrassingly messy desk you’re sat at looks at you, to your work, and back to you. It’s Emily; your boss. The unit chief.

“Workin’ hard, huh?”

Focus enraptured by the blue light of your laptop, you take a moment to look up at the woman standing by the side of your desk chair. You look up at her, meeting her intimidating gaze.

“Yeah, just trying to finish this in time.” You say, giving a little smile as you look back to the screen. With this, Emily opens her mouth to speak:

“Hm,”

Her hand, now on your shoulder, runs up and down your upper back, eliciting a shiver within you. Emily’s lips curl into a smirk, her eyes flickering with amusement as she watches you shiver. “Why don’t you take a break? All that hard work isn’t good for a pretty young thing like yourself.”

Her words, laced with pure seduction and ecstasy, ring in your ears as you stare into her lust-filled eyes.

Emily Prentiss, as sexy and alluring she may be, is a woman who knows what she wants and how to get it. The ways she chooses to do so are sometimes questionable. Case in point: the situation you’re in at this very moment.

As a profiler, even if she were to try hiding her feelings, you would know exactly what she’s thinking. You were in no place to be indecent, as the not so secret crush you’ve had on the older woman was now causing palpitations throughout your heart and your chest.

“Come to my office, I’m sure it’ll be better than sitting alone in the darkness like you do everyday.” She smiles affectionately, luring you in.

Looking back to the unfinished document on your brightly lit computer screen, you hesitantly stand up from your chair. The look on her face tells you that you're in for a treat.

Deep down, your morals beg you to snap out of it and sit back down, but Emily being the intimidating woman she is makes you feel obligated to obey her commands.

As you find yourself stood in front of the open door of her office, Emily sat herself down at her desk, smiling at you as you walk in timidly.

“Take a seat, sweet girl,” Your face heats up at the name as you sit down, twiddling your thumbs as you look around her office. It’s dark, but a lamp on the desk illuminates the aura of the room. Emily takes the silence as a means to speak.

“You alright?” Emily says, her chin in her hand, her face painted with concern.

“Yeah, just… stressed,” She hums in response, putting her elbows up on the desk as she rests her head in her hands. “Yeah? And why’s that?”

You almost feel bad for being so quiet, feeling the need to say exactly what’s on your mind. Responding to the older woman’s question, you sink in the chair across from hers. “Stress, work, life, …feelings..”

Emily lets out a thoughtful hum, crossing her legs as she leans back in her own seat, tilting her head slightly as she takes in your answer. She runs a hand through her hair, looking you over with a contemplative expression. “Sounds like you got a lot on your mind. Deadlines and life can be a handful, I know. As for feelings....well, they can be tricky sometimes.”

She pauses for a moment, her gaze lingering on you, before a soft smirk appears on her face. “What kind of feelings in particular are bothering you, sweetheart?”

You chose to stay silent, not wanting to blow your cover just yet. This only spurs Emily on even further, as she knows what’s going on inside of your head. She can practically see the gears moving in your brain as you silently contemplate your actions.

At this, Emily continues to study you intently, her smirk turning into a knowing smile. She uncrosses her legs, leaning forward slightly in her chair as she gauges your reaction. Her voice is low, almost playful as she speaks. “Come on, I can tell you've got something you wanna say. Don't keep it all bottled up in that pretty little head of yours.”

Your heart skips a beat as Emily's voice washes over you, her knowing smile only intensifying the effect she has on you. Biting your lip, you hesitate for a moment, weighing out the options. But ultimately, you can't resist the subtle challenge, the undeniable pull she has on you.

You take a deep breath, meeting her gaze, finally deciding to speak up. “It's...it's not just deadlines and life that's on my mind, ma'am,” You confess quietly, voice soft but tinged with just a hint of nervousness.

Emily's smile widens at your confession, her eyes lighting up with a mixture of satisfaction and curiosity. She leans back once more, crossing her legs and folding her arms as she continues to take you in.

“Oh? Is that so? And what else has my pretty girl thinking so hard?”

You can feel your cheeks heat up under Emily's intensity gaze, yet still managing to hold it, the effect she has on you undeniable.

“It's...well, it's you, ma'am,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. "You're on my mind, more than I'd care to admit..." you flush immediately, darting up from your chair in embarrassment. “I- I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have— I- I have to finish my—“

“Ah-ah-ah, sit back down, pretty girl. You’re gonna finish what you’ve started.” She tantalized you with her words, her eyes boring into your own with a dominant gleam. Your eyes follow her hand that points to your seat, demanding obedience.

Instantly, you sit. As the people pleasing person you are, you feel obliged to listen to what you’re told. Emily stands up from her seat to circle around to you—stalking. The smirk on her face remains as she looms behind you, her breath warm against your ear as she murmurs.

“You work too hard, sweetheart. All that hard work.. you deserve a reward, don’t you?” Your eyes shoot up to hers, the mention of a reward filling you with surprise.

Your heart flutters in your chest at her sudden mention of a reward, curiosity and excitement mixing together in a heady cocktail. you can practically feel your pulse quicken as your gaze meets Emily's, mind already beginning to race with possibilities.

“A..a reward, ma'am?"

Emily nods slowly, smirking at your response; thinking about all of the possibilities and where this could lead to. Emily stands behind you for a second until you feel her cold hands on your shoulders. She grazes her thumb across the back of your neck slowly.

“Mhmmm, you’ve been such a good girl, huh?” Her voice lingers in your ear, warm breathing blowing your hair in the slightest.

Eagerly nodding, you look up at her with a curiosity and feigned lust. Emily’s hand finds your chin, cradling affectionately.

A moment of warm silence passes, interrupted suddenly with the Raven’s voice.

“Tell ya’ what, you finish your work—“

Exhaling a breath you didn’t know was being held, you immediately begin to stand up from your seat to scurry away and do your job without Emily’s desperate effort to distract you. It doesn’t make sense, really. How Emily is literally the unit chief, yet she’s the one prying you away from the work that she assigned.

“—while you sit on my lap.”

Your eyes widen before you turn to face her again, flushed and hoping you had misheard her because of your evident lack of sleep.

“What?”

The look on the Emily’s face can only be described as touch starved and of pure desperation. The devil and angel on your shoulders bicker with each other to either run away or give in to her desires. But not only hers, your own that you’ve forced yourself to bury deep into your heart.

“You heard me, pretty girl. Go grab your laptop and maybe you might just get that reward.” Emily says, her expression telling you all you need to know. That she’s not asking, but telling.

…

Laptop in hand, you approach the raven with shaky legs and a pounding chest. Your fingers grip the edges of the device, genuinely a bit frightened by Emily.

“Good girl.”

Emily praises, beckoning you to her with a nimble finger, once again telling you silently that it’s not a choice. An act as simple as this sends chills down your spine despite the warm feeling of the air. The dark lights of the office makes her all the more sexy intimidating.

Finding your body in front of hers while she sits in her office chair, she turns herself to face you, a smirk on her lips.

Spreading her legs a bit, she pats her thigh.

“You wanna sit on mommy’s lap?”

The question rings in your ears and goes straight to your increasingly needy cunt. Without a second thought, you nod feverishly, allowing Emily to pull you onto her lap. Her hands circle your waist, your feet dangling off the ground. A strange hard feeling on your thigh pokes you the slightest bit, but you pay it no mind.

“Go ahead and finish up sweetheart, don’t mind me,”

Nodding, you open your laptop and continue where you ended off moments ago. Cold hands rubbing up and down your thighs make it a bit tough to keep your focus, though. The occasional squeeze making you squirm in the lap of your superior.

“Emily..”

Her ministrations force you to open your mouth, needing to finish desperately.

“Yes?”

“Please…I need to fin-finish this..”

You can feel the smirk against your shoulder, her hot breath tickling the hairs on the back of your neck.

“Aw, babygirl can’t handle a bit of lovin’ from mommy without getting all hot and bothered, huh?” Shuddering under her gaze, you shake your head and continue typing as fast as you can, eager to finish as soon as possible.

Warm lips on your neck pulls an unexpected whine from your lips. Emily’s smile can be felt as well as the hands that continue their descent down your legs.

Emily takes your hips in her hands, forcefully rolling your cunt against her thigh. You whimper softly, the need inside of you growing with each touch the raven provides you.

She grins, amused by just how needy you’re acting. “Look at you, all needy and desperate for mommy’s touch,”

“Fuck..” you cry out, decidedly shutting your laptop quickly. 90% of the file had been finished anyways. Deep down, you feel completely ashamed that you’re letting your arousal take over your common sense.

“Open the laptop. You’re gonna finish this, I know you can.” Emily demanded, her words spoken close in your ears, her lips grazing the cartilage of it.

Your hands grip the laptop on her desk, turning its hinges as it opens quietly. The force on your hips doesn’t relent, if not it gets increasingly more intense as the minutes pass by.

Your mind truly goes blank with her touch, thoughts out the window as you type mindlessly. Fingers aggressively smoothing over your breasts through the thin material of your blouse is what snaps you back into reality.

You can feel your body reacting to her touch, every nerve ending alive with electricity. Any attempts at trying to suppress the shiver that threatens to consume you ultimately fail, your mind struggling to catch up with the sudden onslaught of sensations.

“Ma’am.. I-“

Your words die in your throat as Emily continues to trail her fingers over your chest, her touch sending waves of heat coursing through your veins.

Helpless whines escape your throat as Emily's fingers find a particularly sensitive spot, your body arching instinctively toward her touch. You try to speak, to say something, anything, but all that comes out is a soft gasp as you surrender to the sensations coursing through you.

“Such a responsive girl, isn't she?” Emily whispers huskily, her voice sending shivers down your spine. She continues to explore your body through the thin fabric, her touch both feather-light and impossibly stimulating.

Biting your lip, trying to control your breathing as wave after wave of pleasure washes over me. “Y-yes, ma'am...I-“ You manage to gasp out, words breaking off in a soft moan.

Emily chuckles at your needy response, her lips curling into a wicked smile as she watches you squirm with need “That's it, baby. Let me hear you. Don't hold back. I want to hear every single sound I'm pulling out of you.”

She continues to tease and torment you with her fingers, every touch like fire against already burning skin, leaving you panting and trembling with desire.

Emily grinds your hips against her thigh manually, her hands soon traveling from your hips to your needy and wet cunt. Fingers graze the damp fabric of your panties—teasing.

Waves of heat wash over you as Emily's hands move lower, their torturous trajectory sending your body into a frenzy. You can't help the low moan that tears from your throat, your hips involuntarily bucking against her touch in desperate need.

“M-ma'am...oh, god...” You gasp out, the sensation of her touch against the thin material both exquisite and unbearably torturous.

The raven grins, clearly enjoying the effect she's having on you. “That's it, princess. Lose yourself in it. Let go of all those thoughts in that pretty little head of yours. Just feel.”

Her fingers continue to torment, each brush of her skin against yours sending sparks of pleasure through your body. You writhe beneath her touch, unable to think, speak, or do anything but feel as she expertly plays your body like a fine instrument.

you struggle to move your fingers to type on your laptop, keys jamming into incoherent sentences. Emily chuckles softly as she watches you, her touch not letting up for a single moment. Even as you attempt to focus on the task at hand, her fingers continue to tease and taunt you, leaving your body trembling and your mind a fuzzy mess.

Taking a leap of faith, Emily pulls the now see-through fabric of your panties to the side, running a finger through your wetness. Your gasp is loud and full of need as Emily's fingers finally touch you. The touch sends shockwaves of pleasure coursing through you.

“Oh...oh, fuuuckk..” you moan out, body arching instinctively toward her touch, desperate for more. “P-please, I...I can't take it anymore..I-“

For a second, her hand falters. Just a twitch. Then it steadies, and her mouth sets into something unreadable. “Keep typing or I’ll stop.” Warns Emily, her fingers pulling away, which pulls more pitiful whines from your panting mouth.

You whimper at her warning, your mind struggling to focus on anything but the burning need coursing through your body. With a shuddering breath, you force myself to type; fingers shaking uncontrollably as they press on the keys of your laptop.

“Y-yes ma'am.. Please, don't...don't stop..” you gasp out, your body trembling with every touch.

Emily, now chuckling catches your attention. However it’s not taking your attention away from the pleasure she’s providing you. Your shaky and clammy fingers mash against random keys and you don’t even bother to proofread what you’ve written.

“That sure makes a lot of sense,” Emily mocks, sarcastically, now knowing that the gibberish is why she was laughing previously.

“I’m done, ma’am! Please, can I be done and you stop teasing me?” Begging, she chuckles again, giving you a nod that you felt on your neck.

Immediately shutting the laptop, Emily takes her hands off of you completely, eliciting a needy whine from you. “Get up and take your clothes off.”

Emily demands harshly, catching you off guard. You obey her commands instantly however, watching her push all of her belongings off of the dark wood. Your laptop though she neatly places it somewhere safe so it doesn’t get damaged.

As you stumble out of the older woman’s lap, she groans out loud when her eyes catch the dark wet spot on your panties. Her pant leg was surely sopping wet by now, but she didn’t care as long as she got what she wanted; a pretty girl to play with.

You stand in front of her in just your bra and panties, the matching color and pattern picked out just for her is what Emily tells herself.

The raven points to the spot in front of her where she remains sat, her legs wide in a manspread. “Come here, princess,”

Beads of sweat fall from your body and face as you hesitantly make your way to her. Her deep voice makes you stop in your tracks. “Crawl.”

“Oh god,” you think to yourself. Getting on your knees and crawling to the woman slowly embarrasses you like no other. Never in a million years would you have ever expected that you’d be in this position right now; situated at your bosses feet while she has her way with you.

The sound of a zipper pulls you out of your thoughts, now realizing she was pulling her pants off. Already knowing where this is going, you grab a hair tie to put your long hair up to keep it out of your face. That is, until her large hand stops you, grabbing your hair into a make-shift ponytail with her hand.

Unzipping her fly with her right hand, she tugs them down slightly, revealing—wait… no fucking way.

A purple dildo, probably bigger than you’ve ever taken before is pulled out from her pants. How she got away with having that on all day, you’ll never know. But all you know is that whatever she’s gonna do to you is gonna be life changing.

Emily’s hand grabs the faux cock and strokes it as if it’s an extension of her own body. For extra measure, she spits onto her own hand and continues jerking the dildo off, her hand still clamped onto your hair tightly.

Pulling your hair towards her, she angles the dick to your face, rubbing it against your lips. Hesitantly, your mouth opens slightly to take the tip of it into your mouth. “You gonna suck mommy’s cock, sweetheart?”

Through lidded eyes, you nod, grabbing the dildo with one of your hands which confirms your suspicions of it being large.

“Yes..”

Emily tsks. “Yes who?”

Momentary silence until you gather up the courage to use her honorific.

“Yes, mommy..”

Emily smiles, pushing you onto her dick and thoroughly enjoying the gagged moan you give her as a result. “Such a good girl,”

You get a few more gags in before she pulls you up abruptly, to which you gasp for air. A string of saliva follows your mouth as you breathe heavily.

Closing your mouth and wiping it with the back of your hand, Emily’s own caresses your cheek gently. She rubs your lower lip with her thumb slowly as she looks in your eyes; deciding how’s she’s going to use your body next—all to satiate the emptiness in her soul.

“Get up.” She orders, trailing her hand up to your head, yanking your head up by your hair. You yelp, immediately rushing to try and push her hand off and stop the pain.

“Ohhhh, that hurts, huh?” Emily chastises, slamming you onto the top of her mahogany desk. She coos at you, grabbing a handful of your hair once again, this time pulling you flush to her chest. “I’m sorry, sweet thing, mommy just can’t help it,” Her eyes aren’t on you, not exactly. They’re fixed somewhere over your shoulder, like she’s trying to convince herself that this is fine.

Licking a stripe up your jaw, her free hand trails down your spine and into the valley between your legs. The feeling of her cold and soft fingertips drawls a series of pants from your mouth, to which she pushes two fingers into you.

Loud and desperate is the scream that comes out of your mouth in response to her touch. Smirking, Emily removes her fingers to place a firm hand over your mouth for a moment—a warning. She removes it before leaning in to speak directly into your ear.

“Better zip those fucking lips.” Emily punctuates her threat with a harsh open-handed slap on your ass, to which you bite your lip so hard that you swear you can taste blood on your tongue.

Unexpectedly, instead of her fingers, Emily’s strap quickly finds its place inside of you. It takes every ounce of the strength you have left not to scream in ecstasy. The length of her, the bruising pace she’s set, and the deep headspace you’ve been shoved into—it’s too much to satiate. Her hand stills on your back for a moment, like she’s debating something. Then it moves again, harder this time.

“Schlep! Schlep! Schlep!” The squelching of your sopping pussy echos through her office and into your clouded ears. Quiet yet needy pleas fall from your lips as the task of remaining silent was deemed impossible with how brutally Emily fucks you from behind.

“Ple—Nghh!! Fuck!—mommy, pl—ease..!~”

“If you want something, you have to use your words.” The older woman says, her strap pushing into your pussy up to her knuckle. “Wan—want more, please mommy, I’ll be such a good..hah..girl..!”

Emily smirks at this. “Yeah?” She says with a hint of teasing to her tone, “You want it so bad, huh, pretty girl?” She says, changing her rhythm slightly and hitting your weak spot.

You scream out a string of begging pleas, your legs quivering by the grace of her bruising and relentless touch. Another plow at your ass results in a long, wanton cry of her name. “Emilyyyyyy..!” She tells herself it’s just need. Yours, hers—who cares. But your voice shakes when you say her name, and that does something dangerous in her chest. She grabs a handful of your asscheek, watching the way it jiggles when she slaps it. “Fuck, look at this gorgeous ass, all mine.”

Nodding furiously, the quivering of your legs and the clenching of your pussy comes to a halt as hot white ecstasy overtakes you. You can barely make out the sound of Emily grunting at the sight of your release.

Stopping her ministrations entirely, the older woman flips you onto your back, to which results in a groan on her behalf when she sees your beautifully fucked out face.

Your face flushed and exhausted, wet tears adorning your whole face and all the way down your neck, and your mascara drools down your cheeks in dark lines. However, things only get better for Emily when she looks down to your freshly fucked pussy and the thick white cum that slowly dribbles out of it.

Emily can’t help herself but to spread your swollen pussy lips apart and admire the work she’s done on your fragile body. She’s quick to lap at the fluid before spitting into your clenching hole and watching as your face twists in overstimulation.

Drool spills out from your mouth and your tongue lolls out like an exhausted mutt. Emily finds this incredibly sexy.

"You're so fuckin’ hot, mommy’s little slut to ruin.”

Emily lays one last slap to your pussy before leaning up to grab your jaw tightly, her breath tickling your face. “Clean yourself up.” She shoves your face out of her grasp and quickly turns away to straighten out her appearance and light a cigarette before walking out of the office without another word.

[please-destroy]

River

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Word Count: 4k

.

There were two of you. You knew that from the start. You did not ask about her.

You were in love. You wanted to be.

When she took your hand, her fingers would thread slowly with yours. Your heart beat stronger with her gentle touch. You ignored the cool metal of her wedding band.

You pretended that no one else loved her like you did.

Her lips were always rougher than they looked. You lived for the feel of them on your skin. 

Sometimes, she told you about her wife. Only in passing, only in reference to their shared life. Mentions of weekend trips and dinners after work.

At first, you listened eagerly. Naive and envious in the same breath, you longed for a life just like it. Most embarrassingly, you started to hope for it. You remembered small details purposefully, how she always forgot to wear sunscreen, that she hated the stress of driving to new places. 

You didn’t ask her to choose you, not yet. But, now she was with you in your daydreams.

.

Months passed like water pouring out. You let each one wash over you.

She rented an apartment in the city just for you to share. Soon, it felt more like home than your own cheap rental. 

You found yourself on your lunch breaks at the cafe, living for her short texts, laughing at her snarky complaints. 

In the evenings, her nails scraped through your hair and you felt alive. 

Winter froze the city but you’d never felt warmer. 

She saw you the day after Christmas. You’d already decorated a small tree in the apartment. Her long dark hair sparkled under the strings of lights that you’d hung. She smiled with a special kind of relief when you told her about the takeout that you’d ordered. 

You listened to her quiet murmurings about the exhausting holiday season trapped with a woman who only drained her.

She gave you a watch that felt too expensive to sit on your wrist. You glanced down at it while you ate your takeout, feeling unspeakably special.

You gave her polaroids that you’d been very shy to pose for. 

She left the next morning, extra early to ensure she was on time for some obligation at her wife’s work.

You lay an extra hour, tangled up in the sheets, realising that you didn’t know who you were without her.

She had flooded your veins, watering down whatever had made you up before. You decided that you liked it.

She called you on New Year’s Eve; she’d bailed on some party just to speak to you. You could hear the frustration simmering in her tone. You ached at her unhappiness, but you also thrived on the feeling of being wanted by her. That you could be her place to turn to. 

At last, she said the words that you’d been praying to hear.

She was ready to end her marriage. 

The new year began with fresh anticipation. 

.

January ended and nothing had changed. 

.

You tried to be patient, waiting for her to tell you about divorce papers or formal separations.

You saw her more than ever in that sacred apartment. But, the precious lingering moments started to feel sluggish. You felt like you were on the edge of something real. You awaited the promised vacations, the shared domestic life, your own evening dates in fancy restaurants. 

The delay made you feel more stained by everything you’d done together. Reality began to feel heavier. 

In the evenings with her, you’d curl in her arms and let the white sheets take away the sin of it all. Slowly, in those quiet moments together,  she started to tell you all the details of her marriage. 

The words seemed unstoppable, unflinching in their honesty. At first, you felt proud that she could confide in you.

She listed the reasons that she’d strayed, the reasons that she’d found you.

The abstract wife who’d never seemed real, now became increasingly formed.

‘Natasha’ started to haunt your dreams.

You heard bitter stories about Natasha’s crippling fear of intimacy, the impact it had on everyone close to her. How frustrating it was. The way she distrusted simple kindness. The holidays she had ruined with her petty arguments. Her insecurities that never seemed to go away. 

Natasha’s motives seemed twisted, illogical, cruel, as you were told them. The stories seemed like bad fairy tales but you listened patiently to each one.

She continued to confide in you. Stories from years ago and moments from her day to day. You waited for the inevitable conclusion to be reached, for the logical choice to separate from the villain in every tale. 

All you seemed to get were more bitter stories.

.

You started to feel like a stone embedded in a riverbed, caught in the constant stream of water but never quite dislodged enough to break free.

You started hearing the bias in her stories, the cruelty of her tone. You started seeing a side of her that you didn’t want to.

More than anything, you found yourself starting to root for another woman who could only hate you. 

Natasha was so much stronger than either of you. 

Snippets of description lingered in your head, even when you were alone. 

Sometimes, sitting in your own apartment, you tried to imagine what shade of green Natasha’s eyes were. If she was really so tiresome or just not as self-interested as her wife.

You’d spent half a year living for the moments in that apartment. For warm towels wrapping around you, soft sheets and tangled limbs. The fleeting comfort of being held from behind, warm kisses on your bare shoulders.

You’d felt precious, like a gift meant for her. Someone to be cherished.

Now, you looked at yourself, staring back in the foggy bathroom mirror and knew that you were unloved.

You realised that your eyes were empty. You had stopped trying to be someone you liked.

You felt drained and understood at last that you were being used. .

You realised that you didn’t covet another woman’s wife. You didn’t covet anything at all.

You felt like an empty vessel, now filled to the brim with someone else’s bitterness.

You wanted yourself back. You broke free.

.

The end was brutal in its abruptness.

Two texts from you finished something that should never have been started. 

You didn’t give her a reason. You couldn’t think how to justify yourself. How to explain that you hated the way she talked about her wife. How you were starting to hate yourself. That her adultery was suddenly unforgivable.

You felt like an accomplice to something gut-twisting.

.

It was the precipice of summer now. You blocked her number when texts and calls continued to flood your phone.

You took extra shifts at the cafe. You’d grown distant from friends during the winter and now you tried your best to make amends. 

Each apology was painful and awkward, forcing you to confront your own selfishness when close friends gave you long overdue life updates. 

When you glanced at yourself in the bathroom mirror, your eyes were brighter. Every new morning, you hated yourself a little less.

You started walking more, trying to fill time that had been saved for her. You took detours to and from work, listening to thudding music through cheap earphones. You tried to leave your mistakes behind. Putting distance between you and your regrets.

You couldn’t walk away from the guilt. Thoughts of Natasha were inescapable, regret took a heavy seat on your heart.

.

It was a Saturday afternoon, simmering with uncomfortable city heat. 

You walked back to your apartment lethargically, sweat sticking your shirt to your back.

There was a woman standing in the dim hallway, just outside your door. 

Fear pinned you to the spot. The world moved in slow motion as she turned to face you.

Her red hair was braided back. Her jaw seemed tight, but her lips looked too soft for words. Anger flickered behind her green eyes. 

‘I think you know my wife.’ She spoke clearly, the crisp words slicing through the air between you.

‘Fuck.’ You whispered, doused in sudden icy panic.

.

You knew you were a homewrecker. You hadn’t realised that it was an Avenger’s home.

Your stomach sank through the floor as you warily regarded her at the end of the hallway. Natasha Romanoff was capable of anything. You’d heard rumours that she was super human. 

She was also hypnotising with her casual beauty. 

Her eyes were a deeper green than the woman you’d imagined. 

Silence stretched between you. You waited in fear.

Finally, Natasha nodded her head toward your front door.

The pointed reminder of social etiquette threw you off. You huffed an embarrassed breath as you hurried forward to unlock it.

You held the door open and Natasha walked past you. You caught the way she held her breath as she passed by you. You felt her disgust like a harsh blow to the chest. You reminded yourself it was the least you deserved.

An apology burned in your chest, desperate to be spoken aloud. 

Standing in the centre of your shitty small apartment, Natasha turned back to you. Her diamond stud earrings stood out comically in the dingy room. 

‘I hear we are in love with the same person.’ She commented, looking you straight in the eye. Her hands were buried deep in her leather jacket’s pockets, but you could make out the clenched fists. 

Her tense frame seemed sharply vulnerable. She was much smaller in person.

‘I think we’ve known different people.’ You replied cautiously, sympathy beginning to build in your chest. 

‘You need to leave her alone.’ Natasha bit back and her eyes flashed suddenly.

‘We’re not-’ You stumbled over your words, rushing to correct her impression. ‘We ended it. Everything.’ You cleared your throat. ‘I’m so sorry.’

Natasha blinked with clear surprise; she ignored your apology completely. 

‘What do you mean?’ She asked, voice dropping unexpectedly. Your gaze lowered to the ground, hot shame burned through you.

‘It lasted six months and ended three weeks ago.’ You answered factually, hating the taste of the truth. ‘I’m so sorry.’ You added again uselessly.

Natasha’s expression closed off and for a moment she was very still. Then, she moved suddenly across your apartment. The heel of her hand slammed against your wall, leaving a clear dent. You watched her forehead tilt forward, leaning heavily against the old wallpaper.  You heard her rapid breathing. Every inhale was drawn shakily. 

Your next apology died on your lips. Tears burned in your eyes. You hovered in awful limbo in the centre of the room.

Slowly, Natasha faced you again. Her eyes were rimmed red, but she wasn’t crying. She swallowed once. Her gaze dropped and she stared down at your wrist. Distress flickered behind her eyes.

You followed her stare to the wristwatch that had stopped feeling special a long time ago. Wordlessly, Natasha reached up to her earrings, undoing them one after the other. She threw them with unerring aim onto your side table.

‘There.’ She murmured, sounding broken in ways you couldn’t comprehend. ‘You might as well have all my Christmas presents.’

Nausea rose like a tidal wave as you tried to swallow down your disgust.

‘Oh God.’ You whispered in horror, unclasping the watch and throwing it onto the nearby sofa.

Natasha’s focus returned to you. Her lip twitched with a strange, resigned half smile.

‘You’re not special.’ She commented neutrally. ‘And neither am I.’

You shook your head with automatic fervour.

‘You’re a superhero.’ You countered quietly, unable to meet her eyes all over again.

Natasha’s hand brushed her cheek harshly and you realised that she’d started crying. 

‘I wreck everything.’ She muttered harshly and you recognised her honesty as another sign of your irrelevance to her. ‘Everything I touch, I ruin.’

‘You’re an Avenger.’ You tried to speak up again. You’d been fucking her wife, who’d been complaining whilst she’d been saving the world. Everything was so twisted. 

‘They just point me at the right targets.’ Natasha whispered. ‘It’s what I was made to do. I’m not made for anything else. I can’t even make a fucking marriage work.’

It felt like pieces of the room were falling down around you. The woman you had no right to speak to was imploding quietly at the edge of it.

‘I’m so sorry.’ You whispered one last time.

The apology seemed to snap Natasha out of her misery. She blinked away the tears clinging to her eyelashes and straightened up.

‘I don’t even know why I bothered you.’ She admitted tiredly as her hands slipped back into her pockets. You caught the reddened palm of the one that had hit your wall. ‘I should go.’

As she took a step toward the door, you took a step forward too.

‘Your earrings.’ You began, eyes darting unsurely to the watch that you realised was also technically hers. 

Natasha caught your hesitation and sudden exhaustion rinsed her face clean.

‘They’re not worth saving.’ She murmured in dismissal.

‘Don’t tell anyone about this.’ Natasha added in a tighter, controlled voice, before shutting the door with abrupt finality. 

Your next hesitation was short lived.

‘Wait.’ You called suddenly, hurriedly following her out into the hallway.

Natasha turned around at your voice. Fresh, private tears stained her cheeks.

‘Can I give you my number, just in case?’ You asked nervously, hand already reaching in your pocket for your phone.

‘Why the fuck would I want to talk to you?’ Natasha bit out so harshly that you flinched.

‘Because who else can you talk to about this?’ You retorted with sudden certainty.

Natasha’s mouth shut abruptly.

You reeled off your number aloud, Natasha didn’t write it down but she stayed stoically until you’d finished speaking.

When you returned to your apartment, you sat on your sofa and stared up at the cracked ceiling, thinking about the mess you’d made. The pain you’d inflicted on someone else.

Natasha’s eyes were going to haunt you forever.

.

Natasha called you three days later. You answered the unknown number unsurely. You were on your lunch break, sitting on a step just behind the heavy fire exit door. The warm breeze barely made the summer air tolerable.

Your throat closed at her voice. 

‘There’s definitely someone else.’ She told you, without preamble. You felt sick, you realised how little you wanted to have this conversation. You felt like you owed her everything.

‘How do you know?’ You asked, forcing your voice to be even.

‘How do you think I knew about you?’ Natasha retorted, voice deceptively cool. ‘Did you think that she’s subtle?’

You stood up, beginning to pace with the phone pressed to your ear. 

‘Are you going to confront her?’ You asked, wondering if she was looking for courage.

‘No-’ Natasha’s voice faltered obviously, as if your question had thrown her. ‘No, it’s not that simple.’

‘She’s being cruel.’ You whispered, thinking guiltily back to the horrible things that Natasha’s wife had said about her. 

‘I can make this work. Natasha replied, voice cracking. ‘I just need another chance. I just need to-’

‘You can’t push all this bad shit down, that’s not balance.’ You heard yourself advising in a low voice.  ‘You’re the only person here who hasn’t done anything wrong.’ 

Natasha hung up the phone.

You spent another afternoon filled with regret.

.

The next evening, she was standing outside your door again. You tried not to be relieved to see her again. 

There was something laughably put together about her professional outfit. The black suit jacket was pristine. 

You let her in this time without hesitation.

It felt like a movie cliche. Natasha sat tensely on your sofa. You sat nervously beside her. She put her head in her hands and you watched the way her jacket went taut against the curve of her spine. 

‘I can’t tell anyone.’ Natasha whispered into her hands. ‘I’m so ashamed.’

Your heart shattered silently. You didn’t understand. 

‘This isn’t your fault.’ You murmured softly.

Natasha adjusted, crossing her arms tightly as she sat up straighter. 

‘I promised her that I’d get better.’ Natasha told you, in a voice dripping with self loathing. Her tone was too cold, you found yourself resisting the urge to shrink away from her.

‘What do you mean?’ You asked hesitantly.

The line of Natasha’s jaw tensed before she answered. Her long straight hair was loose, obscuring her face slightly. Her eyes flickered to you and you remembered how little she must trust you.

You lifted your hands in mock surrender.

‘What I meant to ask.’ You corrected hastily. ‘Is, do you want a drink?’

Real surprise flooded Natasha’s face at your words. Still, you didn’t miss the way her shoulders relaxed at the turn in conversation. She swallowed a lump in her throat, nodding wordlessly. 

You left for the kitchen, returning with an unopened bottle of vodka.

Natasha took it silently, unscrewing the cap between her thumb and forefinger. 

‘I hate that I’m here.’ She admitted after lifting the bottle to her lips. 

“I hate what I did.’ You admitted readily too.

‘Stop saying that.’ She advised suddenly, twisting the gold band on her finger. ‘It doesn’t make anyone feel better, except you.’

You nodded, feeling embarrassed.

‘When I told my boss that I was getting married. He said it wasn’t something I could do well.’ She confessed suddenly. Natasha made you feel invisible, her eyes skated over you as she spoke.

You didn’t matter to her. You had no right to.

‘Pain only makes us stronger.’ She breathed softly and the sound filled the hesitations between her words. ‘I don’t know how to deserve her but I have to keep trying.’

‘She doesn’t deserve you Natasha.’ You hated yourself completely. You knew she couldn’t hear you, that your opinion held no weight and it was your own fault.

Natasha took another drink from the vodka bottle.

‘I get stuck behind these walls in my head.’ She mumbled in a low voice, tucking her hair behind her ear. ‘I can’t be normal.’

A lump rose in your chest. Her words were unbearably sad. 

Your hand moved carefully to rest in the space between her shoulder blades. Natasha flinched away sharply.

‘Don’t touch me.’ She told you angrily and you felt yourself truly want to die.

‘I’m sorry.’ You whispered, embarrassed tears filling your eyes.

The air was stifling as you fought to keep your breathing even.

‘Every time I look at you, I think about her fucking you.’ Natasha continued, anger flowing through her, uncontrolled. She slammed the bottle down on the side table and fear iced up the back of your neck. 

‘Do you think I just fucking forget about that?’ She asked cuttingly, getting to her feet.

There was an awful pause. Then, with sudden clarity, you felt brave. You owed Natasha everything, no words could tear you down lower.

‘Do you forget when you’re with her?’ You asked, standing up too.

‘You have a wife who is breaking your heart.’ You heard your voice growing stronger and you barely recognised yourself. ‘Do you think she loves you? Do you know what she says about you?’

Natasha’s face went ashen.

‘You are better than her.’ You continued fiercely. ‘I can’t forget the things I did either. The only person who can live with themself is her.’

The silence that met your words was pervasive. You could hear your refrigerator humming in the other room.

.

Natasha ran her hand through her hair, leaving it messier than before. Another piece of her collected image fell apart.

‘I’m trying.’ She muttered brokenly. ‘I’m trying so hard.’

‘It’s not your fault that she’s hurting you.’ You countered quietly, feeling self-conscious after your outburst.

Natasha gave you a strange look, filled with twisting guilt that you recognised too familiarly. 

‘It is.’ She whispered in a cracked voice. 

She sank back down onto your old sofa. 

‘Fuck.’ She muttered, rubbing her face briefly with her hands. ‘I love her. I do love her.’ She started quietly, twisting her wedding band harshly.

‘But, everything is hard.’ Natasha confessed, staring down at her lap. ‘And I asked her to be patient with me, but I can’t figure out how to make myself change.’

You watched Natasha with bated breath. It felt cooler suddenly, like a breeze had finally found its way into your shitty apartment.

‘Don’t fucking change.’ You determined firmly and Natasha turned to stare at you in shock. ‘You’re fine as you are.’ Your confidence came from a certainty in your chest. 

‘There’s nothing wrong with how you love people.’ You continued. ‘Your love has saved so many fucking lives.’

Natasha watched you like an unsure child.

You felt stronger, closer to a freedom that only her happiness could bring.

‘You’re not failing by being yourself.’ You continued to assert. ‘You can’t be.’

‘I really do love her.’ Natasha murmured and you realised that she was looking at you differently now.

You hoped she knew that you were on her side.

‘I know.’ You reassured her softly. ‘Love shouldn’t be this hard.’ 

‘Believe me, I know.’ You added in a mutter under your breath. 

A short laugh left Natasha unexpectedly.

You fought a tiny smile as the air settled, drenched in unspeakable relief.

.

The end was brutal in its abruptness.

Two texts from Natasha finished something that should never have been started. 

She didn’t need to give a reason. But, she did.

She explained how much she hated the way that her wife talked to her. She wrote that her adultery was unforgivable.

At last, you felt like an accomplice to something good.

.

It was autumn when you next saw Natasha. 

She walked into your cafe like she was a regular. A hush fell over the busy establishment. Whispers of Black Widow circulating faster than the caffeine did.

Her hands rested on the counter and you noted the absence of her wedding ring. Natasha caught your gaze and she smiled simply.

‘When’s your break?’ She asked, as you began filling the coffee cup.

You sat together, on the step just behind the heavy fire exit door. Natasha’s shoulder was pressed against yours. The cool air was made pleasant by your warm coat.

Natasha told you that things were easier now. 

She had better friends than she’d ever realised. She told you about Friday movie nights with some people from work. She told you about the cat that had moved into her new apartment, only a few weeks after she had.

You sipped on your coffee as you listened, not tasting anything except its warmth. 

You asked carefully if she still spoke to her ex-wife. 

Natasha shook her head and gave a gentle laugh. Her hair caught the autumn light and you realised suddenly that it was made up of many shades of red.

Before she left, Natasha gave you her number. 

.

You didn’t text her. 

Natasha was a better person than you. She was brave, strong and kind. 

You’d been granted more forgiveness than you deserved. 

Natasha’s eyes finally stopped haunting your dreams.

.

It was the start of winter when Natasha called you. She invited you to the next Friday movie night with her friends, she was hosting it at her apartment. You didn’t realise how easy it was to say yes, until you did.

The streets were icy when you walked over that evening. Natasha wore an oversized wool jumper and leggings when she answered the door. 

She’d invited you earlier than anyone else. She offered you a glass of wine and introduced you to a black cat that slunk away from you in distaste. 

There were various framed photos placed around the living room. Natasha was smiling in every single one. 

More people arrived and soon the small gathering felt like a party. 

Natasha introduced you to each new guest as an old friend. You caught the way her work friends exchanged curious glances. 

More wine was poured and soon a cheesy romcom occupied the room’s attention.

Her living room now held more people in it than there were comfortable seats and so Natasha sat on the floor, just in front of you.

Somewhere, between the wine and the easy laughter, and Natasha’s back pressed comfortably against your legs, you started braiding a piece of her hair.

You watched the way Natasha smiled to herself, pink cheeks from the alcohol.

.

The new year began better than the last.

[emmyrosee]

She got her quiet sneaking in from you.

Kenma’s fingers tap roughly on the controller in his hands, tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth in focus. He’s died four times to this monster, its shrieks of agony scaring him once embarrassingly in front of his chat, the other three deaths because, now that he’s past being scared, Kenma realizes what a damn hard boss this is.

“Chat, I’m telling you right now, if I see this dev in the streets, I’m taking a crowbar to their knee caps- this is a promise, not a warniIIIIIIING!”

He lurches from the gentle tug of his elbow, heart sinking to his chest in complete fear and acceptance that this is it for him, he’s dead. His arm is ripped away from the source, but when he hears a tiny gasp in fear, Kenma’s heart beats calmly again.

“Daddy okay?” Maesi asks, and kenma pauses the game to turn to her.

“You startled me baby,” he teases, and she blocks up at him with doe eyes to coax him to forgive her. As if she really needs to do that. “But what’s up beautiful?” He asks, putting down his controller and stretching. “How are you, angel?”

Maesi hums and passes her father the plate, her eyes peering up at him timidly- a trait he wants to blame on you, but every time, he’s met with a cocked eyebrow from you. “Want french fry?”

Kenma chuckles and nods, “I mean, you know I’m never gonna say no to fries,” he says, reaching down to grab the lukewarm fry from her tiny plastic plate. God knows how long they’ve been out, at least four hours; but that doesn’t stop kenma from letting his little girl take care of him in her own way. “You wanna be in daddy’s stream? Say hi to chat?” When she nods, Kenma lifts her up and into his lap, and once done, he reaches over to pick up another fry. In his headphones, Kenma hears that he got a donation.

Thank you kuroosassscheek for gifted 75 subs: hey Kenma there’s something behind you

“Thank you, Kuroo,” he scoffs. “Spawn, say hi to chat and uncle Tetsu.”

“Hi chat, hi uncle Tetsu,” she hums shyly, and Kenma kisses her temple around his chewing. “What playin’?”

“Daddy’s playing a scaaaary game,” he says, voice hiked slightly while he gasps. Maesi giggles before passing him another fry, which he takes quickly.

“Gonna have nightmare,” she warns.

Kenma raises his brows in agreement, “mommy’s gonna have to tuck me in.”

“Me too,” she mumbles, curling into Kenma’s hoodie, nose burrowing into his neck and tickling his skin slightly. “Play Star Valley?” She asks.

He hugs her tightly with a fake groan of effort, and she giggles happily, “you want to watch daddy play Stardew Valley?”

“Yeah..”

“Does mumma know you’re in here?”

Maesi is quiet- he chuckles and shakes his head, letting her get comfortable against him. He knows you’re not far, probably asleep on the couch, and Kenma prepares himself to potentially have to carry his two sleeping babies to bed.

“Alright- one second chat,” he says simply, grabbing his controller to change the game to the easy, calming game Maesi loves to watch him play. “We’ll pick that up tomorrow. Gotta protect myself from nightmares.”

Once again, Maesi lets out a little laugh; she tucks her face as close as she can to him, only shifting to grab another fry to munch on. He tips his head slightly again, to plant a kiss on the crown of her head, the soothing music in his headphones gets placed on her head, and before kenma can start any of his tasks, he feels Maesi’s breathing even out, her plate of fries and nuggets placed somewhere on the desk for him to take.

And that’s okay. He’ll play for a while, just in case she wakes up, and he’ll let her sleep in confidence in her fathers arms. Kenma’s pleased as the numbers in his stream doesn’t immediately drop: it stays, even now as it’s been hijacked by the one he loves most.

This 🥺🩷

[ziggyzolch]

Headache (Wanda Maximoff x Reader)

Summary: If you could describe yourself in three words, they would be: little shit speedster. Causing trouble was your favorite pastime, and you've never been caught. That would change, however, when an angsty witch is assigned to capture you.Warnings: Cursing

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

❅❅❅

The stench of vomit and cigarettes fills your nose as you duck and hide in an alley next to a nightclub. Wiping sweat off of your forehead, you peek your head out of the alley and watch the police cars that were chasing you turn the wrong corner. After making sure the coast was clear, you let out a breath then fall to the ground in laughter. “Idiots.” You push out in between giggles.

Being a little shit was your specialty. From egging random houses to stealing the batons of unaware police men, there was nothing you weren’t up for. Graffitiing police cars wasn’t something you did often, but definitely what you had just done. You were adding the finishing touches, pubes, to the massive penis you just spray painted on the car when a cop finally noticed you. It was embarrassingly easy to outrun him, you can’t blame him though.

You discovered your superhuman speed the first time you got caught messing around, and your shit-headedness increased tenfold. The early years of your childhood were a mystery to you, only rarely getting short, useless flashbacks to being in a lab of some sort. You figured that's where your abilities came from, but in all honesty you didn’t really care. Whatever you didn’t remember was not your problem.

A good 3 minutes of laughing later, you catch your breath and sprint back to your dorm, ignoring the glowing red light at the corner of your eye.

❅❅❅

Walking into your dorm room, the first thing you notice is how cold it is. The door closes behind you, a red mist dissipating around it. Your eyes widen and you let out a quiet ‘What the fuck’ before the sound of your chair moving catches your attention. Your window was open. The first explanation you think of is that your roommate is playing a stupid prank. “You aren’t funny, Kate. Why are you even still up-” You pause, a figure suddenly appearing in front of you.

That is most definitely not your roommate.

They cover your mouth right when you're about to scream.

“Shh, she’s sleeping. Move.” The stranger, which you now know is a woman, turns you around and pushes you out of your dorm, her hand still covering your mouth. Your thoughts start racing. ‘What the fuck! I should’ve brought my rape whistle with me. This is definitely human trafficking. Couldn’t they kidnap me tomorrow, I have homework-’

The woman turns you around “Shut up! For fucks sake- ew!” She stares at you in shock. Did you just lick her hand? After an awkward stare off you finally speak, “Fuck you, rapist!” You turn to run when you’re stopped by a…red cloud?

You can hear her voice getting closer while she stomps towards you, “Don’t even try to run, and I’m not a rapist you little shit.”

“Let me go!”

“That’s not happening.”

“Yeah cuz you’re a RAPIST.”

She pinches the bridge of her nose, “Tony told me you were a handful but I didn’t think it’d be this bad.”

“Yeah well…Fuck you and Tony!”

“Oh my god.”

“Rapist!”

“Enough!” You’re about to reply with another accusation when red fills your vision.

Wanda picks you up from where you passed out and sighs in exasperation. Tony’s in for a ride.

❅❅❅

Next Part

A/N: This is the first chapter! I'll probably upload more on AO3 and Wattpad, @ziggyzolch on both :)

[haetrack]

[17:10]

warnings: renjun x afab!reader, pillow humping, slight scent kink, renjun gets caught

this is probably the most inconvenient thing renjun has ever done.

he’s currently getting himself off to the thought of you, his best friend, which is already inconvenient in itself. what’s worse, he’s humping his pillow pathetically while thinking about you, his hand not being enough anymore.

earlier, he had wrapped his fist around his aching cock, too horny to care about how he’d feel guilty afterwards. all the thoughts of you swirled in his mind over how touchy you seem to be around him. he wonders what you’d think if you saw him like this.

he’d push your hands away from him, push you away if you stared at him for too long. if he’d let you stare, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from getting into his head, imagining your teary eyes as he fucked you.

all this pent up frustration leads him to tonight, fist gliding along his dick as he whines out your name. he tries to excuse it by saying this will be the only time he'll do this. until his fist doesn’t feel like enough, thoughts of you under him taking up too much of his mind.

without rationally thinking, he moves the pillow he was laying against under him, an embarrassed frown on his face as he straddles it. his cock is twitching against his stomach in anticipation, waiting for him to grind down onto the fabric.

he leans forward a bit, his cock pressing against his pillow. at the first roll of his hips, he lets out a small whine at the feeling. it doesn’t take long for him to find a good rhythm, the feeling too good for him not to like.

he practically collapses on top of the pillow, arms giving out as pleasure consumes him. he rubs his face against it, pretending it’s your neck he’s nuzzling into. one of his hands grips on to the side of the pillow, imagining it’s the soft skin at your hips that he's holding.

he’s imagining fucking his cock into your cunt, thinking about how your walls would clench around him. his tip leaks precum against the fabric, causing an easier glide for him. it’s so humiliating getting off like this when he could easily ask you.

he’s getting close embarrassingly fast, his hips fucking into the pillow at the thought of you. maybe next time when you sleepover, he’ll let you have his pillow, letting you put all of your scent on it. he’d be surrounded by you next time he gets off, all without you knowing-

his thoughts are interrupted by his phone vibrating nearby. he lets out an annoyed groan, too preoccupied to talk to anyone. he lets it ring, but another call comes right after. he sighs, fully plopping down on the pillow, checking who could be calling him at the worst time.

it’s you. he decides to answer. what could you possibly need right now?

“hey, renjun.”

at the sound of your voice saying his name, he can’t help but let his hips grind down into the pillow. it’s not like you know what he’s doing. he shakily answers, “hey, um, how are you?”

you want to laugh at how off he sounds. he's out of breath, his voice is shaky, and you swear you hear him roll around in bed. "doing fine. how are you? it sounds like you just finished running or something."

renjun immediately sits up straight. no way he's been caught that fast. "no, i just- i wasn't doing anything."

his voice is laced with something you can't quite place yet. he sounds cute though, reminding you of all the times you tease him. his cheeks would always go pink before he would push you away. for the sake of your friendship, you would always try to ignore it.

except now, it's just the two of you on a call. he's all yours right now, and you don't intend to stop teasing him. you sigh, "hm, i think you're lying, but it's fine. i just got home from class and i was bored."

"you were bored so you called me?" you can hear him huff on the other side of the call.

"yeah, wanted to call my favorite person," you laugh. a groan let out by renjun is followed right after, slightly muffled by something. you badly want to ask what he was doing, but that would be too easy. you'll play the long game.

"it's not like i have anything to do. i was super tired today, all i wanted to do was talk to you."

renjun is quiet on the other end. he doesn't mean to, but his hips start moving against the pillow again. he hates how easy it is for him to lose himself when it comes to you. he's trying to be subtle about it, slow grinds into his pillow and his hand covering his mouth as you talk about your day.

he feels a little like a pervert doing this, but it's not his fault he got interrupted. if someone else would have called him, it would've ruined it for him and he would've had to stop. but it was you who called him, and he can't help think about how nice your voice sounds to him right now.

maybe another time, you could help guide him, telling him to fuck his pillow like a loser. a small groan escapes his mouth at the thought, and he hears your voice stop. he should be scared, worried at what you might think, but your reaction just brings him closer to cumming.

"renjun?" you call out to him and he's trying hard to stifle his noises.

“mhm? sorry, i zoned out near the end.”

he’s being way too quiet for you. he still sounds out of breath, and put your ear the speaker of your phone. there’s huffs of breaths renjun is letting out and rustling noises coming from his end. what is he doing?

you don’t know what else to do but to joke around, “you’re not, like, jerking off or anything, right?”

and suddenly, the call is quiet. there’s no more hushed breaths or rustling, but complete silence on his end of the call. you feel a little shocked, because there’s no way he’s actually getting off, right? right?

“renjun, answer me.”

“n-no, i’m just laying down, i d-don’t-”

you don’t know what comes over you, “are you sure? should i come over and check for myself?”

“n-no!” renjun practically yells into the phone. despite his words, his hips begin grinding into the pillow again. why he loses all his composure around you? he’s not sure.

“hm, sorry about that. i guess it would be weird if your best friend asked if you were getting off on a call.” you raise the volume of your phone, hearing the hushed whines renjun lets out.

he’s definitely lying.

if renjun had the courage, he’d tell you to come over. he’d pin you down to his bed like how he has his pillow, driving his cock into you as you apologize for teasing him so much. he’d be surrounded by your scent, his lips pressing kisses to the skin of your neck.

the thought brings him close, and renjun realizes he’s quickly losing the battle of trying to hold off. he’s letting out small whines muffled into his pillow, his tip leaking all over his pillow as he picks up his pace. he doesn’t even realize that you stopped talking.

when he’s about to cum, he lets out a whine higher than he means it to be, his fingers trying to quickly mute his phone. before he can, you ask, “are you gonna cum, renjun? gonna cum for me?”

a moan of your name slips out of him as his hips stutter against the pillow, cum spurting out of his tip as it stains the fabric. he can imagine your walls clenching around him, the sound of your voice moaning his name as you cum around him.

you can feel yourself throbbing, having to cross your legs together to try to stifle the need building up in you. you’re not sure if he’s aware of how loud he’s being, whines and moans taking up all the call. you burn them into your memory, trying to imagine just how good he looks right now.

when he comes down from his high, you can hear him let out an embarrassed groan. you laugh at him as he tries to shush you. “didn’t know you could get so horny,” he can imagine the grin on your face, “why did you even answer the call if you were getting off?”

“you called me twice,” he huffs, “what if you were in an emergency?”

“think it would be very unfortunate if i told you that i was in danger while you had your hand wrapped around your dick.”

“i wasn’t doing that!”

you make a confused noise, “but weren’t you jerking off?”

renjun realizes he’s made this worse for himself. he can't just tell you he was using a pillow to get off. he isn't even supposed to tell anyone that he was getting off, let alone his best friend. he tries brushing it off, "why do you even want to know? you're literally crazy."

you're silent on the other end, and he assumes it's probably best to hang up. he ends the call, letting his phone fall in front of him as he lets out an embarrassed sigh. how did that even happen? you probably won't ever like him back now.

except, his phone starts vibrating again. when he goes to pick it up, it's an incoming facetime call from you. he stares at himself through the phone, his pink cheeks on display as he reluctantly answers. he's greeted with the image of you, looking a little too desperate as you stare at renjun.

you shift up to show more of yourself to renjun, "i wanna- i wanna see what you were doing. i'll show you how i get off, i just- just need to see you."

how is he supposed to say no when he sees you squirming in your spot? he props his phone up, a slightly humiliated look on his face as he shows you the pillow he was grinding against. he sees a smile form on your face, watches how your eyes widen at the sight.

it's not fair that he's doing this alone. "i need to see you, fuck- need to see you so bad. i'm like this because of you."

and like you always do, you tease him with that pretty smile on your face, "show me."

-

taglist: @hamji-hae

[indras-curse]

Pt. 2 of this.

They get dispatched to deliver a very important package from one Lord to another.

Kakashi has been a little shit for a while now, conveniently releasing his scent whenever Obito is about to land what should have been his winning hit while sparring, getting Obito to pay for his sweet cravings and one time even tricking him into carrying his share of equipment by feigning a tired whine.

Obito is at his limit of embarrassment, he almost flings himself off a cliff to break a leg and skip the mission.

Minato sensei is way too observant and catches him just in time. He has apparently spoken with Kakashi and is not going to allow him to take advantage of Obito, and he won't let Obito let himself be taken advantage of, even if his Alpha screams to please the Omega.

Kakashi is very tame he teases Obito the same amount as always but keeps it away from their dynamics and he conceals his scent as well as he had always done before.

Obito is not entirely sure he is happy with this arrangement.

He misses Kakashi's scent, even if it clouds his mind and makes him embarrassingly pliant. He would just like to make a dumb joke and have Kakashi show a poker face but smell his scent sweeten in amusement.

But the mission goes well.

At least until they are already on their way to Konoha.

They get ambushed, which is stupid because they are no longer carrying any important package or document. Perhaps they gather they must know some important information and want to torture it out of them.

Obito is overwhelmed.

But then, a man launches at Kakashi and lands a hit.

Obito would like to say that he quickly but masterfully came up with a plan that worked perfectly for everyone and managed to escape without any problems.

Truth is that Obito only knows what happened because Rin and Minato tell him what they saw when they finally made their way to them.

Every single enemy was either knocked out or dead and Kakashi was laying down on the grass with a feral Obito on top of him, nose pressed to his neck and growling at anything that moved. He had a broken arm and Kakashi was bleeding from his shoulder, his inability to care for the wound making Obito think there was still danger and made him unable to be coaxed out from his feral state.

Minato sensei had to knock him the fuck out.

He woke up in a hospital, mortified to hell and back.

For the next couple of weeks, Obito masterfully avoided Kakashi, he wasn't even going to lie to himself, he was full on purposefully avoiding the younger man.

Kakashi just had to be standing at his door one morning and bulldozing his way in, pushing Obito back into his own house and barricading the door with his body.

"You've been avoiding me" Kakashi states the obvious.

"Well, yeah. So what?" Obito says petulantly.

"How did you think you were going to manage? We are in the same team, dumbass"

"Shut up, I would have figured it out"

"Stop avoiding me" Kakashi demanded.

"Don't tell me what to do. You don't even like me, just enjoy the ride and let me ignore you"

"I do like you" Kakashi frowned, Obito thinks he can see a pout underneath his mask. "So if you are avoiding me because you like me and you think I don't, stop being stupid"

"I don't like you!" Obito shot back way too quickly to be credible. "You're a prick, you're my rival!"

Kakashi raised an eyebrow and started to release his scent. Obito cursed under his breath, how was he so good at doing that at will?

"Not fair, you know I'm sensitive" Obito covered his nose and mouth with the sleeve of his jacket but it did little to conceal the scent.

"I know" Kakashi stepped forward, closing the distance between them. "You're also stubborn and I am not about to back down" Kakashi was leaning in for a hug and stopped before making contact. "Is this okay?"

"If you are playing with me, Minato sensei will demote you" Obito threatened, wary but opening his arms, defeated. He never really stood a chance.

"Oh, I know. But I am not playing, this is not a trick. I am stating a fact and I want to show you"

They hug for hours and hours. Obito lost within Kakashi's scent and releasing his own, putting them both on even ground, Kakashi going slightly mindless from the unfiltered emotions he can gather from Obito's scent.

They are drunk on each other and their instincts are finally their saving grace for once because Kakashi's stomach growls and Obito immediately separates from him, tugging him to take him out for a bite, instincts screaming to care, provide, feed.

The clear air from the outside helps clean Obito's head. He feels embarrassed but feeling better than ever, now that he knows Kakashi actually likes him too.

[soka-starxi]

Savagery 

Part 5

Titus x afab! medic surf, Gadriel x afab! medic surf

Warnings: 18+ MDNI

A/N: hey y’all! Sorry it’s been a hot minute but we back!! No warnings for this chapter just Titus actually being a chill guy ™️

Part 4 here

* 　　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚ . * 　　　 ✦ .

Your lords presence still remained in the room even though his gaze was cast away, surprisingly distant, silent…

Wishing he would utter even a single word, you made quick work of disinfecting your tools. Trying to keep your hands desperately still

This challenge was impossible due to your bones aching beneath your weight just urging you to sit down

You knew you could trust him..maybe not fully but if he wanted you dead he would’ve done it long ago by now

Still, you wondered if this was some sick joke or a challenge you’re unaware of

Is it luck that I’ve survived this far? Or am I one step away from falling into a trap?

You would never be able to tell

Every nerve in your body told you to flee, the ancestral plea yearning for survival

But you kept standing there

Still doing the task at hand with careful precision, your quickening heartbeat giving away the remnants of fear

And he could hear it, there was no doubt about it

And as for you, him shifting off the wall was enough for your heart to threaten to bust through the confinements of your ribs

Wondering if he’s looking at you now, you realised you’d be lying to yourself if you didn’t want him too

You knew he could see the affect he had on you, but you hoped he understood it

That you’re not just a surf, you have thoughts, feelings, experiences. You are human just like was before his enhancements

It was a shout into the void, to the gods, to whoever was listening

So, you cast out your plea

And he was looking right into you, almost sapphire blue eyes found your own

Embarrassingly, you felt your face heat up

There was no where to look, only him. His head slightly cocked to the side seemingly searching your gaze

The slight frown on your face, the challenging look in her eyes. That was unheard of in a surf…

Perhaps that’s why she was chosen for me…

You could only do this for a while, hoping he would give in

“Serf”

Almost a whisper, you could’ve missed it

“Yes, my lord Titus?”

Using his full title made you relish in his power, contradicting your previous fears

Throne…I need some sleep

He raised his gravely voice “walk with me”

You walked in unison, again in silence. Your sluggishness failed to keep up with his steps

Letting out a slight huff, you swore he slowed his pace…or is it the lack of sleep creating hallucinations?

Thankfully, you were both out of the way from the hustle of the med bay

Your head spun with excitement and anticipation, but your nerves made your eyes widen as you realised this is the path to your lords quarters

Why is he taking me here? I at least hope he likes what I’ve done…throne help me

“How far are you with the mission report?”

Turning a tight corner, you winced at the cold air but kept up his pace

“Almost done my lord, I will be finished by tomorrow evening”

A low hum escaped his lips, watching him was he casted a armoured hand though his well-trimmed fade. His eyes fluttering close, nodding

You realised you had been staring for too long when your lord took a turn, causing you to fall out of unison

You hoped again he didn’t see, but you know your lord picks up on everything

“Good, I’d like to request further clarification regarding timing, strategies. And importantly behaviour, if the Sergeant continues to act like a-”

His last sentence was cut off as his footsteps entered his quarters, you being left at his door frame with your hands clasped tightly behind you

Watching as he gazed across his room, you saw him slow down, taking it all in

Unsure as how to interpret this, you spoke “my lord, I-I’m sorry I didn’t mean to intrude..I j-just wanted to make up for, for earlier-”

It was his turn to cut you off

“You did this?”

You were still frozen at his door, it’s coolness against your back soothing the heat corsing through your veins

“Well, yes, yes my lord”

The stacked data pads, his desk lacking a single spec of dust, the polished armour glowing in the candlelight, the fresh sheets, all wrapped up in the calming smell of incense

Everything was crafted so neatly, Titus was almost dizzy from circling his well cared for room. Something he had not experienced, at least not like this

One thing was left, a small package at the end of his bed.

As he cradled it in his hand, he turned to you, gesturing you ro come forward next to him

“What is this?”

He loomed over you, confusion scattered over his face

The unfamiliar look on your yours face turned your lips into a weak smile

“Why don’t you find out”

He chucked to himself “I didn’t know i was also getting a gift barer when you came to me”

Surprisingly delicate for a space marine, he unfolded the paper to reveal a small desert

He couldn’t quite believe what he was looking at, but the smell was unmistakable

A dessert from his homeworld sat neatly in the palm of his hands

His gaze still focused to his hands he questioned you

“You didn’t make this too..did you?”

Inching towards him, still smiling “you mentioned it a while ago, thought you might like something familiar”

His gaze did not falter, his eyes fixated with his lips tugged slightly upwards

The growing silence and stillness of your lord triggered you to spiral

Oh throne..I’ve done too much havent I?

“My lord I am sorry for the overstep I just found the recipe and thought I could try it..but”

Embarrassment silenced your ramblings until he turned to you

His soft blue eyes flickering in the candlelight “no one has ever done this for me before…I-”

Another pause

“Thank you, throne you really have gone to great lengths hmm? What other surprises do you have for me, my serf?”

There. A full grin etched across his face, the candlelight accentuating his chissled features

You savoured this moment, you’ve never achieved a good look at your lord until now

And throne..what a sight

You were so out of it you didn’t even realise your chests were almost touching

His playful tone was making it hard to think

Your gaze drifted across the bridge of his nose, noting the freckles flowing onto his cheeks

“I was still..nervous..well..I was unsure if you liked surprises my lord, you like the predictableness of control”

Lifting his brow slightly, he cocked his head and adverted his gaze to the corner of the room in slight amusement

“You keep me curious, I think I like surprises more now. You’re certainly more than I bargained for that’s for sure”

You exhaled your relief, you were safe, he didn’t dislike you, you didn’t overstep, he might even like you

As he perched at the end of his bed, you automatically began to remove his armour as he spoke

“I’ve done some digging, you have an exceptionally low mortality rate as well as a keen eye…it’s been noted”

You twisted your head in confusion, unclasping his armour

“By who my lord?”

He sighed as the armour lifted off his worn body, his eyes still casting over his quarters

“By me”

His soft tone was still something you were getting used to causing you to almost slip when removing the last piece of armour, neatly positioning it to be cleaned and monitored

Your breath stilled. Your gaze fixated to the floor you sat upon

“Thank you, my lord”

Whipping your head up to face him you were met by mountains of muscle as the lieutenant sat in only a loincloth around his waist

You couldn’t remember the last time you performed his armour removal, but this time you traced over his scars with cautious eyes

He was a sight to behold, carved from great gods, a being of high skill and perfection in every way

You followed him as he stood

“Will you remain? I’d like your imput regarding some of the reports?”

And of corse you nodded

[queerofthedagger]

WIP Word Train

Rules: tagger gives a word, then for each letter of that word you share an excerpt from your WIPs that start with that letter.

Tagged by @softest-punk <3

The word was TEAR (which, wow, I rarely start my sentences with an R, it turns out)

T - Maedhros & Maglor Week Fill for Day 6: Kinslayers

The rose-petal lips and the ash-grey violence. The holy-bright light of Telperion and the gutted resignation layered over it. His brother’s beloved voice, and the violation done against it. “Wait here,” Maedhros says, his voice something wretched and faraway. “Do not leave unless I tell you to.” He does not wait for an answer. Turns, sword familiar and heavy within his hand, and marches out into the camp again. Five tents, he counts. Two dead guards. The fire within him burns so white, he wonders if it will leave anything of himself behind, once it is done. Wonders if he can bring himself to care. Wonders, too, if this is what his father had felt like, when he found the innards of their grandfather’s head spilled over his front steps.

---

E - Maedhros & Maglor Week Fill for Day 2: Kings

Eventually, Maedhros sighs. “Am I so unbearable for you to look at, brother, that you will not even do so now when you clearly have recriminations against me? At least afford me the dignity—“ Maglor stops, his feet carrying him no further. There is a ringing in his ears that is rising with each thunderous beat of his heart, that travels to his tongue, presses against the back of his teeth like a scream that is begging to be let loose to level the forest and the camps around them. “Maitimo,” he says, a declaration of war. “Stop talking.”

---

A - Fingon/Finrod/Maedhros, Spoilt Princes Fic

“Ah, beloved, but we have company already, do we not?” It takes Findaráto an embarrassingly long time to understand what is happening, Maitimo’s eyes locking onto him up in the gallery. Findekáno hums, turning his attention towards him as well. His eyes are very bright in the dim light, and Findaráto feels pinned; thinks that he should stay very, very still, or perhaps run; or perhaps—perhaps the wisest choice would be to face this head-on. He is not the one kissing his cousin in hidden corners of their grandfather’s estate, after all. “Why don’t you join us, Ingoldo,” Findekáno says, tilting his head. “You have been standing there for a while; that cannot be comfortable.”

---

R - Fingon/Finrod/Maedhros, Spoilt Princes Fic Pt 2 (almost starts with an 'R' anyway... :D)

In retrospect, the walk to the Nolofinwëan residence is a blur that Findaráto would not be able to recall much more of than snatches. Telperion’s silver catching on Maitimo’s jewellery; Findekáno’s warm hand slipping over Findaráto’s exposed shoulder, fingertips dancing along his collarbones; people walking past them, smiling indulgently at the Noldorian Princes and their antics, and the way it makes Findaráto think, a little hysterical, if only they knew. “Would that please you?” Maitimo murmurs, leaning close so that the breath of his words ghosts hotly over Findaráto’s ear. “All of Tirion aware of us taking you between us, the only one who gets to have this?” “Ah, but that implies that I am the one who should count himself so lucky, does it not?” Findaráto counters, smiling, tilting his head in a way that he knows makes his hair fall prettily. “And yet from what I have heard last, the only one with more mothers desperate to put their daughters in his way is Makalaurë.” Maitimo blinks, and then he laughs, his head thrown back. Findekáno slings an arm around Findaráto’s neck and pulls him close. “See, and this is why we picked you.”

Tagging, with your word being HOME: @emryses @thefollow-spot @melestasflight @luthnethril @vefanyar @balrogballs @aredhels @polutrope @thescrapwitch @sallysavestheday and anyone else who'd like to! <3

[save-the-villainous-cat]

HEYY CATTT

Still love your writing and I’d like to ask for a sub top Villain and dom bottom Hero because AUGAHA. Anyways could you pretty please make it spicy too? THATS IT THEN BYE BYE

Something inside the villain understood this was an opportunity no one else had. The hero was notorious for being a lone wolf, working on their own and being, overall, a little misanthropic. They didn't talk much and they didn't discuss things. They were cold and uncontrollable at times.

Which was why the villain had been surprised. Meeting the hero at a bar, drunk and lovely had excited them. And after talking to them for a little while, the villain realised that their usual "hm" responses were not accurate to the person they actually were deep down. The hero was really into gossip and they loved complaining about other people.

It also turned out that they were funny and charming. The villain couldn't remember when they had laughed this much with anyone.

Luckily, the hero didn't have that much alcohol in their system, or else the villain would have never agreed to come over to them.

But these damn eyes. These terrible looks the hero gave them.

They weren't nemeses exactly. The hero was usually out for bigger fish. But every now and then, the hero would let them go and one time, they even worked together. One could say they were closer than others but, honestly...no one was really close with the hero.

"Are you nervous?"

"I'm not a virgin, if that's what you mean," the villain answered. They looked up at the hero who had been sucking hickeys into their neck for probably 20 minutes now. The villain's shirt was on the ground, next to the bed. It had been the first thing to come off.

"I didn't mean that." The hero smirked drunkenly and the villain could feel their own head reel from the cocktail they had had at the bar. The hero dared another kiss, possessive and almost so intoxicating that the villain's brain stopped working. "I'm quite aware that you have some experience."

"Some?!" The hero genuinely laughed this time and the villain couldn't even muster up any annoyance when they buried their head in the villain's shoulder and the pillow. The hero was hot and adorable. "That's so insulting."

"Oh, come on," they mumbled against the villain's skin. "Don't be upset, I can teach you."

The villain's face started burning again when the hero's fingers found their waistband for the second time that evening.

"I am very eager when it comes to that, you know." The villain felt their warm breath on their skin and their pretty fingers playing with the elastic band of their pants.

"Do you do that with every villain you come across?" they asked and frankly, it came out sadder than they had anticipated. They tried to think of a dumb joke to cover it up but the hero was quick to answer.

"No. I've never done this before."

"Aha, so you're the virgin here," the villain said, trying to make the joke work. This time, the hero only smirked, though. They pushed themselves up on their elbows until they were on top of the villain again.

"Oh, you really need this, don't you?" they asked. Suddenly, they let their hand dip below the waistband, between the villain's thighs. It wasn't quick and senseless. It was slow and careful and mean.

The villain gasped, surprised that teasing the hero had these consequences.

For a moment, that was all the villain could manage. Lay there, close their eyes and pray that the hero wouldn't stop.

"Love," the hero said eventually. "I promised to teach you."

"So...?" the villain asked back.

"Get on top," they whispered. The villain nodded instantly because, embarrassingly, they were eager too. They moved and could feel excitement prickle underneath their fingertips when they touched the hero. Yes, this was an opportunity. A good one, promising a perfect night.

The hum the hero made was of utter satisfaction.

Once they had switched positions, the villain felt quite daring.

"Good, very good…" the hero praised. "Now, let me help you with your pants."

The villain nearly jumped when the hero’s hands reached deep into their pants, pulling them down their thighs.

"…now help me with mine." The villain did so.

And it felt like the hero exposed them, step by step. As if not only their guard was dropping but also the villain’s. For the first time in their life, the villain didn’t feel insignificant. Being close to the hero, feeling their panting and sweat when they were close, seeing them enjoy what the villain did, hearing the praises and the hero’s little laughs when they got frustrated…it made the villain feel weirdly proud.

The villain hoped this moment could be longer, hoped this could go on forever but they knew the hero would leave them as soon as the sun rose.

They were wrong about that, though.

[the1975attheirverybest]

Education

Lesson #7: Communication is KEY.

A/N: well; you asked for it. It’s here.

Warnings: smut. Also not entirely proof read cuz I wanted to post it today for y’all so…

———

“Amelia?” Matty called out to her from behind the door, resting his forehead against it. “Can I please come in?” He cooed.

He knocked this time, in case she hadn’t heard him, “Amelia, darlin, please let me in.” He listened carefully for a shuffling of feet, any signs of movement at all, but none came. Soon, he began to pace back and forth to alleviate the raging of his heart. “Amelia, please. Open the door- please, I need to know that you’re alright.”

The silence was unbearable. As he paced by the bathroom door, Matty went over the events of the night in his mind, combing through every detail as he remembered it, trying to identify the moment that things went wrong.

He’d spent the entire way to the party wondering if she was going to be there. She’d designed the art work for the album that they were about to celebrate, so he’d hoped that Jamie would’ve had the sense to invite her. It’d gotten difficult to get a hold of her after their last phone call. Which, embarrassingly, he’d been too drunk to remember the details of. He has a vague recollection of talking to her, touching himself, alone, in his hotel bed, listening to her moan on the other end of the phone and wishing that she were eighth there with him. But he doesn’t remember much else. The texts were sparse and far between after that night. She wouldn’t pick up whenever he tried to FaceTime her. He’d written it off as time zone issues. It wouldn’t be the first time that his friendships or relationships were affected by his itinerant lifestyle. As he’d learned the hard way, over the years, nothing beats being in the same room with people. No matter how good distant connection is.

He’d spotted her soon after arriving at the event; seen her standing with a group of people that she doesn’t really like. He knew she was too polite to excuse herself from the conversation, so he figured if he inserted himself into the group, he could help pull her away.

If he was being honest with himself, his escape to LA was anything but effective, he’d thought about her every night while he was there. Even when he met up with his hookup. He was ashamed that he’d close his eyes and think of Amelia every time that another woman touched him. Try to remember what she sounded like. How good she felt wrapped around him the last time that he’d fucked her. How good he felt being with her. It took everything in him not to call out her name in another woman’s bed.

So, of course he’d been eager to finally see her again. But was that so wrong? Is that what hurt her? Was he pushy when he asked her to go into the bathroom with him? Did she not want to? She did hesitate, briefly, but he thought it was just because it was an entirely new thing that she’d never done before. And that was the whole point of their arrangement. He was meant to make her feel safe to try things out and figure out what she liked. Gain confidence to do things with other people. How’d they get from that to here?

Matty slid against the bathroom door crumbling yo the floor. “I just want you to know I’m right here, okay? I’m gonna stay right here. I just- I don’t know how to- I don’t know what to do right now, but I’m still here. I haven’t left you. I’m not going to.”

He ran his hands through his hair, attempting to breathe, deeply, and collect himself. Patience has never been a virtue that he possessed, though. “Oh, fuck this.” He mumbled before standing back up and banging on the door. “Amelia, please! Open this fuckin door! At least make a sound so I know that you’re okay in there. I can’t be out here thinking that- that you’ve hit your head against something and need- need- fuck! open this fuckin door!” He banged on the door repeatedly, more aggressive this time, as his patience wore thin.

His hands hurt from knocking against the door and his chest felt tight with worry. He won’t take this anymore. “Right, that’s it, then. I’m getting something to unlock this door with.”

With a 4 minutes YouTube tutorial, a butter knife, and one of his credit cards, he finally managed to open the door without breaking it.

“Oh, Amelia…” his heart sunk when he saw her, sobbing on the bathroom floor, her whole, naked body shaking. The sight paralyzed him for what felt like an eternity. His worst fear had come true. In trying to protect her from the hurt of the potential ill-intentions and miscommunications of complete strangers, by offering to be the person that she could experiment on, or with, he’d somehow wound up hurting her himself. The worst part is that he had no idea what he’d done wrong.

This moment wasn’t about his self-pity and indulgent guilt, he’d feel his feelings later on. Right now, he needed to be there for her. He ran into the room to grab the first thing he could find — his own shirt— and brought it back to wrap her up in, carrying her in his arms. His heart pounded against his chest, terrified that he’d make a wrong move and fuck this up, even more, so he narrated every single step he took, waiting a moment to give her the chance to object.

“Gonna just put this on you, so you don’t catch a cold…alright?” She said nothing. “I- umm- wanna get off the floor?” Again, nothing. “Well- I’m going to pick you up now, okay? If you want me to stop, just- say…say something.” “Bringing you to bed now, unless- well, unless you want to be sat somewhere else.”

She made no effort to protest or to stop him, so he took that as permission and proceeded, slowly, gently, as lightly as he could. His delicate touch and strong arms were a far cry from what was going through his mind. Matty held her in his arms as she wept into his bare chest. With every breath she took, every sniffle, and every tear drop that fell from her face onto his skin, his heart broke over and over again until he thought it couldn’t possible hurt any worse- and then it did.

When he felt her finally go still, her trembling breath calm and even, he looked down, and saw that she was asleep. Should he be relieved that, at least, she wasn’t crying anymore? Or should he focus on thr fact that, whatever he’d done had caused her to cry her eyes out, literally, to the point where she could no longer keep them open? He didn’t have it in him to move her or disrupt the first moment of peace that she’d had all night. So as his body went numb underneath her weight, he replayed their night in his mind, yet again, silent tears running down his face.

***

It was 3 am when Matty awoke from a dreamless sleep. Amelia was now fully wearing his shirt, all buttoned up, and clinging to his body, her legs intertwined in his, her cheek against his stomach, as she slept. The lights were turned out all the way, so she must’ve woken up at some point and walked around the hotel suite. When he stretched out his arm to feel around for his phone, he felt a water bottle on the nightstand. At least she’d had some water. That’s a good sign. Or was he desperate for anything to convince him that she was alright? Did he not deserve to feel relieved yet? Would he ever? He felt weak looking down at her. He wanted to kiss her forehead, to take her pain away, but he had this unshakable feeling that he’d break her, hurt her, cause her harm, if he ever touched her again.

In the morning, his body felt cold without Amelia pressed up against him. He had one text on his phone. It hurt his eyes to read it before they’d blink away the sleep. Mia ❤️: had to leave for a work thing. I’m okay. Thank you.

This was the worst news that he could’ve woken up to. He slammed his head harshly against the pillow, a loud cry tore through his chest.

***

“Matty?” Adam stood in the doorway, smiling, as he watched Matty sprawled out on the floor, arranging his son’s toys in some sort of circle, mumbling to the kid as if they were engaged in a serious conversation. “It’s been a while, what’re you two up to?” Adam walked over to them.”

“We’re creating toy rankings” Matty said matter-of-factly. “You know, like the Premier League tables?”

Adam giggled, Shaking his head. “Okay; I know the baby can’t be THAT entertaining and I’m his dad. So, who or what are you hiding out here from? And why couldn’t you do it at your own house?”

Matty glanced at Adam briefly before returning his attention to the army of toys. “Not hiding.”

“It’s Amelia, isn’t it?” Adam sighed loudly, joining Matty on the floor and instantly taking his son into his lap. “What’ve you done this time?”

Matty ceased his fiddling, cocking his head in shame. “I- erm…I- maybe didn’t pay attention when I should have.” Saying it out loud began to help piece together the situation in his head. “She- was trying to let me know that- that she wasn’t alright. I completely missed it.”

“Don’t sound much like you.” Despite Adam’s concern, he put on a cheerful demeanor to keep his boy happy. The contrast between his face and his words gave the conversation an eerie feel. Marty found it mildly distressing, if fatherly and admirable.

“I know. I fucked things up. Badly.”

“Well, have you apologized to her?”

“I- I want to. I just….can’t look her in the eye. And…..well, if that’s how I feel - Can’t imagine how she must feel.”

Adam said nothing for a long moment. When he spoke again, Matty hadn’t expected him to still be on that train of thought. “Let me ask you this: do you and Amelia ever just….hang out?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, like, not for sex. Just- for the sake of hanging out.”

Matty rolled his eyes, insulted by the implications of the question. “Of course we do. All the fuckin time. We went to see a film not too long ago, and, she came to see the set when we were working on the designs for tour. She stayed at mine one night cuz she was too drunk to go home…..” Matty paused, catching his breath, “do you need the dates and times as well? The fuck is ‘do you hang out?’ What kind of question is that!”

“Matty,” Adam looked him straight in the eyes, noting that, by his defensiveness, Adam must’ve hit upon a sore subject. “this all happened before the two of you started….well, fucking. Have you spent any time together as friends since then?”

Matty’s lips instantly parted, he was about to respond with “of course we have! What a ridiculous thing to ask!!” But, as he thought about it, he realized that Adam was right. He and Amelia were no longer really friends. His expression shifted from offended to embarrassed.

“It’s not like you’re incapable of maintaining the friendship.” Adam consoled him. “You’ve slept with friends of yours and kept them as friends before. So, why won’t you do it with Amelia?”

“I-I don’t know. It’s not on purpose. The time has just not been right recently. It’s just the way things have been going. I’ve just been busy. You know this. Band stuff.”

“So you have time to fuck her, but you don’t have time to hang out with her?”

Matty winced unable to bare hearing that about himself. “Well, not when you put it like that….She came to me and asked for this! We made an agreement- it’s not like that! You’re making me sound like a fuckin creep.”

“Go.” Adam nodded towards the door. “Go on, go apologize to her. I gotta get this little man ready for bedtime, anyway. Uncle Matty’s gotta go.”

***

Amelia was stunned when she answered the door, “Matty, what are you-“

“May I come in?” He spoke too quickly, nerves taking over him.

It was late. Plus, Matty never came over unannounced. So, with some confusion and concern, she let him in.

“What’s all this?” She pointed to the bags in his hands.

“We’ll get to that in a minute.” He waved her question away, his eyes scanning the apartment that he’s been to countless times before, with new found novelty. Anything to avoid eye contact. “Wanted to- erm…” he stuttered, still looking around. “how- how’re you feeling? You know, af-after the other night?” Matty stumbled over his words. He’d imagined this conversation going differently in his head. He’d even practiced his words on the way over here. But now that he was standing in front of her, certainty and practiced delicacy had left him. He was terrified. “You left before we could talk…”

Amelia led the way to the kitchen, with Matty trailing sheepishly behind her. She helped him set down the bags l in the kitchen while she considered his question. The answer was too complicated. She shrugged. “I’m okay….I think? I don’t know. I don’t know how I’m feeling. One minute I’m fine, and the next….” She was surprised to feel herself get so emotional so quickly.

All Matty could think was. you did this. You hurt her. You’re the reason she feels this way. He wanted to pick up one of her kitchen knives off the counter and pierce it through his own heart.

“Let- let’s sit down somewhere? Is that alright?”

Amelia’s brows furrowed. It wasn’t like him to be so uncertain. “Sure.”

In the living room, the sat on opposite ends of the same couch, Matty nervously fiddling with the sleeve of his jacket. “So- I think….I think I know how you’re feeling and why it happened. Would you like to hear it?” He looked up at her, briefly.

She smiled nervously. “Sure- I mean, any ideas would be better than no ideas.”

“I think, well, I think we pushed you too far in the bathroom. I was a bit more aggressive than normal.” Matty’s voice got caught in his throat, so he paused, collecting himself. He was determined not to make this about himself and his feelings. He mustn’t speak unless he’s sure that he can control his tone.

“Y-yeah. I mean, I guess? The- umm, hair pulling, and the whole bending over thing…you being demanding. We’d never done any of that before.”

Matty nodded, “go-go on. It’s good. It’s good to hear you say these things.”

“Not sure what else to say.” She shrugged. “I mean, I liked it. All of it. It was just…a shock. Like, too many new things at the same time, you know?”

“Mhm…keep- keep going.” Matty was positively trembling.

“Ummm….I don’t know. That’s it I guess? It was just overwhelming for a moment. But for some reason it made things better. Like- when you told me to fade away from you and bend over? At first- I panicked-“

“Can I ask why?” His eyes shot up, meeting hers.

“Oh, gosh. This is embarrassing.” She mumbled under her breath. “Cuz- cuz I couldn’t see you. I like seeing your face. I like being able to tell that you were happy with me. That I was doing what you wanted me to do.” Her face turning read, she smiled. “But- the panic, it made the orgasm even better. I didn’t hate it, necessarily….it was just…a lot.”

Matty was tongue tied, his thoughts spiraling. He couldn’t find a beginning or an end to anchor himself to.

“Matty? Are you with me?” Amelia attempted to meet his gaze. “Honestly, I mean it! It didn’t hurt or feel unpleasant. I just-“

“Yeah, well, we’ve talked about this happening in theory.” Matty finally regained his footing. “Remember when I told you to read some shit about ‘subspace’ ? I think…..the excitement, the pain, the pleasure, the anxiety- perfect storm. A cocktail of Adrenalin and endorphins to push you over the edge.”

“Oh.”

“Would explain the sudden inability to speak…the overly emotional state, the….eagerness to do more.” Matty listed all the indications that he recalled her showing.

“Can I ask….Is that- umm….would it also happen to be why everything felt so…strong? Like lights and noises and stuff?”

Matty’s heart ached in his chest. He was sure that kitchen knife stab would be easier to take than this. “Fuck me…..yes, yes it would explain that as well.” He closed his eyes, willing the tears to stay where they are. “Anyway, so, I think, all of that, then throwing that new restrained position on you…demanding that you get me off…it may have been a mistake.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Not ‘may.’ It was a mistake. Definitely. It was my mistake. And I’m- I’m sorry.”

Amelia didn’t know how to feel about this new revelation. She was glad to have an explanation for how her body and her mind had felt, not to feel so helpless over her emotions, but she had no idea what to make of any of it.

“It gets worse.” Matty confessed. “Once you’d safe-worded, i- I should’ve done more. Been better. Taken better care of you.”

“Oh. No…matty you did good. I felt okay. I mean, not really, I was feeling entirely disconnected from my body, but-“

“Yeah that’d be the subspace psychology…”

“Like afterwards. I felt okay waking up the next morning. Just….confused and embarrassed.”

Matty laughed. “So…not okay.”

She smiled at him, “it’s really not that bad, looking back on it now…”

“I was scared. I owed you better. But I was scared that I’d hurt you. I suppose I- didn’t want to admit to myself that I’d missed all the signs. Let it get to a point where you had to tap out. And we hadn’t umm….we hadn’t made a real plan for what happens if you do tap out. I mean, we have our aftercare routine for afterwards….but, I should’ve anticipated that we’d both be in a completely different headspace if we stopped suddenly.” He shrugged. “I got lazy on you.”

“Matty-“

“I did! It’s true. I got complacent. Comfortable. Things were going so well that I didn’t think anything bad could ever happen between us. So- so I was less prepared!!! Even though im always on you about always being prepared. And speaking up. Fuck- what a hypocrite.”

“Matty, don’t say that!”

“I’ve failed you. And I’m so, so, sorry, Amelia.” Matty finally burst into tears. But it didn’t feel enough. He wanted to get on his knees and beg, bow down to her and tell her how much she didn’t deserve his negligence. How much he wishes it were the other way around.

Allowing himself a moment of release, Matty quickly wiped the tears from his eyes and jumped to his feet. “Anyway, erm….the bags in the kitchen. I- I brought some things that we could- I mean, if you’d allow me- and I completely understand if you’d rather not- to make it up to you….take care of you the way that I should have that night. I’ve bought some things. So we could see what you might like to have on hand for emergencies like that. That is….uhhh- if, of course, you’d ever let me touch you again.”

Amelia smiled. “Yeah, I’d like that very much.”

***

“Okay, and then…once you’re calm, well, I guess I’d wanna check for injuries or something.” Matty was running down a new checklist he’d created to ensure that not a single detail is ever lost on him again. “But, since, I’m days later now, and we didn’t use anything that could hurt you….I’ve drawn you a bath, so, if you’d go in there, and- You enjoy that while I get you some food and water.”

“You’d leave me?” Amelia’s voice sounded needier than she’d intended. “By myself?”

Matty was stumped. It was a good thing they were running this rehearsal. “I- erm…had assumed that you’d want some space.”

She shook her head passionately. “No, no! Not at all. All I wanted, that whole night, was you.”

Matty stood there, blinking rapidly, staring at her face. “Okay, then. I’ll sit by the bathtub? Keep you company…”

She stepped forward, hesitantly, decreasing the space between them. “Please get into the bath? With me?” Matty could tell, by the blushing in her face, that this wasn’t easy for her either. “Want you to hold me, please?”

Matty nodded, silently, and began to undress.

***

“Here, you can uhhh…you can have this to wear.”

Amelia looked down at his extended arm and the t shirt that he was offering, chuckling heartily. It was that old ragged brown t shirt that was not so oversized when he’d first bought it. “You love that horrific thing. It’s like your favorite, for some reason.”

“Yes, and you hate it, but it is my favorite, so….now, it’s yours. You know, to wear on days like that. For- I don’t know. Comfort? Not to be so presumptuous as-“

“Shut up and hand it over before I set it on fire or something.”

***

In bed, Matty wrapped his strong, thick arms around her, squeezing her tight, breathing in her hair. She held onto his bicep, her hand tiny in comparison, stroking his arm, up and down, running her fingers over his tattoos. This, she thought to herself, must be the safest place on earth.

With considerable effort, Amelia wiggled within Matty’s tight grip, turning around so she was face to face with him, wrapping her arms around his neck, and pulling herself closer to kiss him. For the first time ever, Matty was stiff to her touch, his lips passive. It wasn’t long before he pulled away, slightly.

“Amelia- what….we shouldn’t.” He whispered despite them being completely alone.

“Matty, please?”

“I don’t want to hurt you again.”

“You’re not going to.”

“It’d be wrong. To- to take advantage. You’re vulnerable right now, and-“

“So are you.” She placed a kiss to his cheek, smiling faintly as she watched his face grow red.

“It’s my job to protect you- we agreed, I’d be a safe trial. I-“

“Please, I need you. I didn’t get to make you feel good last time. Please? Don’t want you to get into the habit of treating me like glass, I’d hate that.”

When he said nothing in return, she kissed him again, and this time, he kissed her back, his arms easing their grip on her, hands lowering to grab her bum. She moaned softly, smiling against his lips.

Matty hovered over her, now naked, body dipping his head to leave gentle kisses all over her.

“Stunning, you are.” He kissed the space between her breasts; her eyes fluttered shut. “Perfect.” He kissed her a little lower this time. “Gorgeous.” He was halfway to her belly button. Her hands naturally moved to hold his curls between them, her breathing quick and shallow, more desperate the closer that he got to her core.

“So good for me,” he mumbled against her skin, his breath raising goosebumps all over her, which did not go unnoticed by Matty.

He grinned, reveling in his power over her body. “Gonna make you feel so good, darlin,’ I promise.”

“Oh, Matty…” she whined, “please do.” Her neck strained against the pillow; her entire body jolting when she felt Matty’s mouth, suddenly, at her clit. “Fuckkk! Yeah….”

Matty growled, smiling to himself. He forbade his other senses from feeling anything but her. His eyes shut, his ears focused only on her melodious sounds. A zealous worshipper, every breath he drew was all her, taking breaks only to kiss and nib the insides of her thighs, his armpinning her down, firmly, as she writhed and shook. Not even her reflexive pulls at his hair could deter him. He was determined to give all of himself to her.

“Sorry, erm…” he smiled, shyly. “Condom.”

She felt his sudden absence sorely, whining out and calling for him to hurry back.

“I know, I know. Sorry, love.”

She heard him wince and shuffle onto the bed and knew that he was back.

“You ready for me?”

“Mhm, please, please, I need you.”

Matty had to restrain himself from instantly pulling her into his arms to ravage his insatiable lust for her, reminding himself that he wanted this to be gentle, soft, precise, slow.

She felt the slow pressure and opened her eyes to watch him throw his head back in pleasure, a long and drawn out moan leaving his lips.

“Fuuuuckkk mee- Amelia. So, fffuckin good. So tight.”

Matty’s chest rose and fell rapidly as he began to thrust into her, soon finding his rhythm. Once he’d given himself a moment to adjust, his finger was back on her clit, gently stroking it the way he knows she needed.

“Ohhh my god, Matty…” she whimpered.

“I know, my love. I’ve got you.” He leaned forward, taking her hands in his and intertwining their fingers together. He laid on top of her, his chest pressed into hers with the full weight of his body.

“You feel s-so good.” He cried out, the overwhelming pleasure bringing tears to her eyes.

Matty kissing and sucking at the skin underneath her ear put her over the edge. She gasped, incoherently repeating “I- I’m gonna- cum…but it’s - it’s too much.”

“It’s okay, it’s okay. I’ve got you, darlin. Let go, it’s gonna feel g- oh my god- good.”

He felt both her hands squeeze his tightly and knew that she wouldn’t hold on much longer.

With a loud cry of his name, she gasped sweetly into his ear, and he felt her clench and gush around him, trembling as she came undone.

Matty himself couldn’t hold on for much either, her squeezing him tightly through her orgasm, sent his own waves of pleasure on the heels of hers, his head falling to her shoulder, he moaned softly, his eyelashes tickling her skin.

Matty thought he’d heard her whisper “I love you” into his ear as the rush of excitement flooded his mind.

***

Neither of them had the heart to be the one to pull away first, so they remained in that intermingled state, basking in the afterglow of that release, nothing but the hot air, and their rapid breathing mellowing out, in the room around them.

Amelia swallowed harshly, her mouth feeling dry even as her body glistened with hers and Matty’s sweat.

“I love you.” She said more clearly this time.

He couldn’t have mistaken her words this time. And if he had any doubt at all, the feeling of her heart beating furiously against his, after it had just calmed down, was unmistakable.

Matty remained perfectly still, his mind blank. It was it racing so quickly that it was impossible to hold onto any thought? He couldn’t tell the difference.

“Matty? I love you.” Amelia spoke again, helpless to stop herself. Now that it was spilling out of her, it was as if the floodgates had opened. She loves him. She loves him. She loves him….

[azzie-beastbinder]

Symmetrical Scarring

If Koda Hayashi had ever existed legally, he would have become a doctor.

Not out of a particular desire for that path in life, but because his skills with medicine and healing were swift and certain. He had trained in that path from the first budoka lessons he took. He had doubled down on those studies after he was free of the Futurists. He had gone out of his way to find a dying plane with a miraculous healing syringe and extracted the knowledge of how they are made from any scientist who would speak to him. Even if he did choose to sleep with one of aforementioned to secure that information, it was still worth it, because now he could support his gang and the Legion of Dusk both without issue. They were embarrassingly simple to make, and cultivating the ingredients was his second most important duty beyond being the Dokuchi boss on the whole.

Working in the infirmary hidden deep in the back of the Cherry Blossom Orphanage was familiar. What was less familiar was the injured man, a few years older than Koda, laying on a cot. Tatsunari, the boss of the Mukotai Reckoners, recently freed from two straight years of captivity and torture. Thanks to Koda’s quiet alliance with Thrullvia and the Old Thrull themself, a more proper skin graft had been applied in place of the slap-dash ones that the Saiba Futurists had done – the extra hands in the form of Octavia were especially helpful with that surgery. The IV drip had done its work to help with the dehydration. Now all that remained was to wait for Tatsunari to wake up.

Koda was cleaning scalpels and replacing broken blades when he finally heard Tatsunari groan. He silently set them down and made his way over to Tatsunari’s cot. “Easy,” he said, careful to keep his voice calm and clear. It was getting harder and harder for him to make noise on purpose. He knew that he and Haruko needed another break.

Tatsunari’s eyes fluttered open, and he winced slightly under the lights of the infirmary. His first attempt at speaking was hoarse. “Fuckin’ ow-” It turned into a body-wracking cough, cutting off any further curses.

Koda let out a silent sigh of relief. Waking up swearing was always promising. “Yeah, I’m not surprised it hurts with the condition we found you in,” he said, watching Tatsunari get his bearings.

Tatsunari’s right hand trembled as he raised it from the cot. He stared at it, looking at the evidence left behind of the second, proper skin graft. “...This isn’t real,” he whispered. His voice cracked. “This...this can’t be real...”

Koda pulled up a chair and sat down so he was close enough to Tatsunari so they could speak comfortably, but far enough away that he didn’t take it as a threat. He was trying to be careful, considering their past conflicts with each other. “...How much do you remember?”

Tatsunari clenched his eyes shut and hugged himself. He recoiled slightly on the cot. His eyes snapped back open when he felt the IV keeping him from moving his left arm too much.

Koda got up and headed to the sink within Tatsunari’s line of sight, filling a cup with water. He came back and set it down within arm’s reach on the small table next to Tatsunari’s cot. “Take your time,” he said softly.

“It sounds like you have four options,” the Old Thrull had said when Koda asked them for help. “One, turn him over to the Order of Jukai and wash your hands of him. No one else would blame you for that, least of all me. You say that you find your actions comparable to his? I disagree, villages are different than buildings, and poisoning water supplies is worse. Also, while the kami are not a good barometer for morality, being forsaken by them is not a status you have.

“Two, you cut him loose after healing him. You did your duty as a healer, and he is not someone who reports to you.

“Option three, you work with the Order of Jukai to find a form of justice that satisfies them without subjecting Tatsunari to further direct torment or an execution. Possibly learning the error of his ways with you as the warden. However, if he is not interested in redemptive justice, then that option of equitable justice may be off the table.

“Or, option four, kill him and dump the body on Jukai turf.”

Looking at Tatsunari now – weakened, tortured, barely able to drink water, stripped of his gang’s Reckoner tattoos after being skinned alive – Koda couldn’t bring himself to go through with the fourth option.

“If it were me in your shoes, I would heal him to full, then turn him over to the Order of Jukai, and advocate that he be given a fair trial according to their customs,” the Old Thrull had gone on. “I am not you, and am very much a politician, so my impulse is to preserve the long-standing alliance rather than fully advocate for my former and possibly current enemy’s wellbeing. What of those options is right for you and the rest of the Dokuchi is something only you and yours can truly decide.”

Koda had already done as much for Tatsunari as he would have for any of his Dokuchi – attack a Futurist facility, leverage alliances to ensure better healing after the extent of the torture was discovered, and protecting them in his own home. Considering how much the two of them had fought in the past and how much the current Mukotai were harming others, it was...a lot more than he had to.

Ugh. Koda hated having clear evidence that he was nice. It made it hard to keep up the whole “terrifying Reckoner boss” thing.

“They’re not alive,” Tatsunari whispered.

Koda snapped out of his thoughts. “Who?” Of course the Futurists weren’t alive. At least, not the branch chief and whatever ones were foolish enough to attack paladins of the Legion of Dusk. The others had been arrested and were currently being handled by Kaizen Tsuji and Tony Fandango. Koda had given the two approval to do as they wished when it came to leaving the Futurists alive or killing them. He had to trust his own Dokuchi, after all.

Tatsunari’s hand shook as he put the cup, now only half-full, back down on the table by his cot. “My...my gang,” he whispered. His voice was so hoarse that Koda had to lean in a bit to hear him. “They...they were all killed. All the ones that got caught. The Futurists turned them into...” Tatsunari stopped speaking, searching for a word.

“Zombies?” Koda suggested gently.

A few beats of silence. “...Like the Phyrexians,” Tatsunari finally whispered.

There was a lump in Koda’s throat. “How long ago did this happen?”

Tatsunari didn’t meet his gaze. “Just after the invasion,” he mumbled. “We had been working with them since...since Quickfang was in charge.”

Koda raked his memory – or rather, the memories stored in the Serpent – to remember who Quickfang was. It was a pretty common nezumi name, after all. He found the answer among his predecessor’s uploaded memories. Quickfang had been the previous Mukotai boss and had been captured and tortured to death by off-duty Imperial enforcers. That sent the entire Mukotai gang into a spiral of internal fighting over who would become the boss, giving the Dokuchi the chance to catch up with them in terms of power and skill, until Tatsunari had taken command.

Had he not done that, the Dokuchi would be the third most powerful gang in Towashi. Which would have made Koda’s job even more fucking difficult than it already was.

“What changed?” Koda coaxed. Going from allies to test subjects was a big jump, though not an unexpected one given the Futurists being involved.

Tatsunari licked his chapped lips before he answered. “They said we were more useful as mindless servants. They...they made me watch while they killed the others. They were...they were trying to use me to control the others...”

Koda kept his expression schooled to something soft, but internally, fury clawed at his spark and manapool. Tatsunari’s suffering by Vakuze held echoes of what Sakai had done to Koda eight years ago.

At least he had already decapitated Vakuze and had the building burnt to the ground.

“Will the Mukotai listen to you, Tatsunari?” If they could stop the soul-harvesting by bringing Tatsunari back to his gang, that was a plan that Koda was willing to try.

Tatsunari’s voice was softer now. Smoother, though, because he was getting used to speaking again. “I don’t think so. They’re still not...alive. They’re following the Futurists’ orders, not mine.” His gaze flicked around, as if scared that someone was listening.

“It’s just us in here,” Koda promised, trying to calm Tatsunari down. “No other Reckoners, no mics, no kami.”

“I...” Tatsunari swallowed and grabbed the cup of water, drinking some more of it before he tried to speak again. “I don’t know if this is real, or...or if I’m still in there...”

Koda tensed. This sounded more and more like how he felt when he and Haruko bonded and escaped Sakai. He had been convinced that he was still trapped for...well. An entire year after the escape. “...What can I do to prove that this is real?” It was a calculated question.

“...Tell me something the Futurists would never know,” Tatsunari whispered, sinking back down onto the cot and staring up at the ceiling.

Koda thought about that. Then, he remembered something “Four years ago, we held a meeting in the Dragon’s Well between our gangs on your birthday. Kotose was with you, and I saw her give you a frog plush toy while you two were heading back to your turf. It was the only time I’ve seen you smile about something.”

Tatsunari’s fingers dug into the cot. “You saw that?” he whispered.

“Sure did.” It was the first time that Koda had seen a side of Tatsunari other than “smug” or “argumentative”. It had made Koda reconsider a lot about the Mukotai boss. “Convinced this is real now?”

“...Yes.” Tatsunari shifted slightly so he could reach for the cup of water again. “...I know that not all of my Mukotai were killed. Kotose, Quicksign, and Steelblade all escaped. I know they weren’t turned into...puppets, but I don’t know where they are now. I don’t even know how long it’s been...”

“Two years. You’ve been held captive and tortured by the Futurists for two years.”

Tatsunari slowly sat up and drank from the cup. When he put it back down on the table, Koda saw tears sliding down his cheeks.

Koda silently got up and came closer. He sat down on the cot and wasn’t surprised when Tatsunari slumped against him. Instead, he opened his arms offered what he wished he could have accepted eight years ago: comfort.

Tatsunari accepted it, clinging to Koda and letting out a choked sob. He felt frail and broken, like how Koda had felt for years after his escape.

Koda’s heart ached with empathy. “Let it out,” he whispered. “I won’t tell. Just let it out.”