#I actually matched scars with him on his left hand

[robiinurheart33]

Gnaws at the iron bars of my enclosure I love my babygirl

Extras below (process + no scars and hair)

[charliemwrites]

Okay so the poll results were for an OC captain, though it was close enough that I still hesitate to name him in the canon of the fic.

I’m also going to be taking my time fleshing out his character because it’s been a while since I made an OC. So please be patient while I add tidbits here and there to build his character.

Content: safe/sane/consensual sex, descriptions of scars, mentions of past torture

Nikto beats you and Nova twice out of three rounds — but that’s no surprise. The man moves like a machine. Even against two opponents he controls the battlefield like a chess master. Neither you nor Nova take it to heart, especially since he always gives you both advice at the end, helping you to improve.

He’s a great partner, a great teammate; you’re sure to show him your appreciation after sparring with a kiss to his nose-plate. His hands spasm on yours as he helps you unwind your wraps, gloved thumb sweeping over your bare palm.

“You did good today,” he says, voice rough and accent thick. He must be pissed about earlier still, when Ghost and Soap threw your matches with them.

“So did you,” you reply, squeezing his hand in return.

“Stay with me tonight?” He asks.

You damn near melt. Nikto has an open invitation to your room, but his is a sacred place, only for him unless otherwise specified. That he’s asking you to come to his tonight…

“Absolutely,” you reply, squeezing his hand. “I just need to see the captain first. Okay?”

He grunts in understanding, eyes flicking to the door the 141 left through earlier. He mutters something in Russian — some insult about goats and mothers you think.

“Yeah, exactly,” you reply, voice dropping with simmering irritation.

A good spar with him and Nova has helped ground you a bit, but it hasn’t helped the anger. You don’t spar any of your team with anger; they don’t deserve.

Luckily, you and your captain worked something out a while ago when you’re feeling a bit… aggressive.

“Cap?” You call, still holding Nikto’s hand. “Could I stop by for a nightcap later?”

His eyes flash, a sinful twist to the corner of his mouth. “Yeah, babygirl. I’ll leave the door unlocked.”

Over his shoulder, you see Nova arch her eyebrows and Keegan grin wicked into his water bottle. Gossip fiends.

“Showers. Now,” the cap says, slapping them both on the ass. “Double time. I need to have a word with Price still.”

—

Long after the sun has gone down, you’re standing outside your captain’s door. Take a breath. Remind yourself of your mantra. He wants you, always will, and he’s going to take care of you.

Then loosen your shoulders, unboxing all the frustration and aggression you set aside earlier. Feel it burn through you, make your hands twitch in and out of fists.

One more inhale, and then you shove the door open.

“There you are,” he rumbles. “C’mere.”

You flash your teeth, “No.”

He tilts head back and forth, cracking his neck. “Alright then.”

There’s no real fight. You’re not looking to get away or actually hurt him. And he’s not looking to actually make you submit. That’s not the point of this game.

He strides across the room and shoves you back, pins your shoulder to the wall. You grip at his forearm, nails scraping, and squirming as the hot, hard length of his body squishes you flat.

“Settle,” he orders.

“Fuck you,” you snarl back, nipping his lip.

He growls, tangling a hand in your hair and tipping your head back. Leaves a searing trail of kisses down your throat, bites a bruise into your collarbone. You wriggle and fuss all the while, safely held still and supported by his hands and body.

“Brat,” he rasps in your ear.

“I’m not,” you snap.

“Oh, yes you are, babygirl,” he replies, a mean smirk on his flushed face. “But that’s alright, I like you bad.”

He pulls you from the wall, bullies you onto the bed. You try to grab at him, get him under you. He doesn’t indulge like he normally would. Pins you on your back so that you can keep fighting, yanking at your wrists in his firm grip, pushing your hips up to grind into his as if trying to flip you both.

He slots his hips between your thighs, positions just his knees under your ass so that your back is arched, shoulders on the mattress. Limits your mobility, but that doesn’t stop you from kicking at air, making half-angry, half-desperate noises in the back of your throat.

“Gonna say please like a good girl?” He teases.

“No,” you hiss back.

He has the audacity to chuckle, which just riles you up more. (It’s supposed to). You curse as he works a hand beneath your shirt, palms at your bare breasts and pinches your nipples until they ache. You gasp like a pornstar, surprised and turned on.

“Pretty noise,” he coos. “Do it again.”

When he twists, you mewl, face immediately burning up as you renew your “efforts” to get away. All it does is make the treatment rougher than if you just laid still and took it, but that’s what you want, what feels good. A little edge to the pleasure as adrenaline and energy electrify you from head to toe.

He grinds against you, cotton of your loose shorts sticking against your soaked cunt. Christ you were turned on before you even barged in. Now you’re fucking throbbing for it.

“Gimme,” you grit out, rocking against him. Gears successfully shifted from physically taking control to just ordering him around.

“Give you what, brat?” He goads, slapping your pussy. The thin fabric muffles the sting, but it sends a white-hot ache through you that makes your eyes roll. “My cock? You think you deserve it?”

Another slap. You cry out, notice the sly look on his face when he notices that you’ve soaked through your shorts.

“Yes,” you reply, all confidence and reckless arrogance.

He yanks his underwear down to mid thigh, thick cock springing up to smack lewdly against his toned stomach. Precum smears over the pale scars there, sticks in the trail of groomed hair there.

“Yeah?” He growls. “Alright then.”

He yanks the crotch of your shorts aside (you hear stitches pop) and then he’s plunging into you. It’s too much all at once and you cry as much, knees squeezing around his tattooed ribs.

“Fuck.” His voice is shredded, so rough and low you feel it more than hear it. He lets your wrists go to grip at your ass, grinding deeper. Can feel the fat head of his cock bullying at your cervix, his favorite passtime while you adjust to the thick base of him.

“How does that feel, babygirl?” He murmurs in your ear. “You needed daddy’s cock, huh? Needed it to set you right again?”

You whimper out a curse at him, gripping at his biceps. He croons mockingly, thumb slipping between your bodies to press at your clit. Not rubbing or grinding, but just pressing. Just the right amount to make you sweat and pant, start trying to squirm to get any friction at all.

He lets you — could stop you if he wanted, or pull away entirely — but he likes winding you up like this. Likes seeing all that vicious energy turned to seeking pleasure from him.

“Fucking move,” you try to snarl, but your voice breaks midway through and comes out more pleading than you’d like.

“What was that, babydoll? Are you talking to me?” He teases, rolling his hips.

Your mouth falls open, a moan ripping from your chest, deep and needy.

“Daddy, move,” you cry, voice going up in pitch.

“There’s my brat.”

He pushes one of your knees up against your chest and slams into you. You scream and he doesn’t even try to cover your mouth, whispering filth as he tilts your hips for the best angle with his other hand. Fucks into you deep and rough, grinning at the obscenely wet noises every time he plunges into you.

Can practically feel him fucking your cervix open to get just that little bit deeper. Licks his lips when he sees the little bump in your stomach. You give as good as you get, squeezing down tight, bouncing to meet him, nails scoring lines down his back and shoulders.

“Gonna ask daddy to make you cum?” He goads.

“Earn it,” you reply.

He laughs and pulls out, flips you onto your stomach while you’re still dizzy with emptiness. Hikes your hips up and sinks into you like coming home. Your knees almost give out but that’s fine by him, he’s plenty strong enough to hold you up all on his own, using you like a noisy little toy for his own benefit.

“Fuuuuck,” you whine, feeling overwhelmed, pleasured tears gathering in your eyes. Then, in a whisper, “Daddy…”

“Feel like being good yet?” He asks. A large, rough hand circles that back of your neck and pins you face down to the mattress.

“N-no,” you whine, fight gone out of you now that you’re getting exactly what you want.

Fuck it feels so, so good. Every inch bullying you wide open and loose, so wet you’re dripping down your own thighs, wetting his ball as they slap against you. You feel split open and pinned, unable to do anything but take it, tortured stupid on ecstasy. He licks a stripe up your back before pressing you down prone, ankles locked around yours to keep you open and accessible.

“S’alright, doll, don’t need to be good to be mine.”

He’s barely pulling out halfway before ramming home now. You can barely get a breath in, the weight of him pressing whatever resistance was left right out of you.

“Daddy, daddy,” you sob. “Fuck, I wan’ it.”

“Want it, huh?”

“Mhmm,” you moan, pressing your face into your arms. Cant your hips just that little bit to get him abusing that bundle of nerves.

“Oh, right there, huh?” He coos. “Did daddy find your little sweet spot?”

A series of short, ruthless thrusts right there, making incoherent, desperate noises fall from your mouth. Before you realize it, he’s wedged a hand beneath your hips and has two fingers toying with your poor, neglected clit.

“‘M gonna… f-fuck, fuck,” you whine, writhing (or at least trying to) against him. Not sure if you’re trying to urge him on or get away. Doesn’t matter, he’s in charge, has been since the beginning. “Daddy, I wanna…”

“Whenever you want, babygirl,” he replies, voice going all warm and gooey. Your chest hitches. “Squeeze around me nice and tight. Let me feel you cum on my cock.”

Didn’t realize that was what you needed, but you fucking scream as you clench down around him, stars bursting behind your closed eyes. He fucks you through it, tapping against your g-spot again and again until you dissolve into a weak, wet whimpers.

“Daddyyyy,” you whine.

And that sets him off, flooding you with heat. He loses control for a second as his hips jerk, pounding brutally into your oversensitive, swollen pussy. Makes a few tears finally slip down, soaking into the sheets along with your drool. The sound of him groaning as he cums makes you spasm around him again, a little aftershock that milks the last of his release.

“That’s it, easy,” he groans, brushing kisses over your trembling shoulders. “Easy, doll.”

He lies over you for a few minutes, letting you feel him there. Right there with you. Breathing and recovering, holding you through the endorphin rush. When you squirm a bit, he eases off you, cock slipping out. You shiver at the feeling of his cum trickling out of you, glassy eyes fluttering.

“C’mere,” he soothes, tugging you in. Lying on his side, he hitches one of your thighs up over his hip, tucks your arms between your chests and rests his stubbly chin on your temple. You splay your fingers over his peck, over the bold, dark symbol for SpecGru. Feel his heart settling back into rhythm and sigh, snuggling in.

The hormone drop is a monster on your emotions, often leaves you shivery and lonely, a little sick in your own body. First time you did this with him ended in tears, expecting him to get up and leave. He didn’t, never has, but you both learned that as much physical contact as possible in the aftermath eases the comedown away from a total crash.

“You did so well, babygirl,” he whispers, leaving kisses everywhere he can reach without dislodging you. “Such a good girl. Even if you think you’re being bad.”

You flush, hide your face against his neck. He chuckles, honeybalm on your soul. Can feel his hand start to move, then pause as he remembers that you can’t handle that stimulation right after sex. So he just squeezes, slow and gentle, helps get you back in your body.

“I still want you,” he assures, echoing your mantra back at you. “Always will. You’re mine.”

You outline a heart shape onto his forearm, not quite able to speak yet. He recognize the feeling though and gently guides your face up to place a slow, gentle kiss to your lips.

“Love you, too, babygirl. Ready to clean up?”

You nod. He eases you up, lets you cling onto his hand as he walks you to the en suite. Fills you a glass of cool water to sip on while he gets the shower running. Turns his back while you use the restroom and wash your hands, then guides you into the hot water.

You lean into him, near boneless, as he washes you, calloused palms with soap instead of a cloth. Then sits still, hands on your hips, while you return the favor. This part is one of the most important for you, getting to freely return touch.

(Simon hardly ever let you touch, especially in the aftermath. Sure, you could scratch and grip at him during sex, but during foreplay it was all part of his dom persona that you couldn’t just touch at will. And afterwards… well. It’s not like he didn’t do aftercare. He did! But the almost formulaic warm cloth wipe down, glass of water, doze for a bit before he left was not… not ideal. Not like this.)

Your captain hums, eyes half-lidded but trained on you, while you smooth your palms over the firms planes of his muscles. Fingers tracing over tattoos and scars. Squishing and patting at the healthy layer of tissue over his stomach and thighs. Lets you nuzzle and kiss his soft cock, even though it makes his fingers twitch with oversensitivity.

Squeezes when you lace fingers together to stretch his arm out, inspecting the lines your nails carved into him.

“M’okay, baby,” he says before you can ask. “Feels good.”

You similarly assure him over the bruises on your wrists and hips, smiling and leaning up to kiss his jaw.

When the shower is over, he dries you off, playfully ruffling your hair just to kiss the pout off your lips. He dresses you in one of his shirts and a spare pair of your own joggers, found in his duffel.

You sit with him for a while longer still, enjoying how he lets himself relax once he knows you’re taken care of. He lies with his head on your chest, your fingers fluffing his hair, while the two of you watch an episode of some stupid show Keegan got the rest of the team into.

Only when it’s over does he ask if you’re ready to go to Nikto’s. If you wanted to stay, you could. Nikto would understand. But you’re looking forward to a night with your quiet Russian while the other three have a little movie night.

At the door, you kiss your captain goodnight. Hug and kiss Keegan and Nova as you pass them in the hall headed to his room. Nova makes a point of kissing one of the bruises on your wrist, while Keegan whispers that he loves you.

You pad to the first door in the hall, where Nikto has stationed himself as the team guard dog. You tap gently at the door, a pre-determined pattern to let him know who it is.

The door cracks open, one startling blue eye peering from the darkness.

“Evening, Nik,” you coo.

A hand reaches out and gently yanks you inside. And then next thing you know, you’re wrapped up in thick arms devoid of any usual covering. You feel smothered, in a good way.

“Love,” he rasps in Russian into your hair.

You hum in return. Place your palms flat on his abdomen. The muscles clench, you pause as you realize his abs, impressive as they are, feel too defined. He needs water. Taking mental note, you draw your hands carefully around, feeling the raised bumps of wicked scars. Make sure he can track exactly where and how you’re touching until your arms are wrapped around him in a return hug.

“Smell good,” he murmurs.

“Yeah?” You giggle. “Showered just for you.”

He snorts, then scoops you up. You make a delighted noise, wrapping your arms around his neck as he carries you across the room. Of course his navigation is impeccable, even in pitch black. He lays you down on the bed, but before he can crawl up with you, you place a hand on his shoulder.

“You’re dehydrated.”

He makes an annoyed noise, sounds like he’s about to protest. You shush him with a quick peck to his chest.

“Get a glass please? I could use some water myself.”

Which has him instantly moving. You politely turn away as the bathroom light flicks on, the water runs. Can hear him chug two entire glasses before he fills it one final time. The light turns off again. The bed dips as he returns, presses the cool edge gently to your cheek.

“Thank you,” you murmur, sipping about a quarter of it to appease him before he sets aside for you on a bedside table.

And then he gets what he really wants, stripping you down and tucking you in like a nesting bird. Practically on top of you while you’re still reeling from how much skin you can feel. Even during intimacy, he tends to stay clothed or mostly clothed. But right now all you can feel is a pair of underwear against your bare ass. Everywhere else it’s miles of warm skin, uncovered muscle and texture of scars.

“This is nice,” you coo. “Can I kiss you?”

“Yes.”

You wiggle around until you’re chest to chest. Start with his hands. Kiss each smooth fingertip, prints flayed off. Then his palms, the divots from nails driving through. Flip them over to kiss his scarred knuckles, smile at the way he twitches, flexing them outward like he’s trying not to close his hand.

“Okay?” You ask.

“Yes.”

You kiss his wrists, his forearms, to his collarbone. You’ve peeked a blue-black tattoo there before. Stars and the start of something that might be religious. Spend a little extra time there, tongue peeking out. He shifts; you take it as a sign of discomfort and move on.

“Here next,” he says when you dip to go to his chest.

He guides your face up his neck, where you press long (but chaste) kisses until you bump his jaw. And realize that’s all skin too.

“Oh,” you breathe. “Can I…?”

“Yes.”

You feather your lips along his fresh-shaved jaw, the nicked scars on his chin. Then up, ignoring the wicked scar along his cheek. Breathe against his temple, feeling dizzy with the trust he’s showing you.

“I love you,” you whisper, continuing along to his nose, twice broken and poorly set each time. A line over one nostril where a piercing was ripped out. He makes a noise in his throat, think he might be having trouble speaking again. Don’t mind.

He lets you get down to his mouth, where a particularly twisted scar warps part of his upper lip away from his teeth. You think that if you saw it in the light, his canine would be visible. His lower lip is uneven too, like a misaligned seam.

You don’t pay any special attention to any of it, focused more on reacquainting yourself with how your mouth fits with his. He doesn’t lead, doesn’t rush or pull or press. But there’s tension all along his body, everywhere you touch. You don’t ask for more than a chaste kiss, and when you pull away, you tilt your forehead gently against his.

“Still okay?” You ask.

“Still okay.”

[devilfic]

part two to this because I can't stop thinking about them

you're actually really good at this.

miguel can count on one hand, maybe a few fingers less than that, the number of times he's met his match. not many could keep up with him, could take a blow from the full weight of his fist and stay standing, but you can. and you're relentless.

he could be shaking with rage and by the time he's spent sparring with you, you're still grinning with all the energy you had from when you first started. it's the thing that really excites you, he notices: the thrill of the chase, the struggle, the victory and defeat. because he never sees you get like that unless he's taking you. to the mat.

you get this feverish look in your eyes that he doesn't know how to satiate yet, but he likes testing your limits the same way you test his. he likes seeing that excitement on your face, it makes him keep coming back for more.

until he splits your cheek open.

you hadn't calculated correctly, hadn't considered how close his talon would come to your face until it had torn the skin beneath your eye in two. the blood dribbles down your cheek.

miguel's eyes go wild. when he first felt the resistance against his claw, he'd thought of much, much worse. he'd stood there, hand hovering between the two of you in a stunned silence waiting for something worse to happen. he watched the red pearl at the cut, so slim that had it been anyone else, he wouldn't have even hesitated, "shit."

you touch a finger to the blood, smearing it, "it's okay, it's nothing."

it is nothing. to anyone else in the spider society, it would be nothing. the super healing would kick in and wouldn't even scar. and he'd seen you heal before, had left bruises on you that mended themselves within hours.

he presses his thumb to the cut. a bead of your blood sits on the surface of his finger, a reminder that as strange and wonderful and powerful as you are, you bleed all the same. you watch him, curious, "you can have some. if you want."

his eyes flicker to you with that same shock from when you'd first caught him off guard, "what?"

you gesture to his thumb, "my blood. I don't mind it."

miguel stares, "I'm not a vampire."

"that's what gwen called you."

"I'm... spiders have fangs."

you frown, "then why-"

"are you sure you're okay?" miguel asks, even though he sees for himself that the blood has stopped. soon, your skin would sew itself back together. soon, this wouldn't even matter.

you soften. you melt. miguel doesn't know what to do with all the warmth in your expression... "of course. I can handle you, o'hara. no need to be gentle." and there you go again. you know exactly what you're doing when you say those words and look up at him like that. he feels hot under the collar. he presses his thumb into your cheek and smears the blood even more, but you just laugh, "I knew you had a soft spot for me."

his grumble is meant to be a growl—a warning—but he comes off sounding like a puppy who's bitten off more than he could chew, "not in this universe."

part three

[juneberrie]

HANDS

SUMMARY - literally just a brain dump of hcs about their hands <3

CHARACTERS - percy jackson , jason grace , leo valdez , frank zhang

— & .

PERCY JACKSON

percy wears rings ; specifically silver rings. i feel like he also wears bracelets, specifically silver chain bracelets or anything matching with you. also always has a hair tie or scrunchie on his wrist for u. his hands aren't super veiny - they're kinda smooth ?? idk how to describe them but theyre just veiny enough that 😵‍💫. his nails r pretty short i feel - his mom made sure he regularly cut them and never bit them. he does wear nail polish sometimes but half the time it gets chipped.

JASON GRACE

zoo wee mama this bitch has veiny hands <3 they go well w his BEEFY ASS forearms n biceps !! jason is so yummy ugh but anyways. he rarely ever wears jewlery i feel. only ever one ring on his middle finger and its just a plain band, silver with no engravings. his nails r kinda long-ish, bc he grew up with wolves and like he used to scratch people as a child i just know it. he can't stand if his nails are super long but he doesn't keep them as short as frank. his nails are actually really well kept ??? he only ever wears clear nail polish on them. also i feel like he uses hand lotion n shit ?? fancy ass

LEO VALDEZ

aughhhhhh he also doesn't have super veiny hands ?? theyre like just veiny enough tee hee. his hands + fingers r very calloused from all the work he does ( yk he's good w his hands 🤭 ) so they're kinda rough. his nails are short bitch. like short short. he grew up biting them so like. theyre short. i feel like he would only ever wear rings on super special occasions because he doesn't want them to get messed up while he's working. he definitely has a couple of scars on his hands from accidents he's had while working or just when he's being clumsy asf. he paints his nails a lot but it always chips after like twenty minutes.

FRANK ZHANG

this. mf. has big hands. theyre real veiny and they're BIG. they're really soft n always warm <3 he won't wear any other ring except for one his mother left him, its gold and it has his last name engraved on it. his nails r pretty short, thats just how he likes to keep them. i personally can't see frank ever painting his nails but maybe he'll let you do it just once, because it makes you happy. he'll take it off like an hour after but only because he doesn't like the way it feels on his nails.

[vanessaedp]

141 + König reacting to you taking off your mask.

taking off ur bally 😜😜✌️✌️😗😗🫶🫶

warnings: fluff, british slang 😛

FLASHING GIF WARNING

___

Price

He had known the reason why you wore a balaclava and if he's honest. He hadn't ever expected you to take it off.

That was until today.

It was a simple mission really, do some fancy dress up party and poison the target.

However, to get into the party you need to have a partner

So, you and Price partnered up and went to the party as a fake couple. You wore a simple red dress and he wore a tuxedo.

The day before the mission he approached you. "Planning to paint your mask to match the dress, Sergeant?" He joked.

"No sir." You shake your head. "Actually, I wasn't going to wear it at all but now that you say that I might have another idea." You scoff at Price's dissapointed expression.

On the day of the mission you and Price are sat in a vehicle, he's running through the mission with you and take your mask off.

His look alone sent shivers down your spine. You expected him to look at you with horror or disgust but to your suprise he looked at you with admiration.

"Bloody hell, your beautiful, sarge." He said, his voice raspy and his throat dry.

"Don't get too excited, captain." You laugh.

Ghost

You and Ghost had some things in common.

You both were traumatised at a young age and you both wore masks.

He cared for you somewhat. Like how he cared for Soap

Except he liked you more.

During this mission it hadn't gone well. You had a bullet graze the side of your head and now you were splayed across the concrete floor with Ghost surrounded by mangled metal.

"Wheres the bleeding?" Ghost checked everywhere.

"My head." You mutter, turning your head to show a dark patch on your mask.

"May I?" Ghost's fingers hooked under your mask as if he was going to rip it off anyway.

You furrow your brows and roll your eyes. "It's not like I have a bloody choice, i'm bleeding to death you tosser."

Ghost grumbles something under his breath before peeling the mask off and placing it beside your head.

You swear you see his eyes widen the teeny tiniest bit. His eyes trail down your face for a split second before setting on your bleeding skull. "Right.." He says with a sigh, his voice hoarse.

"Enjoying the view?" You scoff, wincing when he starts treating your wound.

"You wish." He mumbles, his gaze flickering down to your face and lingering there for a few seconds.

Soap

You and Soap had been dating for 3 years. Not once have you taken your mask off.

He doesn't mind but all he wants is for you to trust him.

Soap allowed to stay off while you were recovering from a near-death experience. His left arm was hanging on by a thread after being abushed in a mission. He survived and is now on drugs so he can handle the pain.

You visited after his deployment to see how he was. He acted like a drunk man when he saw you, probably from the drugs.

"Who the feck are you..?" He slurred, his head lolling to one side. "My girlfriend won't be happy to see this.." He mutters.

You giggle and take a seat beside his bed. "I am your girlfriend, Johnny." You look down at his leg. It's stitched neatly. You grimace for a moment. You can handle all the gore in the world but your boyfriends? Now thats a different story.

You hear his heartbeat monitor pick up. "You wha?" He asks, his voice higher pitched and his brows raised.

"I'm your girlfriend." You slowly place a hand on his face.

"Fucking hell." He mutters, his eyes wide. "Are you sure? I'm abit of a twat." He shuffles, trying to sit up however you place a hand on his chest and push him back down.

"If I wasn't your girlfriend would I do this?" You hesitantly lift your mask up and lean close, kissing his cheek. You do this because he'll probably forget about it but its precious to see his reaction anyway.

"Fuck me sideways." He says under his breath, looking at you with admiration. His eyes stare at your eyes then the little scar on your left eyebrow. Then the burn scar shaped like a cross. Presumably from a branding iron. He then stared at your lips. He licked his then spoke.

"Can you do that again? But on my lips this time."

Gaz

"Listen i'm so sorry.. I don't even know how this happened I swear i'll fix it." Gaz protested. He accidentally ripped your mask while in a sparring match, thankfully you covered your face before anyone else saw.

"Gaz, it's fine." You say a little sarcastically. Sure, you were pissed he had ripped your only mask but he offered to fix it so there wasn't much point in being annoyed with him. "I want it fixed by tomorrow."

"Of course. I promise it'll be fixed." He even pinky swore on it.

After a long 12 hours of being in your room without letting anyone in with fear that they will see you without your mask you hear a knock at the door. "Gaz?"

"I've got your mask. Can I come in." He asks, twisting the door knob.

"Alright.." You mumble and sit up. Watching the door open and Gaz step in, he shuts it behind him and stops dead in his tracks when he sees you.

"Christ." He swallows hard. "You don't really need this mask, do you? It's only a silly balaclava." He waves it around.

"Kyle give it here." You hold your hand out and Gaz sighs, walking up to you and handing it over. He visibly tenses up when your hand brushes against his.

"So does that mean you'll wear it less around me?" He sounds excited, his eyes fixed on your face as you slipped the mask back on.

"Don't get your hopes up, mate. Thanks for fixing it though." You stand up and give him a wink, hitting his shoulder playfully.

König

"Jesus christ how do you wear your hood for so long." You sigh, blowing raspberries through your lips and lifting the bottom of your mask up to let some air through.

It was a heatwave at the base and you were MELTING

"Mine's baggy. More airflow." König stared down at you, his arms folded across his chest. "Why don't you take it off?"

"Fuck off you manky wank-stain." You laugh, shaking your head. "Bloody hell." You whine, the heat irritating you.

"I have a spare hood if you want it, liebe." He offered. "Come." He gestures for you to follow him and you do. He takes you to his room and he rumages through his drawer, tossing you a shirt with two holes in it.

"The bloody hell is this?" You giggle, looking at the massive shirt. "Your a size.. XXL?" You look at the tag.

"Just put the shirt on, selbstgefällig." He rolls his eyes which widen when he sees you take your mask off. It was truly a beautiful sight. Your cheeks pink and flushed from the heat, some strands of hair stick to your forehead. It was all interrupted when you slipped the shirt over your head.

"Schatz.." He mumbles. "Your very pretty, you know. You don't need it." He holds his head low.

"Thank you, König thats very kind of you." You smile under the shirt and adjust it. "Thanks for the hood aswell." You step forward and cup where you think his face is from under the mask. "I'll wear this more often."

You leave the room, leaving König flustered, flabbergasted and head over heels in love.

___

here u go pookies come here and kiss me

[xblackkurox]

The Neighborhood

Warnings: Smut, fem reader, sub!reader x Dom!Toji, dirty talk, p in v, degradation, penetration, fingering, a bit of oral if you squint, slut shaming, big dick toji, you are doing it while Megumi sleeps, Toji is rough, spitting, unprotected sex (use it!), belly bulge, dacryphilia, cum eating, orgasm denial, Toji is a little mean, nipple play, creampie, breeding kink. I think that's it! Please let me know if I missed something!! And OFC: MINORS DON'T INTERACT!!!! This might be full of grammar mistakes since eng is not my first language, sowy :).

ENJOY BABES <3

In which you arrive to a new building to start a new life. Little do you know what type of neighbors await you.

First off, the older and tired single dad Toji, whom you help out with taking care of his kid a couple of times.

You looked around, hands in your hips. Finally, you say to yourself. It’s been a whole afternoon of unpacking and decorating, but your new apartment is officially done. You just arrived to this new building yesterday, first time living alone, actually first time moving out of your parent’s house. 

The apartment was small, you didn’t really care and even if you did, that’s all you could afford at the moment. Looking at the bright side of it, it was quick to decor.

You wiped away a drop of sweat in your forehead, time for a shower. 

Trail of your clothes to the bathroom, you turned on the shower and choose the artist for today. Arctic Monkeys it is. You enter the shower as the music starts blasting. The fresh water cleaning and relaxing you. The feeling is amazing, this is what freedom tastes like?

You are so immersed in yourself, vibing to the music and enjoying the water running down your body, you don’t even realize there is someone knocking at your door until the slams get hard enough.

Fuck, you swear to yourself. Stepping out of the shower, you grab a towel and wrap it down your body. The knocking getting more and more insistent. You stop the song now playing and hurry to the door, still soaking. 

“Going! Damn…” And you open the door. 

Oh…

Tall, black haired, a scar on the corner of his lip. The too small for him shirt wraps his toned arms and chest, God you can even see his abs through it. His gray eyes looking at you, he’s obviously angry, but he still scans your barely covered body up and down. 

“Turn the damn music down.” His deep voice commands. 

“Why should I?” You raise a brow at him, annoyed that he is rudely scolding you for 10 minutes of some music. He ruined your well deserved relaxing shower. 

He clicks his tongue before talking again, he looks like he’s having a hard time trying to control his tone while speaking. It’s actually pretty intimidating, specially because he is built like a wardrobe. 

“Do you even know what time is it?” Before you answer back, he rises his hand slightly and stops you. “Late.” He states. 

His fingers comb his dark hair back, he looks tired. 

“Look, I live next door, I have a kid, and I’m trying to put him to sleep… So just stop being a brat and tone it down, alright?”

He almost sounds desperate. Your lips press together in an empathic and apologetic expression. 

“I’m sorry, didn’t know. It was just for my shower, so anyw…”

“Nice.” And he left to his still open door. Asshole, I should blast my music even louder now, you think to yourself.

You watch him walk and right before he closes the door to his apartment you see a little black haired kid rubbing his eyes. Well, maybe you behave for the little kid. 

A couple of days later, you are eating some Chinese food in your couch when you hear a knock on the door. You stop scrolling down on your Instagram, put the food down on the table and head to the door. 

When you open it, there’s no one… Until you look down. The little’s kid eyes wandering on the floor, you can see a slight blush on his cheeks. Squatting down to match his height, you tilt your head and give him a soft smile. 

“Hello there… Is something wrong?” He seems a little cautious when talking to you. 

“I can’t get inside the house… Dad is not here.”

“Well, do you know your dad’s number? I can call him.” The kid says no with his head. 

“Ummmm… Alright, you can wait with me until he arrives, I’ll leave him a note on the door. Is that okay?” He nods, he hasn’t looked you once in the eyes yet. 

He follows you into the apartment, you grab a post-it a quickly write there: “Your kid locked himself out of the house, he is with me. Atte: Your brat neighbor next door.” 

Once it’s hooked to their door, you come back to your own house. The black haired child is standing awkwardly in your living room. 

You sit in the couch and tap the place by your side. 

“Sit here, we can watch TV.” He climbs beside you. “So, what’s your name?”

“Megumi…” 

He’s so shy. 

“And where’s dad?” Megumi looks directly at you for the first time. 

“Working.”

“And you are alone?” A nod in response. “ Why were you out of the house?”

His cheeks blushing harshly, he looks away once again. He confesses anyway.

“There was a spider, the door closed.” 

You hold in a laugh. “It’s okay, I am scared of spiders too. Now, are you hungry?”

“No, thank you.” He declines politely. He is way more of a gentleman than his dad.

“You sure? I can order some pizza.” His eyes light up as he looks at you. “Pizza it is, then.”

Little by little, Megumi is loosening up a bit. He becomes more chatty while you eat pizza, he evens smile from time to time. You are getting done with dinner when knocks on the door interrupt you. Must be him.

You stand from the floor where you were with Megumi and walk to the door. The handsome man has the post-it in hand, his head peeks inside to check on the kid. 

“He’s safe and sound, don’t worry.” His eyes lock with yours. 

“Thank you…” He seems sincere.

“Wanna come in? He’s just finishing dinner.” His eyes widen while entering the apartment. 

“Dinner? You didn’t have to…”

“I ordered pizza for me and shared, no big deal” You lie. He side eyes you, probably suspecting that’s not true. 

He squats in front of Megumi. “How you doing kid? You’ve been good to the young lady, I suppose?”

Megumi nods, and shakes off the hand his dad places on his little head. Too focused on the TV. I laugh while sitting on the couch. 

“Have a seat, don’t need to rush him.”

He sits beside you, his legs spread and his elbows on each knee. Your breath gets stuck in your throat for a moment, in this distance you can smell his manly scent. His eyes gaze at you. 

“So, what’s your name, doll?” You answer. “Right, thank you again, y/n.”

You can tell by his deep voice how exhausted he is, so the next sentence you pronounce it carefully. 

“Does Megumi stay alone at home often?” He remains silent for a moment, looking at you. Seemed like he was trying to figure out whether you were judging his parenting or not. Finally, he sighed and brushed back his hair. 

“Nah, only when I work in the afternoons, not happens much… I usually work in the mornings and Megumi is at school.” His eyes looking down at his son, he’s finished with the pizza, but he is still enchanted with the movie on the TV.

You're playing with your own fingers in your lap, clearing your throat before speaking again.

“I could take care of him when that happens, I also work in the mornings.”

“Can’t pay for a babysitter.” He cuts you quickly.

“Wasn’t expecting to get paid. Megumi is a sweet kid, I wouldn’t mind taking care of him.”

The kid is sweet, but the dad is hot as hell.

His gray eyes light up slightly, he is looking so deep into you, you fear he could read your thoughts. He then looks at his son again.

“Hey Megu.” The kid turns his head to his dad with an annoyed grin. “Would you like to spend time here when dad’s not home?”

Megumi’s eyes look at you shortly. “Cool.” He simply answers, thumb up. 

You laugh, a bit flattered with the kid’s approval. Toji sighs and gets up from the couch. 

“Thank you doll. I’ll let you know beforehand each time.” The nickname giving you butterflies in your tummy. 

“Sure.”

Toji grabs Megumi and puts him over his shoulder, walking to the door. The kid whines and demands to keep watching TV.

“Megumi be polite with the pretty girl and thank her.” Megumi obeys his father and mumbles a little “thanks” to you with embarrassment. 

And like that, you became Megumi’s occasional babysitter. 

……

You were laying in Toji’s couch, scrolling through your socials waiting for the man to get home. You putted Megumi to bed a while ago now, since it was already late at night. 

You heard the keys on the lock and then the door opening. Toji’s lazy steps took a while to get into the living room. His eyes gazed at you as he took off his jacket. 

“Comfortable there doll?” Were his first words as his gaze scanned your laying body.

“Megumi is in bed already.” You reply, putting away your phone and looking at him. His black bangs falling on his forehead, gray tired eyes.

“I figured.” He sits on the couch beside your feet. 

“How’s work” You sit up on the couch. 

“Good, actually got some news for you. I’ve been promoted at work, so from now on, ill be able to pay for an actual babysitter. You don’t need to do this no more.” 

You clear your throat slightly before talking, don’t want him to notice the disappointment in your voice. 

“Aw, so this is my last time baby sitting Megu?” He nods. “Hope I can still come around to hang out with him sometime.”

“I’m sure he would love that.” Would you? The question gets stuck in your chest. 

“Well…” You say while getting up. “It’s been a pleasure-”

“Come sit on my lap.” He pats his thighs with his big hand. 

“Wait… What?” You’re actually not sure if he said those words or your brain is playing a trick on you. Either way, you go red in your cheeks.

“You’ve heard me, sit on my lap.” Alright, he said that. You stay still. “Know you want it, so don’t make me repeat myself again.” 

His voice sounds demanding and slightly annoyed. Even if you didn't want to, it would be hard to disobey him. Good for you that you wanted. 

With shaky legs, you sit astride on his lap, your hands finding his hard chest for balance. 

Now that you’ve obeyed him, his expression softens considerably. The scar on the corner of his mouth deforming into a mischievous smirk.

“There you go. Now don’t be so shy, I’ve seen how you look at me.” His big hand cups your face, his thumb gently rubbing your hot cheek. “Huh? Where did all your confidence go all of a sudden? Just wanna pay you back for taking care of my kiddo.”

The rough palm of his free hand teasing from your knee up your thigh, finding its way under your sporty shorts. Grabbing your ass cheek with no shame. Your legs tremble on top of him, your lips part as if to moan. 

Toji lets out a mean chuckle before lifting you from your lap and throwing you back on the couch, you gasp as your back touches de cushions. The man wastes no time as he towers you and slides both your shorts and panties off your legs in a smooth motion. 

“Oh? Toji!” Your voice coming out high-pitched. 

“You better keep it quiet, doll face.” He spreads wide open your shaky legs. “Don’t wanna wake up Megumi now, don’t ya?”

Next thing you feel is two of his thick long fingers forcing its way inside of you, stretching you open. “W-wait.” You plead, trying to keep your voice lower this time. 

“For what? You're already soaking wet, darling.” His palm smacks against your clit with each thrust, splashing your juices all over your belly and thighs. 

“Fuuuuck-” A whine leaving your lips as he slides in another finger. 

“Stop complaining, doin this for your own good.” He scissors and stretches you open, his thumb playing and rubbing in circular movements on your swollen button. With his other hand, he pulls your shirt over your bare breasts.

“Of course, not wearing bra, like the little whore you are.” He takes your nipple between his thumb and his index, pinching and pulling from it. You hiss, he’s too harsh. “You thought I was not gonna catch how your nipples always peek through your slutty clothes? Or maybe that’s exactly what ya wanted…” 

He spits in your unattended breast right before spreading his saliva around your boob with his tongue. Your back arches when he teases with his teeth. Your hand covering your mouth, muffling soft moans. 

Your hips start to roll back against his hand, a familiar tension building up in your stomach. By now, you already need to be biting on your fingers, so your pornographic sounds don’t get too loud. That’s when he pulls his thick, calloused fingers out from your pussy. 

“You’re only cumming on my dick.” He sentences. “Now take off that shirt, don’t want it covering your pretty tits.”

As you do so, he also takes off his shirt. Exposing his very much toned torso, tell me about pretty tits. His gaze checking out your naked and spread body as he pulls down his trousers and boxers to his knees. 

“Wait.” Your eyes widen.

You are no scared virgin, but you can’t deny the little sense of anxiety that settles in your chest when you see his size. Now you understand what he meant by that doing this for your own good comment.

“There’s no way that’s going to fit in.” Your voice coming out tremulous. His face turning into an almost cynical expression. 

“Bet it does.” Your legs spread wider by his hands. By this point, it’s not even necessary, he just wants to see your soaking cunt on display for him. “And you're gonna take it with no nagging, got it?”

He doesn't even wait for an answer, a nod, some sort of approval. No, he is already pushing his thick and long cock pass your folds. 

The sting of pain is immediate, making you shed some tears. 

“Fuck Toji! It hurts!” His hand going to your mouth like a slap, except he keeps it there. Covering right under your nose, muffling any sound and pinning your head to the couch. You can taste yourself in the skin of his palm.

“I thought I told you to be quiet.” Threatening and deep voice, it shouldn’t turn you on so much. 

Your eyes shut as he stretches you open and fills you up like you’ve never been before. He is looking down, watching how stuffed you are with his dick, a little bulge poking in your belly. 

He moves, sliding himself out until just his fat tip is in, only to thrust all of him back in. Over and over again. The hand on your mouth, already wet with your tears and drool. 

His jaw is clenched, growling in a predatory way. 

“Don’t be so dramatic doll, from the way your sensitive cunt is throbbing and sucking me in I can tell you like it.”

He sets a fast pace, and finally he stops muzzling you. He chuckles when he sees your expression, watching how he already turned you into a whimpering mess. 

Both his hands going to grip your waist, pushing your body down to meet his brutal ramming. He is gonna leave bruises there. It hurts, but it hurts so good.

“Nnnnnngh- so full-”  Your fingers are grabbing the cushions, holding in for dear life. 

“Fuck- I didn't think you were going to be so tight… Based on how slutty you look.” 

Drops of sweat running down his pectorals to his abs, his skin shiny, just like yours must look too. Your breasts bouncing up and down with the back and forth of his hips. 

Each time, being harder to swallow your own moans, as the pain fades away and the intense pleasure of being full replaces it. 

Toji is fucking you out of your senses, losing consciousness of where you are and, of course, of how loud you are being. 

He pulls out for a second, flipping you on your stomach, his hands pulling your hips up, making your knees bend. Ass up for him. “Bite the damn cushion, since you can’t be fucking quiet.”

At first, you don’t do it, but when he thrusts back in, his pelvis smacking your booty cheeks, you hurry to grab a cushion and stuff your mouth with it. 

You can hear him chuckle meanly behind you, hands massaging and spreading your ass as he keeps charging against you.

The plushie muffling your struggled cries. 

“That’s it… next time we fuckin at your place, gonna make you bounce on my dick and be as loud as you want, alright doll face? Wanna hear those sweet whimpers of yours.” You turn your face to look at him over your shoulder, nodding. You look so fucked up, a stray tear rolling down your blushed cheek. That view only fuels Toji’s lust, he goes harder and reaches deeper. 

One of his hands wrap around your hair and yanks you up, your back pressed against his board chest. His other hand goes to your neck, choking you slightly. Not enough to leave you breathless, but enough to keep your sounds at bay. 

Like this, he reaches too deep, hitting your cervix over and over again. You are getting closer, dangerously quickly. Your eyes roll back, and your hands search something to grip desperately, finding his forearms to dig your nails on. 

“Fuck, keep squeezing me like that and I won’t last long.” You weren’t even doing that on purpose, you weren’t doing anything voluntary right now. Your mind too far gone to have any type of control over your body. 

“Gonna cum inside, you are so sweet to my kid bet you would be a good mama huh? Want me to put a baby in you?” 

You definitely not wanted to be a mother right now, but those words hit something primal within you. You nodded, head falling back in his shoulder. 

“Yeah! Fill me up!” His grip in your throat and waist tighten after your words, the ramming so animalistic pushing you over the edge. 

Your eyes rolling back, toes curling, whole body spasming, mouth wide open letting go hoarse and struggled babbling. 

Toji cums right after, with some final sloppy thrusts. Filling your insides with his seed. 

“Fuck- taking me so good-”

He lets go of you after a moment, causing you to fall to your previous position, back arched and ass lifted, eyes shut while you pant. Toji watches in delight how the mix of his cum and your juices drool out of you. The view enough to make him hard again. 

“You alright there doll face?” His voice was hoarse and sounded out of breath. His hands wrapped around your waist to flip you around. He chuckled at your fucked out expression. 

You bat your wet eyelashes at him, finally coming back to reality, a little nod to his question. 

“Good. Now, how many times you’ve taken care of Megumi?”

You tilt your head, confused by the sudden question and still gasping for air. 

“Like five?” 

With a nod, he crawled back in the couch, lowering in between your thighs. His tongue sticking out and lapping at your sensitive cunt. Recollecting the mix of both your cums. You squirm and hiss, overstimulated.

“Four more and we’ll be even.”

[sawbiter]

gunpowder - katsuki bakugo

cw : angst, hurt/comfort, "villainous" quirks, mental illness, quirk accidents, minor injuries, guilt.

--

“shit-” katsuki can hear you groan and walk to your shared bathroom. he's always been a light sleeper, but especially when he's near you. he claims its a protective instinct; you say its ptsd.

“baby? fuck..” he rubs his eyes to cure the groggy filter of sleep, “what's wrong?”

“nothing! i just- i just got my period!” you speak, quickly and while laughing. a clear sign of panicked lies.

katsuki immediately stands up, he can tell somethings off. as he does so, he looks to your side of the bed and his stomach lurches at the sight.

the comforter has been burned off where his left hand would have lied. actually, everything right there is burned off. down to the mattress, which is black and seared. he's only now noticed the scent of burning and smoke.

he curses loudly, rushing to the bathroom door, which is locked.

“kats, it's fine! i'm fine, don't worry!” you say, desperate to keep him from seeing the damage.

“let me in.” his voice is urgent with panic, “fucking- let me in!” he bangs on the door, terrified that you're dying on the other side; that his villainous quirk has hurt another.

you unlock the door, and he rushes in.

you're seated on the floor. hand-shaped burn marks are on your arm and upper thigh, he sighs with relief at the fact that they most likely won't scar.

he rushes to your side, examining the hand prints which match up with his hands exactly.

you attempt to reassure him, “kats, it was an accident. you had no control, its not your fault. you were sleeping and you had a nightmare. i tried to wake you- it wasn't smart of me. it's not your fault.” you rush out, tears forming at the sigh of his face, which looks absolutely grief-stricken.

“i fucking hurt you,“ katsuki starts, “and you're comforting me.” he looks shocked. he hurt you; the only one he's every really loved.

“kats, it wasn't your fault. it was an accident.”

“fuck- don't tell me that! i fucking burned you!” he yells, before quieting, “fuck.. i'm so sorry. i knew i should've been more careful sleeping with you.”

you glare at him weakly, tears in your eyes, “katsuki bakugou! it is not your fault. we've been sleeping together for years, this is the first incident. please, don't shut me out, don't shut down, over this.”

“i fucking burned you! you should want me away from you!” he yells, lashing out as if it was the most obvious thing. “i don't deserve you, i never did!”

“that's not true!” you yell back, “your quirk saves people everyday! one accident doesn't make you a villain!”

tears have fallen from his eyes by now, a rare sight.

you cup his face with your uninjured arm, “please. don't shut me out.”

he holds your hand in his, keeping it against his cheek.

“obviously i fucking won't. i love you. i'm just.. worried.”

you smile, “you don't need to be worried. you could never hurt me.”

--

i promise the smut is next my lovess

[candycandy00]

The Doll House - A Sukuna x Reader Fanfic Part 1

Covered in scars and left totally numb by your abusive previous owner, you’re considered an “unsellable doll”. That is, until the Doll House takes you in and Sukuna becomes your trainer.

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four

Read Geto’s Part Here!

Read Toji’s Part Here!

Read Nanami’s Part Here!

Read Gojo’s Part Here!

Read Choso’s Part Here!

Note: Please remember that these stories don’t take place at the same time, or even one after the other! Consider each one its own timeline. So if you see Geto and Toji with other dolls, don’t be alarmed lol. I had to do it this way because if I don’t, by the time I get to the last trainer, there won’t be any other trainers left to interact with!

On the outskirts of town, there stands a particular shop called the “Doll House”. Inside its walls you can find a “doll” to match any taste you might have. All your desires will be fulfilled, no matter how depraved. Satisfaction is guaranteed! The dolls are exceptionally high quality, thanks to the skillful trainers who work with them twenty-four hours a day, molding them into perfect toys for your enjoyment.

Each trainer has a specialty that they focus on, and they all take great pride in their work. Their methods differ greatly, their approaches vary, but they all follow one rule: never get attached to a doll. After the training is complete, they hand the dolls over to their new owners, and never see them again. However, just once over the course of their careers, trainers are allowed to pick a doll they’ve personally trained and keep her as their own.

AU! Each trainer will get their own story! This is Sukuna’s. If you’d like to be tagged in future parts, let me know! You must be an adult to be tagged! Any feedback whatsoever is adored! I’m not keeping the same tag list as before, since this part deals with darker themes. I will resume the tag list after Sukuna’s part is finished! So if you want to be tagged in this one, please specify!

Note: Consider these parts AU’s within an AU. So you might see Geto with a different doll from the reader in his part, but just consider this an alternate timeline lol.

Smut. 18+. Fem Reader. BDSM. Erotic Torture. Needles. Reader is covered in scars. Everything that happens between Sukuna and Reader is consensual but there is mention of abuse by a previous owner. Divider by @benkeibear!

“That’s all you’ll give me for her?”

“I think this is a generous offer, all things considered.”

You’re sitting in a plush leather chair in the office of the owner of the Doll House while your father argues with her about pricing. It’s been going on for thirty minutes now, your father growing more agitated while the owner remains calm and firm. 

“Sir,” the owner begins, leaning forward slightly over her desk, “there are two major issues with your daughter. For one, she has a previous owner. Most of our clients consider that a deal breaker.”

“She was just with that guy a little over a year!” your father retorts, his face slightly red. 

“I’m aware of that. But that leads us to the other issue.”  The owner pauses and glances at you. “Your daughter’s scars are quite prominent. They’re very hard to ignore.”

There’s a hint of an apology in her eyes. It’s unnecessary. You know better than anyone that you’re disfigured. Scars of various types and sizes cover over half your body, including a sizable portion of your face. 

Your father is sweating. “I‘ve heard some clients have weird  tastes, that they actually want… people like her.”

The owner leans back in her chair. “It is true that we sometimes get unusual requests. But it doesn’t happen often. She would have to be given highly specialized training, to emphasize that unique aspect.”

Your father’s face lights up. “Then do that!”

The owner looks from him to you, then says, “I need to speak to her privately before finalizing the purchase.”

“What? Why?” your father asks. 

“It’s a routine part of the interview, I assure you,” the owner replies smoothly. 

Your father hesitates, but then stands up from his seat. He gives you a stern look, a warning look, and then he’s out the door. 

The owner’s face seems to soften slightly. “How do you feel about this?” 

You shrug. “I don’t feel anything. I haven’t in a long time.”

The owner looks at a laptop sitting open on her desk. “Let’s go over a few things in your file first. It says here you were sold on the direct market on your eighteenth birthday. Is that correct?”

“Yes.”

“You were with your previous owner for sixteen months before being removed, during which time he breached the contract by doing permanent harm. Hence the scars.”

“Yes,” you answer again. 

“And I see that your father sued your previous owner, collecting quite the hefty sum for your suffering.”

You nod. 

The owner closes the laptop and looks at you again. “And I’m guessing your father already blew through that money, despite only two years passing. So he’s selling you again. How many other doll shops has he taken you to so far?”

“Three.”

“Any offers?”

“None,” you say, eyes lowering toward the floor. 

The owner sighs. “If I don’t take you, he’s going to sell you on the direct market again, isn’t he?”

“He already tried,” you tell her, “but he said the offers were too low. If no shop will take me, he’ll probably go back and take a low offer.”

The owner grimaces. “He’s a real sick fuck, your father.”

“I know.”

“Do you want me to take you on?”

You think for a moment, then say, “It doesn’t matter. I can’t feel anything anyway.”

“When you say that,” the owner says, “do you mean physically or emotionally?”

“Both. I’ve been numb for nearly three years now.”

The owner picks up a silk fan from her desk and lightly taps her chin with it as she regards you. After a few moments, she says, “Alright. I’ll take you. I’ll make a slightly higher offer to your father, one he would be foolish to refuse. And in light of your unique circumstances, I’m going to add two extra clauses to your contract. The first is that you will have the option to change trainers if the one I assign to you is too much for you.”

You nod. “And the second?”

“All dolls sold through the Doll House are allowed to come back within one week of being purchased by a client, if they provide sufficient reasoning. In your case, I’m extending that to two weeks, and you don’t have to provide a reason. I’ll take you back, no questions asked, if you feel like your owner isn’t right for you. However, I would advise you not to abuse this privilege.”

“I understand.”

“Alright then. Let’s get your father back in here and finalize the sale.”

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

Sukuna grins when he sees the message on his phone: “I have a new doll for you to train.”

He’s at home, in his swanky, upscale apartment in the city. Though he enjoys his alone time, he very much enjoys his work at the Doll House as well. Unlike the other trainers, Sukuna doesn’t keep a near constant flow of new dolls. He understands why of course. His training produces a very specific sort of doll that only a specific sort of client wants. But he trains enough dolls to keep himself well paid, and the work is incredibly satisfying. 

The standard training time is six weeks, which is exactly the right amount of time for Sukuna to thoroughly enjoy each doll without getting too bored with them before they’re handed over to their owners. He can’t imagine why anyone would want to keep the same doll for ten whole years. He knows he’s not alone in this thought, which is why doll rental services have been growing in popularity lately. 

He packs a few things into a small duffel bag. He keeps plenty of clothes and personal items in his room at the Doll House, so he only has to pack lightly for the six week stay. He’s in a good mood as he turns off the lights and locks the door. 

When  he arrives at the Doll House, he finds a rather interesting young woman sitting in the welcome room. Interesting because half her pretty face is covered in scars, as well as what’s visible of her left arm. Just how far do they extend? He’s looking forward to finding out. 

She glances up at him, but gives no reaction. Strange. Most new dolls look terrified, or at least nervous, when they see him for the first time. It’s probably the tattoos that frighten them. Sukuna is well aware that they make him look like a Yakuza member, or some criminal from a past era. But he so enjoys the way people instinctively shrink back away from them. 

The owner meets him in the welcome room and ushers him into her office. All trainers are briefed on their new dolls, except in unusual circumstances. But the owner looks troubled today, meaning this doll has a story. But he supposes the scars made that obvious already. 

Sitting in a chair across the desk from the owner, Sukuna places one elbow on the cushioned arm and props his face up with his hand. “So? What’s the deal with little Miss gloomy out there?”

The owner is tapping keys on her laptop, then he hears his phone chime from his pocket. “I’ve sent you her file. You really need to read over it. She has a complicated history.”

“Give me the short version,” he says, making a mental note to at least skim the file later. 

“Previous owner who abused and tortured her, shitty father who’s sold her twice now, and… she can’t feel anything.”

That last part captures Sukuna’s attention. “What does that mean?”

“She’s completely numb, both physically and emotionally. I’ve read over her medical reports, and they’ve concluded that there’s no significant nerve damage. The scar tissue dulls her senses in those areas somewhat, but they don’t leave her totally numb like this. And she can’t feel anything in the unscarred areas either.”

“Meaning it’s psychological,” Sukuna says. 

The owner nods. “It’s clearly a defense mechanism. Her body and mind simply shut off all sensation in order to cope. And that’s going to be her biggest issue as a doll. There are plenty of buyers who would find the scars exotic, but a doll who doesn’t react to anything? No one wants that. And if we don’t eventually find a buyer for her, she’s going to get passed around from one scumbag to another on the direct market for the rest of her life.”

Sukuna had little interest in the doll’s sob story, but he was intrigued by the fact that she couldn’t feel anything. “So you want me to fix her? Make her feel again?”

“Yes. I figured if anyone could, it would be you. But be careful. She’s already been shattered. I don’t need you grinding up the pieces.”

Sukuna stands up and heads for the door. “Don’t worry. I’ll reforge her,” he says with a smile, “in a way that pleases me.”

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

The man covered in strange black tattoos introduces himself as your trainer. He’s handsome, well-built, and dressed like a man far too rich to be working here. A few years ago, you might have been attracted to him. Your heart might have fluttered at the thought of him touching you. But now? Now you feel nothing as he tells you to follow him to his room. 

He opens the door and walks in first, turning on the lights as he goes. You follow behind him and look around. The room looks like someone converted a fancy hotel room into a dungeon. 

The deep red carpets and expensive looking furniture contrast with the various… devices around the room. There’s an X shaped table, harnesses and chains hanging from the ceiling, and a wall of leashes, whips, rods, and other such items along the left side of the room. 

Ah, so he’s this type. 

You’re not surprised. Actually, it makes sense. Give the girl who can’t feel pain to the trainer who tortures his dolls. 

The man, who said his name is Sukuna, is watching your face, looking for a reaction. He won’t find one. But instead of seeming disappointed, he’s grinning. 

“My specialty is probably obvious,” he says, to which you nod. Then he goes over to the wall of tools and toys, taking something small and shiny from it. When he returns, there’s a silver, claw-like item on his right index finger. Without a word of warning, he approaches you and quickly swipes the claw over your exposed right forearm. 

You look down, curious, to see a thin red line appear on your skin, small drops of blood beading along it before sliding down. You watch the blood with no expression for a moment before looking back up at Sukuna. 

His grin is wider than before. “You really didn’t feel that,” he says, not a question but a statement. He’s standing in front of you, staring at you, when he says, “Let me ask you something, and think hard about your answer. It’s going to determine how the training proceeds.”

You nod. 

“Do you prefer being this way to how you were before?”

You blink as the question settles into your mind. You’ve never really thought about it before, but do you prefer being numb? It’s helped you block out the hurt you felt upon being sold off by your father, being abused by your owner, but it also blocks out any joy. 

“I… I don’t know.”

He’s looming over you, looking down with an expression you can’t quite place. Is it desire? Pity? Disgust? Or have you lost the ability to distinguish them? 

“Do you want to feel again?” he asks, something about his deep tone telling you to answer honestly. The sheer intensity of his presence is overwhelming you. 

You can still remember when you felt things. You can remember a poor but happy childhood when your mother was still alive. Even after, when things got worse, there were still moments of happiness. Watching movies with a friend, eating cheap snacks from the convenience store down the street. A kiss from the boy you had a crush on in high school. You miss these feelings. And once you realize that, your answer is clear. 

“Yes, I want to feel again.”

“Even if what you feel is pain?” he asks. 

An emotion you haven’t felt in years bubbles to the surface, startling you so much that your voice cracks slightly as you reply, “Yes! I’d love to feel pain again. I’d love to feel anything!”

A smile spreads across his features, and his hands move to your shirt. “I’ll make you feel again,” he says as he pulls your shirt over your head and tosses it aside. “But it will only work if you want it.”

“I… I want it,” you say, realizing with some measure of shock that you’re already feeling emotions you thought long dead. 

He removes the rest of your clothes, leaving them strewn about the floor. Then he stands back to look at you. Completely bare before him, you don’t feel embarrassed. Shame is yet another emotion you can’t seem to feel anymore. But there is a strange prickling sensation on your skin as his eyes rake over you, taking in the scars that form a map of your suffering. 

“It’s like a work of art,” he says, his gaze lingering on the left side of your torso. The words make you feel something else, but you’re not sure what that is. Your own emotions have become unfamiliar to you. 

He leads you over to the X shaped table and lifts you onto it, then spreads you out on it like a meal. He slowly attaches the leather cuffs on each end to your ankles and wrists, still watching your face for any sign of fear. 

There is none. You’re starting to feel things for the first time in three years, but fear isn’t one of them. If he can bring back the girl you once were, one who could laugh and smile and feel, then you’ll accept anything he wants to do to you. 

Once you’re secured to the table, he stands back and unbuttons his shirt. When he slips it off his shoulders, you get a full view of the intricate tattoos on his body. They’re beautiful, the way they move and twist with his body’s motion. 

He steps back to the table and runs one large hand over your arm, trailing it down toward your chest, where he squeezes your scarred breast. You can’t feel it, so you don’t know if he’s squeezing hard or not, but when his fingers lightly slide over your nipple, a tingling sensation blossoms there. What was that? 

Did he notice that you felt something? You don’t think you visibly reacted in any way, but he’s smiling as if he knows. His fingers suddenly pinch your nipple, and you feel pressure, but little else. He maintains eye contact as he leans down and runs his tongue over that same nipple, then wraps his lips around it. You feel it again, that pleasant tingling. It reminds you of something, but you can’t remember what. 

His hand moves to your other breast, where his fingers grope and pinch. You feel this a little more, and your breathing quickens slightly. That’s when he stops abruptly and goes over to the wall again. This time he returns with a rolled up velvet pouch, which he unrolls to reveal a group of very long, very thin, shiny silver needles. 

He pulls one out and holds it up for you to see. “Let’s see how numb you really are,” he says. Then he grips your scarred nipple between his finger and thumb with one hand while using the other to bring the needle closer. He looks up at your face, perhaps still searching for a trace of fear. Finding none, he pushes the needle in, sliding it sideways through your flesh. 

Your breath hitches as a new sensation hits you. This… this is pain! You haven’t felt it in so long, you’d almost forgotten it. When he grips the other nipple, the one with no scar tissue to dull your senses, you almost flinch. He grins up at you, as if he’s reading your mind. He leans down and licks the nipple slowly, awakening it to sensation, before plunging the needle in. 

This time you gasp, your arms reflexively tugging on the restraints. You felt that! Not as keenly as a normal woman would, but far more than you’ve felt anything else in years. It hurt. It still hurts as his hand squeezes your breast, his tongue running over the needle imbedded in your skin. But you welcome the pain. It’s far more preferable to no feeling whatsoever. 

Then he steps back again, and walks around the table to the bottom, where he moves in between your widely spread legs. His hand moves to your pussy, kneading it gently for a moment before his fingers slip inside your folds, finding you clit. 

You draw in a sharp breath as he strokes it, feeling the pleasure so strongly that it’s almost as if you were never numb. Your previous owner had ignored your clit, having no interest in giving you pleasure, so these sensations were entirely new to you. 

When Sukuna uses his fingers to spread you open and leans forward to lick your quivering clit, your body nearly jerks off the table. He rises up and looks at you. “Not so numb down here, are you?”

You can only gasp out shallow breaths.  

His thumb begins stroking you again as he speaks. “I don’t care who your previous owner was.” He reaches over and pulls one more needle from the pouch, his tongue running over you again, making your nerves come alive. “I don’t care if you’ve had a thousand different owners before me.” His thumb and finger pinch your clit, holding it in position. Your heart races as you wait, now holding your breath. “Because now,” he says, gliding his tongue across the glimmering needle in his hand, “you belong to me.”

He pushes the needle into your clit from the bottom and out the top, so slowly that you feel every single bit of it. Your body bucks from the table, your arms and legs jerk against the cuffs, and a loud scream erupts from your mouth as you feel excruciating pain for the first time in three years. 

It’s wonderful. 

Tears spring to your eyes, and you cum on the spot, weeping and shuddering. You were certain you would never experience an orgasm again for the rest of your life, but here you were, riding out the insane pleasure while Sukuna’s tongue prodded your clit, licking over the needle stuck there. 

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

Sukuna watches his doll as she sleeps peacefully in his bed. She passed out not long after the “training session” was over, just as he was unfastening the cuffs on her wrists. He carried her to his bed and laid her there, and now he’s looking over her scarred form once more before covering her. 

He’s surprised by the progress they’d already made, but he can’t get too comfortable. 

Because he noticed it. When he pulled the needles out of her, which should have hurt, she didn’t even flinch. He’d squeezed one nipple afterwards, before beginning to uncuff her, just to test it. This should have made her scream, given how sore she should be, but she had no reaction at all. 

Meaning she’s numb again. The awakening of her senses was only temporary, and wore off after she came down from the high of her orgasm. 

Sukuna smiles. He certainly enjoys a challenge, and it’s clear to him that his job is far from over. 

Tag List:

@akaotv 

[wkemeup]

The Bet

summary: The agents at SHIELD have not taken well to Bucky’s pardon. When he’s injured on a mission under suspicious circumstances, you take matters into your own hands.  

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

word count: 7.7k

warnings: canon level violence, bucky’s internalized self-punishing issues, shield agents being real pieces of shit, badass reader who would defend bucky to the death

a/n: I know I’ve been really inactive lately (life’s actually been going well so I’ve been busier but that leaves me less time to write unfortunately), but I’m still lurking here! This is a fic I wrote several months ago but finally got around to editing it. Hope you enjoy!

Bucky wasn’t sure how you managed it – the punch to his gut every time you walked in the room. You were dressed in your tactical suit; black fabric draped over every inch of your body, protective layers of Kevlar and technology beyond Bucky’s years, a weapon strapped to your thigh and knives hidden in your belt and at your ankle. Your hair was tugged out of place, sweat beaded on your temple from the sparring match in the gym moments before the two of you were called to service. In your right hand, you carried your combat boots, the laces hanging low enough to touch the ground.  

And still, Bucky held his breath as you approached. Stomach in knots, chest tightening until his heart threatened to stop entirely.

“My offer is fifty this time,” you announced, winking in his direction before you turned to head for the landing bay. “Take it or leave it, Barnes.”

It was a game you’d been playing since your first mission together. A running bet to determine the better combat fighter. You’d insisted on measuring it not by the number of Hydra agents taken down or the bullets left in the magazine at the end of the mission, but by who walked away with the least damage on their body. A competition in the lack of scars.  

He suspected it was your effort to distract him, to center his mind on something other than the crushing weight on his chest as he stepped into yet another Hydra stronghold. With his pardon only coming through the official channels three months prior and the nightly news still debating whether he should be locked in a psychiatric hospital or executed for his crimes, Bucky didn’t mind a little distraction.  

He wasn’t sure what to make of you at first – this woman who cared so little for the eggshells scattered around his wake. Thin, broken pieces shattered under your steps, sharp edges digging into the soles of your feet and you did not flinch. You never hesitated in your teasing, never withdrew a cautious touch from the hardened steel of his left arm, never treated him as though he were fragile or unhinged. Instead, you placed bets on the outcomes of your shared missions as if his lethality was something to respect, to admire.  

Part of him wondered whether it was your attempt to keep him unharmed. The winner would have the least number of cuts and bruises – the least physical pain endured. Bucky had no problem using his body as the weapon it was designed to be, even if it meant being reckless in his own skin. It was what he’d been trained to do for decades; constantly reminded that his body was not his own to command, not his own to protect and shield. The mission came first. The mission always came first. Above his safety. Above his comfort. Above his sanity. Hydra cared little for how damaged he walked away from a fight as long as he did as he was ordered. But not you.  

No, you never could seem to hide the subtle twitch of relief as he won bet after bet. How your shoulders seemed to lose the tension aching in your muscles as you handed over the winnings he did not want. Because it meant you’d lost – that you’d been injured more than he had – and Bucky wanted no part in celebrating such a win.  

“I don’t want your money, Y/n,” Bucky said as he did before each mission. He fell in line beside you as rookies parted down the hallway with each approaching step. Most kept their head down, eyes averted. But not all. Some openly stared at him as if they might bore holes into his tactical suit. 

“Who says I’m paying you shit?” you scoffed, a smirk edging at the corner of your mouth. “Fifty, Barnes. You on or what?”

Bucky chuckled. “Yeah, fine. I’m in.”

You walked with a slight bounce in your step after he agreed and Bucky could not stop the smile as it tugged on his cheeks.  

By the time you reached the quinjet, the team of agents was huddled in the loading dock awaiting orders. Steve stood with a hand leaning against the pilot’s chair, the other hooked on the font of his belt. The rest of the team – a group of highly trained SHIELD agents dressed in full combat gear tensed as Bucky followed you onto the jet.  

“Thanks for joining us,” Steve welcomed sarcastically though there was humor in his grin. You rolled your eyes and held up your unlaced boots as if that would be answer enough that you were caught off guard for the unplanned mission.  

“Not all of us wait eagerly outside Fury’s door for scraps of adrenaline,” you teased and tossed a wink over your shoulder at Bucky.  

Steve bit his tongue to hold back a laugh. He turned to one of the agents lingering by the cockpit. “Get us in the air.”  

“Yes, sir,” the agent responded and quickly jumped into the pilot’s seat.  

Steve made his way to the table at the center of the jet where the building’s schematics were illuminated in three dimensional holographic lasers. Bucky exhaled a heavy breath as he followed, studying the lights as they detailed every inch of the building he would infiltrate in a matter of a few hours. He kept his right hand down by his side in an effort to not reach out and touch the floating blueprints.

“Y/n will lead Team B through the back entrance and up to the second floor,” Steve explained as he widened the schematics with a single swipe of his hand. The floor print zoomed into the level he was describing.

“Meanwhile, I’ll lead Team A through the main floor,” he continued and adjusted the visual to display the path he intended to take. “We’ll come in hot through the primary entrance. Draw as much attention as we can. That’ll give Bucky the time he needs to track down the Berlin files.”

Bucky swallowed as many of the agents turned to look at him. Steve had briefed him ahead of time on the mission so he knew he would be taking this one on his own. He knew the building better than anyone else, better than anyone who had studied the blueprints. He knew Hydra better than anyone else. Whether he was stored in this particular site was irrelevant. He understood how Hydra operated, enough to determine where they’d keep the sort of information that could bring the organization to its knees. It made the most sense.  

Clinical. Rational.  

“He’s going alone?” you questioned, your voice quieter than Bucky was expecting. Your focus was solely on Steve, brows knotted at the center. There was a soft waver of concern in your tone he was sure did not go unnoticed by the rest of the team. You’d seen Bucky’s right-hand curl to an aching fist enough times at the mention of his former captors. You knew the wounds were still fresh, the ink on his pardon barely dried.  

Steve nodded reluctantly. “We’re going to make a lot of noise, but don’t mistake me. This is a stealth op. Giving Bucky a team is only going to slow him down.”

“You could at least give him back up,” you argued, the gentle hesitancy dropped from your tone. Your hands planted firmly on your hips. Tension coated thick into the room.  

Bucky was about to step in, to put a careful hand on your shoulder and tell you he could handle himself just fine, that there was nothing to worry about. Maybe he’d crack a joke. Maybe then he could brush off your concerns and the knots in his stomach as simple worry for a reliable partner. But one of the senior agents – Hanning – cleared his throat first.  

“She’s right, Cap,” Hanning said. “It’s not a good idea to send him in alone.”

You exhaled a sigh of relief, looking to Steve with a challenging smirk, but Bucky knew Hanning’s words for what they were. His stomach bottomed as he started to reach for you, to pull you back from the room before you could hear the rest of what Hanning was surely about to say. Bucky could read it on each of the agents’ faces – how they all looked down their noses at him, how thier gazes flickered to the reflection of his left arm in disgust, how they tensed the moment he stepped on board the jet. Humiliation burned hot in his cheeks before Hanning even uttered another word.  

“See!” you hit Steve lightly on the arm. You grinned back in Bucky’s direction and did not see the dread weighing in his eyes. “Just give him two guys. Just enough to make sure he’s—”

“—watched. We all know the Winter Soldier can’t be trusted alone in a Hydra facility.”  

You stilled at Hanning’s words. Bucky watched the edge of your jaw flicker as you clenched the muscle, your hands gripping tight to the edge of the table. Bucky wondered if it might splinter under your hold.  

“Excuse me?” Venom dripped from your tongue on every syllable.  

“You said it yourself,” Hanning replied with a short shrug of his shoulders, as if you had simply misheard him. “The Winter Soldier shouldn’t be left on his own. No telling what he’d do unsupervised. Especially around his old buddies.”

You flinched – actually flinched.  

To Bucky, this wasn’t anything new. The serum has cursed him with heightened senses strong enough to overhear the quiet whispering when he entered the gym, the nervous murmuring of rookie agents who had grown up on ghost stories of his most prolific crimes. He noticed every frantic skip of a frightened heartbeat and every cold, seething glare of an agent whose loathing outweighed that of his fear. There was little room for anything else amongst the agents within SHEILD.  

You – and only a few others among the Avengers – were the exception.  

His pardon was conditional. He couldn’t afford the kind of trouble these agents were egging him into. One step out of line and he’d find himself with a lifetime sentence on the raft. Maybe that was what he deserved, but he couldn’t risk retaliating against the agents, couldn’t so much as chance a bitter word thrown back in their faces. He wasn’t sure if he was ready to admit that it was only in fear of not seeing you again that held his tongue.  

Bucky had grown numb to the taunts and the stares long before he stepped foot in the tower. He knew how to keep his head down, how to swallow back his pride at the expense of his dignity. He learned how to endure the humiliation, the shame. Hydra had taught him well.  

You, however, did not tolerate it.  

“He can’t be trusted, Cap,” Hanning went on, turning to meet Steve’s warning stare. “We’ve lost too many guys to his friends at Hydra. I don’t care what papers the President signed. You can’t let the Winter Soldier—”

“Stop calling him that,” you hissed, pounding a fist against the table. The holographic blueprints flared in response. “I said Bucky should have support in the field. Not a fucking parole officer!”

Hanning rolled his eyes; a dangerous choice to make to mock a superior agent in front of her own team. Steam billowed from your ears as several of the agents behind him began to laugh. Hanning wiped his thumb over his bottom lip, his gaze slipping down the length of your body as if to size you up, but he lingered too long. A power move, Bucky deciphered. A means to belittle you. Bucky gritted his teeth.  

“He’s a war criminal,” Hanning challenged, ignoring Bucky’s calculated step in your direction.  

“He was a prisoner of war!” you shot back, voice raising on every word. “Who was pardoned, by the way!”

“You think that changes anything? A piece of paper doesn’t erase the shit he’s done. Doesn’t bring back any of the SHIELD agents he murdered. Doesn’t make him any less of fuckin’ monster and we shouldn’t have to put up with his—”

“Enough!” Steve ordered, slamming a hand down on the table. The blueprints flickered out until the table powered down. “Hanning, get your men in order. I don’t want to hear another goddamn word out of you until we’re back in New York. Y/n, walk it off. We land in an hour.”

Betrayal seethed in your eyes as your gaze whipped to Steve. You expected him to defend Bucky as fiercely as you did, but Bucky knew better, as did Steve. Steve’s involvement would only worsen the division between Bucky and the rest of the team. They’d turn themselves into martyrs; jump on their high horse and twist Steve’s defense to align with what they already believed – that the Winter Soldier was dangerous, untrustworthy, and corrupted everything he touched. Including the Avengers and SHIELD itself.  

And maybe they were right, but it wasn’t a fight you had to be a part of. He worked very hard to ensure you knew little of it at all.  

You clamped your jaw shut to keep yourself from handing Captain America his ass next and quickly turned on your heels. Your hand slid around Bucky’s wrist and without much resistance, you dragged him along with you to the other side of the jet. There, you sank against the bench along the frame of the cargo hold and began sliding your hands along your thighs. As he watched you, Bucky wondered if you might tear the fabric of your suit with how intensely you were digging your palms into the muscle.  

“Hanning’s an asshole,” you grumbled. “Don’t listen to him. He doesn’t know shit.”

You spoke as if you believed it was an isolated incident – a single, rare occurrence he should brush off his shoulders – and perhaps you did. Perhaps you truly believed that no agent would be as brazen as to mock the former Winter Soldier to his face, but you would be wrong. Their confidence grew each time he kept his head down, each time he swallowed back the rage and humiliation at their taunts.  

Bucky sighed, sinking down on the bench beside you. Your hands were still raking against your thighs, your pointed glare still finding its way to the agents huddled on the opposite end of the jet. He figured if he didn’t say something soon, you might lose the battle for your better judgements and take a swing at Hanning before the jet so much as crossed Hydra airspace.  

“Make it a hundred.”

You furrowed your brow, your gaze shifting to him. Already, your features began to soften. Your hands stilled against your knees. “What?”

“The bet,” Bucky clarified, forcing a smile. It didn’t touch his eyes and it ached, but it was all he could muster. “Make it a hundred this time.”

A smirk slowly lifted the corners of your mouth and Bucky felt a weight slip off his chest.  

“You’re on.”

***

“Do you want know what I’m going to do with your money when I win?”

Bucky dug his teeth into his bottom lip to repress a determined smile as your labored voice crackled through his coms. He could hear the static of the radio waves and the frequent draw of your breath as you led your team in combat on the second level. You’d learned early on to switch your coms to an off-channel frequency while you were separated. Steve was the only one who was aware of the isolated channel, but he knew better than to listen in unannounced.  

“Huh, Barnes?” you challenged. He could practically see your smile edging up your cheeks. “Should I tell you how I’m going to spend your hard-earned cash?”

“You do remember you’re the one engaged in combat right now and I’m on an abandoned floor alone, right? Do you hear those odds?” Bucky smirked to himself, imagining the hard roll of your eyes as you scoffed into the coms.  

“You’re not as stealthy as you think, Barnes. Maybe you’ll stub your toe on a desk. Don’t underestimate my skill against these... amateurs,” you spat the last word as if to make a point to the man you were currently barreling a fist into. “Now let me tell you how I’m going to waste your money.”

“Go on,” Bucky chuckled. He stalked through the empty hallway, passing by old offices and labs as he scanned in search of the vault in question. Hydra was rather predictable that way.  

“Well,” you exhaled and clearly threw a punch at your opponent by the grunt that followed, “Sam’s birthday is coming up."

Bucky froze in his tracks; any trace of a grin wiped from his features. “You wouldn’t dare.”

Your laugh echoed in his ears and damn, if it wasn’t the sweetest sound he’d ever heard – took him right out of the Hydra facility he wandered through, out of the memories attached to the lifeless, concrete rooms, and brought levity back to his chest. How you managed to do that while fighting your way through a hoard of Hydra agents was beyond him.  

He turned into a promising office at the end of the hallway. Lavish enough to be one of the higher officer’s, with priceless stolen art on the walls and a desk chair that resembled a small throne. He rolled his eyes.  

“Six ahead! Erikson, McKinley! Go now!” You shot an order at one of your men before returning focus back to your side conversation with Bucky. He smiled at the sharpness of your tone – the authority, the respect you commanded. Just as easily, your tone shifted to the gentle teasing reserved only for him. “Maybe I’ll replace the side camera on Redwing you shattered in Guatamala last month.”

Bucky groaned and drew out your name in a long, exasperated tone as he began fumbling through a pile of stray papers on the messy desk.  You started to laugh again and Bucky couldn’t help the smile that tugged at the ends of his mouth. It was damn near infectious.  

“Fine, fine.” Your voice was breathless; either from the fight or the laughter, Bucky wasn’t sure. “I might venture a trip out to Coney Island. I hear they have life changing soft serve.”

Bucky chuckled just as he tore open a locked drawer, shifting through the contents. “You’d have a hell of a lot of cash left over.”

“Well let’s see,” you began, a short pause followed as you knocked out another combatant. Bucky could hear the thud of the body at your feet. “Two tickets on the train, two world-renown ice cream cones. It adds up, Barnes.”

Bucky furrowed his brow. A sudden unwelcomed pit formed in his stomach as he straightened his back, his hands slipping from their task at the desk. He swallowed, though his throat was dry.  

“Two? Who would you—”

“Are you really telling me you don’t want to show me around your old stomping grounds?” you teased, as if he should have assumed you’d only ever been talking about him. “I can be generous with your money, Buck. I’ll even treat you to a funnel cake if you want.”

Butterflies swarmed in his stomach, his teeth gnawing at his lips to suppress the grin and the flush in his cheeks. He didn’t dare look up at the Hydra symbol painted on the wall ahead of him, but he wondered then if the memory of it might have any effect at all in the wake of your laughter through the coms.

“That so?” he managed to reply, trying to find a piece of himself from the forties that could talk to a woman without stumbling over his words. His heart was pounding. Thundering. His hands gripped the edge of the desk in effort to stop the shaking of adrenaline, but it was such a lovely feeling.  

“I might even win you a stuffed animal.”  

Bucky exhaled as if it might relieve the pleasant aching in his cheeks. “Those games are rigged, you know.”

“I have my tricks.”

A throat cleared at the doorway.  

Bucky jolted, his hand on the trigger and safety unlatched before he got a good look at the face of the man watching him from the hallway. His smile fell as he froze – the sound of your voice calling to him through the coms went unanswered. You must have heard the sudden hitch in his breath, noticed just by the short gasp of air that something was wrong.  

Hanning didn’t so much as flinch as he stared down the barrel of Bucky’s gun. His arms were folded over his chest, his shoulder leaning against the doorframe. Bucky didn’t dare wonder how long he’d been there watching. He was losing his edge. Distracted in the one place he was supposed to be clinical above all else.  

Slowly, Bucky lowered the gun and latched the safety. Hanning cracked his neck to the side as six of his men emerged from the hall behind him. Bucky gritted his teeth and raised a hand to his coms.  

“I’m going dark.”

No time at all passed before you argued, “don’t you dare! Not while you’re out there alone.”

Bucky kept clear watch of Hanning and the six agents slowly making their way into the room, knuckles cracking against their hips, stretching their arms. A quiet anger simmered under the surface – boiling in his veins though no steam would release him from the rage it carried.  

“I found the vault,” he said, the lie slipping too easily off his tongue. “It’s heavily armored. It’ll cause interference. I’ll meet you on the jet.”

He didn’t like the short clinical statements he was giving you, as if you were little more than a handler requesting report. It wasn’t like him and you knew it.  

“No. Tell me where you are. I’ll come to you.” Desperation clouded into your voice.  

“I said I’ll meet you on the jet,” he replied sharply; harsher than he ever intended to be with you, but Hanning’s patience was wearing thin and Bucky would not stomach you being able to hear what was about to happen.  

“Okay.” You were quieter now, your breaths more labored. Bucky’s stomach wrung in knots. “Just be careful.”

He turned off the coms before regret could sink in.  

“No more Avenger in your ear now, huh?” Hanning jeered, a cockeyed smirk hanging on the left edge of his mouth. He shook his head, a darkness sinking into his features when Bucky refused to answer. “Christ. She’s just as pathetic as the groupie sluts camping outside the tower.”

“Leave her out of this,” Bucky growled. He knew full well of the crowd who chanted his name, holding picket signs in support of an innocence he wasn’t sure belonged to him. Bucky wasn’t convinced they knew much of anything about his crimes. He often wondered if they would still draw hearts around his name if they knew the volume of blood on his hands.  

Hanning scoffed. “She used to be a damn good agent before you started fucking with her head, you know that? Maybe if I take her to bed next, she’ll start defending my honor, too.”

The desk cracked under Bucky’s grip; splintered under his palms. It didn’t matter that he’d never touched you in that way. Didn’t matter that he hadn’t so much as whispered a breath to the torch he carried for you. But reputation and rumor weighed stronger than truth. And Hanning didn’t seem to mind which served him best.

“We both know why you’re here, Hanning,” Bucky said, his voice taunt in the effort. “Stop beating around the bush.”

A vicious smirk warped Hanning’s features as he signaled to his men. Bucky steeled himself – an agonizing, familiar feeling – and he waited for the first blow to land.  

***

Bucky took his time returning to the jet. He didn’t bother turning his coms back on after he begrudgingly tore open the vault door at the back of the office and obtained the files SHIELD was after. He wasn’t sure if he was ready to stomach the onset of questions you’d throw his way, the inevitable concern in your voice, or the lies that would slip too easily from his tongue.  

You and Steve would have already returned to the quinjet by now and he was certain you were wearing a tread into the floor of the debrief room. If he closed his eyes, he might have been able to picture your arms folded tightly across your chest, the scowl creating lines down your forehead, and the hushed grumble as you muttered under your breath, eyes constantly darting back to the door in search of him.

Bucky took no pleasure in his lies. He did not enjoy the slight hitch of concern in your voice as you begged him to stay on coms. No— it tore into his chest in such a way he was left wondering if there would be anything left at all if he continued this way.  

But you couldn’t know.  

You couldn’t know the truth of how far men like Hanning would go to appease their fragile egos. How agents of an organization you dedicated your life to abused their power and a loophole in the system to ensure they could pull one over on the Winter Soldier in favor of bragging rights and a misguided sense of justice. You couldn’t know it wasn’t Hydra that left him bruised and battered after these missions, but instead the agents under your watch.  

Bucky paused as he came up on the ramp to the back of the jet. In the vague reflection of the charcoal surface was a trail of welts and bruising covering most of his face. Red had seeped into the white of his left eye. The center of his bottom lip was split open; blood dripped down his chin and left stray droplets against the chest of his jacket. He quickly brushed his wrist against his mouth, smearing the blood onto his hand instead and made his way inside.  

Hanning was standing at the edge of the debrief room as his team passed behind him. He raised his hand to you in what appeared to be a mocking salute. You did not react; your arms folded over your chest just as Bucky had imagined and an irritable glare compressed most of your features. But your eyes shifted to the bloody and broken skin on Hanning’s knuckles as his lowered his hand back to his side. You turned and watched him as he joined the rest of the agents.  

Bucky swallowed and pressed the button at the mouth of the jet to retract the ramp. While you were distracted by Hanning, Bucky shook his hair into his face, keeping his head down, and made his way to the debrief room as he was required to do. He would not be able to hide the damage to his face for long, but if he could at least conceal your reaction from Hanning and the rest of the team, it might be enough to preserve what remained of his dignity.  

You turned and walked back inside the debrief room and Bucky exhaled a heavy breath. As he followed shortly in behind you, he wasn’t surprised to find you had quickly resumed pacing along the back wall of the room. The carpet was slightly discolored under your path.  

Only when Bucky closed the door behind him did you notice his presence.  

You froze, eyes darting across the room. The relief that sank your shoulders was instant, but brief, because the moment you took in more than just his physical body safe inside the jet, a wash of anger and panic absorbed any traces of solace.  

You rushed across the room to him, hands hovering over his shoulders, his forearms, his torso – as if you were seeking to touch him but would not dare to lay a hand upon his body in fear of shattering him whole. Your eyes frantically scanned the open scarring and bruising on his face, searching for more wounds you could not see.  

“What the hell happened to you?” You made no effort to obscure the panic trembling in your voice.  

“Hydra,” he replied shortly, the lie tasting bitter on his tongue. He looked across the room to Steve, who was standing with his back leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. Reluctance clouded the blues of his eyes but he did not contradict Bucky’s story.

“There shouldn’t have been anyone on that floor. You said it was abandoned! That was the whole point of drawing them all to us. You should have been clear!” you tried to reason and shot a glance at Steve to confirm, but his gaze lowered to the floor. You pinched the bridge of your nose as you turned your attention back to Bucky. “Did you get the files at least? Since you insisted on turning off your damn coms to get them?”

Your anger was a mask. Bucky could tell that much for certain by how your eyes shifted consistently to the blood in his left eye and the split on his lip. Fear was not an emotion you took kindly to, especially a fear you had no means of controlling.  

Bucky steeled his features the best he could and pulled the rolled file from the inside pocket of his jacket. Blood stained the corners of the crumpled folder and he set it on the table behind you. You did not seem even remotely satisfied by its presence.  

“Why wouldn’t you just tell us you’d been compromised?” you argued, shoving the folder further down the table. “I could have sent back up to you! Dammit Bucky, I would have come to you myself! You know I would have!”

Steve cleared his throat as he stepped away from the wall, a pleading heaviness filling his eyes as his head shifted towards you – a means of begging Bucky to come forward with the truth. You deserved as much, didn’t you? You cared for him for reasons beyond what Bucky could comprehend. But there would always be that sliver of doubt; that sickening voice in the back of his mind that questioned whether you might think he deserved the retaliation he got. Bucky only shook his head at Steve to warn him into silence.  

Your eyes narrowed on him, gaze following his path to Steve and back. Your instincts were not something Bucky should tread lightly around if he was intent on keeping this from you, and yet – there was some ache of relief to see the questions spinning behind your eyes, the stubbornness drawn to the surface to simply accept his ruse and pretend as though he wasn’t beaten into submission.  

Just as you parted your lips, you paused; your attention caught on the monitors just beyond Bucky’s shoulder. Upon one of the screens, Hanning was dramatically mimicking a fight scene to the entertainment of the surrounding agents. The video carried no sound but it was not easy to mistake the arrogant grin upon Hanning’s face as he showed off the bloodied cuts on his knuckles. Bucky resisted touching the bruise along his jawline.  

Bucky watched as you slowly moved closer to the monitor, studying every muscle in your body as you deciphered what you were seeing. Perhaps he might have been able to play it off as another one of Hanning’s pathetic attempts at boosting his ego by dramatizing a basic combat training move against a weak-willed Hydra agent, but while some of the agents looked to Hanning as if he were a god among men, some carefully – fearfully – looked over their shoulders to the debrief room. As if they were awaiting retaliation. Or punishment.  

Bucky swallowed bile as your spine suddenly went taunt. A gasp drew in a sharp breath to your lungs as you quickly turned to Bucky for confirmation. Suddenly he couldn’t speak – not with the way your eyes were pleading with him to deny it. You turned to Steve next and it only took a second before you saw the weight in his eyes, the truth he’d been hiding at the will of his best friend – how it ate away at him until there was little left. Your hand clasped over your mouth.  

“I’ll be outside,” Steve said quietly, sending an apologetic look in Bucky’s direction.

When the door closed behind him, you turned back to Bucky, waiting for him to say something – anything – to help you understand what happened. Hanning was an asshole, but to do something like this was unheard of. To attack a member of their own team under the ruse of a mission...

And maybe he should have confessed everything then and there, but his own fears were too strong – the possibility you might laugh in his face and side with Hanning, that you might believe him to be as vile and violent as the rest of them, undeserving of a second chance.  

So instead of an explanation, he reached into his back pocket and watched as your face contorted into something akin to horror and grief as he handed you a crumbled hundred-dollar bill. His hand trembled as he extended it to you.  

“What are you doing?” Your voice was barely a whisper; gaze fixated on the speckles of blood on the corners and under his nails.  

Bucky released a breath, though it burned on his exhale. “You won.”

You looked as though you might suffocate under the silence that sank into the room. Tears blurred into your eyes as you slowly took the bill from him, your fingertips lingering against his hand, and tossed it onto the table behind you as if the paper had burned you.  

“I don’t care about the stupid bet, Bucky! I don’t... I don’t want your money! I never wanted your money. Not ever,” you told him, voice shaking. You clenched your right hand into a fist as if it might quell the lump building in the back of your throat. “How long has this been happening?”

Bucky’s own throat was coated in gravel. “It doesn’t matter.”

“So, it has happened before.”

His stomach bottomed as he realized he’d given himself up. You were always too smart for him, too smart to fall for this pathetic ruse. He should have known better than to think he could keep this from you. He prepared himself for your anger, for your disappointment, for your mockery, but instead something akin to guilt sank into your features and Bucky swore his knees might give out entirely.  

“Our own men have gone after you like this... they’ve beaten you on these missions, reported it off as field injuries, and I... I just didn’t know?”  

You brushed at your tears. Bucky suddenly felt nauseous.  

“This isn’t your fault,” he said quickly, giving up on any attempts at concealing his lies further. He could not stand for you to think that you played a single role in this mess. This was on him. Only him. You were only ever the light in his darkest days. You could not hold an ounce of blame for what happened. He wouldn’t allow it.  

“You were in the med bay last month,” you realized suddenly, an awful mix of remorse and agony coating your features. “You were separated from the team when you were jumped. You said... You said it was Kingpin’s men but... it wasn’t, was it? SHIELD agents put you there. They were the ones who attacked you.”

Bucky clenched his jaw, his hand curling tightly to a fist as if that might stop the trembling. “This isn’t your burden to carry. I can take care of myself.”

“Not my burden?” you scoffed. “Look at you! Jesus, Buck. How is this even possible? You should be able to take these assholes on without breaking a sweat! I’ve seen you spar. I’ve fought alongside you. I know what you can do! Hanning barely has a scratch on him. You should have been able to knock him on his ass without—”

You froze and slowly, your shoulders sank.  

“God,” you exhaled, the realization shattering every inch inside your chest as you met his eyes. “You don’t fight back. You can’t, can you? Your pardon. It’s—”

“—conditional,” Bucky sighed and ran a hand through his matted hair. “One word to the council that I’ve stepped out of line and they could revoke it. I could end up on the raft for the rest of my life. And maybe... maybe I belong there anyway but I’m trying to better. To right the wrongs I’ve done. To... to be on the right side of things again. I can’t do that from behind bars. And if word got out I’m throwing punches at the good guys, that’s exactly where I’ll end up.”

“I won’t let that happen,” you swore, wasting no time in your promise. Before he realized it, you were standing only inches from him, your fingertips gently tracing the golden lines on his left hand. He wondered then how he could have ever feared mockery and disgust from a woman who touched him so tenderly.  

A tired smile tugged at his broken lip. “Steve doesn’t even have the power to intervene if it came to that. Let this go, Y/n. I can take a few punches if it means getting a chance to start over.”  

You winced at his words, clenching your jaw as if to choke back a sob. “You can’t keep letting them do this to you. I won’t let you.”

“What would you have me do?” Bucky asked, his voice absent of anger or challenge. It simply carried the heaviness of defeat, of acceptance. “You know what would happen if I gave the council a single reason to doubt which side I’m on. My hands are tied.”  

He realized his mistake the moment a deadly calm swept over you. Clarity, like standing under the eye of storm. Your gaze darted to the monitor where Hanning was still mimicking his fight with Bucky.

“Y/n, wait!”

But you were already halfway out of the room. You did not turn back at Bucky’s plea as you stormed around the corner of the short stretch of hall and into the primary deck of the quinjet. Steve straightened from his position leaning against the wall, his eyes darting behind you where Bucky was quickly following behind. But it was not Steve you’d come in search of.  

Hanning was laughing with a hoard of his men, gathered around the holograph table worth more than any of their miserable lives combined. He rolled his eyes at the sight of you, making a mockery of the fury raging into every line upon your face as you sought him out as he swatted his buddy on the arm.  

The bastard even had the unearned arrogance to smirk as he foolishly turned his attention to Bucky. “Enlisting your girlfriend to fight your battles for you, huh?”

You did not so much as slow your pace, did not draw in a full breath or acknowledge the slight furrow in Hanning’s brow before you threw a punch directly to his left cheekbone. He cursed as he jolted away from you, hands flying to his face as blood began to gush down his nose.  

“What the fuck is wrong with—”

You didn’t give him time to finish before you grabbed a firm hold of his collar and tossed him to the floor. Agents scrambled out of your warpath as you stalked after him.

Hanning looked up at Steve, holding onto his broken nose. Blood seeped from between his fingers. “Do something!”

Steve did not avert his gaze as he replied, “I didn’t see anything.”

Hanning’s eyes widened as you dropped to your knees beside him and fisted his collar. “Sergeant Barnes may not be able to fight back without breaking his pardon, but I sure as hell can. And unlike you, I don’t need my fights rigged to win. Lay a hand on him again and I’ll ensure you walk away from your next mission on a fucking stretcher!”

Hanning clawed at your grip, fear seeping through every line upon his face. “You can’t threaten me!”  

“Wanna bet?” Your nails nearly tore through the Kevlar fabric of Hanning’s shirt. “I’m an Avenger, asshole. You’re no one. I can make sure you’re transferred to the furthest corner of this planet. You’ll wish you were in space with the tree and the goddamn racoon!”

Hanning’s panicked eyes darted back to Steve who only shrugged and turned his attention to the passing of clouds outside the cockpit windows.

Bucky couldn’t help the smirk as it tugged at his mouth. He folded his arms firmly over his chest, sinking back into his stance. This image of you – baring your teeth, vicious in every muscle, seething in defense of him – was one he would commit to memory. He’d return to it in his darkest hours when he could find no answer for the cruel voices in the back of his mind – to draw upon this moment to chase away his demons with your anger and protection.  

“Are we clear?” you ordered when Hanning was too stunned to respond. He nodded frantically, as did the rest of the crew. You released Hanning’s collar and he fell to the ground with a heavy thud. He stayed still as stone as you slowly rose to your feet and brushed off his blood on the thighs of your pants.  

Your chest heavy and steady – each breath longer than the last. You did not tear your eyes away from Hanning for even a second, ensuring he felt every ounce of the rage burning inside of you.  

Bucky took a step forward, unbothered by the stares of the agents as he approached you. He set a hand on your shoulder, instantly noting the rigid tension in your muscles.  

“Come with me,” he requested, his voice quiet enough only you could have heard him. You expelled a breath as if it were made of fire and slowly followed him from the room.  

Bucky stepped inside the debriefing room first. He looked to the windows where clouds were passing by below the jetstream. Steady. Even. He took as much of their calm as he could manage and picked up the crumpled hundred dollar bill from the table. When he turned to face you again, he attempted to hand you the money but you held your hands up defensively and took a cautious step backward.  

“Bucky, no. Please, I don’t want it,” you resisted, your voice hollow and pained. “I only made the stupid bet to get you to stop being so reckless. I don’t want your money.”

He smiled at your stubbornness, at your scheming means to keep him safe. Bucky inched closer to you, extending his left palm up until you cautiously set your hand in his. His thumb drew a careful line along your palm and you watched him with such startling precision, he wondered if you might have been committing the feeling to memory.  

“What happened to our plans for Coney Island?” he asked softly.

Tears spilled over your cheekbones as a tired laugh escaped you. He pressed the bill into your palm and closed your grip around it – holding it tight at the center of your hand as gently as you might his own heart.  

“I should have said something the first time it happened,” Bucky said quietly, his gaze still fixated on your closed fist resting on his palm. “I’m sorry I didn’t.”

You shook your head. “You don’t need to apologize for anything.”

“No, I do.” He sighed, concentrating on the smooth skin of your hand. He skimmed his thumb along the tender skin on your knuckles, his heart suddenly heavy in his chest. “You didn’t even hesitate to defend me. Didn’t even second guess why they might have gone after me. You... you didn't question if I deserved it.”

Your face slacked at his admission. “Bucky...”

“I should have told you,” he repeated despite the burden of grief in your voice. He knew now that if he’d offered you a share of this weight from the start, that maybe it wouldn’t have gotten this far. Hanning wouldn’t have planned each mission to ensure he cornered Bucky on his own and got in enough swings to fuel his pathetic, sheltered ego. Maybe Bucky wouldn’t have spent so long believing this was his penance.  

You lifted your free hand to the side of his face, gently settling against the bruising to cup his cheek. He closed his eyes, sinking into the feeling. Your thumb brushed along a tender ache on his cheekbone but there was no pain under your touch.  

“I know now,” you told him softly, “and it won’t ever happen again.”

Bucky smiled though it tugged at the split on his lip. “I know.”

You lowered your hand from his face and gently pushed the hundred-dollar bill back towards him. “Take this back, Buck. Take it back and promise we’ll still go to Coney Island.”

Bucky closed his fist around the crumpled bill and slowly nodded. You did not release his hand. You did not pull away. You only held him – touched him as though you could not stand to pull away from him.  

“I swear it,” he exhaled, his gaze still fixated on your hands.  

You sighed, relief slipping through your body as you smiled at him. “Think you can win me a giant bear?”

Bucky chuckled and he didn’t mind when the split on his lip ached as he smiled. “Should we bet on it?”  

---

Thank you so much for reading! ❤️ If you enjoyed this fic, please consider supporting me at my ko-fi account ✨

[keeganbrainmush]

" Can't Sleep. " ; Simon " Ghost " Riley x Male reader

♡Request: " Reader just can’t seem to fall asleep but ghost helps by tiring him out. " ♡Contains: Penetration, Sleepy sex, Top reader, riding, power bottom Simon, established relationship, marking, whimpering men, Tease Simon. ♡Pure smut drabble with a pinch of fluff.

navigation.

You stared up at the ceiling of your room, eyes blank as you glanced at the clock. 2:26 am. Fuck. You had to get up at eight for work and you haven't had a blink of sleep. Turning over to face your husbands back, huddling closer to him to press your forehead against his nape and basked in his warmth as he wasn't wearing a shirt.

" Can't sleep? " A husky voice mumbled, you looked over Simons shoulder and saw him with open eyes. His eyes were locked forward and his eyebrows furrowed, the pretty scar over his left eyebrow creased. " Yeah, You can't sleep either? " You asked, propping yourself up on your elbows to look at his face better. " I was sleepin' amazing. But you kept huffing and puffing, turning and groaning. " Simon replied, turned onto his back to look at you dead-on.

You looked at him with a confused look, not realizing how much you actually were tossing and turning. " Oh. Sorry, Love. I'll quiet down. " You promised, leaning down to kiss him on the temple. " Actually, I got a way to get you to sleep. " Simon told you, looking at you with a glint in his eyes. Having an idea in your mind, but not wanting to be pushy about it if it wasn't what you were thinking of, you raised your eyebrow at him slightly in curiosity.

" What? You buy me some surprise melatonin? " You asked, tracing an finger over his arm veins. " No, But I think you'll like it much more than some gummies. " He told you, lifting his body enough to throw a leg over you and straddle your lap. You gulped nervously and looked up at Simon, his pupils were dilated to the point where his iris' were barely visible.

" Can I? " Simon asked, looking down at you softly, his hands on the waistbands of your boxers. " Fuck- Yes, please. " You mumbled, biting back a small whimper as you felt the cloth of your underwear brush against your half hard cock. Simon stroked it as he sat back on your thighs, a small wet spot forming on his own boxers. " Wait, Si. Stretch yourself out first. " You told him, a worried look flooding your gaze.

" Stretched myself out already, don't worry about me. " Simon mumbled, rubbing the precum gathering at your tip as lube all along your cock. He finally lifted his hips over you, adjusting your dick to his hole, pressing himself down inch by inch. A quiet nearly inaudible moan left Simons lifts as he finally sat against your pelvis, bottoming out as he panted.

You placed your hands onto his hips, staring at where your cock disappeared into him needily. Simon felt how you twitched inside of him everytime you watched how he ground his hips into you. " What, you like how it looks when I fuck myself on you? " He asked, moving his hips up and you dug your fingers into his hip muscles at your words.

Simon suddenly started bouncing quicker, breathy moans escaping from his mouth. You whimpered as you felt Simon suddenly tighten around you. " Shit, don't do that. " You told him, wincing as he did it again. " Or what? You'll cum? What makes you think I don't want you to do just that? " Simon responded, his voice husky with sleepiness as he looked down at you with eyes filled with fake sympathy.

You let out shaky breathes as you started fucking into him as he bounced on you, trying to match his pace as your brain went fuzzy with pleasure. One particular thrust up while Simon was coming down made him scream out, tears beginning to prick at his eyes. You groaned as he began getting tighter, but not in a way to tease you. He was close, and so were you.

You started chasing your own high, your pupils dilated as you shuddered everytime Simon slammed down onto you. Desperate for your own release, but refusing to cum before him, you grabbed onto Simons cock. He let out a small gasp, his back arched towards you as he threw his head back as he felt you jerking him off as you used the precum dripping out of him as slick.

" Close- 'm close. " Simon panted, his thighs shaking as his movements started getting sloppy. " With me, cum with me. " You demanded, fucking up into him. He nodded hazily, eyes half-lidded. Simon practically screamed out as he finally felt his orgasm, convulsing on your cock as he fucked himself through his orgasm. You whimpered as you felt the now much tighter Simon fucking himself harder onto you, you leaned forward to bit onto his abdomen as you came, muffling your moans in his skin as warm liquid filled Simon.

You stayed there in that position for a moment, trying to recollect your thoughts as sleep pulled at your brain. Simon cupped your face in his hands and made you look up at him. " Hey, unless you're gonna wake up early enough to shower before leaving get cleaned up now. " He ordered, a thin coat of sweat covering his face. " Yes, Sir. " You mumbled, a playful tone in your voice as he lifted himself off of you and felt your cum seeping out of him.

[cherrifire]

Fragment headcanons <3

For those who don't know, these are fragments:

Art credit: me ;)

They are caused by Watchers eating up a player's negative emotions and visualize as these cracks in the body.

Note: I'm going to slap all Double Life fragments onto the heart. It just makes sense. So this headcanon list will be for 3rd/Last/Limited unless there is a special difference (Grian + Pearl + Jimmy + Ren). Just so I don't have to write over the heart several times.

Grian

The only fragment he has stretches across the back of his hands from where he had to beat Scar to death in 3rd Life.

He keeps the Watchers off him for the rest of the series by bringing a silly and goofy vibe to the games though. They hate him so bad so they haven't given him any more fragments. They would rather just ignore him.

Scott

3rd Life fragment wraps around his head like a flower crown.

Last Life fragment hits him in the shoulder then another on the bottom of his foot, spreading inside his body like lightning. (Think Aang's scar from Avatar the Last Airbender)

Limited Life fragment on the left side of his back, giving him a fragment on both sides of his heart. This is due to how hard his heart would have been pounding every time he was hunted for sport.

Pearl

Last Life, Pearl is granted 6 lives and has a habit of using/giving those lives to help Scott, her closest ally. The fragment is small and over the heart.

Pearl's experience in Double Life with heartbreak was so intense, and since she already had a fragment over the heart, her fragment for that season ended up huge. The cracks over her heart are wide and bright. But the Watchers loved her so much they sent her back in even though she wasn't ready. Meaning she held onto her emotions for Tilly and had to be swapped out with Lizzie for an episode.

Limited Life fragment is placed between her eyes and above on her forehead. Like a third eye for being a nosey neighbour and watching.

Martyn (We actually get to see his fragments at the end of Lim Life.)

3rd Life fragment spreads down the cheek like tears for when he cried losing Ren.

Last Life, on the back. The backstabber was backstabbed. He was completely willing to betray Grian in order to get himself, Mumbo, Jimmy, and Impulse somewhere nicer. Somewhere safer. The end. Only for the Watchers to reveal that was never the case.

Limited Life, over the hand his weapon was held in in which he had to kill Scott twice with.

Jimmy

All of Jimmy's fragments spread across his back like canary wings.

Scar

3rd Life, spreads across his chest from where that first creeper blew him up. The first death. Seems rather fitting for the guy who can't keep his shirt on.

Last Life, through his mouth, built from all the lies he spoke.

Limited Life, matching placements with the Clockers on the right forearm like a family tattoo.

Joel

3rd Life, a few small cracks spread around like dog bites.

Last Life, one of the biggest fragments and spread through his entire body. For every kill he got, he got a matching crack as if he was the one who died. His insanity means he has axe, sword, arrow, explosion, and fall damage cracks because with each kill he got worse.

Limited Life, kind of hidden based on just how many cracks Joel has, but starts above his chest and out through the bottom of his foot. Another lightning scar.

Etho

3rd Life, cracks spread from his finger tips up from digging his hands in the dirt to plant dark oak saplings.

Last Life is hard to place a fragment. Because I know he would get one for never giving Bdubs one of his lives but I don't know where that would place on the body. Back of the head for not thinking? Over the heart for the ache of regret? I'm not sure.

Matching fragment with the Clockers but it's on the wrong arm (left).

Bdubs

Bdubs is similar to Grian to me in a case where he brings a very goofy mood to the series. So I want to say he doesn't have a fragment for 3rd Life. Like, he betrays Impulse with 0 remorse.

Last Life, on the back where Grian shot him. That was the moment he realized Etho didn't love him as much as he thought. Shot for doing what he asked and never receiving another life. Etho's name on the tip of his tongue as he dies alone.

Limited Life, Clocker fragment, right forearm.

BigB

3rd Life, similar to Etho, I'm not sure where to place this one. But I think BigB would have a fragment for loneliness. BigB spends a lot of time that season on his own. And it's not like other seasons with lonely characters. Last Life Joel + Scar, Double Life Pearl, etc etc, they all still sort of had someone. Like Joel and Scar still technically had each other + Pearl technically had Scott, Martyn, and Cleo. BigB is mostly just doing his own thing for a good portion of 3rd Life and doesn't join a team till late season.

Last Life, matching stab fragment with Cleo because his betrayal on her hurt just as badly for him.

Limited Life, matching third eye fragment with Pearl for being a nosey neighbour.

Impulse

It's so easy to betray this guy. Both 3rd and Limited Life fragments are on his back from being backstabbed by both Bdub and Martyn. Though, the one left by Bdubs in 3rd life is more prominent and fractured.

Impulse doesn't get a fragment for Last Life. He didn't do much this season and thankfully was able to avoid any huge heartbreak.

Skizz

I think... despite not being in Double Life, Skizz has a huge fragment over the heart. It's not massive like Pearl's despite all 3 fragments being there simply because Skizz is filled with so much love. Love for his teammates and love for even his enemies.

3rd Life, he dies for his nation. Rushing in because he's tired of his friend being pushed around. (I will also never be over how Skizz RAN to Dogwarts when he heard Martyn beheaded Ren. He thought Martyn had betrayed Ren and was ready to CATCH HANDS despite only being in golden armour.)

Last Life, even when team BEST kicks him out, he's sure to stop in the middle of his threats to tell Tango that he's on Skizz's good side. And even though he's mad at his team, when he dies, his ghost watches over them anyway. Being the only one to hear Bdub's final words.

Limited Life we of course got the affirmation station. And when his time was up, he let Etho kill him so his whole team could stay in the game just a little longer even if Skizz could have kept trying for another 20 minutes. He loves so much it kills him almost every time.

Tango

Fragment hidden in his hair for his rage (hot-headed).

For the most part, Tango goes under the radar for the Watcher. His deaths are anticlimactic and there's never enough drama for him. They only pay attention to him when he's angry and this neglect means he holds onto grudges and hosts a furious rage for most people who have hurt him the most. Bdubs constantly being the one to take his lives in Last Life and inflicting the first rage. Martyn just never being a positive presence for Tango's POV meaning he doesn't trust him one bit. Like. Tango is Martyn's most frequent victim with 4 kills.

Cleo

Another case where I'm unsure where to put it. I think Cleo would have a fragment from the stress she had to endure from stealing and hiding Pizza.

Last Life, Cleo gets a stag fragment on her back for being backstabbed by BigB. The thing that makes this fracture special is how it doesn't stay the same. The Watchers forgot to remove part of her negative feelings towards BigB after this betrayal. As the series goes on, this fragment gets bigger and bigger since Cleo never forgives BigB for this betrayal.

Limited Life, Clocker fragment, right forearm. Additionally, part of her Last Life fragment settles down thanks to her short swap with Gem.

Ren

A crack around the neck, fracturing from the back where Martyn beheaded him. Similar to Scar's explosion fragment being important because he's the first death of the series, I think this fragment is also significant since it's the first PvP kill. The first weapon drawn.

Like Skizz, Ren is also a lover. Filled with love, loyalty, and dedication to the people he cares about. His heart fracture spreads across his heart for the same reasons. He would lay his life on the line for his allies. And I think BigB leaving him for Grian broke him so much inside he couldn't return to Limited Life.

Lizzie

She wasn't built for this series. Wasn't built to be killed in cold blood by her soulmate Joel and his red life insanities. But she was healthy enough to be brought because just a little to stand in for Pearl.

Mumbo

He also wasn't built for this series. They snapped him in half bro. Being killed by Grian was too much.

If you disagree with anything or have any of your own ideas please let me know in the comments/tags <3

[gglitch1dd]

Sun of my life (Dragon Eijiro x Dragon Reader)

Day 6 of Breedingtober (HAPPY BIRTHDAY EIJIRO)

You finally get married to the love of your life.

Warning: SMUT, SEX, Fire, (fake) religious ceremony, BLOOD, LIKE A LOT OF IT, not during sex though, dragon anatomy (Eijiro doesnt have 2 dicks mostly cause i didn't know how to write that yet, but mention of his wings and tail do appear), VOYEURISM, BREEDING,

Words: 8,2k

“You look so beautiful, Y/N.” You smiled as you looked up at Tamami as she carefully put the last ring around your horns.

You reached up and put a hand to her face. “Thank you, sweetheart.” You spoke genuinely before looking back at the mirror in front of you.

Behind you all over the room were draikanas of the Kirishima family, in laws or born into the family, that were helping you with your preparations for tonight. You were decorated in gold and jewels that matched the traditional draconic wedding attire you adorned on your figure. Your skin had been decorated in traditional wedding paint that would leave in three days but was done in the patterns of the family you were now marrying into. It had taken a good few hours yesterday to get it done with how intricate and detailed one had to be with such designs.

Today was a special day. It was one heavily awaited by you and the love of your life. It was your wedding day, a beautiful day meant to join the both of you together and the day you officially joined his family and became part of the royal family that led the dragons in Yuuie.

It was a special day and a closed affair. Dragons didn’t really like people from outside coming in when celebrating special occasions, royal weddings were one of them. However, there were exceptions, like the barbarians. The barbarians practically worshiped the dragons, believing them as being closer to their god, the Starry Flame, the god of stars and fire.

But you were just happy that today would be the day that you and Eijiro would finally be one. Husband and wife. Mates, with the stars and all of your family and friends as your witnesses. It was a day you dreamed of as a little hatchling and finally it was coming true.

The day you got to marry your biggest fancy and nestmate. You had known each other since you had both hatched and grew up along side one another, as well as other hatchlings. You weren’t anyone special like him, just a draikana that grew up to do her part in the community that was the left over dragons of Yuuie Island. There weren’t as many as you as there were a generation ago, according to your parents, but you were enough.

You were always friends with Eijiro but you never made an attempt at romance. He was the prince, after all. The crown prince, after his two eldest sisters unfortunately died due to humans when he was younger. You watched him. You watched him grow out of his black scales and reach his coming of age where he got the red scales of his mother. You watched as he left the community, to much worry of your community, to travel and represent the dragons in Yuuie with the rowdy barbarian prince that claimed to be his rider. You watched as he came back three years later, stronger, taller, wiser, with scars to tell tales of and just happy to be home.

That’s when you also noticed his eyes on you. You weren’t entirely sure what prompted him to be interested in you. Actually, you still weren’t sure about that to this day. All you knew was suddenly he was asking you to dance whenever the music played and drinks were being passed around. You were suddenly never found in your family den and was staring up at the stars outside the safe network of caves that kept your community safe, with Eijiro right by your side. Suddenly you found yourself staring into beautiful ruby eyes wondering how on earth you managed to fancy such a drake.

Eijiro was as large as his father, or any Kirishima male dragon. He had a loud laugh that would make you smile and the gentlest ruby eyes that made you feel like you were something special. He was constantly helping out in the community and you could find him doing all sorts of things at random. You always found him rather chivalrous with the way he treated others and loved the amount of respect he had for his elders. He was always willing to learn and teach what he has learnt in turn to those younger.

You, however, didn’t expect for him to ask to court you, a gem he had found himself, presented to you in offering. It was a shock to your system, and honestly you thought it was all some big joke. But he wasn’t joking and he was very persistent. Very persistent. He wouldn’t leave you alone about it. You didn’t think yourself worthy of him but he surely disagreed. He found you perfect for him in every way. He never stopped asking, and asking, and asking. It took his mother and father, Yua and Takeo, both to convince you that he indeed wasn’t joking and that they genuinely approved of you and their son, for you to realise how serious he was.

After that, the two of you were nearly inseparable and Eijiro was lovesick. More than just lovesick. He was head over tail in love with you. He followed you like a lost hatchling and honestly, you found it rather flattering. He spent every moment he could, trying to show you how much he appreciated you, from all the courting gifts, showing you just how great of a mate he was. He won every fight at every event he was in, he always brought back a kill for you, he got you gems and gold from his raids. He even brought you flowers (which you didn’t really understand why he would give you dead plants, but apparently it was a human thing so you found it cute).

Now it wasn’t always sunshine and rainbows. There were certain times you and Eijiro fought, but it was mostly because he would do something stupid, or because of the raids. Dragons were still a hunted species because of the human kingdoms and him going out there with Bakugou Katsuki, the barbarian prince, always had you worried sick. Yes, he was a large dragon and he was still growing in fact, but he wasn’t impenetrable. He wasn’t immortal. It was something you tried convincing him again and again, but your stupid lovable Eijiro, always found himself at any aid that called upon him. He was just honourable like that.

You wanted to hate the aggressive blond that was Bakugou Katsuki for always dragging your drake into such dangerous situations, however, when you had the great and powerful Bakugou Katsuki on his knees before you, head bent down at your sovereignty just for being a dragon… it was hard to hate him. Katsuki was a hardass mean tyrannical fireborne man to everyone but the dragons (minus Eijiro on occasion). His devotion to the dragons and the protection was always appreciated. Especially when he ordered the barbarians, a nomadic species at heart, to move closer to the mountain (volcano in reality) that the dragons reside in, as an extra form of protection.

It was hard to hate him. Not impossible, but harder than you wanted it to be.

But all of your qualms didn’t matter as long as Eijiro came back to you. And he always did. And now, you were both finally going to get bonded to one another, claiming one another in front of everyone as a declaration of love to one another. It was finally the moment you had been dreaming for. And you couldn’t have been happier.

Yua walked up to stand behind you, a smile on her face as she looked at you. Her long red hair cascaded down one shoulder as she looked at you with a proud look on her face. “He’s going to fall to his knees at the sight of you.” She praised putting a kiss to the side of your head. With all the ornaments going on, on top of your head, that was the best way for her to show you affection.

You smiled up at her, turning to face her. “Thank you so much, Yua.”

“Don’t thank me sweetheart,” She shrugged it off as she moved out of the way. She beckoned you to stand up. “Now come on, let me see you.” She said.

You chuckled as you moved to stand up, you looked down at the white stained cloths and rare furs that adorned your body. You found yourself better than you had ever been. You straightened up as you put your hands together. You let out a shaky breath and looked to Yua. She smiled, tears in her eyes as she gave you a firm nod. She motioned for you forward.

Tamami, Narumi and Natsumi all walked behind you, receiving baskets of white pebbles that they would scatter behind you when you walked. The curtain was drawn away in the opening doorway that led to a tunnel. Standing outside ceremoniously dressed was Kirishima Takeo. He turned to look at you but paused at the sight of you.

The large King of Dragons, with horns of obsidian and hair just as dark as that was frozen as he looked at you. His ruby eyes wide as he took you in. The large behemoth of a man, identical in features to your own Eijiro, blinked before a shaky smile went to his face. Tears filled his red eyes as he looked at you. “Oh pumpkin…” He let out softly, moving towards you. He looked you over another time sniffing. Then suddenly you saw his jaw vibrate as he held back a sob. He turned to look away from you, putting a hand to the stone wall as he tried to hold it in.

You felt tears in your own eyes as you neared him. “Takeo…”

He shook his head as he looked up to the ceiling. “I promised Yua I wouldn’t cry.” He said. He glanced at you before crumbling. He pulled you into a tight hug, holding you up against him in his warm embrace. His large soft muscles cradled you against him, almost as if you were his own blood and he was trying to keep you safe. “Pumpkin, you’re so beautiful!” He cried out as he held you to his thick pecs, not bothered by the weight of you, your clothes or jewellery. “You look like a fluffy white cloud. You’re so gorgeous, oh my stars!”

“Takeo.” Yua walked over to her husband in amusement as hot tears ran down his face. She took out a handkerchief bringing it to wipe at his face. “Be careful, we just got her dressed.” She chastised her large husband.

Takeo nodded as he carefully sat you down, moving to wipe his eyes with the handkerchief Yua gave him. He sniffed. “Okay, okay. I’ll be careful.” He took a moment to take a deep breath. He blew his nose, lighting the handkerchief on fire. Your eyes widened at the sudden appearance of flames. He handed the handkerchief back to Yua. “Thank you, dear.” He nodded sincerely. Yua gave him a blunt look with her handkerchief now on fire.

Takeo then turned to you, offering his arm. You smiled up at him and took it. You put your hand to his arm and took a place beside him. He motioned forward. The two of you walked ahead, moving through the torch lit corridors that made up the deep network of tunnels and caves of the dragon community. You reached the common hall, a large cavern that was large and spacious. This was the place you ate with the community, where announcements were made and where you ran around bare naked with nothing but your scales as a small hatchling. The both of you continued onwards, moving with Eijiro’s younger sisters behind you as your pebble girls. Takeo finally led you to what was decorated in wreaths and silks from the barbarians. Everything beautiful and laid out just for you.

Everyone was already standing and waiting for you, and suddenly it felt like all eyes were on you. All eyes except Eijiro, who stood at the very end of the made isle, with his wings flexing every so often showing how nervous he was. You couldn’t help but let out soft giggles as you moved down the middle with Takeo at your side.

You smiled at everyone who looked at you, their happy faces reminding you how lucky you were to be in this situation right now, with everyone who loves you and cares for you all around you. It almost made you want to cry. But you had to hold back the tears. Today was a happy day.

Once you reached the front, you looked over to Takeo, who smiled down at you proudly, crows feet by his eyes so prominent. The older drake was like a father figure to you and he loved you as though he was your sire. Often you wondered if your Eijiro would grow up to look just as his father and every day they looked the same, despite Takeo’s soft grey streaks in dark inky black thick hair that cascaded down his back. He cupped your face in large warm hands and placed a kiss on your forehead. You squeezed his hands in gratitude for all he had done for you so far.

You turned to the front, where Elder Park stood with Eijiro. Eijiro’s tail was swishing left and right making you giggle. You moved to stand next to him. “Hi.” You spoke softly. You hadn’t seen him all day, the wedding happening at sunset with all the celebrations going far into the night.

Eijiro finally was allowed to look at you, dragon tradition stating that the drake wasn’t allowed to gaze upon you until spoken to. “Hey, I-” All words left him as he looked at you. Eijiro’s red eyes widened in shock as he stared down at you in surprise. You watched him as he squeezed his eyes shut, fighting back tears as he turned away from you as he covered his face.

You chuckled at the action along with others. You felt your own tears spring to your eyes. “Eijiro, you can’t turn away yet. We haven’t even gotten married.” You reasoned.

Eijiro sniffed as he tried rubbing the tears away, straightening up again. “I’m sorry.” He chuckled. “I’m sorry, it’s just…” He finally looked at you again, pupils big as he stared down at you like you were the sky and stars themselves. Love was so evident in his eyes it almost made you melt. He leaned forward and put his nose against yours with a loving rumble. “You’re so beautiful, my setting horizon.” He let out softly in a whisper, tears in his eyes.

Looking up at him now, you realised fully how handsome he was. His hair was done in ceremonial braids all for the occasion, golden rings decorated his obsidian horns as his bare skin that was not covered in scales had the tribal patterns of his family decorated on in white on thick hard-earned muscle. Your drake looked so handsome, and so perfectly and wonderfully yours.

Elder Park cleared his throat calling for attention. He looked at you and then at Eijiro. His face fell in annoyance as he rolled his eyes. “Great another Kirishima.” That brought a slight blush to Eijiro’s face as Elder Park started.

To be honest, you barely focused on the wedding when you had Eijiro staring at you as if you were gold itself. His eyes on you and only you. You were both too busy giggling every now and then, that Elder Park was growing more annoyed by your giggles.

Carefully the both of you moved closer together, Eijiro held you in his arms as he stared down at you. You knew the ceremony procedures and knew that now was time for you both to do as required. You bared your neck, exposing it to Eijiro.

Eijiro rubbed his thumb over the exposed skin that you showed him. Carefully he put a kiss to your neck, it was warm like everything about him, gentle and almost loving. A sort of apology, before he sunk his teeth into your neck. Sharp canines piercing your skin, tearing through flesh and muscle. You bit back a hiss, although painful there was a warm feeling that pulsated around the wound almost comfortingly.

He moved his mouth off of your neck. You carefully moved your fingers to the wound on your neck, covering your fingers in your own blood. Once you made sure that they were thoroughly dipped in deep dark crimson red blood you looked up at Eijiro with a happy smile. “I take you to be my drake, my rock and my foundation,” You moved your fingers to Eijiro’s face. His eyes closed as you carefully drew against his skin. “The other half of my heart’s flame and the one I return to. You, Kirishima Eijiro,” You drew two straight lines down the centre of his face, over his nose and lips till the very tip of his chin. He opened his eyes and smiled at you, making you pause as you took him in. You felt choked up a bit. You gave him a shaky tearful smile. “You are mine as I am yours. Till the world burns once more. My rising horizon and sun of my life.”

Eijiro let out a happy rumble making you giggle. Carefully, he bared his neck to you as well, exposing his neck for you to bite. You reached up, carefully kissing his skin, before trying to find a good place. It had to be perfect. Your bite wouldn’t be as big as Eijiro but you just needed to try harder in claiming. You moved your mouth over to the space between his neck and shoulder and bit down hard, the taste of his skin on your tongue as you broke skin. You tasted the metallic taste of blood in your mouth. You bit harder trying to make sure he bite would be deep enough. You let go of him. You looked down at the bite mark, proud of what you had done making Eijiro laugh lightly.

“I take you to be my draikana, my reason and determination,” He carefully dipped his fingers in his own blood, moving his thumbs over to the top of your hairline. You closed your eyes at the feeling of his warm thumbs on your face, trying to fight back tears at the overwhelming feeling in your chest. “The other half of my heart’s flame and the one I fight for. You, L/N Y/N,” Once you felt his fingers reach the bottom of your face, you opened your eyes to look at him. A lovestruck expression, his pupils big in adoration and hypnotised by your presence. “You are mine as I am yours. My future Queen as I am your future King. Till the world burns once more. My setting horizon and sun of my life.” He looked so undeniably soft and smitten with you and you couldn’t help but look up at him the same. His hands still cupped your face and you reached up and did the same.

He was yours. No one else’s, just yours.

You wanted him in mind body and soul.

A loving hot rumble came out of his chest, a dragon like purr, as his chest glowed red hot with the fire of his heart. You returned it with your foreheads pressed together, your own chest glowing with the fire inside you. A warm space only for the both of you as you stood together in each other’s arms.

“In fire and blood are they joined together, forever moving in that cycle as two halves that make a whole, that click together. With holy fire as their witness and in front of the eyes of all their family and loved ones, a drake and draikana become mates.”

You felt tears burn in your eyes with a soft giggle bubbling out of your chest. Eijiro couldn’t help but match your expression, too much emotions brimming in his chest as tears brimmed at his ruby eyes as he looked down at you. He swiped his thumb over your cheek. Not wasting a second longer, Eijiro kissed you. You kissed him back, the taste of blood and smoke on his lips only edging you for more as you held each other safely in each other’s arms.

Everyone was in great celebration as food was passed around in baskets and drinks were raised in cheers. Gifts of all sorts were brought forward to the new married couple as well as presented from the groom’s family to yours as gratitude for raising you and for giving you over to them. The celebrations had been moved to the main vent of the volcano, that was covered in igneous rock and a layer of soul and vegetation that almost made it hard to believe that this was indeed a volcano. The warm soil was a bit of an indicator, but dragons preferred their habitats hot anyways.

From the ceremony, immediately was food and there was almost too much to go around. Cows slaughtered galore, leaving a sent of beef and blood in the air. Cows were symbolically a sign of fertility and fruition, a symbol of the earth. That and the dragons really liked beef. The cups of sweet fruity wine made specially from the barbarians was in the cups of adults and elders old and newly coming of age scaled dragons as young as fourteen too. It was a joyous occasion, that would probably last the entire night. Music thrummed in the air from strong loud drums and string guitars and flutes. A heavy sound of constant dance and song.

Eijiro sat on a cushioned pillow, surrounded by more pillows and furs, with your place beside him empty. Much was happening but the main spectacle was you in front of everyone dancing like Eijiro had never seen you before. He was hypnotised and no one could blame him. His eyes only on you and the jingle of the bells around your feet that made noise with every step and the sway and shake of your hips that carried the heavy skirt that was made out of thick layers and jewels. Beads adorned your neck and head, a beautiful display as the only other thing that was covered about you was your chest by a cloth.

Katsuki sat next to Eijiro as his best man, the barbarian watched as you danced in the middle, the musicians playing an upbeat tune with the loud banging of drums and string instruments just for you alone. Your husband sat, hands on his knees, sitting up straight as he watched you with a smirk, a look of pure pride on his face with an upright posture.

The blond prince turned to look to Takeo who had a drink in hand as well as Mina who was talking to Yua. “Oi pink scales.” Katsuki whispered loudly, although there wasn’t much of a need to whisper at all. “This is the bridal dance, right?”

She nodded her head excitedly to tell him. “Yep.” She moved to kneel next to Bakugou’s pillow as she motioned over to you. “It’s one of the main events of weddings. The bride dances using a heavy skirt made by the groom’s family. The skirt is the same weight as an egg of the family. The bride being able to dance with the skirt so freely is a show of how she can carry the weight of the future of the family, and it shows her strength and agility. It also shows her devotion to her new family.” She informed him.

Katsuki’s crimson eyes moved to Eijiro, elevated above him for all to see, who watched you with a heated gaze. Katsuki knew what that look meant, and it was as plain as day what the redheaded dragon thought about your display. “So all that Eijiro has done during courting, the hunting and fighting and all that shit… that was his display of devotion to her?”

Mina nodded. “He proves it in action and she proves it now.”

Takeo let out a hum as he folded his arms over his chest. He looked like a proud father as he looked over at you. “And Y/N’s skirt is the same weight as Yua’s.” He stated confidently, before looking over to his much smaller wife. He put a kiss to her head making her smile up at him. Then he placed another one, and another one, littering her face in kisses making the draikana purr in happiness with giggles. “You were so gorgeous during your Bri’erdaral Drankerr’.” He whispered in a low growl, near her neck making her giggle with a blush.

Katsuki instantly translated the draconic to ‘bridal dance’ in the common tongue. Draconic was a rather confusing language if you couldn’t pick up the letters underneath the undertone of growls and rough speech, as well as the heavy impact that emotions had one the meaning of the sentence or words. Humans couldn’t speak the language often due to how rough it was.

Mina nodded her head before looking to you in awe. The brown skinned dragon with pink scales put her head in her hands with a proud smile. “Yua had a skirt double the weight of a Kirishima egg, around twenty pounds, and Y/N did the same. She practised so hard for this dance. You should have seen all the tape from Sero she had to use while practising. She danced everyday till her feet were raw and her scales were all stiff the following day.”

Katsuki raised his eyebrows looking over at you. You made it seem so seamless. Every step seemed precalculated and yet beautifully by chance and every wave of your arms was graceful and elegant. Like a dragon flying in the sky, you looked just like one. You held one side of your skirt as you moved around with sweeping yet hard planted steps, the jingle of your movements filling the air and matching the song being played.

Eijiro motioned to Katsuki, taking the blond’s attention. He pointed over to you with a proud smile. “That’s my wife.”

Katsuki chuckled. “I can see, buddy.”

Finally, your dance came to a stop instantly prompting cheers and applause. You wiped your forehead of sweat but a happy smile on your face at what you had done. You looked over to your new husband who had the biggest smile on his face as you neared him. You crouched down and carefully moved to the huge puffed out pillow that was set for you. Eijiro moved to put a hand to the side of your face and bring you in for a deep kiss. You chuckled against his lips, finding his need amusing.

You separated from him with a broad stupid smile on your face. You giggled. “Was it to your liking?”

A loud pleased rumble left his chest as he nodded his head, pulling you closer to him. “More than that, you were absolutely perfect, my love.” He praised, grabbing your wrist and bringing to his mouth for a kiss. You giggled at the gesture. A low rumble of draconic praise coming out of his mouth as he kissed your neck.

In the middle you watched as the young hatchlings had a time to have their own little dances in the middle. A display of the future of the community but also a hope for the both of you. Your husband had a broad smile on his face as one of his sisters waved over to him excitedly. He waved back with just was much excitement, motioning for her to follow the steps of the dance and not to get too distracted.

More dancing was in the middle now, a mixture of everyone enjoying their time as you got wine delivered to you to quench your thirst. The night was moving on with not a hint of tiredness from anyone. The moon was high in the sky almost directly above the main vent, a great big glowing circle in the sky despite the torches and fires.  

Eijiro motioned to his father, who nodded as he looked to Mina. Quickly, Mina, Yua, Denki and other members of the bridal party made quick discreet work of shooing away all the hatchlings and those who hadn’t got their coming-of-age scales yet.

“Abba, let me go!” Tamami said as she beat against his back as he picked her up effortlessly and shooed her away. “Why can’t I stay! I already have my coming-of-age scales and by dragon law, I can stay!” She protested, conjuring her wings to try and beat away Takeo so he can let go of her. “I’m already fifteen!”

Takeo shook his head. “Next year.” He placed her down near the corridor where all those on hatchling duty were leading the young ones away. Tamami frowned up at her father with furrowed eyebrows and a pout. “I need you to be a good girl and go look after the hatchlings and all the eggs, it won’t be long till the wedding is officially over.”

“This is unfair.” She protested with her arms folded. “I’m old enough to see.” She whined.

“I’m the king, everything I say is fair.” She frowned as she looked away from him stubbornly. Takeo let out a breath but put a kiss to her head, “I promise to give you all the mutton you want tomorrow.”, which seemed to work as she left along with everyone else. Takeo motioned to Pony giving her strict orders to keep an eye on her.

With all of them gone, the wine was still poured, and the festivities grew less fast and more languid. It took a good ten minutes before you noticed that Eijiro had been more than just kissing your neck. He had an ulterior motive that you quickly noticed. You ran a hand through his hair as you turned to look at him. “Eijiro…” your voice was soft as you spoke to him, feeling his hot tongue swipe against the bite mark he gave you earlier making you feel weak.

“It’s midnight.” He let out lowly, a low ache coming between your legs. “And I’ve been aching for you ever since you put on this skirt.” He growled as he put an arm around you, pulling you closer towards him, making you chuckle.

You felt his sharp teeth pierce your skin again, his hot tongue dragging over your sensitive flesh. You bit back a whimper as you turned to look at him. His heated red eyes on you and you alone, pupils big. “I see.” You cupped the side of his face. You nodded your head, answering his silent question.

Getting the go ahead from you, Eijiro kissed you, deeply. His tongue instantly infiltrating your mouth and you couldn’t help but fight back. You could taste the wine on his lips and the smokey undertone of the fire inside him. You wanted him to burn you so that you could burn together in holy fire. You wrapped your arms around his neck, allowing him to pull you closer, a hand to the side of your face.

Eijiro hummed at the taste of you on his own lips, moving one hand underneath your skirt, a hand feeling your thighs, feeling every scale and exposed skin that only got hotter and hotter the higher up your legs he went. He grabbed at your ass making you groan as you dragged a hand through his hair.

Katsuki sipped on his wine, happily glad for all the free food and fruity wine he could have. However, his blissfully ignorance left as he noticed moaning next to him. He turned his head to the right, looking to the raised stone above the rest just two feet off the ground where you and Eijiro were cushioned and seated. You and Eijiro were deeply intertwined in each other’s arms, Eijiro holding you as if he was afraid someone was going to steal you away from him, your mouths against each other as he shamelessly grabbed at your body. His hands up your skirt as a glimpse of your inner thighs was flashed to Katsuki.

Katsuki spat out his wine as he choked for a second. Takeo cautiously pat his back, in an effort to help the blond. Katsuki beat against his bare chest with his fist, clearing his throat before turning to look back at the both of you. You both clearly didn’t notice the temporarily close to death barbarian on the pillow.

Takeo tilted his head in confusion. “Are you okay, Katsuki?”

Katsuki looked to the giant dragon in surprise before looking to the both of you. He motioned to you and Eijiro. “Is no one else noticing that or have I had too much fucking wine?”

Takeo looked to you and Eijiro before chuckling. “Oh them? They’re just consummating their marriage.” He spoke nonchalantly as Eijiro carefully pushed you down onto the cushions.

Katsuki’s crimson eyes widened in disbelief. “In front of everyone?” He asked in shock.

Takeo nodded with a smile on his face. “Of course. Where else would they do it?” He shrugged as he moved to take another sip of wine. He noticed Katsuki’s still distraught face and heavy blush on his face as he tried to ignore you and the redheaded dragon. Takeo put an arm around the blond. “Don’t worry. It’s a very look forward to event of the wedding celebrations. Not to brag,” Takeo started as he put a hand to his chest. “But at my wedding, you could hear Yua’s screams from the top of the summit.” He claimed with a proud smile.

A swat came to his bicep from his wife. The chief of dragons let out a whine with a pout as he rubbed his arm. Yua pointed at him with a glare, a slight pink to her cheeks. “Now’s not about you.”

Eijiro moved his sharp nails to the cloth that covered your chest. Without much feat, he tore the tight piece of cloth in two, exposing your chest to the nighttime air and watchful eyes. Carefully, his mouth moved from your neck down to your chest, taking a nipple into his mouth. You let out a keen as you felt his hot tongue on a sensitive area. You had to hand it to Eijiro that if there was one thing, he always knew how to pleasure you.

You almost didn’t notice the way his fingers prodded and moved up and down your slit. You gripped him tighter, closer to you. You opened your eyes, looking past Eijiro for just a second, at everyone who was watching you. Your community, the people who you loved and cherished, all watching as your drake was about to claim you. You couldn’t help but spread your legs, signalling to Eijiro that you wanted his fingers already inside you.

A thick finger moved to push inside you making you gasp and arch your back temporarily. You sucked in a breath as a small whine left your mouth. Eijiro smirked at the feeling of your sex wrapped around his fingers. A deep chuckle rumbled out of his chest, as he let go of your nipple and smirked at you. “You stretched yourself out before hand?” He asked amusedly.

You shrugged with a smile. “I tried.” You spoke softly. “I don’t know if it did any good.”

“It did much good.” He added another one of his thick fingers inside you. This wouldn’t be the first time you and Eijiro had sex. Dragons were never much like human customs of waiting till marriage. On the contrary, dragons encouraged sex. It was a prolific act that showed the closeness you had to your partner and the bond the two of you shared. It was a display of affection and a show of two being becoming one. It was passionate and beautiful in its own way.

Like right now, with you and Eijiro peeling the clothes off one another. You were both careful of your wings and tails that you had left in your more human forms just for this occasion. Eijiro let your moans fill the air, opting to kiss your neck so that everyone could hear your voice. Your voice that now was his as he was yours. He shifted your skirt up to better stretch you out without the thing in the way.

“Eijiro take the skirt off!” Katsuki whipped his head to look at Takeo who had just blurted that out. “It’s not going to make your job any easier.” The statement brought chuckles all around. Shouts in support of Takeo’s statement and other’s in rebuttal filled the air.

Eijiro’s ruby eyes snapped over to his father with a growl. “I’m keeping it on.” He said insistently, making another round of chuckles fill the air at his tone. He liked you with the skirt. It was a symbol of your commitment to his family, a commitment to him. He couldn’t help but find it arousing.

You knew you didn’t need much stretching right now, mostly because a draikana was built to take a drake much easier than any other species. You whimpered looking up at Eijiro, trying to convince him to stop and just fuck you already.

Eijiro let out a low rumble out of his chest moving to rip off his pants as you moved on the cushions to lay on your stomach on your front, moving your hips up for better access for him.

Eijiro looked down at you, presenting all for him. All on display before him. Eijiro put a clawed hand on your ass allowing him access to see your sex. A growl out of his chest at the sight of you. You lowered yourself down on the pillows wiggling your ass as you lifted your tail up easier. A sort of low shuffle almost like dance to try and seduce the drake into fucking you.

You knew Eijiro was perfect for you. He was big and strong, and just looking at him bare and ready for you, with a large thick ribbed leaking cock, you couldn’t help but know it was true. Carefully Eijiro guided his cock inside you. You gasped as you felt him slide inside you. Nothing could beat a dragons cock. Thick and huge, a low red with ridges on the underside that caused more pleasure to the draikana and allowed the two of them to slot together almost perfectly.

You keened at the feeling of his cock pushed inside you. Eijiro closed his eyes with a groan at the feeling of your sex wrapped around him and massaging his cock. He hummed, a low growl out of the back of his throat, as he slowly opened his eyes to look back down at you. He put his hands on down on your ass as he slowly thrust back and forth. A filthy moan stumbled out of your mouth at the feeling of his cock grinding against the walls of your cunt.

It felt amazing having him inside you, and you couldn’t deny that once you had the feeling of pleasure rushing through your body, you couldn’t get enough of him. The slap of his pelvis against your ass urged you to try and match his thrusts as best as you could, a purr rumbling out of your chest in pure bliss. You buried your face in the pillows, your eyes closed in pleasure as you fucked yourself back on his cock.

Eijiro let out a low growl. His pupils slowly turned to slits as his only focus was on pounding into you. Low grunts and growl were the only thing leaving his mouth as the only instinctual purpose that went through him was breeding you. His pace fastened as he saw fit, grabbing at your head and forcing your face up off the pillows so that everyone could hear your moans. It didn’t help that the sharp thrust that went into you hit that spot inside you that had you trying to close your legs and mewling. Eijiro loved your sounds. Your sounds meant that everybody could hear you, could hear how well he was fucking you, how he was treating you.

The two of you were one. You were together, connected in such an intimate and innate way. Nothing could replace this. The joining of the both of you and the creation of something special.

“Come on, Eijiro!”

“You can go harder than that!”

“Y/N, you lucky girl!”

Cheers and shouts of encouragement reached your ears which only made your sex tighten around Eijiro as you felt heat travel up your neck. You whined in slight embarrassment, but Eijiro made sure that any time you tried to hide your moans, he pulled you up off the pillows.

Katsuki was frozen in his seat. Part of him was wondering what on earth he was doing there and why on earth he was subjected to such torture. Such torture of your whorish moans and Eijiro's grip on you. You were pressed down in front of him, your body was jostling, your breasts jiggling as your ass slapped against his pelvis as he fucked you. Katsuki wanted to look away, he wanted to save himself the boner and sexual frustration of having to endure all of this.

 “Katsuki.” The blond nearly jumped out of his skin as Mina appeared behind him with a bowl. The barbarian looked down to the huge bowl that was filled with… blood? Katsuki sat up at the bowl he was being offered. Mina chuckled noticing his confusion. “This is the blood of the community. Everyone puts their blood in and at the end of the consummation its put over the newlywed couple as a form of solidarity to them.” Mina explained.

That's when he noticed the open cut on her thumb that was there. Katsuki wondered how heavy that bowl was, but then he noticed other dragons around the guests carrying other bowls as well, working in the shadows while everyone else seemed to enjoy the spectacle that was you and Eijiro’s erotic display.

Katsuki sat up as he took the knife and cut open his thumb with little hesitation. He put his hand over the bowl allowing blood to drip out of his thumb. He shook his head with a tsk. “Dragons and their obsession with blood.” He let out with a grunt. “You sure have such vivid traditions.”

Mina chuckled as she tilted her head to the side, curly pink hair moving to the side as she did so. Her golden eyes moved down to Katsuki's lap with an amused smirk before giggling. “You sure look like you’re enjoying them though, Katsuki.” She pointed out. Katsuki stiffened with a huff as his ears turned pink, his already flushed face formed a scowl making Mina giggle. Katsuki glared at her making Mina laugh. “Don't worry. Everyone gets riled up by these things, but once the bride and groom are gone, you're gonna love the after party.” She winked.

“And what makes you say that?” He asked not convinced.

She stood up with the bowl in her hands, finished with Katsuki. She winked down at him. “I'll make sure you do.”

You wailed as you came around Eijiro's cock. A shiver went through you as your eyes rolled back and you pushed back against him in eagerness. Eijiro was relentless and the humanity gone out of his eyes as the beast that raged in his heart and mind was in control. His grip on you was hard as he made fast pace in pounding into you, his strokes hitting that part inside you that had you squeezing him like your life depended on it.

Eijiro leaned forward, moving to put his hands to grip the pillows underneath you as he put his chest to your back. He caged you down underneath him, and you could feel the heat radiating off his skin and scales, a comforting feeling of your new husband. Smoke puffed out of his mouth as he tried to keep control of the fire inside him. You looked back at him with a keen, moving to nuzzle your head against his. He pressed down closer to you, his pace now sharp as you felt his heavy balls slap against your cunt. Cum and slick dripped down your thighs as you pressed yourself further down mewling and begging for his release.

Every thrust inside you beat against your cervix, the slightly pointed end of his cock pressing you open so that his seed could go straight inside of you. With a final thrust, a loud growl came out of him as you shivered in ecstasy, as his dick throbbed inside you. A sob escaped you at the pain and yet undeniable pleasure of feeling the head of his cock reach into depths you had never felt before. You felt his hot load of cum spill inside you making you hum in satisfaction. Eijiro let out heavy breaths as he clung to you in earnest.

You felt him nuzzle his head between the space of your neck and your shoulder. A loving rumble coming out of his chest as he held you, sweaty hot skin against your own as he appreciated you and tried his best to comfort you. You were in such a daze that you could barely notice that celebratory cheers around you.

Eijiro moved to sit down, being quick as to sit you on his lap with you on his cock so that none of his seed could find a way out of your fertile womb. You sat in his lap, facing him with your arms wrapped around his neck as you rested your head against his chest. Eijiro held you securely to his chest with one arm, holding you against him with pride brimming out of him.

You were his wife, his draikana, his future Queen and everyone had just seen how well you could take him and how hopefully the seed inside you would become the future heir of dragons. He put kisses to the top of your head, moving his lips to your ear with soft rumbled comforting words out of him. “You did so well, Y/N. Dear Starry flame, you're so beautiful. I'm so proud and grateful of you. My wife… only mine.” He rubbed your back soothingly as you got the pleasure to lay satisfied and satiated on his lap.

“Eijiro.” Your husband looked up at his father who had blushing draikanas behind him. He had his arms folded over his chest with a raised black eyebrow but a smirk on his face. “You really couldn't let go of the skirt?” Eijiro let out a low growl making Takeo laugh. The King of dragons motioned to the draikanas, Mina included, to spill the blood collected in the grooved drains around the two of you on the stone that you were on. Takeo crouched down. “I don't blame you, it looks good on her.” He praised as he put a hand to the side of your face, making your eyes open. You looked to Takeo with a tired smile making him chuckle. “You alright, pumpkin? Hope my son didn't break you.”

You smiled and nodded your head. “I'm alright, thank you. I'm more than perfect.” You moved your head up to kiss Eijiro's chin making him puff up in pride.

Takeo smiled. “Glad to hear it. You took that breeding perfectly. Hopefully you can make us even more proud by keeping all that seed inside you, yah?” He asked with a hand to the side of your face, his large hand caring and sweet as he caressed you, almost overshadowing the implications of his word. Your face burned but you nodded your head. He chuckled as he noticed all the blood filled around the two of you. You watched as light filled Takeo's chest and with a blow, blue hot flames fell onto the blood, running along the perimeter it formed around the two of you, a ring of fire and blood. Takeo stood up clearing his throat. He turned to the guests with a serious expression. He motioned to the two of you. “Your prince and princess!” He announced causing cheers of celebration to erupt.

You looked up at Eijiro as he looked down at you. You reached up and put your noses together, tears in your eyes as you held onto each other. Married and joined as one. Eijiro giggled softly, “Sun of my life.”

You couldn’t help but reciprocate, placing your head against his beating heart. “Sun of my life.”

[cor-lapis]

I decided to have a go at doing my own redesigns because these three are my favourites and I love them very much. further notes + sources under the readmore (warning: lots of text). I did my best with the research, but if there's anything I overlooked, I'd really appreciate people letting me know :)

Tighnari:

My main source for Tighnari was this excellent thread, from which I looked up each item of clothing individually. Since djellabas tend to be quite long, and Tighnari needs mobility for forest ranger activities, I figured he would cut and re-hem the lower half. He also has a lot of clothing pieces that are traditionally multicoloured, but to keep his design cohesive I decided to use the same colours across different items, but using a larger palette of colours than I would usually. I like the bright colours on him a lot though!

There are also some minor details I just changed because I wanted to. The flower on his chest is now a nilotpala lotus, because I thought it was nice to include his acension material/the material he asks you to help gather. The dirt stains/scuff marks are because rainforests are muddy and I wanted the design to emphasise Tighnari being very practical and hands-on with his work (see also, the specimen belt).

Finally, I shrunk the magnifying glass on his back (because I'm pretty sure it's meant to be his first magnifying glass toy and that thing is very large for a child to handle) and gave him an undercut because it seemed right. Also, I merged his front and back trailing cloths into a scarf type of thing that he could wrap around his nose and mouth to prevent inhaling spores from mushrooms.

Collei:

COLLEI my beloved. I had a mild nightmare trying to figure out a specific source culture for her design, but nobody seemed to know specifics and her outfit wasn't matching with any traditional dress I looked up, so in the end decided to keep the overall look the same. Just in case I assigned her something else, but then it turned out I missed her actual inspiration.

Anyway, I made her shoes simpler (no fur, heels, and open toes in the rainforest seemed reasonable to me), and gave her shorts. I liked the green colour because it's pretty unique under a dark dress, and pairs nicely with Nahida's white dress + green undersides. Amber's tie stays, but I made most of her jewellery smaller since it felt a little clunky for a trainee ranger.

Her earring and necklace(?) are allusions to the Evil Eye and the Khmissa/Hamsa, both symbols of protection. Especially considering the fact they're meant to ward off evil, and very common across multiple MENA cultures, it seemed fitting for Collei to have them. Also, she has Eleazar scars, and I used the design for her stockings as inspiration for the combination knee braces (similar to those used for arthritis, since Eleazar also causes stiff limbs and I HC that people affected would probably still need some recovery support)/knee pads (in the case of a fall). I like the idea that Kaveh would have helped make them for her (tangent but the fic Here is the House explores similar ideas; it's really really good, I heavily recommend it). Finally, she has curly hair because I thought it would be cute.

Cyno:

Here's the thread I found for Cyno. The main critique was to do with the eras from which each aspect of his clothing drew inspiration, but I admittedly wouldn't be able to do much about this without a lot of research. One thing I did try and verify was the small strip of cloth on the left of his chest, and I found a few wall murals where the people seem to be wearing similar strips of cloth? (example here; rightmost figure) Therefore, I didn't remove it, but if someone wants to explain Ancient Egyptian clothing history to me I'd be really interested to hear it 6.6

I might iterate on the design in the future, but for now the changes are mostly HC territory. Cyno wearing his hair in locs (a protective hairstyle) makes sense for someone who does a lot of hiking after rogue scholars, and I also gave him quite old and faded top surgery scars because healthcare is canonically free in Sumeru (thanks for that information, al-Haitham)(though tbf Cyno makes bank anyway). I also adjusted the colours a bit, since Genshin tends to use desaturated shades for metallic elements.

I also considered giving Cyno more scars, but figured that it could indicate Hermanubis' presence that someone you'd expect to get injured a lot is relatively scar-free (i.e. some sort of godly healing factor/resistance to damage). However, we know next to nothing about Hermanubis, so Cyno having a lot of scars also makes sense. This paragraph is mostly just a cry for help cyno story quest 2 literally any more elaboration about the nature of Hermanubis' pact and the Temple of Silence.

Conclusion

I wasn't intending to write one when I started the explanations but this got REALLY long so if you made it this far, thank you so so much ToT please check out the links; the threads especially were a great resource, and I'm grateful that people take the time to make them <3 genshin's character design department are cowards but I'm glad I learned some new things through the redesign process

[ellieverkuasidees]

Warm Blankets!

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Bimbo!reader

a/n: it's time for me to throw my hat into the ring and finally post for my favorite type of reader! >.< def will show off my oc for this one >:)

synopsis: you and your buff manz(pluz pets!) just kinda lay there and do nothing all day ╰(▔∀▔)╯

tags: fluff, cuddling, simon proposing in a personal space because he doesn't take me as a person who'd propose in public, just overral being cute (´｡• ω •｡`)

wrds:

it was a lazy sunday. finally simon came back from his missions this week and had a lot of time to be with you. stood at the door, awaiting him. you could hear simon's loud and strong combat boots at the steps, the keys jiggling. you were basically a puppy waiting for her owner to come home. meanwhile the actually puppy wags her tail and yaps.

'shh! riley quiet! he can hear you!' you whispered at the pup, turning her head at you with confusion. 'I can already hear 'yer through the door sweets." simon chuckled through the door. you gasped, picking up riley and scooting behind the couch.

when simon stepped through the door, he saw your little my melody onesies and it's ears. 'baby i can see you.' he laughed, moving over to see you holding riley in your arms as you pout. 'simmy? HIII!!' you squealed. you set riley down as she moved forwards and leaped on his legs. he picked you up and kissed you plush lips.

oh to be home with you. a place of comfort and warmth. 'oh! wait! I have a gift for you!' you jumped off of simon as he furrowed his eyebrow. he took off his mask, scars covering his face as he smiled. riley left his side and followed you upstairs with a yap.

the both of you came back with a blanket of silks and blankets. 'okay! so, i got you a cute..wait for it! kuromi onesie! so we can match. you, me, and riley! she can be pompompurin.'

simon laughed at your adorable mind. so pliant and cute. 'you got this for me?' you nodded as you squealed and handed him the suit. usually, he'll shout at you and cut the poor thing into pieces. but just for you, and only you will he wear something like that.

'this thing? oh god..'

a few minutes later, you see the buffest and burliest kuromi ever seen. you screamed and ran up to simon as he chuckled. god forbid any of his teammates see him like this. 'is this what you wanted?' he asked.

you nodded. 'yes! ah! you look so cute! I got you kuromi because I knew you like black so I got this one for you!' how nice of you! always looking after him. never ending. 'thank you lovie, what are your plans tonight?' your eyes looked up and hummed. 'i dunno! wait! we can watch scary movies! and make like a fort pillow!'

'pillow fort hunny?' you nodded, 'yup! lemme warm up the blankets!' you swiftly left to go to the laundry room, your little slippers tapping and riley following after you as she yapped.

simon shook his head with a crooked smile as he started to pull out some chairs and nearby pillows. he couldn't wait to give you your new gift. a pretty little ring with a nice hot pink rock on top. he can't think of anyone else to come home to but you. his little angel. you were basically made for him. and he wanted to keep you forever.

'okay! i'm back! i have the blankets I want to use for the building process and others are drying okay! so! place the chairs here and-'

he wasn't listening to you. not because you were boring. more like he was just admiring you. he does it everyday. no matter where he's at. on base, duty or even at home. sleeping in the comfort of your arms and warmth, he's always thinking and admiring you.

though your brain is small, your heart was big and ready to share your love with others. you still couldnt do long division and even though keep asking and calling how the ish washer works even though you've been living on your own for years now. sometimes it scares and surprises simon how you lived so long on your own.

'are you even listening babe?' you huffed at him. he stammered and looked up at you. 'y-yeah i am.'

'good! now help me!' you moved one chair to the side and another to the back and give it a little friend as you like to call it. and simon lifted onto the other side of the fort. he drapped over a soft fuzzy white comforter and set the pillows inside, having a beautiful floor decor with a hello kitty blanket. you shoved some stuffies and a chew toy for the pup.

'oh! the blankets are done!' you swoop yourself across the house, again riley still following only lagging behind due to you being a lot faster and bigger than her. simon took out the ring, looking over his shoulder to see if you were still there. no? great. he tucked it under the pillows. he knew your dumb little brain wouldn't figure out where he placed his gift.

'simon! I need help please!' you shouted across the house. simon lifted himself up with a grunt. signally that he was coming to your rescue. when he arrived at the laundry room, he found his sweet girlfriend overwhelmed by huge pink and black blankets. riley was gnawing on one of the blankets and trying all her might to drag it back to the living room.

'I gotcha' ' simon took the weight off of you and carried the warm and fluffy blankets. he started to place some on top of the chairs and fluff them out. you were sti struggling, they were weighted blankets, you came back to see a nicely made fort by your boyfriend.

'ooh! so warm! what are we watching?' you plopped down under the fort, hugging your boyfriend's beefy arm. simon's other hand held the remote, scrolling through the catalog. 'maybe legally blonde eh? you're just like her. smart in your own way, but still a little silly' he said as he slightly tapped your head as you squished up. riley laid in between you and him. her nose was deep into the blanket, barking and growling at it. simon was starting to get worried. his smart little pup might spoil the surprise!

'riley! no! not on my clean sheets! no!' you scolded her as you picked up her small body and moved her to your right side. simon sighed, mentally of course. he was so thankful that you were dumb. if you had any sense, you'd at least ask or try to figure out what's under that pillow. 'well, yeah! i'll watch it.'

simon played the movie, the intro quickly grabbing your attention. you were basically drooling over the early to late 2000's fashion. the pink. the fits,the way they speak. gosh you just wanted to jump into ellie's world and just kiss her and be her best friend. all that going on, simon couldn't take his eyes off. your sweet smell and smile, your rosy and soft cheeks. the way you pointed out everything in that movie.

he remembers when he asked for soap how he should propose to you. he only has 10 minutes before the movie ends. maybe 30? he wasn't paying too much attention to it. soap said, ' I dunno. im single, why the hell are you askin' me?'

not much help, should've asked price before he left. damnnit. he couldn't let this soft moment go by. he needed you to be in his bed with a rock on your finger. nothing else. so maybe now? maybe after the movie? maybe-

'simon. something's poking my side can you see what's under there?' well shit..

might as well get it over with..

'okay. listen to me (reader).' you started to get worried. you knew what simon did as a job. you called it his pew pew job. very accurate if you will. 'simon you're scarin' me..' you whimpered. simon sat up, sneakily pushing the box behind his back. 'nothin' to be scared of.' he assured. 'you know I love you very much right?' you nodded, small tears swelling in your eyes, 'yeah?'

he softly placed the box in your hand. the tears started to flow even more. 'what's this?' you asked, holding the velvet box in your hand. 'I want you to be mine.' he hushed to you, his cheeks getting warm and softer, even with all the scars all over his pale face. 'what do you mean? I am yours!' you squealed.

'I want you to marry me doll..' he mumbled. your eyes opened wide, exposing the tears that have been spilling out. and all of a sudden your eyes are a fountain. you crashed your body into his chest, shaking your head yes as you wailed into his body. ' is that's a yes-'

'YES!'

a/n:it's a series now, gimme gimme GIMME YOUR IDEAS!!!!

[solargeist]

Okok here it is 1. Cw unreality stuff i guess? Like not being able to tell if you’re hallucinating 2. I know you said they scare each other but uhh they kind of psychologically horror each other it got away from me a bit

Scar figured he was finally going crazy.

It was overdue, really, with how long he had been alone. Stranded on a hostile world, left checking over his shoulder, expecting doom around every corner, it really shouldn’t have come as a surprise that he’d started seeing things. A flicker of purple, staining his periphery as he moved about his base. It disappeared the moment he whipped around to see it, and faded from view within a few seconds every time that he noticed it, but as the stain stuck for longer and longer just in the very corner of his vision, he started to worry that this might actually be the end of him.

That was dramatic, he thought, over just a flash of purple tucked away in his blind spot, something very likely just a trick of the light. He thought, until he started monologuing to this violet cataract, started feeling the weight of eyes on his back. He’d cook more than he had planned to and leave plates out, disobeying the strict rations he had set for himself (because that was all he had to feed, himself, no one else). He had full conversations with an empty room, holding that violet smudge in the corner of his eye like a match cupped in shaking hands against a howling wind. The plates always ended up empty. He wasn’t sure who ate them. He couldn’t remember.

Time went on. Things got worse. He saw purple even when he wasn’t trying, still fading the moment he tried to pull it from his periphery, but still hiding there, by his cupboards and corners and closets, in every space that he wasn’t looking. He clung to it— sometimes it would leave for hours on end, he didn’t notice the absences before. Now they felt like bleeding out.

It was warm that day, he remembered, that he last spoke to the stain. Not directly to it, of course— moreso at it, or around it, or through it, something like that— but he found himself talking until he was hoarse nowadays and that day was no exception. “I’ve been meaning to replace these curtains,” he informed no one, stroking the sun-soaked fabric of the window between his thumb and forefinger as the shape behind him watched from the countertop. “I used to have boats on my curtains. My brother had spaceships. I was so jealous. It seemed so important then.” He let go of the curtain, letting his hand fall to the side. “I hope he’s okay. My brother. I keep hoping— I think he got off-world in time, before the transporter system broke down. They said on the radio, years ago, they’d come back for us. The scientists, not my brother.” He turned his head just slightly, catching the blurred shape in his vision as it leaned towards him. He wasn’t sure if it was genuine interest or just a bored shift. “No, the scientists said they’d get emergency transporters in place in a few months, so maybe he caught one of those, him and mom. Then again, the radios went down before the project was done, so. Not sure if they ever went through with it, if they decided we were a lost cause. I’m still here, I guess, just… waiting. For rescue, I think. Hopefully whatever it is I’m waiting for will come soon because I—“

He turned his eyed a degree too far. The shape that had grown so clear and close to him vanished like a candle blown out. He was in his kitchen. He was alone. A cupboard made bare by greedy hands and spiders, something was wrong, something was missing. He didn’t used to feel this bad about being alone, didn’t he? He had been alone before, had it really been this bad?

He figured he was finally going crazy.

Scar didn’t talk to the spot in his peripheral vision after that. He saw it and he looked away. He turned the lights out that night, all of them, hoping desperately that the darkness couldn’t trick him the way the light did. Still, his room illuminated in purple glow. He covered the mirror in the bathroom despite knowing that just behind his reflection lurked something that was not real and was not there. He closed his eyes and saw purple, purple, purple.

Tonight felt different, somehow, like fallen dew rather than ceaseless fog. Scar took a determined breath, not with less energy, but energy more focused. The air, now that he was just above the tree-line, seemed to breathe with him in powerful and controlled movements. The lights were on below him. Normally he wasn’t one to waste power, but he was facing this thing tonight if it killed him, and if it killed him, it wouldn’t really matter if he left the fridge open and the oven preheated. One more deep breath.

He found the spot in his peripheral as easily as breathing. It tried to flicker. He didn’t let it. A fraction of a degree at a time, he dragged his eye towards it, somehow forgetting its small, humanoid shape even as it lingered on in the center of his vision, form held together with spiderwebs and moth wings. Scar’s eyes burned but he didn’t dare blink. He could see them. A short, humanoid shape radiating purple and purple and purple. It was the inverse of blinding, nearly drowned out by its own afterimage, a bruise of light covering what Scar was certain was its face although he had to check a second time to make sure, the memories of what it looked like slipping past him like sand through fingers, vanishing the second he wasn’t actively thinking about it. He stared it straight in its eyes, or, where he thought its eyes should be, or, where he had already been staring and now could not remember why. He spoke, finally, for what he did not realize was the first time in a week.

“You.”

And it responded, in a voice as fragile and momentary as the wind chimes he used to keep on his porch,

“You see me?”

Or did it say, “So you can see me,” or, “I’m sorry,” or, “Was this it? Was this what you wanted? What you waited for, for so long, so very, very long?”

Or maybe it said nothing at all. Maybe he just imagined it. It had fallen through his fingers. The words were sand.

“Yes,” he answered, not remembering the question.

With a shaking hand he reached towards the bruise in his vision, palm up and terrified.

“You really shouldn’t be able to see me…” the thing muttered (but maybe didn’t), reaching forward with its own hand. Palm down, landing hesitantly on Scar’s. Their hands touched, and with the sound of glass wind chimes and an hourglass breaking in reverse, the haze shattered, reabsorbed into this newly material being like a lizard eating its own shed skin. Scar blinked. The thing, now visible and rememberable as a short, blonde man with two eyes (purple) and, in fact, an entire face typical of a person. The wings were new, though.

He looked down at their hands, still held, and dragged a thumb across the back of the man’s hand, remembering the texture; rough, but not calloused, like he maybe needed some lotion.

“How?” It asked, and this time it stuck in the world, echoing across the roof.

This time Scar didn’t answer. “Who are you?”

The man with wings hesitated. A second too long, and a new voice spoke, from no determinable source.

“Alright, sunrise, that’s enough.”

This voice shot clean through the world, a practiced arrow leaving no entry or exit wound. In fact, Scar was certain no one had spoken at all.

He looked back at the man whose hand he held. He was not there. Had he ever been there?

-🦕

OHH this was fun , i doodled bc the part abt Scar making two meals stuck out to me

[onlycrystal]

a night to remember

cw: smut (obvi), reader is a virgin, dom! toji, sub! female reader, age gap (reader is in college), reader is shy, ddlg, size kink, praise kink, tojis a lil mean andddd i think that’s it

authors note: this is my first time writing i’m so sorry if it’s bad😭

rave music blared in your ears, while at the same time, the flashing colorful lights began to hurt your eyes. you looked across the club at your friends and their boyfriends, drinking and dancing (pretty much grinding) with eachother. you sighed, mixing the ice in your diet soda with your straw. you had never been a party girl, but today was your friends 21st birthday.

“it’ll be fun, y/n! pleaseee please come,” she begged as she saw the hesitation in your eyes, but you couldn’t say no.

which led you to now. alone at the bar, developing a headache from the setting you found yourself in, and wanting to go home. it didn’t help that you were wearing a short dress too, sure it was cute, but you shamefully kept pulling it down to avoid it riding up.

you sighed and continued to sip your drink, when all of the sudden out of the corner of your eye, you catch a glimpse of someone sitting down next to you. he was definitely an older man, probably late 30s early 40s. at least 6 feet tall and buff as hell. his raven covered locks slightly covered his gaze, and he had a scar on his lip that enhanced his grin. you looked up at him, to find him already staring at you. although you were both sitting down, you still had to look up to meet the man’s gaze. he looked at you like he wanted to devour you, those green eyes looking you up and down. and that smirk, it never left his face.

“i’ll take a beer, and how bout a shot of vodka for this lovely lil’ lady?” he asked the bartender

“i-i uh… i actually don’t drink…” you said, looking down and fidgeting with your hands. oh, he was having a field day with this. you were just sooo cute <3

“that’s alright sugar, then how bout a diet coke instead?” he winked at you and you felt your face start to heat up. who was this guy?

the bartender walked away and he didn’t waste anytime. “now, what’s a lovely lil girl like you doing in a place like this alone?” his tone was playful, though you still had trouble being in his presence. he was just so intimidating. “o-oh my friends ditched me.. they’re somewhere over there.” you huffed, looking off in the direction of your friends. had they seriously forgotten about you?

the bartender came back with your drinks, handing you your drink that you immediately began drinking. “you got a name, darling?” he said, taking a gulp of his beer. “it’s uh… y/n”

“pretty.” he said, looking straight into your eyes with lust, “names toji”

“‘s nice to meet you t-toji…” you kept your gaze down, feeling his eyes never leaving you like a predator. your headache worsened, and his head tilted at you, seeing you wince in pain. “you need to go outside, doll? you ain’t looking well… i’ll come with ya”

you nodded your head meekly, beginning to stand up and wobbling slightly as you did. this was all just too much. suddenly, you felt an arm grasp at you side, pulling you close. it was toji. he walked you both outside as you shyly kept your blushing face close to his toned chest. you reached the outside and already felt yourself feeling better, breathing in the fresh air carefully.

you realized you were still snug up against his torso, when you moved away quickly. your face turned pink “s-sorry! i didn’t mean to uh… i didnt-“ he grinned looking down at you from a foot distance “it’s alright babydoll…” he brought you close again, kneeling down to match your gaze. he tucked a fray hair behind your ear and kept a hand on your face “pretty lil thing… aren’t ya?” you were frozen, his face was so close to yours and he was just so handsome… those green eyes are so entrancing, you thought. and that scar…

suddenly, he closed the gap between you two and kissed you. you felt his tongue swirl into your mouth as he bit your lip, causing you to whimper in pain and pleasure. he pulled away, “whaddya say we take this to my place, darlin’?”

you considered. your friends were already drunk off their asses and had forgotten about you. you looked at toji again. he was a very attractive man and as much as he intimidated you, he also enchanted you. you had never had such a fine guy come up to you, and he seemed nice. what’s the worse that could happen, you thought to yourself.

you looked at the ground blushing harshly and fidgeting your fingers yet again, “s-sure…” he grinned as he called you both a taxi.

————————————————————————

you arrived at his apartment, and walked in. it was far from unkempt. the kitchen was clean, and he had an organized living room with limited furniture. you didn’t know what to do with yourself, and looked at him. he was unbuttoning a couple of the buttons on his sleek shirt and looked down to see you gazing at him, looking away quickly and shyly as he caught you looking. “ah! s-sorry…” you turned the other way, hearing a deep chuckle come from behind you.

“adorable…” he muttered, as he walked behind you pressing his body against yours. you froze as he began to pepper kisses along your neck, sucking ever so slightly just enough to make you moan quietly. his grip was harsh as he laid kisses all over your body. you turned around and starting making out with him. he groaned into your lips, and his gaze angled down as he say you standing on your tippy toes wobbling in order to barely meet his lips. he chuckled and picked you up suddenly to place you on his marbled kitchen counter. your legs wrapped around his body as you both embraced harshly.

he pulled away, your lip stick had smeared on his lips, leaving him with berry marks all over his lips. “come on shorty~” he picked you up and began walking to his bedroom.

he placed you on his bed, which was made neatly and quite comfortable. he started to unbutton the rest of his shirt, and took it off. his exposed chest was toned perfectly. this man was muscular af, like he could crush you easily. he gazed at you and smirked sleezily.

“what, do you even need help undressing, lil girl?” he began walking over to you, and the height between you grew. you looked up and gulped, “no! i just…er- i…” you nervously fidgeting in your place as toji began to piece things together. he let out a booming chuckle which only further embarrassed you. “my fucking god. i landed myself a virgin, didnt i?~” that same playful tone, but you could hear the lust and desire behind it. he put his hand on your chin and forced to look up at him. “daddy’ll take care of you just fine~”

he began taking your dress off, leaving you in just a bra and panties. toji pinned you down on the bed, interlocking his fingers with you passionately as you made out with eachother sloppily. he unclipped your bra sleekly, and fondled your pretty boob in his hand while sucking on the other. you moaned in pleasure. as he continued to suck on one, his hand moved down further and slipped your panties down your legs.

“shit babygirl, all this for me?” he grinned at your wetness, causing you to blush into the pillow beside you. “nuh-uh, i wanna see you while i fuck you on my fingers.” without warning, he shoved one of his thick fingers into your hole. shit, this was enough to get you off. “toji~ hahh~” you pawed at his chest, moaning loudly. “keep making those pretty lil noises, honey”

he roughly jammed his fingers in and out of your hole, sinful noises filling the bedroom. he rubbed your clit harshly, and tears began to pool at your eyes. “hnnng! t-toji, i’m c-cumming~” his pace didn’t slow. “on my fingers, like a good girl, come on you can do it”

you cum all over his fingers, coating them in a white slick. he brings the fingers up to his mouth and sucks at them. “shit doll, i need to get a better taste of you” he licked his lips and began sloppily eating you out. the pleasure was so immense, like nothing you’ve ever felt before. this man was eating you out like it was his last meal, tongue hitting all the right spots perfectly. you felt your second orgasm forming. as you began to moan louder and louder, toji backed away from your pussy. you whimpered at the loss of pleasure, looking at him to see him fidgeting with his pants.

he let his cock spring free from his pants, and your face went white. it was like nothing you’d ever seen before, he was huge. you were kinda expecting it based off of his build in general but holy shit.

“you gonna keep staring or let me fuck you?” he asked playfully, laughing at your shocked expression.

you began to back up a little into the bed and muttered “‘m scared…”

“oh darling, there’s nothing to be scared of~ let me take care of y’a, alright?” he sat against the headboard of the bed and carried you into his lap. he kissed you again, and you began to become less scared.

you nodded meekly, and he gave you that sleezy grin of his. you could not get enough of this man. “i’ll go slow hun’, don’t wanna hurt you…” he lined up at your entrance and slowly began lowering you onto his dick. you began letting out whimpers and moans of pain, he was so big. “t-toji! hah~~ so f-full…~” you panted and tightened harshly around him. he groaned in pleasure “keep squeezing me like that darlin’ holy fuck.” you were now completely engulfing toji, legs shaking from the pleasure and arms around his neck, scratching at his back. tears formed in your eyes as your whimpers grew louder. “d-daddy, i-it hurts~”

“you’re okay, kid.” he continued groaning as he slowly began bouncing you up and down on his dick. “fuck, you feel so good princess~” you moaned and squeezed your eyes shut as his pace quickened. however, it was starting to feel a lot better. the pleasure was like nothing you had ever encounter “f-fuck toji~ ‘m close!!” he continued to bounce you up and down as his grip against your hips tightened and his pace quickened. “already princess? you can hang on a lil’ - fuck - longer for daddy.” he let out low moans in your eyes which sent butterflies straight down to your pussy. you whimpered directly in his ear as you fought back your orgasm for him. “toji p-please~” he looked into your eyes “come on my cock princess~ gonna fill you up so good, you want daddy’s cum? yeah you want it?” he chuckled at you, but you didn’t care. nothing mattered to you, you needed a release. your moans loudened as you came all over his dick, a white slick glistening on his abs. “fuck, ah~” toji moaned lowly as he came inside you. you fell onto his chest, so mind-fucked.

“t-that was…” you panted, out of breath against his chest. “i’d say the same, princess” he winked at you and smiled. “let’s get you cleaned up, k?”

GUYS this is my first time writing anything like this i’m sorry if it’s very bad. also send me requests if you want!