#WITH ONLY ONE OR TWO SWINGS OF HIS BLADE

[keikakudori]

did you think you could simply bury me under superior numbers and brute strength? HOW NAIVE.

personals do not reblog.

requested by @godkilller

[aeyumicore]

misty invasion - hidden motive

━ .ᐟ✧ PAIRING: zayne x female reader (afab)

━ ✧.˖ GENRE: smut, porn with some/little plot, porn with feelings

━ .ᐟ✧ WORD COUNT: 3.6k

━ ✧.˖ WARNINGS: mdni, explicit sexual content, slight spoilers to ‘hidden motive’ (zayne’s misty invasion card), knee humping, titty sucking, titty sucking through clothes, titty nibbling (zayne is a boobie fiend), slight predator and prey, switch!zayne (he’s dom but kinda needy and vulnerable), use of Y/N, sub!reader, unprotected sex, cumming in panties, reader on top

━ .ᐟ✧ LINKS: video | ao3 | sylus's version | raf's version | xav's version

━ ✧.˖ A/N: haiiii guyssss i decided to upload the boys’ misty invasion fics one at a time! first up is baby zayne <3 his card inspired me so much, it was so intimate and passionate. 

next up will probably be sylus, hopefully will post in maybe 3ish days! I haven’t watched raf’s or xav’s but i have ideas for them. I’m excited to write, i’m praying i don’t burn out…hope you guys enjoy :) love ya’ll! also i am more active on twitter if you guys would like to follow me there, my link is in my masterpost!

THIS IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT. I WILL NEVER POST MY FICS ON OTHER TUMBLR BLOGS. I WILL ONLY POST ON THIS ACCOUNT AND ON AO3.

✦ . ˖ ✧ .ᐟ ˖ nsfw | minors dni | 18+ only | minors dni | nsfw ✦ . ˖ ✧ .ᐟ ˖

Spontaneity was not something Zayne preferred to indulge in.

He had enough of it in his hectic surgery schedule, so in his personal life he tried to keep things as predictable as possible. 

Yet he was graced with an absolute menace of a girlfriend, who, from the second she walked into his life, created chaos in her wake. Always running off on faraway Hunter missions, telling him only after she’d already left. Coming back injured, with a frustratingly adorable and sheepish smile, trying, and failing, to convince him she was fine. 

God, you drove him utterly insane.

Which is why now, the normally composed, self-assured, and controlled, chief cardiac surgeon was unraveling at the seams beneath your seemingly innocent touch.

“Why does it smell sweeter than usual?” Zayne’s voice is raspy and breathless from the torrid and heated kiss the two of you had just been locked in. The razor blade and shaving cream had long since been discarded and forgotten. 

Before you can respond, he’s pulling your wrist towards his reddened face, making you fall on top of him from your seat on his lap. You’re left straddling his one knee as you fall forward. Your wrist grips the leather recliner cushion by his head to catch you as he cups your lower back, just above your rear, pressing your body deeper into his.

He nuzzles his face into your wrist that's planted beside his head, absolutely enraptured by the scent of your lotion. The scent of you. 

Taking another deef lung full of your pheromones mixed with your fruity lotion, his intense hazel eyes desperately seek yours, like he’s conveying his desires with the golden green orbs. You open your mouth to question his unusual behavior, but Zayne’s one step ahead of you. His knee raises to push your backside towards him, making you lose your grip completely and collapse completely atop him. 

The recliner chair swings wildly at your combined movements, and you find yourself struggling to steady yourself. In your brief moment of helplessness, Zayne hoists you towards him, burying his face into your chest. His lips find your collarbone instantly, his knee nestled between your thighs to help balance you. 

You gasp at his tongue lapping languidly at your fragrant skin, your fingers grasping his shoulders as he sucks at your sensitive collar, no doubt leaving a bruise. His lips dance dangerously close to where your silk camisole hangs off the swell of your breasts. 

“Are you taking a break from work?” you ask between your raspy pants. Zayne continues to indulge in your skin, moving lower until his face meets your hardened nipples, separated only by a thin layer of silk. His tongue softly brushes against the soft material of your top, stroking at the swollen peaks through the smooth fabric. His knee grinds into your thighs, craving the warmth and dampness of his most favorite place.

He has to physically pry himself away from your chest, a dusting of deep peach painting his flustered face.

“Do I look like I can work right now?” His question is simple, but the aggressive demand that hides underneath them is urgent, nearly feral. You don’t get a chance to get another word out before he’s sinking back into the warmth of your chest.

This time, his lips close over your entire nipple through the soft silk of your sleeping cami, making you cry out in surprise. Your fingers grip his hair as he absolutely devours you through your top, the silk dampening with his saliva. His teeth come down to graze your sensitive peaks and you have to push him back before you lose yourself to the pleasure.

“...You don’t have to be so intense,” you urge him, despite the clear and inarguable fact that you want more. Clear from the way the panties you’d slept in start to dampen against his bare knee that peeks out from his robe. 

Zayne looks unamused, almost sulky, as he mutters, “No working, and not allowed to do anything else…” He looks up at you, mischief briefly flashing across his eyes

He sits up, wrapping his strong arm around your shoulder and bringing you to him in an intimate embrace. You flail forward at his sudden movements, the rocking of the recliner chair making it impossible to find any balance. He takes the opportunity to drive his knee deeper into your core, making you moan lewdly. His chin rests on your bare shoulder, words hot and breathy against your pulsing neck, “Well then…my love, what exactly do you allow me to do?” 

His actions make it difficult for you to speak, brain focussing solely on the pleasure he’s both giving you and keeping from you. At your wordless moans of excitement, Zayne continues.  

“Will you allow me to do this?” he rocks his knee deeper into you, effectively humping you against his leg. Your nails dig into his muscled back at the unexpected ecstasy, his knee rubbing against your clit in the most sinfully perfect ways. 

Zayne hisses at the feeling of the sting of your nails, only making him more desperate to take you right there on his living room chair, “I’ll take that as a yes.”

With his lips at your neck, he slowly and torturously pulls the flimsy straps of your loose top down, until your breasts are pressing against his exposed chest underneath his luxurious bathrobe. 

His hands descend to hold your waist firmly, gently pulling you away from his chest so his hungry mouth can find your soft breasts again. 

You throw your head backwards when his warm and wet mouth captures your bare skin into its embrace. Zayne is absolutely relentless, bouncing you filthily on his thigh as he absolutely devours your breasts. His teeth and tongue work in tandem to suckle pretty little bruises into the swell of your chest, and around your pert nipples. 

Zayne looks up at you from underneath his eyelashes, heated irises drinking in your quivering form atop him. His erection pushes against the feeble restraints of his tied robe, creating a tent in his lap that twitches with anticipation. It brushes against your stomach as he grinds his knee into you, giving him just enough friction to need to bite into your breast to hold back his desperate moans. 

You cling to him, trusting him to take all control of your body and of your pleasure. Your nails continue to draw angry red welts into his back, as you feel the familiar coiling of ecstasy in your gut. 

You tap desperately on his shoulders, not wanting to make a mess in your panties that are already sticking to your wet folds.

“Z-Zayne, wait I —” 

He brings his thumb to your lips, pressing softly against your parted lips, all the while his own lips never leave your aching tits. Against them, he mumbles, “Don’t deny me. Please.”

You’re briefly snapped out of the mind numbing pleasure of your quickly approaching orgasm at the sound of his plea, bordering on a feral demand. It’s so rare to hear him so unraveled and desperate, to hear him demanding things from you. A man who never asked anything of anyone, especially not of you, the one person he treasured more than life itself. It’s so rare and raw that you can’t help but want to give him everything he wants. 

You bury your face into the top of his head, his addicting scent invading your senses, and you kiss him gently, “Never, I would never deny you.”

Zayne inhales sharply, groaning at your sweet words, ”Good girl.” He pulls you down fully on top of him again, the leather chair reclining until it’s nearly flat. Your ass is arched into the air, your face pressed into his chest, as his knee pushes into you with renewed vigor. 

His lips find themselves sucking urgently at your nipples again, his knee moving faster, wanting to see his beautiful girl come undone all over his thighs. His tongue lathers tortuous circles around your hardened and swollen peaks, soothing the areas in which his teeth bite down softly. 

“Let me see you, love. Please. I haven’t gotten to feel you since you ran off into danger without telling me, again.”

Your heart clenched as you realized that was where all this desperation and vulnerability was coming from. You want to apologize, but his unforgiving knee against your weeping cunt made it nearly impossible to get the syllables out.

“I-I’m – nnghh – m’sorry.” 

His hand roughly grabs your chin, turning you to level with his smoldering hazel eyes. His voice is gruff and inquisitive, eyebrows raised in doubt, “Are you, sweetheart?”

You whine at his words, his actions only becoming more relentless, as if forcing the responses he wants out of you, “I am!”

The corner of his lips curl up, so faint you can barely see it. An arrogance Zayne so rarely lets show. 

“Then show me. Show me how sorry you are.” With each demand, his leg drives harshly into your clit. You nod vigorously, eager to please him.

His darkened green eyes cling to yours, his voice deceptively calm and soothing, “Say it, love.” 

You want to respond but the way he’s punctuating his every word with a hard intentional thrust of his knee into your aching cunt makes it impossible to do anything but moan lewdly into his ear, your head hanging down with your hair falling over your eyes.

He pinches your abused nipple, guiding your eyes back to his demanding hazel ones, the golden flecks glowing brightly as they savor the sight of you.

“I-I’m – unghh – s-sorry. Should’ve told you. I’ll be good, just-just let me cum f’you!” You bury your face into his neck, embarrassed by the words coming out of your mouth but unable to stop them all the same. 

“Let me see you,” he grunts. When you lift your head, bleary eyes fixing on his, he smiles. It's faint but effervescently warm. 

“That’s my girl. Now tell me, hm? How is my beautiful girl going to make it up to me?”

Your eyes fill with tears, overwhelmed by the pleasure his knee brings you, and the raw feelings that are masked behind his lewd words. His facade of filthy demands that hide the suffocating emotions, the same emotions he’d felt when he saw your name on the list of hunters dispatched to the wanderer quarantine zone. Emotions that he was now taking out on your ever-so responsive body. 

“Anything you want Zayne, anything,” you gasp, your eyes locked into his as he continues to hump his knee into you, 

His breath catches audibly at your words, pulling your chin towards him to capture your lips in a raw and passionate kiss, one that felt like it might stop time and space as you knew it. 

At his intensely possessive lips, his throaty demands, his insistent knee wedged into your cunt, it isn’t long before you come undone all over his knee. You cum with a strangled cry, your fingers digging crescents into his muscled shoulders. Your eyes squeeze shut at the feeling of the filthy dampness against the fabric of your panties. Zayne groans at the angelic sight of your face contorted into pure pleasure, his erection painfully hard against his silken robe, pressed into your quivering belly. The heavenly vision of you cumming was almost enough to have him erupting right against your stomach.

“That’s it my love, just like that,” Zayne coos as you cum over his knee, still rocking gently into you as he helps you ride out the waves of your ecstasy. His slender fingers rub soothing circles into the small of your back, cooling your burning skin. 

“So good, so good for me,” he murmurs into your hair, your head resting on his shoulders as the post-orgasm tremors come and go. His lips press into your scalp, the moment feeling absolutely  and idyllically perfect. 

You’re so blissed out you almost don’t feel him shifting beneath you, slender fingers pulling your soaked panties to the side. It isn’t until you feel the all-too familiar feeling of his fat leaking cockhead nestled between your folds, right at the entrance to your most sensitive parts, that your bleary eyes open.

You watch him, cock in his fist, swiping up and down your drenched lips, head hung down in pleasure as he watches the way your pussy quite literally invites him in. A thin layer of sweat glistens on his furrowed forehead, his restraint hanging on by a thread as he tries to calm himself before he burrows into you like an absolute animal. 

You grab him by his chin, guiding him to look up at you. You take his throbbing manhood into your own fingers, in place of his. He stares at you heatedly, your languid actions driving him to the edge of insanity. Your body quivers as his cockhead catches on your clit, your body still reeling from the orgasm you’d just experienced on his knee. 

Zayne’s hand encompasses yours, your joined palms holding his aching cock at the base. He repeats his plea from earlier, his voice raspy and breathless, “Show me.” 

His desperation makes you bite your lip in anticipation, and you nod before sinking down onto his thick member. Your body grapples with the stretch as you slide further and further down, as Zayne writhes below you, panting rapidly and fingers digging into your waist. 

“You’re so damn perfect,” he rasps, fingers bruising your hips with the intensity in which they grab you, “Give me more, please love.”

You grin at his rare pleas, teasing him by stopping halfway, not letting him enter you fully. His desperate moans and grunts make you giggle, and you relish in the way his large hands hold you so possessively, in the way only you are able to make him lose control.

Zayne chuckles darkly at your teasing antics, “You don’t sound very apologetic, sweetheart.” He raises his eyebrow at you, in a playful warning. You open your mouth to speak, but it’s cut off with a scream when he slams you down on his thick length, his strong grip pulling you down until your ass meets his thighs. 

The impact of your thighs against Zayne’s lap is sinful. Zayne groans at the way he can feel the globes of your ass shake against him, your pussy clenching to accommodate the sudden stretch. And Zayne doesn’t even let you ride him, instead using the raw strength of his arms and thighs to bob you up and down his length, in a rhythm that had you seeing white.

“Nnghh – P-Please Zayne!” you plead, but for what you’re not even sure. You certainly don’t want him to stop or slow down. Your arms wrap around his shoulders, holding on while he bounces you like you weigh absolutely nothing. 

Zayne grunts in response, too lost in the feeling of how your walls cling to him, how your body responds to his touch and thrusts like he owns you. 

“Always — hah — throwing yourself — fuck! — into danger. Without telling me,” he grits out, his thrusts into you harsh and passionate all at the same time. You can tell by his tone that he’s more hurt than he is angry about you running off to the frontlines of a nearby wanderer quarantine. The deep timbre of his voice conveys more worry and vulnerability than it does domination and accusation. 

Your heart flutters at how adorably pouty Zayne was being, in his own way. It was rare for him to act on his emotions like this, and it reminded you of how far the two of you had come. His hands gripped you forcibly, almost as if he was afraid you’d disappear on him again. His face buried into your chest, savoring your intoxicating scent like it was the air he needed to survive. The way your warm plush skin tasted on his tongue and felt against his canines.

So you let him throw you around like a fucktoy, letting him feel how absolutely and irrevocably his, you were. You held him tightly to your chest, kissing the shell of his ear as he rutted into you like a madman, suckling on your breasts like he thought you might lactate for him. The blend of possessive domination and raw neediness was driving you insane. 

Zayne tears himself away from your chest, looking up at you with heated expectation, his eyes hazy with animalistic desire, “Nothing to say, Y/N?” He punctuates his question with a harsh thrust that prods against your g-spot, all the way to your cervix. 

You gasp out, almost choking for air, “M’sorry Zayne. I-I’ll make it up t’y-you.” His fingers grip you tighter as he relentlessly bounces you on his lap, his fat cock bullying into your g spot. Your teeth dig into your lip as you feel your cunt trembling, close to release.

Zayne nestles his face into the area where your neck meets your collarbone, gasping out as you get increasingly tighter, until it feels like he’s suffocating with pleasure.

“Let me cum in you,” he growls, moving back to your chest, nipping at the swell of your breasts, lapping at a reddened bruise he’d unwittingly left there. Zayne normally wasn’t keen on these juvenile displays of affection, leaving hickeys like a horny highschooler. But something about the way you constantly threw yourself into the face of danger for others, left him uncharacteristically uncontrollable and unrestrained. 

“Let me leave my mark in you so you know better than to go running off into danger without me again.” 

A string of whimpers escapes your mouth at his possessive yet sensitive words, clearly still miffed at the memory of your injured state after saving the pair of young siblings in the quarantine zone. Your talented, self-controlled, god-like surgeon, falling apart at the seams, for you.

It’s all enough to have you at the cusp of another mind-bending orgasm, your eyes rolling up as you try to warn him, “Z-Zayne, c-close.”

Zayne chuckles as you warn him. How adorable you were to think he needed to be told, as if he didn’t know your body like the back of his hand. That he couldn’t feel the telltale way your pussy pulsed and quivered around his cock, so tightly it threatened to break him.

“Look at me, my love. I need to see you.” He rams up into you, hands possessively on your hips, bringing you down forcefully with each upward thrust. You focus your eyes on him, eyelids hooded with an exhausted pleasure.

Through your blurry vision, you can see that Zayne is close too. His jaw ticks dangerously, teeth grit to hold the swears back. His golden emerald eyes meet yours, and he smiles, his fingers threading into the back of your head.

“Just like that, look at me when you cum,” he demands, pulling your face forward to capture your lips in a final kiss that would have you tumbling down the cliff of ecstasy. His tongue demands entry, teasing the seam of your lips. His fingers cup your face, thumb stroking your cheekbone. 

You moan into his mouth as your body succumbs to yet another orgasm, your fingernails scraping into his back. Zayne groans into you as the sting of your nails against his skin intensifies the pleasure of your pussy practically wringing his cock dry, forcing the orgasm out of him.

It’s a passionate and furious gnashing of tongue and skin, his thighs, wet with your release, pounding up into you. Your combined whimpers of pleasure mix with the wet smacks of your ass against his thighs, creating the most sinful blanket of lust-filled ecstasy in Zayne’s living room. 

His seed erupts inside you, hot, plenty, and demanding. Demanding to be inside you. Demanding to claim you. 

Zayne’s thrusts slow, but don’t stop, plugging you completely full of him. He finally pulls away from your lips, breathing heavily as goosebumps of overstimulation litter his skin. He keeps going until you tap his shoulders in surrender. He chuckles, lifting you easily off of him, removing himself from you.

Your thighs quiver as you remain seated on Zayne’s lap, his fingers rubbing delicate circles on your waist. His lips brush gentle kisses on your collar, savoring the moment of intimacy and adoration that falls over the two of you. 

Zayne shifts so that he can look at you, cupping your chin gently in his fingers.

“How are you feeling Y/N?” His deep voice is filled with concern, eyes searching yours, “Was I too…enthusiastic?”

You giggle tiredly, your voice filled with playful teasing, “Maybe a bit. But I loved it. I love you.”

Zayne chuckles, bringing your face back down to rest on his chest, his bare skin peeking through the robe that had become untied amidst all the movement. He cradles your head against his body, his arms secure and protective against you, his lips pressing kisses into the top of your head.

“Can you blame me?” He presses his lips into the space below your ear, leaving a trail of kissing down your neck and along your shoulders.

“When you’re constantly worried about the woman you love…it can leave one a bit pent up.”

His lips on your singed skin has you shivering against him, your fingers trailing up and down his chest, “And are you still…pent up?”

The corner of Zayne’s lips quirk up, the blood rushing back south as he feels you writhe against his most fleeting touches. Always so responsive to his touch.

Zayne uses one hand to guide your chin up towards him, his smile hungry and affectionate all at the same time. His other hand holds yours, and you jolt off his chest when he wraps your fingers around something wet, hot, and hard.

“You could say that.”

© aeyumicore 2024.

.ᐟ✧ THIS IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT. I WILL ONLY POST ON THIS ACCOUNT AND AO3. i am not @/aeyumicores or @/aeyumiicore or any variations of my blog name.

✧.˖ i do not permit translations or reposts of my work on tumblr, ao3, or others. please do not reuse my blogpost headers, dividers, or layouts. these are original designs of my own.

[spider-stark]

SWORN RIVALS

Benjicot Blackwood x Bracken!Reader

Summary - Taking up sparring with your sworn rival is likely never a good idea.

Warnings - barely edited, blood, implied fighting, suggestive language but no real smut, likely ooc given that the episode hasn't even aired yet lmao

Word Count - 1.1k

!MINORS DNI!

// masterlist // send me your thoughts // comments & reblogs appreciated! //

Pain splinters throughout your hand as your knuckles collide with his jaw. He stumbles backwards—just barely managing to keep himself from falling right onto his ass. 

“You fight like a girl,” you jeer, purposefully antagonizing him. “Though I suppose that’s to be expected of a Blackwood.” 

A raspy laugh rumbles through Benjicot Blackwood’s chest—a bitter, deep sound that sets your toes curling. 

“You’ve got quite a mouth on you.” Forcing his chin high, he flashes his crimson-stained teeth in a wry grin, blood dribbling from the corner of his mouth. He muses, “But perhaps we should put it to better use, don’t you think?” 

You cut your eyes at the bawdy implication. “You’re disgusting, Ben.” 

Another chuckle as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, inadvertently smearing blood along his bottom lip. The sight is entrancing—in a morbid sort of way. It glistens like pomegranate juice and, for a mere breath, you wonder if it would taste half as sweet. 

“C’mon!” Ben’s teasing tone slices through your thoughts, forcing some sense back into you. “Don’t act like you’ve never thought of it before,” he says, waving a hand between you both, “the two of us–” 

You don’t let him finish his sentence, cutting him off with a sharp glare. “I haven’t,” you practically snarl, taking a half-step towards him. “And you shouldn’t either,” you add, “I’d much prefer to be left out of your…" you blow out an exasperated breath, "depraved fantasies!” 

“Oh, but you are my depraved fantasies, sweetheart.” Ben’s grin widens as you groan, shaking your head at him. “You're also a liar, Bracken,” he adds, “and a shitty one, at that!” 

“You can believe whatever you want, Blackwood—but that won't make it true.” 

“Just admit it,” he continues. Swinging one foot forward, he takes a lazy step towards you—then another. “That’s why you train with me, isn’t it? ‘Cause you’re so desperate for someone to put you in your place—and none of those pansies along the Red Fork are fit for the task, are they?” 

You grit your teeth, knowing that his words aren’t entirely false. 

Training with Ben hadn’t necessarily been a purposeful decision. It was something that just sort of happened. Yet, in spite of the rivalry between your families, you’re willing to admit that you do prefer training with him over the Tully or Roote boys. 

He fought you like a true opponent—unlike the others, who felt the need to pull their punches or slow their own strikes, forever treating you like a helpless maiden rather than an equal. 

In many ways, you found Ben to be more tolerable than any other boy in the Riverlands, anyway. He was fierce and tough and undeniably skilled with both blade and fists, making him your ideal sparring partner. 

You still despise him, though—if only because that is what’s expected of you by your father, the Head of House Bracken. 

“Big talk from the boy who hasn’t gotten a single hit in today,” you smugly remind him. “Perhaps if you spent as much time training as you do thinking with your cock, you might actually stand a chance at victory, Benji.” 

Less than a foot-or-so of space separates the two of you when he finally stops, his grin souring like rotted fruit. 

“Don’t call me that,” he chides, his bottom lip jutting slightly. Your brow furrows, trying to discern if he’s pouting or if it’s simply swelling from when you hit him. “Besides,” Ben continues, “have you ever considered that maybe I’m just going easy on you?” 

You don’t buy his weak attempt at goading you—though you do entertain it, asking, “And why would you do that?” 

His shoulder lifts into a languid shrug. “Maybe I like it when you push me around,” he drawls, teasing. 

Another step and he’s towering over you, his chest mere inches from yours. His scent—a blend of leather and rich sandalwood—floods your nostrils, stirring your senses and leaving you dizzy. 

“Although,” Ben’s smirk returns, laden with his usual mischief, “I think I’d like you even more if you were on your knees-” 

A scoff rips from your throat, cutting him off with a rough swat to his chest. “Oh, go fuck yourself, Blackwood!” 

“Only if you’ll watch, Bracken,” he croons, mocking you. 

Every inch of your body is suddenly humming to life, an unrelenting blaze of rage—or was it desire?—setting your nerves alight. Before you can muster a response, a comeback, his fingers have closed around one of your wrists. 

“Go on,” Ben murmurs, his voice tantalizingly low. Your breath hitches as he presses your hand to his chest, feeling his pulse beat beneath your palm. “Hit me,” he dares, louder now. “Push me.” 

You don’t speak—don’t move, as those storm-cloud eyes dip once again. “Fucking do it—” 

You cut him off, fingers curling around the scarlet fabric of his tunic—you should kill him for being so crude, for acting so utterly lascivious! 

And yet, despite all logic and reason, you tug him closer. Pulling him down to your level in one swift motion, crashing your lips together in a kiss that is anything but soft. 

On instinct, your other hand slips to the back of his neck, tangling your fingers in soft, brown hair. You feel his heartbeat stutter beneath your fist, still gripping his tunic. For no more than a breath, you worry you’ve fucked this whole thing up. 

This is wrong! You scream at yourself. Wrong wrong wrong! 

But then he moves—hooking an arm around your waist, his nails sinking into your hip in an effort to bring you closer—and you loathe just how right this feels. 

Your legs tremble as his tongue slides along your lower lip, a soft moan spilling into his mouth. You feel him grin against you—can taste the blood on his lips, the bitter sweetness dancing on your tongue as he utters, “Eager, are we?” 

Tightening your grip on his hair, he hiss slips from his teeth. “Shut up.” 

He obliges—his mouth drifting from your lips to your jaw, leaving a bloody trail of kisses in his wake. You try not to think as he finally reaches your neck, earning a soft whine as he nips at your flesh. You try to forget who he is—that you’re supposed to hate him—as he shoves his leg between yours, offering you the very friction you so desperately desired. 

“This changes nothing, Benji,” you pant. 

He bristles at the nickname, letting his teeth sink deeper into your flesh, a deep bruise already blooming along your neck. “Sure." His own breathing is frantic and uneven as he rasps, “Whatever you say..” 

Your hand falls from his chest to his breeches, fingers already fumbling with the laces when you choke out, “I still think you’re disgusting, Blackwood.”

His own touch disappears beneath your tunic, fingertips trailing along every inch of your skin until his palms finally skim along your bare breasts. He gives one a rough squeeze before flashing that stupid, bloody grin of his. 

“And you’re still a liar, Bracken.”

a/n - writing fan fic for a character that hasn't even appeared on screen yet is wild. (hbo, this better be bloody ben or else I'll riot because this is perfect casting). anyway, I don't wanna be held accountable for how terrible, short, and rushed this is (I was bored and didn't feel like putting more effort into this than necessary rn) OR how wildly ooc this will likely prove to be come Sunday.

also---turns out that writing without actually knowing the character is hard! who'd have thunk, am I right?

[sh1-n0bu]

♡︎ 𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙪𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙙 ♡︎

characters: AFAB!sub!jing yuan, dan heng, blade x gn!dom!reader

warnings: AFAB characters, overstimulation, headcannon+small drabble format, praise, degrading, cock/strap traditions, dacryphilia, usage of bullet vibrator, slight brat taming, nipple stimulation, fingering, oral, cervix fucking, begging, squirting, clit pinching, cock/strap warming, size kink, belly bulge, breeding, creampie, mating press, full nelson, just a personal headcannon of how i think they would act when overstimulated

notes: someone wrote “nobody writes ahegao quite like nobu does” in one of their repost tags and im fucking shitting tears😭😭

the giggler

jing yuan loves to be overstimulated. he loves the feeling of it, the adrenaline rush, the high, the feeling of finally cumming all over your fingers, tongue, strap whatever it may be and the feeling of you continuing to move, drawing out his orgasm while also driving him into an overstimulated mess

has the cutest giggles and laughs when he gets too much pleasure. he doesn’t even try to hide or won’t even try to hide it. why would he when you were making him feel so good over and over again? hell, he even wants other people to hear it, to remind them that you were his lover and only his. and how only he gets to feel the overwhelming amount of pleasure only you can bring to him and no one else

but, it comes with a catch. he needs a lot of foreplay and/or teasing and/or orgasm denial for him to finally cave in and shake his head before starting to blabber incoherent shit about how good your cock feels inside his gushing pussy, how he could feel your tip fucking his cervix, how he wanted you to fuck a baby inside him etc etc

and i mean a LOT of it

as a centuries old war hardened general, it’s safe to say that he had gotten used to some feelings and emotions. pleasure being one of them

so if you want to get him to break and to become absolutely dumb and drunk on lust and pleasure, you have to tease him a lots before getting into it. if not, he will somehow find a way to outsmart you and take the reigns. he’s a bit of a brat and a spoiled prince wrapped up into one after all

will tell you what to do and how to do it if you have failed in getting him needy in your foreplay. he will fist your hair and thrust his hips into your mouth, making you unable to breath for a moment or two with his clit right at your nose. will push you down and flip your positions so he could ride your face, all the while chuckling at your cute attempt to push him back down. a goddamn brat and he will show it to the fullest when you fail at your foreplay

did i mention he was a brat? well now i have. a fucking brat to the max and he isn’t ashamed of it. will definitely question your power in the bedroom, try to overpower you and he will. he literally swings a 7000kg glaive in one hand like its nothing and he will show it by throwing you around. gently and consensually of course, he wouldn’t want to hurt his beloved

but fully expect him to be cocky and devious. “can you say no to my pretty pussy?”, “so sleepy. oh sorry, i didn’t know your cock was inside me hehe”, “was that all?” you get the gist. will shamelessly yawn in the middle of fucking not because he is sleepy or tired, but simply because he is a brat. a goddamn brat

so, how can you get him to be needy and won’t make him go into his bratty side? simple. shove a long distance controlled vibrator inside his cunt and leave it there for the whole day for him to suffer at work. but if you’re going to do that, be sure to mute the ringtone for your phone for the day since he will call you, send you messages, pictures, videos every damn hour. the closer his hour for shift ending comes, the more frequent the buzzing of your phone will become because he will grow much more needier

when finally he’s back home and frantically pawing at your pants when barely through the doors, that’s when you know he had absolutely no intention of being a brat. how can he when his whole pants were slowly getting stained from his multiple orgasms?

when he’s gladly bending himself over, arching his back for you as he wiggles his hips, he will ask you to come inside. jing yuan is great with kids and such a huge family man, he will ask you over and over repeatedly to breed him. cum inside him, fill up his cute dripping cunt, put him in whatever position you want and make sure to breed his pretty cunt, you can finally raise your own family together!

remember the long distance controlled vibrator i mentioned? make sure to keep it on and buzzing inside his cunt at all times when he’s away at work, or else it won’t work. during meetings or report hearings, jing yuan had to leave to the bathroom a lot of times and it genuinely got his subordinates concerned for his health. the red face, the heavy breathing and sometimes, the jolts of his body or the bleeding bruised lips of his made the cloud knights worry and some even suggested for him to leave the seat of divine foresight early to look after his health. if only they knew just how their dearest general was pathetically biting on his hand to muffle his screams in the bathroom as he squirted all over himself

“[naaammeee], ‘m mmgh♡︎! aaaaangh haah mngck♡︎♡︎ i-i’m home!” jing yuan’s voice called out, weak mewls of pleasure slipping through as he collapsed onto the floor the moment the doors of your shared home was closed. desperately humping the floor, trying to push the vibrator deeper into his gushing pussy, your lover didn’t realize that you were leaning against the wall of the kitchen, watching him with a knowing smile. there was a wet patch growing in his usual red pants, growing more and more the further he humped the air in desperation. see? your tough brat was so easy to tame.

“you feeling okay, darling?” you call out, taking out the controlled from your pants pocket and messing with the switch. flipping it up, down, up to the highest level, before going to the lowest level. it was cute to see the ever so tough brat turn into a delirious mess from just a single small toy. all because he was being so stubborn about how you weren’t the boss of him. walking over to where he was kneeling on the floor, you reach your free hand out. tilting his head up, a thumb swiping away at the drool that was beginning to pool on his lower lip, you tilt your head to the side, asking the question again with a firm hold onto his chin.

“n-no…! no no no, not at aamgh♡︎♡︎ h-hhaaaggm not at all♡︎!” he shakes his head viciously, dragging out his words and tripping over them with moans and mewls falling in between. pathetically, he tugs on the hem of your pants, trying to get to his favorite treat, the one thing he’s been missing this whole day.

“n-need you… need you right now, need your—♡︎♡︎! need yo-our..! c-cock right now...♡︎!” jing yuan mutters between whimpers, finally, his shaky hands manage to pull down your pants and undergarments just enough to have your strap out. a needy whine falling as he places slobbering wet kisses on the tip, giving it a few licks as he flutters his lashes at you in an effort to manipulate you to give him what he was non-verbally asking.

knowing full well that he wouldn’t take no for an answer and that yanqing might come home soon, you drag him up to his feet — an action that was heavily protested against as jing yuan cries out after his favorite treat being taken away. once inside the comfort of your shared bedroom, by the time you have locked the door behind you, he was already naked. clothes messily strewn on the floor and on the bed, the many orgasm’s slick dripping down his puffy cunt to his ass and to the bedsheets eventually. you could see the light trembling of his pussy lips, an action caused by the vibrator fucking away inside him still.

turning the vibrator off, you take the toy out of his puffy cunt. jing yuan let out a drawn out mewl at the feeling, clenching around nothing as he tries to replace the empty feeling for something, anything. but seeing you starting to strip, he knew what he wanted. and he knew how he wanted it.

spreading his legs open further, his hand comes down, flicking at his enlarged clit with a jolt before spreading open his labia for you to take in how he was already so needily wet and dripping for you. a drunk giggle escaping him when the tip of your cock is right against his folds, wiggling his hips enticingly.

“[nnaameeee]~ you gotta fuck a baby in me this time, owhkayyy?♡︎♡︎ hehehe♥︎”

the crybaby

the cutest out of all three of them, in my personal opinion

he just gets overstimmed so easily and quickly, it’s adorable in the way that he brokenly begs for a moment of respite. legs shaking, smaller body jolting violently at the smallest of touches like your hand ghosting over his hardened nipples. don’t even get me started on the way he cutely squeals out loud when you pinch his clit augh

maybe it’s due to his nature as a vidyadhara and not a full human but every little touch is received with so much sensitivity and sensuality, it gets so easy to turn him into a blabbering mess in record time. push his smaller body against the wall and finger his gushing pussy while rolling your thumb over his clit. in no time, his legs are shaking as he bites your hand, his orgasm washing over him quickly and violently. but don’t just stop there, keep flicking at his clit, pinch it, tug on it, push a hand on the small bulge on his belly and he’ll be left sobbing by the second or third round

he’s noticeably smaller than the other two and it carries out into his size kink so well. he just wants to be pushed around and put into impossible, near painful positions and man-handled until he’s left a blabbering idiot

make him cockwarm you while asking him to read you a story or a book under the guise that you had a nightmare and can’t fall asleep without his soothing voice and soft cunny wrapped around your cock. at first he’ll huff and puff, saying that you’re a liar and just wants to fuck him. four or five pages in and his voice is already strained, whines coming out as hiccups and sniffles follow soon after

but just because he’s a crybaby doesn’t mean he’s an idiot. he knows how much you love his pretty steel grey eyes unfocused and hazy, brimming with tears and he will use that to his advantage. will make sure to play with his nipples or push down on the bulge in his tummy when cockwarming you so he could get teary eyed quicker. the moment he sniffles and grinds himself down on you, he knows you’re a goner and would give him what he wants

he may be a crybaby, but he’s also a goddamn minx so beware of that

tugs on your sleeve so cutely, looking at you with a flushed face and stuttered words to ask you if you wanna spend time with him in his room. today’s trailblazing expedition was too long and tiring after all, “surely you would enjoy some cuddles…?” or “i just wanted to help you patch up your wounds. i was just worried”

yeah sure, dan heng. just say that you wanna get fucked until you’re squealing out like a slut with fat tears running down your cute red cheeks. thank the aeons the express’ walls are thick and soundproof. if not, who knows the amount of noise complaint you would have gotten from everyone

has slight oral fixation. slightly. but that’s only because he wants to see you crumble and give into his non-verbal demands and just ruin him. he’s a bit too shy to ask directly after all

long serpentine tongue wrapping around your strap, pulling it into his mouth. will gag and choke so loudly with the tip of the fat dildo pushed right down his throat, hitting his uvula and choking his throat. he can complain about sore throats and pained jaws all he wants but you both know that he loves to suckle on your strap with tears filling his eyes

the most messiest cock sucker and that’s saying something bc blade is the one who has the biggest oral fixation out of the three of them. he’ll place wet kisses to the weeping tip of your cock, running the slitted snake like tongue over the weeping slit of your cock teasingly before wrapping it around your dick. loves the scent and the taste of your pre, basically addicted to it as he opens his mouth wider, slipping your cock inside the warm cavern of his mouth inch by inch

but be aware that he will also try to take advantage of this position. he will try to bat his lashes at you so he can continue suckling on your strap like he would be sucking on a lolipop, all under the guise to ‘make you happy’. when in reality, he would try to make you cum over and over to try and get you overstimulated. when in such position, just fist his hair and fuck his throat. gets him crying in no time like the crybaby he is

“… bamboo whispers in the w-wind, a secret pa-aaangh! aah aaah hmgk♡︎ a s-secret pa-act... ♡︎!“ the soothing voice of your lover drawls out into a weak sniffle, hands gripping the book filled with love poetry from his home planet tightly. so tight, you feared that he might just tear the book apart with his claws. you had crawled into his bed yet again to torment him today, the dildo hitting all the sensitive spots in his gushing cunt, dan heng couldn’t help but weakly whine when your hands around his waist tightens to not let him move.

“go on. i’m listening” you coo out, forcing him to stay still on your lap while his voice continue to drawl out. sniffles and broken pleads replacing his ever so stoic mask, a voice that is usually so cold and distant, always scolding other turning into one of mindless blabber about how badly he wanted your strap to fuck his pussy. you couldn’t help but laugh.

“is that what it says on the pages? i may be still learning the strokes but the next line seems to be the stroke for two” you point at the kanji on the book he was holding in his shaking hands, the strokes of the language seeming familiar to you. it was an easy kanji to read after all. yet not to your boyfriend it seems.

“please! p-please please move! i beg you, [n-naamee]♡︎ you gotta fuck meeh♡︎ you gotta fuck me you gotta fuck me— you have to fuck meeegck—♡︎♡︎!!” dan heng squeals, shaking thighs bucking down onto your dick, trying to gain some friction. it was enough, he had read you hundreds of love poetries from his home planet. he had been taking your pronged torture for long enough, please just fuck his cunt already!

“so impatient” you huff, putting the book away with a book marker tucked between the pages before hooking your hands under his knees. pulling him up and over until dan heng was left wailing at the sudden change in position. hooking your arms under his knees, his legs are left dangling in the air with nothing to support himself but for his hands to cling to your biceps. even then, he couldn’t hold for long as he jolts about in your arms like a hopping bunny, painting your dildo in his cum when the tip kissed his cervix.

“guuchk♥︎!! d-deep! aah ah naahmg haah t-too deep♡︎♡︎ [n-name] you’re f-fucckk fuck fuck—♡︎♥︎ fucking my cerviinxx my ceerrvv—♡︎♡︎ mngh unngya♥︎!” punched out sobs comes from his pretty lips, drawling out into whiny cries when you move him up and down. you could see the bulge in his tummy appear and disappear every little moment. every jolt, every gasp, every little whiny cry making the bulge in his tummy to get more detailed. he was so adorably small.

“‘m sorry, darling. i’m sorry, didn’t mean it. didn’t mean to fuck you this deep” you coo out apologies, lifting him just a bit so your strap won’t sink so deep to the point it would kiss his cervix. as much as you loved your crybaby gasping and writhing, you didn’t want the reason for such reaction to be pain.

claws scratching at every inch of skin he could touch, jaw slack open in a silent scream, you could barely make out his shrill yell of what appears to be your name when dan heng squirts over your cock after just a few thrusts. you could see the overflowing amount of cum just dripping down your cock, trailing down to your legs and staining the mattress. with a click of your tongue, you pinched his clit, making the shorter man sniffle with a squeal.

“‘m soowryyy… sorry sorry—♡︎ d-didn’t mean to be bad... s-soowwh uunhg hyaagk ungc gugcck—♥︎♥︎!!”

the hissy bitch

alright, so i know i’m going into territory that has been charted way too many times before by blade lovers standard but he def has piercings. on his nipples, tongue and on his clit. probably got the first three by losing a drunk bet or something or maybe he just wanted it but the last one, the clit one, is definitely his latest piercing. one that he got after his relationship with you began and he had made the sudden rash decision to get one so he could see your reaction and to feel you just messing with it while fucking him

there is a REASON why he always keeps his chest bandaged up. there is a goddamn reason and that reason is his nipple piercings and the fact that his chest is generally very sensitive im being delusional

so what does that bring and why have i specified it? simple. titty fucking. nipple stimulation. seeing his pretty big, round chest jiggle every time your cock sinks back into his dripping cunt. pinch it, roll it, tug on them, suckle on them, do anything to him with his nipple piercing and he’s scratching at your back, mauling it like an animal

the reason i see him as a hissy bitch is because he likes to throw small temper tantrums when he gets too overstimulated. he’s crying, begging, hitting your shoulders, back, scratching at them and leaving deep red scratch marks, perhaps even breaking the skin sometimes. how come blade get overstimulated quickly? because he is very touch deprived. he’s been alone and immortal for too damn long and his ass is fucking touch starved. i just know it in my bones

genuinely, he is indeed very touch starved. since his rebirth as an immortal, he had felt nothing but pain, anguish and suffering and therefore, has basically gotten immune to touches. especially the violent and bloody ones. but gentle, tender, affectionate ones? find him jumping away from your soft hands like a frightened cat, it’s goddamn heartbreaking. so when he finally gets his cunt fucked, blade would be overstimmed too fast due to receiving a sudden abundance of affection and touches

will shake his head ‘no’ when asked if you would wanna stop due to his tears. you were just concerned but blade didn’t wanted this onslaught of pleasure to stop. desperately rides your fingers, mouth, strap — anything. loves the feeling of being on top of you, gives him the slight feeling of being in control. until it all gets thrown out the window when you force him to stop bouncing, hands gripping his hips tightly as a warning. will whine and try to grind down, trying to chase that high again but will only end up with a pout and hissy tears falling down his cheeks

another one who loves the feeling of being stuffed full and overstimulated. it’s almost like he gets high from the feeling. loves having his pussy fucked in any way you please until he can’t stay on his hands or feet without shaking. it’s just so cute to see him shaking like a fawn when fucking him doggy style

prepare to have yourself used as a chew toy as well as a scratcher. blade’s almost like a cat, hissy and whiny but also so greedy and preferring certain things in certain manner. will bite at your shoulders, hands, fingers to muffle himself but also to try and get his shit together. will scratch at your back, thighs, wherever he could reach. such a spoiled brat

when eating him out, be sure to give an extra care and love to his clit piercing. constantly flicking it with your tongue would usually work though, gets his legs all shaky and jolty soon enough. maybe pair it with flicking his pierced nubs and bladie will be squirting into your mouth with an embarrassing high pitched shriek. make sure to clean up all of his mess before diving right back into his gushing cunny. he may not say it but he will expect you to go back to eating him out like he’s your last meal

has the BIGGEST oral fixation out of the three of them. like, down bad, delicious, scrumptious, sloppy oral fixation. and he is happy to give it 90% of the times due to his tongue piercing. knows how good it makes you feel and how you like to see his pretty face between your legs, sucking on the large dildo like his life depends on it. not a single thought or a single moment of choking from him, it’s almost like he doesn’t have a gag reflex

you just came back from mission, from being away from him even for a single day? unacceptable. let him bend over for you, you can get your stress out by fucking his already dripping wet pussy. too tired? that’s fine. take of your pants and get comfortable cuz’ he can stay between your legs for days

not a single minute of respite has greeted you ever since you came back from your latest mission, stepping foot into your shared home with your stoic lover. perhaps the single gentle kiss to your cheek before he started to leave slobbering wet kisses on your lips was the only warning and moment of rest you have gotten. not even shoes off yet and blade was already unbuckling your belt, giving you the puppy eyes and grumbling about how you’ve been away for too damn long. whining about how much he missed you and needed your strap to fuck him dumb. how his pretty pussy had missed you so much.

“n-nnghyaa♡︎♡︎ m-missed you... missed you s’ much, [name]! f-fuck me fuck me fuck me, fuck your favorite cunt gyyuck—♥︎♥︎ a-aaanh! haah ah ah mmngk—♡︎♥︎!!” unusually docile red eyes roll to the back of his skull, jaw going slack wide open as you push his legs up, feeling your strap hit him deeper than he thought was possible. he could feel your weight push him down, keeping it still on the bed and to stop him from wiggling his hips entirely. this new position caused his cat like pupils to widen, turning into heart shapes as you chuckle at the dazed look in his eyes.

“such a needy brat” you coo out in a condescending manner, pushing his legs up in the air with your hands hooked under his knees to keep him in place. pulling out until halfway out, you sink back into blade’s dripping cunt. a squeal tearing from his throat alongside the filthy wet squelch of his cunt tightening around your dildo. it was so easy to get him dumb.

“t-too nngh much! too muchtoomuchtoomuch♡︎! fucking m-my womb—♡︎ [n-name], y-youuwrr crush— crushing my wombgg aangh ah ah! gyyuck eengh aaangh nyaagh♥︎♥︎!!” the familiar feeling of his nails scratching at your arms takes place, tearing at the skin, clawing at any part of your body he can come in contact with. a desperate attempt to ground his already long gone mind, too deep into the throes of pleasure that he didn’t even realize his shaking hands were weakly pulling your hips to fuck deeper into his warm walls.

“don’t be so dramatic, bladie. i won’t be able to crush your womb in this position” you coo out mockingly, wiping away the fat globs of tears that continue to pour of his eyes. red and yellow eyes rolled to the back of his skull, wide open mouth letting out the most salacious squeals and shrieks of your name and how you were fucking his womb falling out. legs weakly dangling in the air, jolting and bristling at every deep thrust you fuck into his velvety walls. the lewd wet squelching noises were alongside your grunts and blade’s whiny sobs were the only noise in the room. you would probably get noise complaints the next morning due to blade’s loudmouthed blabbering self.

letting go of one of his legs, you shove your fingers into his mouth. almost as if it was an instinct, blade’s tongue wet your fingers. suckling on the two digits as it his life depended on it with the most cutest heart shaped pupils staring at you. once you deemed them wet enough, you take your fingers out of his mouth. an action that blade showed his hatred towards as his pierced tongue comes past his lips, trying to chase after your fingers.

“gghcck—♡︎♥︎♥︎♥︎!!” a sharp wail taking place as blade arches his back, his whole body shaking, soft big tits jiggling when you pinched at his pierced clit. rolling, tugging, flicking at the hardened nub as blade sobs about cumming before drenching your cock with his squirting. you had thought of him to be satisfied with it, but turns out you have underestimated your lover’s neediness when his strong scarred thighs comes to wrap around your waist, legs locked behind your back when you tried to pull out.

sigh… it’s times like this that makes you glad for your amount of stamina.

[mynameisjag]

For @ace-in-disgrace and their prompt: Danny gets mistaken as the love child of the disasters known as Wolverine and Deadpool.

Okay, it was not Danny's fault, he swears!

He was just experimenting with his ice, playing around with some of the younger yetis in the Far Frozen for fun. So shaping his ice to cover his hands to copy the paws of the others and seeing how well he could cut through solid hard frozen ice was just a game. The rough housing was to be expected, everyone tossing each other to see how far they could be thrown was fun.

Being picked up and tossed at the right exact moment a portal opened up was not fun or expected and he blamed Clockwork. The entity had to be responsible somehow for him not being able to enjoy a day of hanging out with Frostbite and the others.

Landing right in the middle of a what looked like a swat happening in an abandoned warehouse, armored people instantly aiming their rifles at him as he stood up wasn’t even surprising given his luck.

Fair though, he was currently looking more on the feral side to match his playmates then his normal ghost form.

“Hey, what’s with hostility? Can’t someone just pop in somewhere without-“, and he was shot in the shoulder, cutting his sentence off, “rude.”

It was just a regular bullet, so it was easy for his form to just…push it out and heal the hole up.

One of the men reached up to touch a device attached on his ear, “Unknown possible mutant has breached the facilities, age around 12-15, regeneration showed, animal like features-“

“You know it’s really rude to talk about someone like that to their face, no manners at all.”

“Unfortunately satirical.”

There was a crash from above as red and yellow forms busted through the glass, the guns swinging their aim at the two men landed.

“Sassiness is always welcomed!”, the red man had his own guns out and was already firing as he talked.

Danny had decided to dodge over to a pile of crates as all the attention was on the new intruders, eyes wide as an arc blood barely missed him as the one in yellow unsheathed long blades from his knuckles.

He glanced at his own hands, he couldn’t make a working gun from ice but…concentrating…he slowly watched as ice built up into copies, looking very much like it was growing from his skin.

An armored body was flung his way and he instinctual reacted…there were now two halves of a one man and he was covered in the viscera.

He froze…did he…oh…oh no…he had to go, he had to go now.

“Ope, looks like someone's first kill! Look at you Jack Frost,” the red guy with guns was now standing above him on a bigger crate, waving down at the teen, “awe, tiny puppy claws!”

Danny took a swing at the crate, watching as it collapsed and the man fell, laughing the entire time he went down.

He quickly turned to run, only to run into a wide chest where he promptly bounced off and landed ass first on the floor, “What in the-I have literally ran into steel walls softer then you.”

Claw man snorted as he reached down and picked Danny up by the scruff, “You alright kid?”

Said kid just hissed at him.

Claws was chuckling, “Cute, now put back your claws, I think it’s time for a chat.”

“Is it finally our turn for the found family and misunderstandings trope,” the red man was back and had swaggered up to the other two, an arm being thrown over his partners shoulders, “Hi, there and welcome, I’m Deadpool and this is Wolverine and we’re your new dads.”

“No.”

“No?”

Danny smiled, all sharp teeth, “No,” and promptly went invisible and intangible, escaping out of the warehouse while he could, leaving the other two behind.

He had to find a portal home.

Wade went limp, using Logan as a brace, “But I wanted to pull a ‘Batman’…”

The response was a snort and Wolverine sniffing his own hand, growling as he took the child’s scent in, “Don’t know what your talking about but, I can track him down, we probably need to before more of these fucks show up and get their hands on him.”

Hope you enjoyed it!

[jamespotterismydaddy]

Capture the Flag

luke castellan x reader

pt 2

A/N: now that i'm writing for other fandoms, feel free to let me know if you only want to be on a hotd taglist. But now, please enjoy the strongest swordsman in camp halfblood

TW: MAJOR SMUT, slight bondage, rough smut, violence, lowkey dark(ish)!luke

word count: 1,699 words

You want Luke Castellan’s head speared on your sword.

It’s like you spend every minute preparing for capture the flag because of him. He spends every last minute of each game cutting down your teammates and stealing your flag, so now it’s time to change the tactic. You ditch your father’s usual battle advice of going for the kill and hope that defence is the best offence for once. You also pray that he will guide your sword anyhow. So there you stand, guarding your flag with two of your most vicious teammates. You dodge the blue team’s first attack that was supposed to draw you off. You may have a short temper but you aren’t stupid. And you’re more than pleased to see the look of surprise on Luke’s face as he approaches.

“Fucking Ares kids.” He grumbles, sword drawn.

“Were you not expecting me, Castellan?” You ask with a vengeful smirk.

He goes right for you. You’re the biggest threat there but he likes to think you’re not even close to his skill level. You would believe that the man plans to cut you down and then your teammates. He always aims for the glory of it all.

“How’s your team gonna get our flag if you’re here?” He asks as he makes the first swing. It’s much better to start off on offence and he’s the one coming at you.

“Who cares. When you’re done, so is your team.” You block him, hating to be on defence but he’s too quick.

“Gods, you didn’t plan ahead of that? There really isn’t anything in that pretty little head of yours, is there? Other than rage of course.”

  You’re a hothead. He knows it. You know it and it doesn’t take much to rile you up. When you’re riled up, you get sloppy. At this point, you don’t care if he guts you, you go for the little fucker’s ankles. You’re actually surprised when he stumbles from blocking your attack. It’s a stupid mistake, especially for him. Though, you aren’t going to let a chance like this slip by. You keep pushing him back, trying to leave him no chance to think in between swings. He trips over a log behind him, the sword falling from his hand. He has no chance now, not on the ground and you won’t be letting him get up.

“Who’s the idiot now?” 

He looks at you as you approach slowly, taunting him. He then grabs his sword and makes a break for it. You’re too shocked to even keep him down.

What the fuck.

You don’t think you’ve ever seen Luke Castellan run from a fight. Not in your 4 years at camp. So you chase after him.

He’s fast, faster than you but you push yourself. He trails away… and away. Then you lose him. 

“Godsdamnit!” You scream into the woods as you jog around where you last saw him. 

You know you can’t stray for long if you’re not fighting Luke so you turn to make your way back to the flag. That’s when he jumps out at you with his sword swinging. You barely have time to block and it puts you off your balance. He swings at you again and again. You fall as you continue to block the merciless strikes. You’re practically holding your sword in the air and hoping for the best. The best doesn’t come as the weapon flies from your hand. He descends on you, straddling your waist as he holds the blade to your throat. He’s smirking.

“You don’t try nearly hard enough.” He says to you. “I know you’re not very clever but hades, my teammates probably already have the flag over the barrier.” 

That’s when you realize how easily you were deceived. Luke didn’t run from you because you bested him; he ran to draw you off. It was a pathetically simple plan and it worked. The heat rises to your cheeks from humiliation. He grabs your two hands and pins them above your head, his grip gentle but also firm.

“I’ll put you in your grave.” You spit out at him.

“Will you now? While I have you essentially restrained?” He’s clearly amused.

You struggle beneath him with all your force but all you manage to do is roll your hips against him, earning a groan from the man. You feel it too, the burning ache between your thighs. You want him. Worse yet, he wants you.

“Let me up.” 

“No. I think you quite like how I have you pinned to the ground.” He smirks.

“You’re delusional.”

“You’re wet.”

He slips a knee between your thighs and rubs it against your clothed pussy. It takes everything in you not to whimper.

“S-Stop.” You stutter out.

“Make me.” He murmurs, continuing to make you grind down on his knee as he leans down and forces you into a hot kiss. You hate how you kiss back, so hungry for him. Your mind is clouded with lust for a moment before you realize the advantage he is giving you. You never technically conceded.

As swiftly as you can, you wrap your free leg around his waist and use your whole strength to throw him off you, startling him enough to free your hands.

“You bitch.” He groans as you jab him in the stomach to try and give yourself enough time to grab your sword but it doesn’t work. He grabs you by the ankle and yanks hard. You slam to the ground right on your stomach. He moves to restrain you by sitting on your thighs so you can’t move your legs and holds your hands behind your back. You clearly didn’t consider how inevitably stronger he is than you.

“Shit.” You whine. His hold isn’t nearly as gentle this time.

“That was a cheap fucking shot.” He says cruelly. He’s pissed now.

“Fuck you. Castellan!” Gods it goes straight to his dick when you call him by his last name. He grips your hair with his free hand and pulls back hard so you have to look at him. You whine again at the sharp pain.

“You just can’t play fair, can you, princess? Maybe I won’t either then.”

 He drops your head and you hear him rustling with something. You realize it’s his belt when you feel the leather against your wrists. He’s binding you.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Your voice is full of rage but to him, you just sound petulant. 

 “What you need.” Is his simple answer.

He shifts down so he sits, or rather kneels, with your legs between his. He’s amused by your renewed writhing as an attempt to escape. It is pitiful really. Oh well, he’ll have you writhing for a different reason soon enough.

His fingertips glide across your waist, to your hips and then to your thighs, causing your back to arch upwards slightly, your stomach dipping. He brings his lips down to your ear, his voice is deep and lustful as he says, “Your body seems to know what it wants.”

“I’ll kill you.” You promise.

“Oh, i’m sure you will. But right now, you fucking belong to me.” He yanks on your hair again so you have to look at him and your eyes water from the pain. “I think you like me hurting you.” His other hand slips between your thighs to rub your clit and you let out a strangled moan. “For a girl who is so controlling, it’s interesting how badly you enjoy me manhandling you.”

He yanks your pants down and slips your helmet under your hips so your ass stays high in the air with your chest to the ground.

“This is fucked up.” You say.

“You love it. Your panties are soaked.” And he’s completely right. You’ve never been so turned on before but not a lot of men are as strong and good-looking as Luke Castellan.

He pulls your panties down and groans at the sight of your dripping pussy. He begins to palm himself through his pants and unzips them. “You have about three seconds to tell me if you don’t actually want this.”

You are silent and he chuckles. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.” 

Before you can even prepare yourself or form a thought, his fat cock is shoved inside of you, splitting you open.

“Ah, Luke!” You moan at the pain and pleasure.

“Gods, this is the tightest little pussy i’ve had.” He begins to fuck in and out of you relentlessly, giving you no time to adjust. “Yeah, you’re good for me now, baby. Such a good little cocksleeve.” He punctuates his last words with hard thrusts, the head of his cock bullying into you each time.

All you can do is repeat his name like a mantra as you get pounded on the forest floor by the strongest swordsman in camp. It’s even worse as he begins to rub your clit again, sending you so close to the edge.

“Never gonna have enough of you after this.” Luke murmurs as he feels you squeezing around him. “My good girl.” 

That’s what sends you tumbling over the edge, bringing Luke with you as you do. He never could’ve kept going, not with the way your walls were squeezing around him. He pulls out almost instantly so he can watch his cum spill out of you. He doesn’t wipe it. He just pulls your panties back on and fixes the both of you up. You’re thoroughly spent, he can tell by the way you pant as he releases your wrists.

“You okay?” He asks as he helps you sit up. He grabs your hands so he can kiss the marks on your wrists. After all you’ve done, that’s the act that makes you blush furiously. 

“Um, yeah.” You breathe out.

“I’ll be nicer next time, I promise. Somebody just had to put you in your place first.” He grins wolfishly.

“Next time?” 

That’s when you hear the horn. The blue team has won again.

He pecks a kiss to your cheek. “Time to claim my kleos.” He says cockily before jogging off to meet his team.

taglist (comment to be added):General: @valeskafics @urmomsgirlfriend1 @girlwith-thepearlearring @darylandbethfanforever9 @lovellies @juhdoche @papichulo120627 @watercolorskyy @ophelialaufey @aerangi

[rebelscums]

Devoted (Qimir x Padawan reader)

Rating: Angst | Acts like he’s not obsessed but he is | Light fluff

Summary: You were devoted, but no matter how hard you try, you never seem to be enough.

The fight was brutal. Each swing of a lightsaber had casted the dark night into colorful arrays of blue, yellow, green, and red.

“Master!” You yelled as you quickly stepped in front of him to take the graze of the green lightsaber that was aimed at him. Your side burned with pain, but that didn’t stop you from protecting your master.

“Go!” He used the force to push you out of the fight, “Find her!” Your master ordered you as you pushed back another Jedi by using the force.

You quickly fled the fight, knowing that he could handle himself. You focused on your task to find Mae… The person you considered a friend since she came into your life. Yet she still betrayed you… Your master… She…

She abandoned you.

That anger surged you forward as you spotted her trying to run into the dense forest.

“You were my friend!” You screamed with rage, using the force to knock down a tree in her path.

There was guilt heavy in her gaze as she looked back, but she didn’t stop in her effort to flee. She only jumped over the tree and continued on her path.

She didn’t try to explain to you why she chose to betray you and your master. She just ran from you.

Before you could follow her into the jungle, a young girl tackled you to the ground. You cried out in rage at the one who dared to stop you from confronting your friend. You struggled beneath the girl until you were able to find your footing just before she could cuff you.

You pushed who, throwing her off of you by using the force. You didn’t care that her back hit against one of the boulders, you could only hope that would stop her from attacking… Of course you were wrong. It seemed like you were wrong about a lot of things lately.

You quickly got to your feet and ignited your blue lightsaber just as she ignited hers. It was clear that she was surprised to see a lightsaber in your hands.

“Leave us alone.” You gave her a warning before protecting what was yours.

“Who did you take that from?” She spat with a righteous glare.

An uneasy feeling grew in your chest as your tears blurred the anger in your eyes, “Myself.” With a cry you rushed at the Jedi, anger filling your heart.

Saber clashed against saber as you evaded her every attack. It was clear that with each passing minute, Mae was getting farther away and your master… You dreaded the disappointment he would show you the moment you return to him empty handed… If you return.

You rolled away from the girl, using the force to push her back, but she got the best of you as you tried to get up. She used the force to send you tumbling back to the ground, your lightsaber being thrown from your hand in the fall.

With all her might ran towards you with her blade raised. Your heart stopped and you watched your life flash before your eyes, waiting for the moment her lightsaber would meet your chest but… That moment never came. It wouldn’t.

Not while he was around.

He would never allow you to die.

Not by anyone’s hands but his.

His movement was swift and fluid, gracefully done with a force of strength that had the girl scrambling to get her footing. But she was a fair fight, using two lightsabers to face your master.

They fought against one another with conviction and speed to the side that they were fighting for, but you could tell that he was running out of time. You could see it in the way the he kept glancing in the direction that Mae ran in.

You wanted to make him proud, make it easier for his mission and so you used the force to send a pillow of sand in the young Jedi’s face. It took less than a second before your master was swooping you up into his arms and leaping over the tree without any struggle.

“Where?” He demanded as he ran faster into the woods.

You closed your eyes and felt through the force. The strong attachment that you had to the force impressed your master, something that he only told you through the hum behind his mask. You tracked Mae with ease and open your eyes to tell him, “Forward. Then left.”

He slowed down and set you on the ground, “Keep up.”

“Wait! Master…” You spoke hesitantly before he could start running again.

“What is it dove?” He held his lightsaber ready to ignite it from any danger that could be heading towards us.

“Maybe we should leave while we still can?” You voiced your concerns, “She chose her side. She doesn’t want to follow this path anymore. How can we help someone who doesn’t want to be helped? We could just—ah”Before you could finish your throat was suddenly constricted by an unknown force.

He tilted his head down, a dark tint to his voice as he pulled you closer to him with the flick of his wrist and suddenly he was choking you with his bare hand, “I will have my acolyte and nothing can keep me from that.”

You struggled against his grip, “I am your padawan too.” You tried to gasp for breath.

“And you are never going to amount to anything more than that.” His words were harsh as he let go of you. You gasped for breath as he turned his back on you, “Let’s go.”

You nodded your head, a dull ache in your chest as you followed behind him.

It wasn’t too long after that you found her, his red lightsaber just missing her head by an inch. Your throat still felt sore but you had nothing to say as you stood behind your master. Your gaze felt tired, betrayed by the two people you trusted most.

Mae was quick to beg for her life, “Please forgive me master, I was weak.”

“You’ve always been weak.” He stated and you thought he would kill her or at least hurt her for her betrayal, but instead his saber sliced through her cuffs.

It made your heart ache in a form of jealousy as you took a step back to distance yourself. You felt an odd rift forming that you didn’t know how to mend.

As he lifted his light saber again, he was pulled back by Master Sol, the same master Mae was meant to kill. Who you sure was his padawan had appeared as well, the two targeting your master in two versus one battle.

Your mind was torn on helping the master who thought you to be too weak to be his acolyte or helping the girl who betrayed your trust.

Instead you chose yourself and the only other person you thought could care about you.

“Mae.” You called out her name as she attempted to flee.

“What is it?” She wondered with a confused look in her gaze.

“Did… Did Qimir bring you here?” You asked her softly despite the battle a few feet away.

“He did… I tied him up not too far from here. About ten clicks west.” Her brows furrowed even more, “Why?”

He must have a ship to get off of this planet. You thought. He could help you right? If your master didn’t want you then why were you here?

You didn’t answer her as the fight suddenly entered your direction and it was time for you and Mae to flee. Your footsteps carried you into the forest, the sound of lightsabers clashing echoed off the trees. Your master didn’t try to find you, intent on getting to Mae instead.

So you kept running with one thought in mind… Ten clicks west and he can take you far away from this place.

You were a few feet away before it felt like you couldn’t move. It was like the force tugged you back to him no matter how far you tried to run. “I can’t…” You whispered painfully out to the string that tugged you back to him, “Please.”

The feeling didn’t stop and you regretted glancing back because it only sealed your fate to him. With a frustrated cry you turned around and ran back sliding behind him just in time to block Sol’s lightsaber from connecting with his back.

“You protect him with a blue lightsaber… Why?” Sol asked in between the blows that were shared.

Because I never embraced the dark side, only him. You thought with a frown as you stared down at the color of your light saber. It mocked you, letting everyone see how you could never be his acolyte… How you could never be anything more to him than just a lovesick fool.

“I will protect him.” Always. You grit your teeth as you lunged at him again and again. Your movements were quick and delicate as you gracefully moved around Sol as if you were in a dance.

“You could be so much more than his puppet.” Master Sol tried to convince you, but it only made you angrier, “Cut your string to him.”

“I’m more than a puppet to my master! He cares for me!” You were almost yelling at him, tears of frustration filling your eyes. He is mine. I am his. He promised. You reminded yourself weakly.

“Then why would he take someone else under his wing? A master only has one padawan.” Master Sol said, “He replaced you because he could not see your potential.”

His words had you fault wrong enough for him to make his final move. You grunted as he shoved you onto the ground with the strength of his force.

“He…” Your voice broke as it trailed off into a pitiful whimper.

“He doesn’t protect you.” Sol spoke softly, “Stop fighting for him and come with me. You would make a great Jedi.”

“Do not twist her mind with useless words.” You master spoke.

It was then that Sol witnessed the fatal three stabs that were given to the padawan as your master came out victorious once again.

You craned your neck to see your master only now realizing that his helmet had be torn off from his head.

“Her allegiance to me is stronger than your former padawan.” His voice was clear, not filtered by his mask.

“Qimir…” You whispered his name just as Sol spoke.

“Jecki…” The anguish in Sol’s voice was clear as he mourned his padawan.

“Was that its name?” Qimir had asked, a cold tone to his voice. He didn’t particularly care as she was not his mission.

No, his mission voiced his name as well, “Qimir?”

“Hi.” He smiled at her with his usual bright tone that had you turning flush each time you saw him.

You thought maybe there could be something between the light conversation and jokes shared, but… You clenched your fists. Of course, it would always be her.

In only a blink of an eye Mae was in his grasp being choked while Sol’s lightsaber was directed at your neck.

“Directing your lightsaber towards an unarmed person isn’t very Jedi of you.” Qimir mused.

“Let her go.” Sol demanded, his threat was perfectly clear.

Qimir thought about it before answering, “Ah… I don’t think so.”

“She is no longer your acolyte.” Master Sol mentioned, “She has been trying to flee from your grasp, that should be answer enough.”

“She doesn’t have a choice in her life.” Qimir’s gaze darker as he looked towards Sol, “Not after she betrayed me.”

“You already have a padawan. Take her and leave Mae alone.” Sol suggested.

It made your stomach twist in knots. Was what Master Sol told me before just a lie then? A trick to throw me off guard? Your gaze darkened as you realized. He didn’t care for my wellbeing either.

“She is too soft… Too… What did you say? Too much like a Jedi to be the pupil I need. She wouldn’t make a good acolyte.” Qimir clicked his tongue at the word, but he smiled as he spoke lightly, “But she is loyal. The shining light to my darkness.” His gaze flickered towards yours, a possessive glint to them, “Aren’t you little dove?”

Your gaze fell away from his. You were tired of all the endless games. Of being used and taken advantage of by men who would toss you aside to get to their true prize... I want to go home. You thought as you stared as the small cuts on your hands.

“Why risk discovery? Why not run?” Sol questioned.

“Well…” Qimir pressed the blunt end of his lightsaber harder against Mae’s head, “I did wear a mask.”

“What do you want?” Sol wasn’t here to play any of Qimir’s games, not this time.

“Freedom.” Qimir shoved Mae to her knees painfully, “The freedom to wield my power the way I like. How I choose without having to answer to Jedi like you.” He explained.

“I want a pupil… An acolyte.” He pressed before shoving his lightsaber once again against the side of Mae’s head, “But this one went back on our deal.”

Qimir clicked his tongue with a sigh, “She exposed me. So, now I have to kill every singly last one of you…” He looked directly at Sol, “I don’t make the rules. The Jedi do. And the Jedi say I can’t exist.” It was then his gaze glanced down towards your direction, “They see my face, they all die.”

Your heart beat loudly in your chest at his words. Did that mean you as well? Would he kill you because you were too weak to be his pupil? Because you finally saw his face?

The silence was defeating, but Qimir was quick to fill the void, “Aw look at you two. Right back where you started.” He chuckled, “I should say the same about us, little dove.”

Sol pushed the light saber an inch closer to your neck. The betrayel in your eyes at both men held a thousand words that Sol would carry in his chest as he made a threat to take your life.

“I am giving you a choice. Your dove or your former acolyte.” Sol demanded.

Qimir’s gaze darkened, “Killing my dove would only destroy the Jedi code you hold so dear.” He bared his teeth.

“If it stops you… I will do what I must.” Sol pressed the lightsaber closer to your neck.

“I don’t need her. Do what you want.” He clicked his tongue and looked away from your rejected form, pitiful on the forest floor, “I came here for one thing anyways.”

Tears trailed down your face when he didn’t choose you. The rejection hurt more than the blinding heat settled near you. Of course he would choose you. Of course he would choose the girl currently frozen in his grip.

“Are you sure?” Master Sol asked one more time.

It was then that you could feel the heat of the lightsaber scorching your skin. The heat became almost unbearable as you were held in place, forbidden to move. A dark red mark appeared on your bare neck, causing you to cry out in pain.

“Fuck— Stop!” Qimir pushed Mae to the ground a stepped towards Sol with a dangerous glint in his eyes.

“Hurt her and I promise I will tear you limb from limb.” Qimir ignited his lightsaber, the red glaring against his skin menacingly, “And I always keep my promise.”

It was in that moment that his helmet began to shake and you saw a yellow beam of light ignite behind him, “Behind you!” You yelled at Qimir and he quickly sprung into action.

He faced the Jedi knight Yord with quick movements, unfazed as he grinned at his impeding victory.

“You?” Yord asked in utter disbelief. You could see the shock on his face at Qimir’s reveal.

“Me.” Qimir grinned before spinning him around and snapping his neck, tossing him to the side without any strain.

Mae fled without a second thought towards the gruesome action and you were able to roll away from Master Sol. You got up and held your ground as you watched Qimir and Sol look at one another. With an angered cry Sol charged at your master and the adrenaline of today surged towards you as you went to your master’s aid.

However, you didn’t see Osha in the forest and the feeling of electricity suddenly shot through you causing you to hit your head against one of the trees. The last thing you remembered was Qimir yelling your name before you blacked out.

It was the feeling of a steady rocking movement that brought you out of your sleep. The familiar hum of masters— Qimir’s ship left you feeling at ease as you pulled yourself out of your daze.

“Good. You’re awake.” Qimir’s voice was clear as he walked towards your bunk, “Thought I lost you there for a sec.”

“Would you even care if you did?” You muttered. It was a slip of the tongue from the pounding in your head, but you felt good saying it all the same.

“You are in my ship are you not?” He answered plainly as he placed a glass of water beside you.

You watched as he grabbed a lock of your hair and admired it between his fingertips, “I should kill you, you know? You’ve seen my face, you know who I am.” He hummed, “But I know you wouldn’t hurt me. We’re connected.”

Tears sprung to your eyes, “Why do you keep me?”

“Isn’t that obvious?” He stood in your doorway glancing back at you with a half grin.

“You’re mine.”

[tojisun]

this is an edit of my drunken thought last night but

hockey player simon is in my head right now—

thinking about how you are watching from the seats closest to the rink, and startling when he body-slams an opponent against the glass protector only for your eyes to meet his when he pulled away with a quiet snarl and snapped his head up in his anger.

he couldn’t have truly seen you, you tell yourself. he’s caught up in the middle of a game, high off his adrenaline, so you are damn sure that he didn’t really catalogue the interaction. that it was a fluke—eyes meet without the conscious awareness from the brains, you know that.

but.

riley (41) somehow began to gravitate towards your end of the rink, only slipping away for assists or to catch his mark. sure, the seat you chose was close to the ones that are angled well to the goal so perhaps that’s why he kept coming back, but there’s something electrifying at seeing the way he scans the crowd during the two-minute breaks, stopping when his eyes finally rest on you, before he skates away.

it makes your heart flutter, blood jumping as your mind runs with imaginations. you try smothering the blooming hope that maybe, just maybe, this man you idolize somehow is attracted to you. that somehow, amidst the craze and the adrenaline, you were able to leave such an imprint on him.

but the game rages on, with specgru managing to carve a tie against their opponents with mactavish (91) scoring a point. it makes the arena shake as screams and jumps erupt from your side of the rink; horns blaring as victory now seemed to be on the horizon. even the goalie, price (2), runs to mactavish, tapping his bucket, fond even in his excitement.

time runs. you swallow, parched, your eyes flicking between the screens and the rink itself as the tension reached new heights. your friend holds your hand, her nails digging into your skin, but you don’t even notice as you clock in riley’s fast skating, his blades slashing against the ice with intense ferocity.

garrick (33) passed the puck, and riley receives it.

your throat constricts, your eyes going wide. you plant your feet onto the floor, unconsciously tensing your muscles. your eyes follow his move, watching the way he devours the space to get to the best shooting spot—that sliver of angle in front of you.

you watch with bated breath, palm over your chest, but it takes your friend shaking you to realize what’s going on.

the roaring of the stadium is all of a sudden muffled as your mind catches up to your eyes, now finding meaning to what exactly it is you’re seeing. your friend is screaming your name but you’re deaf to it all, focused only on the man before you.

riley, the man that he is, points at you. then he turns, swinging his lumber, sending the puck flying past the goalie’s legs and into the net.

it happened so fast—barely a second or two—riley’s point and his score—but it unfolded so clearly before your eyes and victory sings in your blood.

“what was that!?” your friend screeches, pulling you up now that the game has reached its end with the specgru claiming their second win.

you try to tell her that you don’t know, that you don’t even understand what the hell actually just happened, but your voice refuses to form and your mind is back to buffering and riley is still staring at you—

jesus.

he is still staring at you.

god—

guys idek what this was but i woke up and saw bulletpoints of a thought so uhhh heres an attempt 😭

pt.02

mlist!

[lilacgaby]

title: save me.

pairing: childhoodfriend!katsuki x reader

katsuki has always saved you, his princess.

the first time you asked katsuki to save you was in kindergarten.

you'd fell and scraped your knees after some other little boy shoved you to the ground, upset that you had taken the swings from him earlier. you were in tears as you begged, "save me kacchan!" as his eyes widened and a feeling he couldn't describe overtook him, he scared off the other boy, happily taking the praise from you as you looked at him stargazed, in awe of his strength.

from that day on he swore to protect you, in all the games you'd play, he'd be the knight, you'd be the pretty princess in the tower, and his gang of friends would be monsters, trying to attack you.

he'd superglued your hands together at recess once too, just to keep you with him. he smiled as he said, "now we'll be together forever!" the reprimanding the two of you faced because he did so was worth it in his opinion, as the message stuck throughout the years.

it manifested in his protective nature over you never ceasing even as you two aged. in middle school the guy who'd been rude to you to the point of tears in biology came to you the next day, shakily begging you to forgive him. guys wouldn't look your way, terrified to even upset you. when you confronted katsuki about it? he'd deny it, say you must've done something yourself.

katsuki felt you were the only one who was his equal, the only one he wanted by his side on his journey to become number one.

that's why he was glad to be with you in u-a, why he 'let' you apply without the public humiliation he'd inflicted on izuku.

since you two were together constantly due to the dorms, you'd do everything together. you'd study together, train, sit next to eachother in class, eat lunch together. you'd even developed a habit of napping in his bed, waking up with horrible 'bedhair', not knowing it was because he'd play with it when you were fast asleep.

and as you two graduated, becoming pro-heroes, getting married. opening an agency together, plans for children on the way.

plans that were all thrown out as quickly as they were conceived.

the last time you asked katsuki to save you was when you were bleeding out in the destroyed streets of the city. debris and destruction surrounding you as you struggled to even mutter the phrase. "..s-save.. me." you could barely see him, let alone see the heartbreak and despair in his reaction.

everything hurt, your body could barely process why. maybe it was the fact you were being impaled on a blade of steel, brought forth by the villain who'd caused this madness in the first place.

"you're.. you're gonna be okay." he said, equally for yourself and him. trying to convince himself this was all a nightmare, one he'd hope he'd wake up from soon.

but as he looked over at you, processing the fatal wound in your stomach. he knew he couldn't be selfish and lie to you a second longer.

his words came out cracked as he confessed, 'i.. i don't-- i can't help you.'

how dare you? how dare you try comforting him in your last moments, reaching out to coddle his face with the hand that wasn't mangled, softly smiling and ignoring the blood cascading down your mouth as you dedicated your last words just to him. "i love you.. you've always- been my knight, katsuki."

he felt your hand drop, but he rushed to pick it up. he had never felt so hopeless in his life, he always swore to protect you.. and yet? he failed. he was a broken man as he was escorted away from your corpse, only your ring to serve as a permanent reminder of what he lost.

he was a broken man as he tried and miserably continued life without you, seeing you in everything, yet never feeling you again.

the only form of solace he would ever get was to find that villain, and to pummel him into the ground. and he did so, feeling so gratified in the moment, as if he'd served justice in your honor.

but all the blood he'd shed would be worthless,

for nothing could bring back his pretty princess in her tower.

alt ending!

[bubblebbg]

can i ask for a jealous mizu from blue eye samurai feeling a little overprotective and jealous when taigen spars with reader bc they are a swordmaster as well? Mizu doesn’t like it how taigen always gets you to laugh or how he injures you when sparring

why yes, anon. you may. Only warning is violence, but like, not really? Not proofread. Also, Mizu's pronouns change per perspective. I may as well shamelessly plug my other Mizu fic right here ;))

❝𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝❞

Mizu has no one to blame but herself when she's forced to bite back her envy and watch you with Taigen. If you two spar one more time, she might throw up in her mouth. It's about time she takes matters into her own hands.

The clinking of metal on metal, the air sliced through with a swish; all sounds Mizu has become accustomed to. Nonetheless, her eyebrow twitches in irritation, eyes following the movements in front of her. She thinks to herself that she never wanted to be this accustomed to those sounds, especially not when accompanied with Taigen's stupid remarks.

She watches you double back after having knocked him down yet again in the midst of your spars. She hates the way the both of you giggle.

"Please," Mizu rolls her eyes, "It can't be that funny the eighth time."

Taigen collects his sword and stands, sheathing it before dusting himself off. "Like you could do any better. Sure, you're good, but you're no master." He looks to you as he says this, smiling as if the praise was at all inconspicuous. She scoffs a bit when you smile back, crossing her arms and looking to the side.

The irony of her jealousy is that it's of her own making. You've asked Mizu to train with you before, and every time it's been a no. Because she cares about you, she at least does you the decency of making up excuses. "I'm tired, maybe tomorrow" or "I'm busy" - poor excuses, she knows, but she's trying here - and you've learned to stop asking. The truth is, she doesn't trust herself to not give away what she tries to keep hidden. Her heart already beats hard enough around you. The consequence? Watching you spar with a man who's clearly inferior to you, all while he makes pathetic advances and jokes. She's not sure if she hates him or herself more right now.

"But that's right," Taigen remarks, a snarky look on his face, "You're too scared, aren't you?"

The look in your eyes is cautionary as you nudge him. "Stop it," you mutter. And Mizu knows she shouldn't be so childish as to take the bait, but this isn't about you; it's a direct challenge from Taigen on her (sort of) manlihood.

"I am not scared."

"Then prove it. Duel. Right now."

"That's enough, Taigen," you reply, always the mediator, "If Mizu doesn't want to spar, then he -"

"I'll do it," she stands, approaching you both and stopping in front of Taigen with a searing look, "And you'll see that you're not even half the swordsman I am."

𓆩… . … . … . … . … . … . … . … . … . … . … . … . …𓆪

Inhale. Exhale. You stand face to face, a few meters apart, each a hand on their sword. The cold bites, snow falling between the two of you. When you look into her eyes, you see blazing fire, a spirit like tempered steel. When she looks into yours, there's something more unnerving; calm, like the surface of water undisturbed. Her heart pounds.

Inhale, she wills herself. Exhale. She draws and lunges, and you're quick to block it. Another swing, and another, and another, all quick and strong. Sharp eyes, she thinks. Each attack of hers is stopped as soon as it begins. Your eyes, watching as if not only to prevent, but to predict.

Inhale. She steps back, assessing. You're like a fortress - impenetrable defense. Your lips curl in the slightest smile and there goes her damn heart's pounding again.

Exhale. She drops to a crouch and swipes snow at you in an attempt to blind you, to throw off your analysis. She lunges through the spray with a decisive blow, a duel-ending strike.

Nothing. Her blade hits nothing.

Instead there's a blade at her throat, with you behind her. "How the hell did you -"

She reddens at the feeling of your warm chuckle at her ear. "You're breathing gives you away," you whisper, "Every time, without fail." You sheath your blade and Mizu whips around to look at you. She can't help but share the smile you give her. "Dirty bastard," she replies, and your laughter fills the air, the only sound she'll never tire of.

"Hah! I knew it, you're no match either, Mizu!"

Mizu's about to reply when you beat her to it.

"Whatever Taigen, he lasted longer than you ever will."

And it's Mizu's turn to laugh.

[xiax]

#PRAISE !

;feat. gepard, jingyuan, blade, welt, dan heng, + luocha/afab!reader

;cw. praise kink, sexual content, no gendered prns used

a/n. i didn't get the welt fic done but i hope that this will make up for it <3

contents on individual characters parts!

all characters presumed to be 18+. minors do not interact.

cw: pussywhipped!gepard, wet&messy, squirting

! GEPARD — heady, slurred praises babbled out in the heat of pleasure.

The sounds of his cock sliding in and out of your wet little pussy was intoxicating. Every time he sunk balls deep, you would gush messily around his cock. Just the sight of that creamy ring around the base of him had his head spinning, making him feel like he was drunk.

All the exhaustion that he had come in with from a hard few days of work completely evaporated the second he walked through the door and had you pawing eagerly at him. You whimpered and whined so sweetly, telling him all about how you had been wet all day, making a mess in your little panties and that you needed him to finally satiate you. 

He knew you had been playing with yourself long before he had come home. Your pretty pussy was so sensitive and messy, swollen and open from your own fingers working you open in hopes of achieving an orgasm even close to the kinds your precious boyfriend could give you. 

He was all too eager to pin you down to the bed, a firm hand around your throat to keep you still as he bullied his fat cock into your needy little cunt.

“O-Oh, so perfect…” he mumbles, words slurred. He supports his weight over your body with both hands on either side of your head, trembling fingers digging into the silken sheets. His head head between his shoulders, gaze locked onto the sight of his thick cock filling you up over and over again, “Y-You’re so…so good…fuck…oh my god…you’re perfect, sq-squeeze me like that again. Oh, please! Fuck, it feels so good, you feel so good…”

His mouth runs endlessly, eyes rolling back until only the whites are visible when he feels your cunt seize around him in yet another orgasm that he eagerly fucks out of you. Drool runs down the side of his mouth as he whimpers, hips swinging erratically as you continue to cum and cum around him.

“Th-That’s it…” he babbles, “f-fuck…so good…you’re doing so good. C’mon, gimme another one…please…”

Your voice raises even higher in pitch and you tremble beneath him as works another orgasm out of you with terrifying ease. Every thrust had him bumping against your clit, the sensitive little bud not able to take much more as you messily squirt around him with a sweet cry of his name. 

“That’s what you needed, right?” he whimpers, cheeks flushed red as he continues to fuck every little jet of cum you have to squirt out for him, “N-Needed me to make you cum like that? C-Can’t make yourself squirt, can you? Fuh-Fuck, you’re so good for me, oh god!” 

It’s all he can do as he finally reaches his own end, filling you up perfectly with the load you earned. 

cw: slow n deep :pensive:, dacryphilia, wet&messy, a lil orgasm denial, squirting as a treat

! JINGYUAN— sincere praises through gritted teeth

Sex with Jingyuan was never fast and rough. He took his time. Slow, deep agonizing thrusts that knocked the breath out of your lungs with every downward thrust of his hips. He filled you to the brim and then some. His heavy, aching balls snug against your ass as he had you pinned beneath him with your legs spread nice and wide so he could get as deep as he could. He gripped your body ferociously, blunt nails digging into your thighs where he pinned them down so he could have full access to your needy little cunt.

You were panting, a sheen of sweat coating your body. You were a mess compared to your lover who still looked as put together as he had when he had barreled his way into your home, eager to get his hands on your soft skin. He had already fucked two orgasms out of you while he hadn’t even had one – the stamina of a general was nothing to scoff at. 

“Oh, you feel so good, huh?” he pants, his clenched jaw and tense tone the only give away that he was feeling as much pleasure as you were, “I know you do. You’re doin’ so good for me, honey. Taking everything I give. So sweet for me.”

You whine and thrash beneath him as he nudges that tender little spot deep inside you that only he could reach with such mind-numbing accuracy. He was the only one who could have you teetering on the edge of orgasm without touching your clit. It makes you cream around him, a milky little ring around his cock that has the breath stuttering out of his chest. 

“Are you gonna come?” He pants, eyes briefly rolling back before he gives you a soft grin, “Go on. Feel good for me. That’s it, sweetheart.”

You dazedly nod your head, reaching forward to cling to him -- needing him to ground you through the almost painful pleasure. You were wound taut, eyes wide and teary as he fucked you. 

He knew you were close but made no changes to his pace. Those same, slow, deep thrusts that knocked the air from your lungs and allowed him to graze every nerve ending inside you. He kept you hanging on, each deep swing of his hips burying himself to the hilt in your creamy little cunt. You were making a bigger mess with every passing second. 

He chuckles, “If I didn’t know any better, I would think you’ve already cum around my cock. You haven’t, have you? You’d tell me if you came, right?”

Such teasing words had your cheeks burning hot but you whined, “D-Didn’t cum. I-I’m close. Please, Jingyuan, make me cum!”

He chuckles softly, a charming little sound that makes you feel like you have a crush on your own boyfriend, “I’m working on it, sweetheart. All you have to do is let go, c’mon. Don’t you want to be good for me again?”

You sob, still teetering on that edge that you can’t seem to fall over. You find yourself reaching towards your clit, trembling fingers dangerously close to the bud -- all you would need is one little touch and you would cum so hard around him. 

But your boyfriend intercepts your hand and shakes his head, fluffy hair jostling around his face as he does.

“None of that, honey. You don’t need that, do you? You can cum just around my cock, you did it before!”

You wail and sink back into the bed, tears overflowing your eyes as your boyfriend basically torments your oversensitive body. But he was right, you could cum like this. You just needed to be a little more patient and he would get you there. He always did.

A few more deep, well-aimed thrusts (a show of mercy on you when he realized just how hard you were trying to cum for him) finally had you gushing. Your pretty little pussy squirting all around him, soaking the general’s chest with your cum like a little badge of honor that only he could wear. 

“Good, see? I knew you could do it!” he breathes, adjusting his position so he hovered over your body, pretty hair falling like a veil around the two of you, “Now give me another one.”

cw: mean!blade, secretly soft!blade, a lil hurt/comfort, riding, a lil choking, minor degradation 

! BLADE — earned praises that he makes you work for.

You sat on his lap, stuffed nice and full by his fat, heavy cock. His sharp eyes looked up at you, a smirk playing on his lips as he watched you clumsily bounce on his lap. You were dripping down his length, strings of your cum sticking to his skin, making a mess that he had yet to even comment on. 

He could tell you were getting tired, a little furrow in your brow as your thighs burned from the work of moving yourself up and down without his help. Without so much as a supportive hand on your waist. He knew he was being a little mean to you today. But how was he supposed to resist when you looked so pitiful and hopeless as the ache in your body began to overtake any pleasure you were able to give yourself.

You were never able to fuck yourself as good as he could, after all. 

Just as your pace started to slow, your morale plummeted when all he did was stare blankly at you – as if you weren’t even there. As if he wasn’t even feeling any pleasure from your walls squeezing and drooling around him…

“What’s wrong?” he teases, faux disappointment apparent in his tone, the first thing he’s said since he pulled you into his lap telling you to ride him, “Don’t tell me you’re getting tired already, hm? But you were doing so well.”

Your pace falters immediately and you drop down onto his lap a little too hard, making him bump your cervix. You whine and wince, the deep ache not at all pleasurable. 

Blade can’t keep up the cruel façade he’d been tormenting you with in that moment. His hands leave from where they had been laid across the back of the couch and quickly grabs your waist, jerking you up further so he’s not buried as deep in you anymore. You let out a little breath of relief when he’s not pressing painfully against your cervix any longer. 

He hums softly, keeping his hands on your waist. His thumbs stroke against your soft skin and he tilts his head to the side as you stare at him with wide, affectionate eyes.

“Look how cute you are...do you like being praised that much?” he asks, smirking when you eagerly nod your head, placing your hands on his shoulders for balance before you begin eagerly fucking yourself on his cock again – with renewed vigor. He lets himself groan at the feeling, head falling back against the couch, “That’s perfect. You’re doing so good now, look at you. Keep going, make us come.”

Your orgasm washes over your suddenly and violently. He almost lets his mask slip at the shock of having you cum so suddenly. He grips your hips and forces you to grind against him through your high, your head falling back as your entire body twitches through the high. You almost lose your balance, teetering backwards on his lap before he cups to back of your head and pulls you to his chest, letting his cock pop free before you settle against him, panting and trembling. 

“Did you cum from me praising you?” he asks, raising a brow when you nod your head shyly, “Well...isn’t that just precious?”

He bares his teeth and with a surprising show of strength, he flips you over and pins you by your throat against the cough, eagerly stuffing his cock back into you. You’re so sensitive that having him back inside you suddenly makes your thighs jump, attempting to push him out. But he lays his body flush against yours, chest to chest as he slowly begins to work his hips against yours. 

“Be good and cum for me again, yeah?”

You sob and with a few more thrusts and whispered praises, you’re seizing around him again. He glances between the two of you, seeing the sticky, creamy mess you’ve made against him that sticks to him in messy strings.

“You’re so pathetic,” he sneers, “Cumming like that all over me. You’re lucky you’re so fucking cute.”

cw: size kink, reassurance, soft!welt. spit as lube, a lil pain

! WELT — reassuring praises when you struggle to take him

The tears in your eyes made his heart ache – especially because he knew he was the cause of your pain. He was just too big, a little too long to nestle comfortably within you and too wide to avoid that burning, stinging pain that came with being stretched far past your limits. 

Your hands shoot out suddenly, pressing against his chest to stop him from moving any closer. He could feel your walls twitching and struggling to open up around him. 

“T-Too much!” you whine, voice tight and slurred.

He sighs and pulls back, the feeling of his cock pulling out leaves you winded but you relax against the bed when he sits back on his heels. His hands gently hold you beneath the knees, keeping you spread open for him as he waits for you to catch your breath. 

“Would you like to stop for the night?” he asks, no hint of irritation or impatience to be found in his voice. 

It wasn’t like this was uncommon. There had been plenty of nights where it had just been too much to take him and you both found other ways to get off. He didn’t mind it, he understood that sometimes it hurt more than it felt good. He was patient and understanding, always making sure to put your comfort before his pleasure. 

But you shook your head, a sheen of sweat covering your body, “N-No…want you, Welt. Please, l-let’s try again.”

He sighs softly, pretending like he doesn’t feel his cock throbbing at you whining for him. You didn’t want to go to sleep tonight without that soreness between your thighs. You knew once you got over the pain of being stretched, once you got used to him, it would feel incredible and you would be able to cum around him as much as you needed. That’s what you wanted tonight and you weren’t going to give up like you had the last few nights. 

He reached over to the bedside table, and you whined, shaking your head.

“W-We’re out…” you mumble, knowing he was going for the lube the two of you kept stashed away. 

Hearing this, he sighed again and sat back, gripping you beneath the knees before tugging you closer. You squeaked when you found your lower half perched up on his thighs, leaving you completely open and exposed to his piercing gaze. 

His thumbs spread your folds apart, giving him a perfect view of your drooling little hole and swollen, throbbing clit that he feels he’s neglected for far too long. 

He puckers his lips and you almost moan out loud when he spits noisily onto your cunt. He does it twice before gripping his cock, using the head to smear his spit around before he’s carefully pushing in once more. 

You whine, grappling onto the sheets as he ever so carefully inches in. He’d already stretched you a bit from his attempt to penetrate you earlier so it wasn’t nearly as bad as it had been.

Still, the burning sting was as present as ever and you couldn’t help but cry out as he reached halfway. 

“Sh-Shh…” he breathes, brows furrowed in concentration as he works you wide open, “Y-You’re doing so well. Slowly…” he whispers the last thing, mostly to himself as the pleasure of your warm, wet walls wraps snug around him, “Good job. J-Just a little more…be good for me…”

Despite the way you squirmed and whined, trying to run from the overwhelming sensation of being fucked open, he didn’t stop until he was buried as deep as he could go. If you wanted it so bad, then who was he to deny you?

As he carefully worked you open, he stroked your hard clit with a rough thumb. Your thighs jump at the stimulation and you whine, wide eyes finding his stern gaze.

“W-Welt...” you gasp, biting your lip as you find your orgasm creeping up on you. You knew what was coming -- the tactic he resorted to when he was particularly resolute in getting his cock inside you.

He grunted softly at the call of his name, gaze focusing back on the sight of your greedy cunt swallowing down a cock far too big for you. Your clit was slippery and hard under his touch, painfully neglected in favor of stretching you open with his fingers earlier during foreplay. 

He always felt a little bad leaving such a pretty little part of you without attention. Perhaps he should do it more because the way it had you squeezing around him made your walls suck him in much easier. 

And as you finally came around him, allowing him to reach the deepest part of you, he watched and felt as your pretty clit twitched under his thumb with every spasm of your walls through your orgasm. 

He was truly enamored with you. 

cw: shy!dan heng, possessive!dan heng?, love making tbh 

! DAN HENG — shy, sweet praises whispered for you and you alone

You were in his room, on the little futon he had set up right there in the archive. What had turned into a sweet little session of spending time together morphed into sharing sweet kisses. Those kisses became more and more heated until you were practically teary eyed and grabbing his wrist to shove his hand into your wet little panties. His fingers eagerly played with you, stroking the firm bud of your clit and working your walls open to prepare you to take him.

You were just so sweet for him, how was he supposed to deny you when you wanted him so earnestly?

His body was draped over yours, your legs wrapped snug around his lithe waist. One hand was laced with yours as he slowly rocked in and out of you. You were so wet, noisy squelching noises accompanying his movements. The sound was so lewd that he felt his cheeks heating up. The thought that he was the reason you were so worked up was enough to make his head swim.

He leaned down, catching your lips in a sweet kiss. You whined into his mouth, wrapping your feet arm around his neck to tangle in his soft, dark hair. He gasped at the taste of you on his tongue when you eagerly licked into his mouth. 

“D-Dan Heng…” you whisper, tossing your head back when he touched that sweet little spot within your walls, “Oh please, I-I wanna cum.”

He nods, his cheeks burning hot at the feeling of you clinging so sweetly to him. It brought out a soft, protective side of him when you let your walls down in this most vulnerable of moments with him. Your cute little voice as you begged for him to give you pleasure. He was purely and completely enamored by you. 

“Y-You can…” he whispered, wincing when he heard how his own voice wobbled, betraying just how flustered you had him, “W-Whenever you want. However much you need.”

You just whine softly, blunt nails biting into his shoulder blade. He winces at the feeling but doesn’t make any moves to stop you – he would proudly wear any marks you left on him in this moment with pride.

The fact he was here with you, sharing this precious, intimate time together was enough to make his heart race. He was so in love with you. Completely overtaken by everything that was you. He had your face buried in his neck, your fingers laced between his, your arm wrapped around him to keep him as close as possible, and he was buried in your body as deep as he could possibly be. 

Everything about this moment was to be cherished and if he could take a mental snapshot of how you looked he would. You were something to be worshipped in his head. The only one to get past his highly built walls. The only one he would ever allow himself to have in this special way.

“N-need you to make me cum!” you whine, thighs twitching around his waist as he slammed into you harder than he intended at those words. He bumped your cervix, making you wince but he carefully kissed your forehead in apology. 

He swallowed around the lump in his throat and adjusted his stance on his knees, making sure to grind against you with every deep thrust he delivered, catching that swollen, neglected little clit in a way that had your eyes rolling back and your cunt creaming eagerly. 

He loved that the most, seeing the way your body so clearly responded to him. He liked to imagine that you could never make yourself drool and gush the way he could -- though he would never gain the courage to actually ask. For now, he was content with believing that he had the biggest effect on your body; the only one who could have that pretty ring of milky white wrapped around him.

The squelching of your pussy got louder and louder the closer you got, drooling messily around him to let him know just how close you were – as if he couldn’t feel how tightly you clenched and spasmed around him. Little, sticky strings stuck hos his thighs and hips, breaking away every time he pulled back only to reappear when he stuffed himself back inside you.

“G-Good…” he breathes, so quiet you almost didn’t hear it, “You’re doing so good. Go on, let go for me. I-I’m right here. Be good for me, sweetheart.”

You come around him with a loud cry that has him quickly slapping his hand over your mouth so no one would hear. This moment was for the two of you and you alone. He wouldn’t let anyone be a part of it.

cw: mating press, mean!luocha, lots of clit attention smh i am who i am, little one as a pet name, dacryphilia 

! LUOCHA — teasing, condescending praises that make your eyes teary and your cheeks hot 

“Oh what’s the matter, little one?” he coos, tone dripping with condescension. It makes you want to curl up and hide away. You would if your lover didn’t have you beautifully pinned down with your knees against your chest. His cock was buried as deep, to the base with his balls firmly pressed against your ass. 

He wasn’t moving, however. Completely stationary as your pretty pussy sat stretched and stuffed with him.

“You must tell me what you want before I can give it to you,” he says, pretty, blonde locks framing his face perfectly with the light behind him making it look like he had a halo. 

He was truly a thing of beauty. Coincidentally, he thought the same as you as you laid beneath him completely naked and vulnerable with an open, drooling little cunt wrapped around him making a mess of everything around it. 

“P-Please!” you beg softly, tearily staring up at your lover. 

He cocked his head to the side and grinned, a teasing, cruel little smile that sent shivers down your spine. 

“Please what?” he asks and you practically sob.

“M-Make me feel good!” you cry in frustration.

He felt so big and hot inside, twitching you filling you so well. But he wasn’t moving. Wasn’t giving you what you needed. Instead, he played dumb and acted like he didn’t know how to make you cum your brains out night after night. 

“Oh! Well why didn’t you say so?”

You sigh in relief at his words, thinking he was finally going to properly fuck you. But instead, all you felt was a firm thumb pressing down on your clit. Your legs twitched and your toes curled as he slowly worked the bud under his finger, the hard little bud slippery and so sensitive as he strokes it with practiced precision. 

“L-Luocha!” you wail, eyes rolling back in your head.

The feeling of simply being speared open on his fat, heavy cock while he worked your tender little clit to orgasm was mind numbing. Luocha felt dizzy – he could feel your walls flexing and drooling around him as he carefully played with your clit. 

“What is it, hm?” he coos, meanly tapping the bud with his thumb to make your body twitch. It was like he was playing with you like you were just a little toy, “Isn’t this what you asked for? For me to make you feel good? And it does feel so good doesn’t it? Go on, tell me.”

Tears drip down the side of your face as you mindlessly nod, wanting so badly to squirm to stir that precious cock inside you just a little but he had you completely pinned at his mercy.

“Feels so good! Oh, it feels good, Luocha! I-I’ll cum! Please make me cum!”

“Ah,” he sighs happily, “That’s my good little darling. You know how to behave so well don’t you? So good for me. Go on, cum for me. Make me proud and I might just make you cum again…all over my cock.”

His words set you off and before you knew it, you were wailing his name and twitching beautifully on the bed as you covered him in sticky cum. His mouth fell open, unable to hold himself back from moaning as he watched you lose yourself so sweetly all from him playing with your pretty little clit. 

“Oh, you are such a perfect little thing for me.”

@xiax // do not modify or repost.

[peachsukii]

A rage room is the last place Bakugo ever thought he’d end up with you.

When you bring up the idea to him after seeing one online, he scoffs at the thought of it. Working out and training is more than enough for him to let off metaphorical steam, and he’s been seeing a therapist since senior year of UA. He doesn’t need to smash shit to feel something.

At least, that’s what he thought.

Bakugo agrees to go with you, begrudgingly at first, but ultimately to keep you company, he doesn’t want you to hurt yourself or be alone. There were only two rules: No quirk usage and no harming others in the room, everything else is fair game. You both sign the waivers and gear up to head inside. The room is overwhelming at first, full to the brim of freshly smash-able objects - a broken down car with the doors barely on their hinges, light bulbs, glass jars of all sizes, old stop lights, and other breakable trinkets.

“Start smashin’, sweets. It ain’t gonna break itself,” Bakugo jokes, patting you on the back to let you take the first swing. You pick up the bat the facility has supplied and turn to face him, setting it on your shoulder like a sword.

“You’re not gonna try it?”

He’s here and suited up, might as well let loose. What’s the worst that could happen?

Bakugo swings the bat a few times around the room, adrenaline trickling through his veins as glass continuously shatters around him. Suddenly, he’s lost in thought and caught in a slow emotional build up, like an ocean’s tide retreating before the giant swell of waves begin to crash against the shore. Memories begin flooding to the forefront of his mind, things he’d worked through in therapy - anger, frustration, fear, guilt, coursing through him. Bakugo doesn’t notice when you lower your bat, watching him curiously as he starts swinging harder, viciously picking up the pace and breathing heavily with each passing hit.

“Kats, you alright?” You call - he doesn’t hear you in his tunnel visioned state. In between swings, you can see the bat quaking in his grip as if it’s too heavy to hold.

“Katsuki!” you try again with no response. Bakugo sounds like he’s about to have a panic attack with the way his breath is labored. You toss your bat to the floor and rush over to him, gently grabbing at his shoulder to get his attention. He flinches at your touch, shaken up by his sudden visceral reaction with a tinge of embarrassment, hiding his face from you by tucking it against his opposite shoulder.

“Breathe, babe,” you sooth, rubbing calming circles in between his shoulder blades. “Do you need a minute?”

“I—” Bakugo stutters, his throat strained by his effort to hold in the onslaught of tears threatening to spill over his cheeks. He clears his throat and bites his lip in a desperate attempt to stop his emotions from overflowing, but he loses the battle.

“We can stop if—”

He snatches your breath away when Bakugo swings around and pulls you into his chest, burrowing his face in the crook of your neck awkwardly. The protective goggles are becoming foggy and wet with discarded tears, a hiccup strangled in his throat. One of your hands slides tenderly against his nape, fingers entangled with the soft blonde strands while the other lays against his back.

"It's okay, I've got you. It's just you and me here."

Turns out smashing shit gave him an outlet he didn’t know he needed. His therapist has preached to him about bodies holding onto stress and trauma throughout our lives - Bakugo thought it was utter bullshit.

He was proven dreadfully wrong. But one things for sure, he’s sincerely grateful you knew him better than himself, how badly he needed this release without verbalizing it.

[surielstea]

Worried Mates

1k celebration request by @mira-says

Pairing: Poly!Bat Boys x Valkyrie!Reader

Summary: Reader gets badly injured and her three mates fuss over her.

Warnings: Light gore | canon-typical violence | injury | hurt/comfort | fluff | angst | happy ending

A.Note: This takes place during the war between humans and fae 500 years before the events of ACoTaR, Reader is a Valkyrie Commander.

2.1k words

"Gods—" I grunt, gripping my aching side. The war between mortals and fae was raging, and it seemed that it wouldn't be stopping any time soon.

When my half-sister, Miryam, had told me that she planned on fleeing with Prince Drakon once the war was over I thought she must've been insane. I only wanted joy for my sister of course, but it was foolish of her to think the two of them could have their happy ending after helping initiate this war.

But now, bleeding out and surrounded by enemies I was starting to understand the appeal of leaving everyone behind and escaping with my mates. I was at death's doorstep, too tired to even lift my sword, and I wanted nothing more than to be in the arms of the males I loved most.

I watched all my companions die off, my friends, Valkyrie's far better than me dying before me. It wasn't right.

I was the commander of the Valkyrie units, and now they're gone. Commander of no one because I failed them all by leading them into a war I knew we couldn't win.

An armed fae charged towards me, his sword held high as he screamed like a madman.

I tightened my grip on my shield and used his momentum against him, his sword clanging hard to the Illyrian steel of my shield as I pushed it back into him. He tumbled to the ground under the weight of it and with the sharp point of my shield I thrusted it straight into his chest. He fell limp.

A battle cry sounded from behind me and I groaned, every inch of my body protesting any further movement. I unsheathed my heavy sword while turning around to face a hulking male, lifting it up in challenge.

He swings first, his scarlet-covered blade meeting mine. He was much stronger than me, bigger too but he was slow. He pushed hard and my aching arms strained under the pressure. I steadied my breathing and pushed his blade away from me. He came back swinging with twice the force, going right for my head. I bent back, my spine screaming at me as his blade swung just above my nose, the sharpness of it slicing into a rogue hair that had strayed from its braid.

With the remaining energy I honed, I thrust my sword into the male's chest. He yelped, his sword clattering to the ground, and with one last attempt to gut me, he swung to grab me with his free hand. I screamed as I felt a searing pain in my side. I looked down to find a large knife embedded into my torso. When I looked back to the male he twisted the knife and I felt as if my entire body was set aflame. I clenched my teeth together as I plunged my sword into his chest again, and when I pulled it out he was already in the dirt, receiving the same fate as his comrades.

My knees buckled as I looked at my side again, blood pooling at my feet as it ran down my leg.

I dug my sword in the ground, using it for support so I could at least stay standing. My entire left side felt paralyzed as I continued to lose that precious scarlet liquid.

I squeezed my eyes shut before forcing them open, my vision bleary as I grew increasingly dizzy.

In the distance, I saw another armed soldier charging at me. For a moment I debated letting him have my life, it was soon nearing a close anyway.

But I hadn’t trained for years to be cut down by a measly foot soldier, hadn’t clawed and scraped my way through ranks to die by a stranger's hand. I curse, deciding that I wouldn't go out in forfeit, I would die fighting or I would not die at all. With only my right arm I lifted my sword up toward the sky, ready to strike.

But just as he was about to reach me a gleam of red flashed and the soldier's head went flying in the opposite direction of his body. Directly in front of me stood a male, glowing in red, my vision began to darken at the corners but I could recognize those wings anywhere. "Oh thank the gods," I sighed in pure relief, falling to my knees as Cassian ran forward to catch me before my head could hit the hard ground. He spotted the gushing wound in my side immediately, then looked at my dilated pupils.

“Hey, sweetheart,” He rasped, his voice raw from shouting commands at soldiers over the fields. “Cass,” I hum his name, the familiarity of it bringing me a warm feeling. I was glad to see he was unharmed. “Lean on me,” He says while gently brushing my stubborn hairs away from my sweat, and most likely blood, lined forehead.

"I'm going to get you out of here," Was all I managed to hear from him before darkness consumed me and my vision blackened entirely.

When I cracked my eyes open I immediately winced at the harsh light of the room I was being kept in. The sound of frustrated voices registered first, then the smell of lavender, and the softness of the pillow behind my head, and then finally my vision came. I spotted Rhysand and Cassian first, quietly bickering over something I couldn’t find in myself to care for. They were both changed from their armor, cleansed from the blood and dirt of the war. Even though they both looked clean and seemed how they always did I could tell something was off. Their wings were terse and the bags beneath their eyes were prominent.

It took a lot to mar the beauty of a Fae male, especially the two of them, and yet I don’t think I’ve ever seen them more distressed.

They continued their hushed argument, oblivious to the fact that I had woken up so I cast my eyes elsewhere, toward the third male in the room who had his head tilted downward, his scarred hands in his lap. He stared at those scars, his shaky hands making it seem like he’d done something wretched, so horrid he somehow didn’t think it probable that it was done with his own hands.

My brows creased, all three of them were in sorrow, and whether it was because I was bedridden or it was simply the after-effects of the war I was unsure.

“Good morning,” Is all I can think to say. It was casual, a little hoarse, but simple.

The room fell silent and all three heads snapped towards me. Their lips all formed tight straight lines as they bored their eyes into me.

I couldn’t tell if it was shock or relief, perhaps both.

A large smile cracks across my lips. “Were you guys worried about me?” I suggest, raising my brows accusingly.

“Gods,” A large figure crashes into me and I groan. Cassian clings to me tightly, hugging me into his warm chest. “Of course, we were worried,” He whispers, as if afraid he’d break this moment by speaking any louder.

“You’re crushing her, Cass,” Rhys says from behind him and I chuckle, looking at the violet-eyed male and giving him a gentle smirk which he matched. I pulled away from Cassian’s embrace first and he reluctantly let go of me.

“I’m sorry love,” Azriel sighed, his hand coming to intertwine with my fingers. “Sorry for what Az?” My brows crease.

“My shadows should’ve been with you, I could’ve stopped that soldier from hurting you—” The Illyrian starts but Cassian cuts him off.

“No Az it’s my fault, I should have been there sooner. I should have taken that dagger not her—” He tried but this time it was Rhys to cut him off.

“Both of you stop being ridiculous, I was the one that allowed her to fight, it was my mistake from the beginning,” The High Lord asserts, crossing his arms over his chest.

“My gods, do you three ever quit taking the blame for everything?” I looked pointedly at Rhys when I spoke. “I would’ve commanded the Valkyries to fight alongside you whether it was cleared or not,” I confess and Rhys subtly frowns at that, the unspoken question of me being the last Valkyrie was now answered with that expression. A wave of shame passed over me, but I pushed it aside for now, deciding to spend this moment with my three very paranoid, but very alive mates.

“I’m fine,” I give Azriel’s hand a squeeze.

“Madja said if the blade went even a fraction deeper it would’ve been fatal,” The blue siphoned male argued, and my brows bunch.

“But it didn’t,” I state.

“But it could have,” He snarled and I had never seen him so angry, so scared.

My eyes softened and I let a soft smile grace my features. “Az,” I whispered, attempting to bring him comfort to remind him I was alive and healthy.

Azriel was the first of the three that I bonded with, we’ve always had a different connection because of it. I’ll love all of them equally no matter what, but it left Azriel to be more protective of me than the other two.

He stands suddenly, our hands still tangled. “You nearly died, you nearly abandoned us for a place where we aren’t allowed to join you,” He snapped and my heart ached at the pained look on his face. I would’ve been furious too if it were him on the brink of death, I would’ve found a way to steal him back from death itself if that treacherous event were to come.

“Azriel,” Cassian snapped at the male but I held a hand up, waving him off.

I sat up, my side screamed at me in protest but I ignored it. I wore my softest white nightgown, only realizing it once I stood from the bed, slightly unsteady but upright nonetheless. I narrow my gaze at Azriel.

“I am here, I am alive,” I say. “A little scratched up but I don’t think Rhys will let me out in the field anytime soon,” I smile and Rhys shifts behind me.

“You heard that right,” The High Lord grumbled under his breath and I tossed him a glance over my shoulder.

I look back to Azriel, reaching for his other hand and holding them both. “See? I’m alright, I promise,” I look up at him lovingly and his shoulders dip in relief.

“Okay,” He nods, silently cursing himself for acting out so brashly. “You just, had me worried is all,” He excuses and I smile softly, letting go of one of his hands in favor of cupping his jaw.

“I know honey, I know,” I murmur before lifting up and placing a reassuring kiss on his lips, he returns it by bringing his free hand to my hip, pulling me closer.

“Is it just me or do you feel excluded too?” Cassian loudly whispered to Rhysand and I giggled against Azriel’s lips, pulling away and turning my head to cast a playful glare at the two piqued males, clearly attention-deprived.

“Then come over here already,” I give them an inviting smirk and they quickly scramble around the bed to reach me and it takes everything in me not to giggle at how desperate they were to be in my clutches yet again.

“One for you,” I placed my hand on Rhys’ jaw and gave him a soft peck, he barely had time to reciprocate it until I was rearing back. “And,” I grabbed Cass by his shirt. “One for you,” I gave him the same kiss.

“You taste like a coma,” The male murmured, smacking his lips and I rolled my eyes.

“You each got one, are you three satisfied now?” I arch a brow.

“Satisfied? Nowhere near it darling,” Rhys grabbed me by the waist and hoisted me up and over his shoulder.

“Wait! I’m still not fully healed yet!” I yelped, banging my fists on his back playfully.

“We’ll be gentle,” Cassian reassured with a gleeful smile. I looked at Azriel but he only smirked.

“No promises,” He shrugged and I groaned, letting my body go limp as Rhys carried me towards the High Lord's chambers.

“If you guys open my stitches I’ll give all of you stitches,” I threatened but none of them seemed to care, and to be honest nothing sounded better than the idea of being cradled by three tan, very large, Illyrians after such a long war.

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[luvsfics]

DELICATE TOUCHES — house of the dragon

Davos/Benjicot Blackwood x betrothed!reader

[ innuendo ]

Description: After Davos gets himself into a fight with another, his betrothed helps him clean up his cuts and bruises. Her soft touches only made him fall harder for his beautiful wife-to-be.

Authors note: Thank you so much for 450 followers! I appreciate all of the kind comments I’ve been receiving and I thank you all for the support!

Heavy steps rung through the walls of raventree hall as Davos made his way to his betrothed’s apartments. His nose bled red as well as his lip, A red bruise forming under his eye.

He gripped the hilt of his blade as his stomps grew louder to the ears of his wife-to-be. Her ears peaked up at the sounds of her door swinging open.

Her head whipped from her writing desk to the entrance of her chamber. To her surprise, her betrothed stood bloody at her doorway.

“Davos? Whatever happened?” She rushed over to him, taking his bruised face into her hands.

He winced at her palm connecting with his bruised cheek. She quickly moved her hand to rest on his chest, her eyes roamed over her body as she checked his bruises and cuts.

“Come, my love.” She led him to her vanity, forcing him to sit down on the dark red stool. She stood in between his legs, her bum facing his front as she searched through the drawers for a cloth.

His hands found their way to her behind, giving it a rough squeeze before she swatted his grabby hands away.

He smiled at her response. He was so in love with the woman in front of him, his sweet betrothed. The two had been promised since they were only children and grew to love each other.

Their wedding was only a few moons away and they couldn’t wait much longer. They longed for each other, in more ways than one.

“Ah ha!” She exclaimed and held up a white cloth. She poured water onto the rag from the pitcher on a nearby table, making her way back to Davos.

She tilted his head up with the tips of her fingers, lightly tapping the cloth onto some cuts on his lip. “Do I want to know what happened?” She asked.

He hands rested on her hip as he shook his head at the woman. His gaze fixed onto her features as he took the beautiful woman’s radiance in. “Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?”

“Everyday, dearest.” She giggled.

“Perhaps I should tell you more often, eh?” He said with a smirk.

Her gentle touches made his skin litter with goosebumps and butterflies dance in his stomach.

She wiped the blood from under his nose and dabbed the cut on his lip. He hissed slightly at the pain. “I’m sorry,” she said.

She placed a delicate kiss on his lips, “a kiss to make it feel better.” She smiled. He breathed out a laugh, “it must be healed already!”

His betrothed took a seat on his thigh, resting her head on his shoulder as she gazed up at him. “You must not provoke people, I hate seeing you like this.” She said softly, her fingers dancing across his cheekbone.

“He shouldn’t have said what he said.” He shrugged his shoulders.

“What did this man say?” She asked. His eyes drew to the wall in front of his, avoiding her sweet stare.

“He said that- if he were me- he would’ve already…fucked you bloody.” He whispered.

Her heart sunk. Davos was nothing but sweet with her, she was glad he wanted to wait until they were wed. He was the most respectful and kind man she had ever met.

He was incredibly protective over her, something she loved about him. “Do not listen to these cruel and disgusting men. I only belong to you. And- I love how soft you are with me.”

His eyes softened and gaze fixed back onto her. A smile was painted onto her face, and she quickly pressed a rough kiss onto his lips, making him wince in pain.

“I’m sorry! I forgot- heavens me..” she cried.

He laughed, “forget about it.” And his lips found their way back to hers, where they belonged.

[dreaisgrayte]

Hannya Mist | Giyu Tomioka x demon fem!reader

Warnings: aphrodisiac (kind of?), touching, boobs, Giyu's first time seeing boobs (#I'm so proud of him), fight for control, first blow job, mentions of sexual fantasies, and mortal enemies kind of sexy for each other heheheh word count: 2.1k a/n: Giyu... my baby. Virgin just fits you so perfectly, but when you learn you LEARN.

Fireflies float through the air, the footprints left behind by the water hashira marking a path of determination. The evening air is muggy, nearly oppressive as Giyu comes across a strange hut. It’s a small building, barely bigger than a room at the water pillar’s manor. His aqua gaze searches for evidence of a nearby village. It was off to have a hut in such a dangerous part of the woods. Did anyone even live in it? If it were abandoned, he could rest up under its roof for the night.

As if answering his inquiry a light flicks on, illuminating the silhouette of a woman in the window. The mountains swallow the rest of the sunlight, a dim stillness settling in the clearing where Giyu stands stagnant. The water pillar is unaware of the mist swallowing him up. A deep purple fog coats the surrounding area, the tendrils from the mist seemingly beckoning him toward the hut. 

Come closer it almost whispers and against what better judgment he could form through the thick fog – coating his throat and sense of smell – he takes a heavy step forward. His heart is racing despite the calm breeze that rustles the leaves above his head. Dusk painted the sky an array of orange and pink. 

It was like he was on the brink of suffocating. What was with this air anyway? Had it always been this stifling? Giyu sucks in a steady breath, the purple mist filling his lungs. He feels a tingle in his lower abdomen and his brows furrow as it burns hot, making him take pause in his advance toward the hut. 

His limbs feel shaky as he brings a hand to his forehead. His other hand grips the hilt of his sword as if that would stop him from sinking to his knees. The slick magma grows, tying his muscles in a buzzing feeling that nearly makes him want to rip it out. He’s panting, the hand that was on his forehead dropping to his mouth as he bites down on a finger. 

Giyu Tomioka, the stoic and quiet water hashira, was unnervingly horny. He could feel himself grow stiff in his breeches. His throat bobs as he shakily shifts his legs apart to allow more room for his swelling cock. He’d never experienced such an overwhelming sense before, only hearing about it from the other hashira. Sex never interested him, it was a distraction from the ultimate goal of destroying all demons – but as his eyes flutter shut, all Giyu wants to do is find a wet warm cunt to plunge his aching cock into. 

Night has captured the clearing, dusting the ground with moonlight. With the way he felt now, it wouldn’t be safe for him to enter the hut. Not with a woman supposedly alone inside. This damn fog was making him crazy, but the damned door swings open, revealing you.

His hand releases the hilt of his blade.

You are in a blush pink yukata, hands folded in front of you, and a hannya mask covering your face. Your hair flutters around the mask, your head cocking to the right as you peer through the small eye holes at the encumbered water hashira. Beneath your lips pull tight into a smirk. 

Giyu had a string of thoughts enter his head, one specifically that he would surely spend the rest of his life wondering about. What did you look like under that mask? A mask crafted to take on the appearance of a female demon consumed by jealousy. Your mask is made out of wood, the bark left jagged and dangerous. Two pointed horns sprouted from the sides, weaving into your own hair. The brows are drawn together in protruding masses. Sharp teeth decorate the open mouth that’s under a large nose. 

The water pillar takes a tentative step forward, your presence calling him into your den. “Excuse me, miss, I don’t mean to intrude, but I’ve had a long journey.” He pauses, his head spinning with obvious reasons as to why he should not enter your hut. 

You step to the side, though, slowly righting your head. “You need a place to rest. To be safe from demons.” The mask muffles your voice, but Giyu revels in the way its melodic tone enters his ears.

Just for a little bit, he promises himself. The water hashira enters through the threshold of the hut. Inside is a raised wooden platform with a mat pushed into the corner – folded bedding placed on top neatly. Beside the mat is a small table with a candle and tray of steamed rice, vegetables, pork, and a cup of piping hot tea. A cushion rests directly in front of the table, a rug underneath that. In the middle of the dirt area is a cooking pot – storage closets lining the wall and a flickering orange lantern that lights up the whole room on a bench. 

His eyes flick to how you stand by the door – he only assumes you’re still watching him by the way the mask faces his general direction. “Have I interrupted your dinner?” His voice is soft and playful. 

You shake your head gently so as not to disturb the placement of your mask, then step toward him. “Dinner has just begun.” You reply, gesturing to the steaming food with your head. “Please, eat.” 

The ravenette’s mind is fuzzy as he sets his nichirin sword against the far wall. Then, slipping out of his zori, he steps onto the wooden platform. He’s surprised by how comfortable the cushion is under his knees. The food looks delicious, but he stiffens when you come to kneel next to him. Your body was mostly hidden by the yukata, but the hashira imagines how exactly he would lavish you – if he knew how. 

He’s stricken with shame – for having such thoughts with you next to him and for his lack of knowledge about sexual experiences. He was disciplined in how the body functioned, training for years on how to perfect muscle density and stances. He clears his thoughts of the wicked images, picking up the chopsticks that are next to the bowl of rice. “Thank you for the food,” He takes a mouthful of rice, humming in satisfaction at the warm consistency. Giyu peers at you while chewing away on the food. “If you do not mind me asking, why do you wear such a mask?” He was genuinely curious, but then again, he was curious why you had to be clothed as well. 

You tilt your head. “To hide my identity. Safety.” You answer and as Giyu swallows another mouthful of rice he feels that sickening feeling return. This time it feels like it’s coursing through his very bloodstream. He sets the chopsticks down and you lean forward, raising your hand to pull your mask down. “Are you okay my Lord? That is what they call you right?” Vibrant eyes narrow at him and fangs accompany the twisted smile on your face. 

Giyu is panting, clutching his throat as it burns with sensations foreign to him. “D-demon,” He begins, lips curling in disgust. “What did you,” He hacks up spit and winces at the fire in his esophagus. “Do to me?” 

Your lips curl in a smirk, crawling closer to him. Giyu can’t move back as you slither toward him, placing your clawed hand on his thigh. “Mmm, well I’m not the one lusting after a stranger.” You tip your head to the side curiously as you graze the indent of his bulge. The ravenette hisses at the way he shifts into your touch. This earns a delighted laugh from you. “I am a demon, the thing you promise to eradicate from this plane of existence, yet you yearn for my touch. It’s…adorable.” Your fingers press firmly into his erection now, Giyu’s eyes squeezing shut. 

His body feels like it’s being electrified as you trace the imprint of his cock. “You-You did this to me,” he grunts out. The fog must’ve had some sort of aphrodisiac in it. He’s full of rage and disgust, but also lust. 

You giggle, meeting his heated gaze – the blue in his eyes darkening to almost black. “Yeah? Doesn’t look like you want me to stop,” Your fingers reach for the hem of his breeches. “You smell like you’re on the verge of cumming. Are you pure?” Giyu’s heart thumps wildly in his ribcage as you drag your nose up his neck, your tongue darting out to taste the line of his jaw. You return to his line of sight with a wide grin. 

The water hashira’s cheeks warm with the acknowledgment. “Please, help me.” You almost want to take pity on the whimpering man in front of you, but who’s to say once your mist fades away that he won’t drive that pretty katana through your heart? He was… exceptionally fit and had withheld this much torture. 

You start to peel off your yukata, edging the sleeves down your shoulders. “If you don’t satisfy me, I’ll kill you.” Giyu’s skin itches to be warmed by yours as the yukata billows to the floor. He’s never seen a demon become shy, but that could be a result of him gawking at your large breasts. The way they rest on your chest brings his gaze down to your navel, then dips to your thighs that press together. 

After a beat of him staring, you grab his hand and place it on your chest. His brows furrow as the skin molds around his thick fingers. Your own brows knit together as a stained moan escapes your lips. “Barely started and you’re already a mess,” Giyu quips, growing more comfortable with the way your nipple brushes against his palm as he squishes your breast. 

You huff, positioning yourself closer. “It’s just been a while.” The hashira tuts as his fingers find your nipple, rolling it between the pads of his thumb and pointer finger. You throw your head back and groan. “Fuck,” 

He was growing confident and he hadn’t even gotten to the finale yet. You reach out to stroke his thigh, a smirk twitching on your lips. His ministrations halt, moving his arms out of the way so you’ll have more room. Your ears pound as you gaze upon the sheer size of his cock and some of it was hidden underneath the cloth of his breeches. He gets up on his knees, working them off his hips. Hard pelvis lines lead to the star of the show – the untouched cock of the formidable water hashira. It is fucking beautiful. A pale pink head that’s leaking precum and a hungry look in his eyes. 

Though the very thought of having a demon’s mouth around his cock should seem like a very bad idea, Giyu runs his hand through your hair, fisting around it. “You’re gonna wrap that pretty mouth of yours around my cock. Got that, demon whore?” 

To you, that should sound like a threat. You should kill this hashira and reap the rewards, but you allow him to push your head down to his stiff length. For someone who was supposedly pure, he acted like he’d done this before. 

The moment your hand wraps around him, his eyes roll back in his head. It’s glorious, the feeling of your palm against his length, pumping up and down. He goes wild when you graze the slit of his tip, rubbing the pre along his cock. Without warning you dip your mouth onto his tip, using the flat of your tongue to swipe at the vein running up the underside. He groans, shoving your head further down. 

Hearing you sputter and choke on his cock is damn near hell sent. Spit drips from your mouth and warmth radiates from you trying to breathe. He’s hitting the back of your throat, your fangs dragging along the side of length. Giyu shivers, the feeling painfully pleasurable mixed into a bowl of fucking salvation. 

“M’so close,” There’s a fire located in the pit of his abdomen and maybe this is where demons are born – in this hell of angelic desire flooding to one place. That one place happens to be your mouth as Giyu jerks his hips up into your mouth, cumming hard. Spittle and his creamy mess mix as he pulls your mouth off him. 

Of course, you lick your lips and swallow what you can with a swollen smirk, but that falters when you realize he’s orgasmed. The one thing to break your mist is to feed into the desire. That would mean Giyu is clear of mind and probably going to cut your head from your-

His hand wraps around your throat, shoving you to the ground. He hovers over your naked body, panting crazily. “My tricks seem to have run dry,” You garble out. 

Giyu clicks his tongue, gazing down at your plush skin, regarding the view. “Ah, but I’m not finished yet, demon.” 

[temporarily-your-saint]

Dull Blades

benjicot blackwood & targaryen oc

UPDATED! First chunk of this just? Disappeared??? So, edited it to include the missing first part!

warnings: angst?? no warnings, really? fluff & drabble for now & soft ben ~

I got this idea for a drabble from S2 of GOT when Catelyn Stark finds her son in disarray after hearing of his father. After watching the last couple episodes of HOTD (and reading Fire and Blood recently), it’s hard not to think about all of the heartbreak between the two sides. This little drabble follows an OC I’m creating, Rhaenala, having a moment to really feel and let out her frustration and sadness. She wanders off to the woods on her own once settling into the Riverlands only to then be discovered by a certain Blackwood. Also, I know, I know, okay! I know our boy didn’t turn out to be our boy, BUT LET ME COPE, OKAY. : ‘ )

Also, part 1??? Thinking about making a second part to this…

—

Swing after swing the blade got duller and even more damaged. The log had had it. She couldn’t help it though. Everything was falling apart as she knew it. Her house, her family, everything. It wasn’t fair. None of it was fair.

Her breath heaved as she swung her sword. In the distance, she could hear footsteps brushing along the grass and leather moving against each other as a voice called out.

She wiped her eyes, removing all evidence of frustrated tears.

“Hey!” She heard the voice as it got closer. It was a husky voice, perhaps a young lad.

“Hey! Princess!” Lilac eyes snapped up to meet the unknown voice. Her chest rose up and down quickly as she leaned over to rest. Who was this? This lanky, dark-haired man? Rhaelana was stunned by his boldness yet captivated.

Piercing familiar eyes met hers. “We need that sword, Princess. We need every sword necessary to end every life that defends the usurper. And…” he trailed off, his eyes scanning the blade in her hands. “You’re letting that one go to waste,” he finished his sentence softly as he slowly approached closer.

Blackwood. Benjicot Blackwood.

She remembered now. Head of House Blackwood. How could she be so dense?

The princess was sent by her mother to aid their allies with the battle against the Lannister army. Benjicot had sent ravens to the queen not long before asking for aid, so Rhaelana was drafted with Valax, her grown dragon with black onyx scales. The two were a formidable pair and more than capable of assisting their Riverland allies.

Her mouth parted with a bewildered cackle, laughing uncontrollably out loud. She couldn’t help it. This truly was a sightly scene for the young lord to find his princess, wasn’t it?

She sheathed the sword as she stood upright. “My apologies, my lord. I shall be more mindful,” her voice quivered on the last word, almost making her lose her composure. He could see that, of course. It wasn’t difficult to see that she was hurting, being torn apart in every direction. Most of all, she was grieving. Grieving for those that were already lost. Grieving for those that would welcome death soon enough. And what better way to let go than by hitting something? Oh, Benjicot knew that feeling all too well.

“Princess?” He continued to walk towards her, stepping slowly only inches apart now as they stood in front of each other.

“I should be going now. There’s people expecting me and—“ But as she began to step past him, an arm reached out, hand wrapping itself around her wrist.

“I wept,” he began to speak, answering the puzzled look on the princess’s face. “The first time I lay eyes on all the bodies. It was my first time on a battlefield and afterward I felt nothing but sorrow.” His words hung heavy in the air. “War is war, princess. And with family? I dare not imagine. But you have us. You have me,” he spoke softly while searching her eyes.

The young lord realized he still held her wrist and released her, snapping the princess harshly back into reality as he let her go.

“Benjicot Blackwood,” she spoke his name sternly. The young man straightened up, gaze never faltering hers.

“Thank you. I hope to see you at the meeting,” a hopeful gleam shined in her eyes as she spoke. Her body then glided past him, her shoulder brushing his arm as she passed.

The current state of her family was doomed. But her mother’s rightful place on the throne didn’t have to be. No, she was going to fight. She was going to fight with any and every weapon possible, dull or not.

A smile danced at the corner of the young lord’s lips as she passed by. His head bowed for a moment as he responded, “Of course, princess.”

Her figure walked away from him, towards the direction of camp. If there was one thing for certain, Ben knew they’d succeed with the princess at their aid. He recognized the look in her eyes all too well. The princess was proving to be all the more captivating than he could have hoped.