#also click/tap for full size i beg

[cualquiere]

[proserpina-magnus]

hi! i love your writing so much and am wondering if you could do a regulus x reader smut where it's the readers first time (innocence kink to the max also praise) and she is worried she wont be good?

Bestie I sorta forgot to add a few of the main points, but I included the majority so I hope you like it. I made it a tad bit longer then my other blurbs so I hope that makes up for it! xoxo

Regulus Black And Thigh Fucking [ + major innocence kink ]

[ Warning: fem!reader, innocences kink, daddy kink, size difference, thigh fucking, slight subspace, slight tit sucking, use of the words “bunny” & “Angel” ]

Word count: 2.2k

THIS IS NOT EDITED

You felt a burning itch encase your bottom half, your legs wobbly as you opened the door to Regulus dorm. You peaked your head in, looking around for him. Regulus turned his head at the sound, a gentle smile forming on his lips as he realized who opened the door.

"Hi Angel, come in," Regulus motioned, he sat on his bed, a book between his fingers before closing it and setting it softly to the side.

Regulus waited patiently as you walked into the colder room, turning slightly so you can close the door. You walked over to where he sat, a guilty remorse present on your face.

"What's wrong?" Regulus worriedly asked, his legs spreading open so he can pull you in between them. His hands rub your hips, dipping to hold your back firmly.

"It hurts.." you mumble, not sure why you had felt this desperate need. Regulus held worry in his eyes, he pushed you back slightly so he could look over you.

"What hurts? Did you fall?" He asked, he couldn't find any visible wounds. Regulus wondered if you had started your period and was looking for some sympathy, his hand comes to rub your stomach.

"No... not m'period," you mumble, Regulus looked up towards your eyes with a confused expression. "I don't know what's wrong bunny, you have to tell me,"

You feel embarrassed, not knowing how to phrase your predicament. Instead, you take his hand and guide it under your skirt. You whimper as you place his hand against your soaked panties.

"Right there," you whisper, Regulus eyes look down slowly and follow the way his hand disappears under the thick fabric. His eyes slowly closed, a hum on his lips as he rubbed his index finger against the soaked material. You instantly jumped, legs squeezing around his hand as you gripped onto his shoulders.

"Oh baby, when did this start?" Regulus asked, tapping your thighs so you'll loosen up. You followed his instructions, thighs parting for his fingers. He pushed aside the stained material as he feels just how needy you are. When you don't reply, Regulus hand cups your jaw and guides you to look at him. "When did you start feeling like this?" He asked again, noticing the way you become nervous.

"Yesterday. When you were playing quidditch," You tell him, feeling more embarrassment flood your face with red. Tears start to well up in your eyes as you let out a silent cry. "I'm sorry Reggie, I don't know what's wrong with me. Please make it go away,"

Regulus clued into your frantic state, piecing together that you had no clue what was going on. He took responsibility for this, feeling guilty for not realizing the way you had clung onto him after his quidditch match.

"It's alright bunny, let me help you. I should've realized yesterday, 'm sorry you felt needy all night," Regulus apologized, bringing you into a soft kiss as your fluids dripped onto his fingers. He hadn't even touched you yet and you had been soaking, it was driving him crazy.

"Couldn't sleep daddy, I felt funny," you whispered, not realizing how easy it was for you to fall into a submissive state. Regulus felt his heart squeeze, his cock twitching against his pants at the nickname you've given him.

"Shh, I know baby. Daddy's going to take care of you now, I've got you," Regulus played along, bringing you to the bed as he guided you to lay back. You felt exposed when he unzipped your skirt and slid it down your thighs. Your panties soaked with need, Regulus had to resist letting out a groan.

He helped you out of your shirt and bra, letting out a gentle "tsk" when he saw you cover up. He petted your hair to ease you, his other hand pulling your arm away from your breasts.

"Please don't hide yourself," Regulus asked, his eyes taking a long look at your chest. Your breasts were flushed and swollen, your nipples hard and untouched. Every part of you had been untouched, Regulus let out a content sigh.

"M'sorry daddy, I'm so stupid," you fret, feeling terrible for upsetting him. Regulus let out a gentle coo, his hand resting on your hips as he leaned down to capture your lips in a delicate kiss.

"You're not stupid bunny. I don't want to hear you say that again, do you understand?" He asked, pulling back so he can wipe your tears away. When you nodded, he gave you a soft smile as he tilted your face up with his knuckle.

With his thumb on your chin, he turns your face to the right. You squeeze your eyes shut, nauseous with what he's going to do. Regulus took his time looking over your nude body, sucking on his tongue to calm himself.

"You're so pretty, just wanna use you until you're crying and whimpering for me, would you like that bunny?" Regulus tutted, enjoying the way your thighs closed and rubbed for friction. His hands slide down to your breast, his cold fingers cupping your tit.

"Please Reggie," you begged loosely, just wanting the desperation to ease. Regulus let out a gentle laugh, his fingers running down the side of your torso before he applied pressure just below your navel. "Can't wait to see my cock filling you, probably can't even take it all,"

You felt a twitch of degradation from his words, your body warm as you slid your legs wide open for him. You felt a need to prove him wrong, wanting to be good and take him fully. "No I can take it, I can take daddy's cock," you blabber out, Regulus looked up towards you with a shocked expression.

"Bunny, do you have any idea what you're doing me?" Regulus breathed out, an enchanted look in his eyes as he quickly tugs on your panties. You shake your head, a pout on your lips. Regulus took your smaller hand into his much larger one, dragging it down to place it against his clothed cock. You sat up instantly, eyes wide as it dangled at his large bulge straining against his slacks.

"That's not going to fit," you mumbled, eyes wide like saucers as you keep staring at the full cock pressed under his clothes. Your mouth watered from the thought, Regulus took your face in his hand and tilted it up. He wore a smirk on his face, dipping down to press a kiss against your wettened lips.

"I thought you said you would take me like a good girl?" Regulus kissed down your neck, his hands squeezing your hips. He nipped just below your ear, before whispering lowly; "you wouldn't lie to me would you bunny?"

"Daddy you're too big, what if it hurts?" You protested, stomach squeezing as you thought about the tear. Regulus gave a confident smile into your shoulder, kissing down your chest.

His mouth opened, taken your hardened nub between his lips. You let out a whiny whimper, your fingernails digging into his shoulder.

"Trust me bunny, I would never hurt you. How about I fuck your thighs hm? Rub my cock against your pussy without fucking you full," Regulus offered, his lips moving down your stomach. He kissed just below your navel, his hands firmly against your hips as you squirmed.

"Will it hurt?" You ask, your hands moving to his hair as you pull him back up for a kiss. Regulus kissed you deeply, his hands moving to grip your thighs.

"It's not supposed to, do you want to try it?" He asked, you gave a shaky nod. Regulus kissed you once more, standing up as he discarded his warm jumper. You flexed on your knees, hands obediently pressed to your thighs as you sat and watched.

"Someone's a good girl," Regulus commented, your face warm as you felt another nervous swarm of butterflies in your tummy. "I wanna be your good girl, daddy," you declared, mouth thick with saliva as Regulus slipped out of his shirt. His skin was a light olive colour, you could see the outline of his pelvic bone poking out through his slacks. Your eyes holding a stare with his hard cock.

"You're already my good girl," Regulus said while standing closer, he chuckled when you continued to stare at his bulge. He directed your head up, looking down towards you. "Turn around and prop your ass up,"

You did just that, leaning up to get a small kiss before directing yourself to turn around. You leaned forwards, hands pressed in his mattress as you arched to prop your ass in the air. Regulus let out a long breath at the sight, your wet cunt presented just for him.

He leaned down, blowing cold air against your plump folds. You jerked, not prepared for the way it felt so good against your hot cunt. You felt another bolt of nausea when you heard his belt click open, hearing the shuffle of clothes drop against the floor.

You try and turn back to see his now exposed cock, but Regulus only holds it out of view. "Don't be greedy," He contorts, his fingers moving to push through your folds.

You shrivel, grabbing a pillow as you hide your face in it. Regulus sees the way you tense up, he places a gentle rub on your thigh as he continues to coat his fingers for lubrication.

"Shh, you're doing so well. Sorry I snapped at you bunny, just didn't want to ruin your innocence," He explained, his now wetted hand moving down to your locked thighs. He spreads your liquid in between your thighs, you grow confused at his movements.

"What are you doing daddy?" You whine, feeling faint from how little you're getting pleased. Regulus only breaths out, pumping his cock a few times as he leans down quickly to spit against your folds. You gasp, head turning at the feeling.

"Shh baby, I can't fuck your thighs with no lubrication," Regulus responds, his spit dripping from your cunt. You twitch, turning your head back to lay against the pillow.

"Daddy please, hurts," You mumble through the pillow, Regulus gives a pat to your ass for comfort as he takes his cock and pushes it through your thighs. "I know bunny, please be patient,"

Regulus holds your thighs closed, grinding into your tight thighs as he fucks them fast. You move with his body, gasping each time he slides up and rubs against your swollen clit. After a few more thrusts, he completely switches to rut against your folds.

He's careful not to enter unwanted, taking his time with dragging his wet cock against your puffy cunt. You can't help but let out grateful moans, your body pushing into his for more friction.

"Bunny, fuck keep squeezing your thighs just like that," Regulus let out a heavy groan, his fingers looping under your hipbone as he fucks you back into him. You let out a cry from the sensitivity, clamping your thighs closed for him.

"Feels funny," you whimper, a building sensation of warmth spreading through your stomach. Regulus had to refrain himself from fucking you silly, his clipped nails digging into your warm flesh as he pulls you back to glide against his cock in a deeper pace. "Just let it out bunny, it'll feel good I promise,"

Your moans grow louder, mouth ajar as your eyes shut on impulse. Your clit is swollen with sensitivity, your back arching as you feel every vein from his cock. You have to force yourself to keep your thighs closed, body numb when a greater sensation fills you.

You fall limp from the pressure, hands squeezing weakly at the sheets as you let out a sniffle. Regulus moves his cock back down to your lower thighs, fucking them for his own release.

"So good bunny, you looked so pretty," Regulus praises, his fingers tracing your spine as he gives you a final tug. Your ass flush against his stomach as he comes all over his sheets below you.

"Does it still hurt bunny?" Regulus asked, pulling away with his used cock. He slipped on a pair of briefs, sighing at his sensitivity. You huff, face implanted in the pillow.

"No, daddy made me feel better," you tell him, leaning up with your leftover strength. You turn around, nuzzling yourself to lay against his chest. His hand comes to rub your back, kissing your forehead.

"It's not daddy anymore bunny, I'm Reggie," He corrects, casting a quick charm to clean up the mess left over. You shake your head, eyes shutting from exhaustion.

"No bunny, keep your eyes open for me," Regulus tells you while pulling you back slightly. You give him a longing expression of desperation, eyes drooping slightly.

"I wanna sleep daddy," you whine, head pushing back against his chest. Regulus pulls you back gently, his hand placed firmly against the back of your neck. "No bunny, I'm Reggie,"

"Water," you tell him, biting the inside of your lip as you start to fuzz out of your state. Regulus opens a water bottle, holding it to your lips as he tilts it. You pull back after a few long sips, water dripping down your chin. With a clearer mindset, you feel Regulus dab at your chin with a cloth.

"Thank you, Reggie," you mumble, head falling back against his chest. Regulus heart rams against his chest, thankful that you didn't stay in that state for too long.

"Just taking care of you, bunny. I'm always going to take care of you,"

[suna-reversed]

HI CAN I REQUEST 58 61 AND 99 WITH SUKUNA🥺

Kitchen encounters with the King of Curses

SUKUNA X F!READER// fluff+ nsfw!!// 1.9k+

the 3 kitchen encounters that changed your relationship with Sukuna. 

#58 “Do you know how beautiful you are? It’s truly distracting.” 

 #61 “If you don’t change out of those shorts and into some pants I’ll have them around your ankles by lunch time.”

#99 “You know, there wasn’t a single thing to eat in the kitchen until you walked in.” 

(Tags/Warnings- starts out with crack and fluff but MAJOR smut and filth at the end! Degradation, Oral (receiving), creampie, being bent over a table??)

A/N: you can either consider the reader to be in a poly relationship with both Yuji and Sukuna, or you can just take Yuji as your room-mate/friend. 

-----

“Oh my god stop it- what is wrong with you argh-”

“I will burn down this kitchen the next time you try to put such an atrocious thing near me again-”

You snorted in the corner, hands coming up to suppress your uncontrollable laughter. You never thought there would be a day you’d watch the mouth of your lover try to attack it’s own host (and your room-mate) after Yuji had promptly tried to pop in a piece of coffee jelly into the mouth on his palm. Noticing your presence, the curse spat a few bitter words at you too while Yuji pleaded for your help in the background,

“He said he was hungry!” Yuji exclaimed, throwing his hands up.

“Well, I don’t think he did anything wrong then Sukuna, it’s not like you specified what you were hungry for...” You replied, tone laced with playfulness as you watched the mouth disappear from Yuji’s palm.

It was silent for a while, and you heard Yuji sigh with relief, but it was short-lived as the mouth once again reappeared on his neck, a smirk growing as it lowly said,

“Now that I think of it, I do know what I’m hungry for. You know, there wasn’t a single thing to eat in the kitchen until you walked in.”

The comment was enough to make heat crawl up your entire face, prompting Yuji to shoo away at the mouth with his hand (not a great idea because he did get bitten in the process). 

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

“Where’s the milk?”

You yelped, almost dropping the said milk carton at the sudden intrusion of a deep voice that you didn’t think you would ever get used to. Turning around, you realised that it wasn’t just a mouth on some part of Yuji’s body that spoke, but the king of curses in flesh himself. Very much in flesh indeed as he walked around in just a pair of sweatpants. Concentrating hard on keeping your eyes above his chest, you asked,

“Must you get rid of the shirt every single time you shift?”

“Yes” he replied without missing a beat. You pretended to ignore the sharp-set pair of eyes that were darting down your bare legs.

“And why do you need milk ? I didn’t think you required food for sustenance...or even preferred it.”

“I need it to take a bath of course.”

You scrunched your eyebrows, head tilting in confusion as you contemplated if he was being serious.

He countered with a look of his own that made it seem like his request was the most obvious thing in the world.

“And perhaps..you can join me” He said while covering the distance between you both in two long strides

Your face flustered at his suggestive tone, a hand reaching down to tug at your over-sized shirt nervously. His eyes darkened as his eyes raked down your body once more. Your breath hitched in your throat as he placed a hand right beside your head on the kitchen shelf, leaning forward until you could feel his breath on your neck,

“If you don’t change out of those shorts and into some pants , I’ll have them around your ankles by lunch time.” he whispered.

You gasped, half intimidated- half excited as his other hand lightly trailed up your side. But then just as quickly, you felt the warmth of his bare skin leave as he took a few steps back away from you. Noticing the sudden emptiness in your hand, you snapped your head up, your eyes meeting a pair of mischievous ones , whose possessor now held the milk carton in one hand as he walked away whistling a tune you didn’t quite know.

---------nsfw below cut!----------

It would be an understatement to say that Yuji’s mission had been a train-wreck. The biggest flaw being that you, a civilian, not only got dragged into it, but were also gravely injured. The higher ups had only let him get away with it because despite being utterly beaten and ruined himself, he had still risked his life to make sure he carried you to safety. No one knew that it wasn’t actually Yuji, who had ended up succumbing to his injuries, but the malicious curse instead who had gently nosed at your hair, carrying you back home as he, in his words, “forbid you from leaving him alone in this ramshackled world.”

That was the last you had seen of him, Yuji being caught up in meetings with the higher ups as you stayed in the now protected apartment, still recovering. And now here you were, standing in the kitchen in a comfy pair of shorts and sweatshirt, waiting for your tea to heat up in the microwave.

“Well, well, what did I say about you not changing out of those shorts...” 

Your entire body stilled for a second at the voice that had become as familiar to you as the back of your hand. Turning around, your eyes met his, relieved that he was finally back. 

Sukuna seemed to be in a daze as you walked towards him, your arms encasing his torso as you buried your head into his chest. When you didn’t feel him embrace you back, you pulled away worriedly. You knew it wasn’t just the strain on Yuji’s body that made him seem tired, his eyes were sunken, almost hollowed out as he continued to stare into your face. Your hand reached up to caress his face as a way of asking if he was okay. That finally seemed to snap him back to reality as leaned further into your touch.

“Do you know how beautiful you are? It’s truly distracting.” He mumbled onto the skin of your palm, eyes moving up to meet yours.

Your heart swelled with joy at the raw tenderness in his words. Getting up on your tip-toes, you pressed your lips to his, hands moving to entangle in his hair. Small pecks turned into deep passionate kisses as your tongues clashed with each other. You lightly squealed as his arms wrapped around you, easily picking you up and putting you on the marble counter-top.

For once you were mad that he hadn’t ripped apart Yuji’s shirt as your hands slid under it to run your nails across his muscular abdomen. He got the message as he deftly pulled it over his head in one go, doing the same for your shirt and bra that were ripped off of you and discarded somewhere on the floor. Your shorts soon enough joining the pile.

Sukuna’s hands wandered and travelled all across the expanse of your body. Everywhere except for right where you wanted him. His mouth sucked hickeys onto the skin of your neck as his hands fondled your breasts, rolling around and pinching your sensitive nipples.

You cried out his name, a plea asking for more. It was the sweetest sound he had ever heard and the curse decided that it won’t be the last time he does so. His lips trailed down your body, making sure to leave a trail of evidence behind, teeth coming into the mix to leave a bite-mark every now and then. Looking up at you from between your thighs, he had never had a better view. His mouth watered at the sight of your dripping heat as he pulled apart your legs. You were literally spread out like a feast on the table, a feast that was all for him to enjoy.

“Plea-please- need you to touch me.”

“Patience, my love.”

He ran a digit around your sensitive nub, another finger dipping down to add some lubrication to his perverse ministrations. You swore you saw stars as he finally leaned forward, pulling your thighs over his shoulders as his tongue rolled out to lick a broad stripe across your folds. The moans of your pleasure mixed in with the slurping sounds of him licking away at your juices only seemed to spur him on further as his lips suctioned around your swollen clit, making you buck your hips into his face. One of his hands slid up to knead one of your tits as he continued to devour you. You suddenly felt a wet sensation across your nipple, looking down to see the mouth on his palm nibbling at your bud. The mouth on his palm pulled your nipple into its mouth at the same time that Sukuna’s tongue latched around your clit, his teeth lightly grazing the hood making you scream out his name as your orgasm crashed through you.

Your chest was heaving, eyes still closed when he came up, teeth nibbling on the side of your jaw as his hand pushed away stray hair out of your face,

“You were so needy just a while ago. Already tired are we?” He asked in a playful mocking tone.

“Not in the-” You panted slightly, “...least bit.”

He looked up at you, hooded eyes filled with lust as he licked a stripe right across your jaw to your ear, before moving away, making you whine.

“So impatient...” He commented, clicking his tongue as he pulled you up, melding his lips with yours once more as your hands moved to explore the expanse of his broad shoulders.

“I want you bent over this counter. Now.” He growled out against your lips, barely moving back as you rushed to hop down and turn over, his hands already pushing your back down.

One of his hands reached to the front to rub your slick heat, the other pulling his thick member out of his briefs, a moan escaping your mouth as he lightly tapped it against the inside of your thigh.

“ah- fuck-” You moaned out loud as two of his fingers filled you up, but it wasn’t enough, “Sukuna- please- need you to inside me so bad” You choked on your words as you begged.

“Only since you asked so nicely.” was the response as the hand that was covered in your slick now moved up to wrap across your throat as Sukuna lined himself up with your folds. You threw your head back against his chest, gripping the edge of the table as he entered you.

“I’m not even halfway through and you’re already so stretched out...stuffed all full of my cock like the needy little slut you are huh?”

Your eyes rolled back at his filthy words, hips jutting out towards him more as he filled you completely. Both of you moaned in unison as he started to move, hands gripping onto your hips tight enough to leave bruises as he relentlessly thrusted into you. You groaned in both pain and pleasure as a harsh slap came down onto your ass, followed by an arm lifting one of your legs up. His cock brushed against that one sensitive spot inside your walls at the new angle, his thrusts getting deeper with each stroke as you came undone once again with a loud scream, his name like a plea on your lips. Sukuna found his own release soon enough, pulling out to spray the lower half of your back with his seed, making a mess everywhere.

You were in a post-sex daze as you felt yourself being lifted up and carried into the bathroom. Soon enough, you found yourself being lowered into a hot bath, another body joining you as arms wrapped around your figure, making you sigh and nuzzle into the familiar scent. You felt your eyes fall shut, a small smile still etched on your lips, unbeknown to the two pair of eyes on the curse’s face, filled with adoration, as they stared down at you. 

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

The next morning, you sat on the same countertop you had been utterly ruined on top of last night, the eyes of your lover  (who had reluctantly carried you out from the comfort of your bed because you were hungry at 6 am and couldn’t walk by yourself) met yours as he pulled out the box of blueberries from the fridge.

“Maybe you’d like to give another chance to coffee jelly now-”

“I will kill you-”

“I’ll feed it to you if you want you kno-”

You were cut off by a pair of lips pressing against your own in a gentle kiss,

“I have something much more delicious right here already.”

[ilovefandoms102]

Rough Love

Pairing: Chris Evans x Plus Size Reader

Summary: Chris notices bruises he left...

Note: AHHHH OMGOMG i got such a good response on my Chris blurb which you can find here, that I decided to make a sort of series with Plus Size Reader! I hope you guys enjoy this and let me know what you think!🥰

I’m also going to start adding warnings on my posts that contain smut just in case anyone is triggered by certain sexual acts.

Warnings🛑: smut(choking, hair pulling, scratching, bruising, spanking, degradation, dom Chris, oral(m/f receiving), penetration, unprotected sex)

Click here if you want to be added to my taglist!

Parts in bold italics are flash backs!

=====================================

Chris stared down at his beautiful girl, absolutely horrified. His memories of last night came flooding to the front of his brain, starting at the finger shaped bruises on your jaw…

=====================================

Chris had a hold of your jaw, forcing you to keep your eyes on him as he pounded into you. You had been mouthing off to him all night, and he had enough of it. He had your legs over his shoulders, forcing you to take every inch of him. “You’re quiet now my love, can’t talk full of my cock can you baby?” Chris taunted, smiling even more when you shook your head no. He smacked your ass hard, adding to the already existing handprints that would more than likely bruise.You loved it though, and you let him know by cumming around him. “Baby fuck!” you screamed, legs shaking as Chris kept at you. He suddenly pulled out, his grip on your jaw leaving as he crawled up your body. You scooted down the bed as he straddled you, knowing what was about to come. “Gonna fuck your face just like your pussy baby,” he growled, shoving his cock down your throat. You moaned around him, relaxing your throat as much as you could. He groaned as your tongue flicked around his tip, his hands going on either side of your head before he started thrusting almost at the same speed he would if he was fucking you. “My princess loves having her throat fucked doesn’t she?” Chris questioned, but he already knew the answer. He smiled wide as you tried to nod. Chris grabbed a hold of your hair, forcing your head back into the bed as he went faster to chase his release. Spit was flying everywhere, tears were flowing from the corners of your eyes as you gagged around his enormous cock. “Fuck, ‘m gonna cum down your pretty throat baby.” Chris moaned, his eyes closing. His cum shot down your throat, coating it as you sucked to get every last drop. =====================================

The both of you loved it rough, you had even admitted to him once that you loved the bruises he left. But, he felt something different this time. He felt like a monster, gawking at the darker bruises around your neck.

=====================================   He had you on your hands and knees before yanking on your hair so your back was against his chest as he railed you. His hands were gripped tightly around your throat, cutting off your air supply. Your moans came out as mere squeaks, Chris grunted in your ear as you squeezed tighter around his cock. You had one hand on his ass, leaving crescent shapes as your orgasm approached. Your other hand kept a hold on his forearm, a safety measure for both of you in case you needed to have him let up a little. “Gonna cum for me my pretty girl? Hmmm?” Chris moaned, moving one of his hands to spank your clit which had you bucking against him. “Again,” you whimpered, feeling so close but just wanted that extra push. “My dirty slut likes her pussy spanked doesn’t she?” Chris asked, doing it again and again. “FUCK!” you shouted, coming undone as Chris restlessly spanked your pussy until you squirted everywhere. Chris rubbed your clit hard, causing your orgasm to intensify. He hammered into you, holding on for dear life as you started shaking. “My dirty girl, you made a mess.” Chris growled in your ear, biting your shoulder as he came inside you. Another orgasm hit you like a tidal wave, having to tap Chris to move his hand because you were so sensitive. =====================================

Chris moved the sheet that covered the two of you, looking down your body absolutely disgusted with himself. He stopped on the teeth marks that littered your thighs and the ones he could see on your ass, gulping as more flashbacks came.

=====================================   You were perched up on his face, the man eating you out like he needed it to survive. He stopped only for a minute to leave bites on the insides of your thighs which he knew you loved seeing. Chris pushed down on your back, throwing your upper body down towards his hard dick. Your mouth immediately watered, tongue poking out and licking all around the tip. You squealed when a harsh smack came down on your ass. “No teasing my love, you know the rules.” Chris growled, scratching down where his handprint had formed. Your moan was sinful, so pathetic even Chris chuckled. “My dirty, dirty little girl.” he smiled, shoving you back down on his face. He pushed you further to leave more teeth marks on your ass cheeks, his favorite part of you. You sucked him off faster, trying to get him as close as you were to cumming all over his face. Chris had his hands clamped around you, burying his face to taste every last drop. He could tell you were close by the way you were grinding down on him, so his focus moved to your clit. He sucked hard, his tongue flicking it rapidly. You did the same with his cock, both of you moaning into each other. Both your orgasms hit at the same time, Chris moving down to slurp up your cum as you took every drop he gave you of his cum. Chris pulled you off of him, spanking your ass a few times in the process. “My good slut,” he praised, your shutter causing him to chuckle. =====================================

“Why are you staring at me?” you asked sleepily, kissing his cheek softly. “Do they hurt?” Chris asked, a crack in his voice made your eyes shoot open. “What?” you questioned, looking down at your body which he was staring at in horror. “I’m so so sorry my love.” Chris whispered, his fingers shaking as they barely glided over his markings. “Chris why are you sorry? I told you I wanted it like that.” you spoke so softly it was barely above a whisper. “I know but I-I feel like a monster.” he stammered, eyes never leaving your body. You pulled the covers back up over yourself, bringing Chris’s arm around you over the sheets. Your hand pulled his chin up to look at you, his eyes glistening with tears. “You didn’t hurt me, and I know you’ll never hurt me. I loved every second of last night, and I love every mark I have from you.” you spoke softly, yet firmly hoping your message got through to him. His head went into your neck, his tears splashing against your skin. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, rubbing up and down his back as you soothed him. It broke your heart to see him like this, but at the same time it fluttered because you knew how much you meant to him now. “I’m ok my love,” you whispered, leaving gentle kisses across his collar bone. “Don’t leave me, please.” he begged. “Never ever, I love you and you mean the world to me.” you professed, your hands pulling his cheeks back to look into his eyes. You wiped under them with your thumbs, leaning and kissing his lips softly. “I love you more,” he whispered as he fell into your touch easily.

=====================================

Tagging:

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[seita]

— size kink headcanons 4. [hq!!]

ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇs: ᴀᴏɴᴇ, ғᴜᴛᴀᴋᴜᴄʜɪ, ᴋɪᴛᴀ, ᴀᴛsᴜᴍᴜ, ᴏsᴀᴍᴜ, + sᴜɴᴀ.

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⇦ part 3 | part 5 ⇨

⤑ 𝙧𝙚𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙨 𝙘𝙡𝙤𝙨𝙚𝙙.

»»   ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ──────  ««   

-ˏ͛ date techˏ͛-  

— takanobu aone.

≻ he has it but doesn’t know that it’s like an actual kink ≻ he’s always in awe when you take his cock because he knows he’s big ≻ you always beg him to touch your clit while he sinks his cock in ≻ and he loves it because it makes your little pussy flutter around his length ≻ he just loves that he can make you feel so good with his big cock

+

he let out a little breath as he sunk his cock in a little bit more, you had already taken half his length and were still begging for more.

“nobu...” you sighed, eyes fluttering, “touch me, please, it’s too much...”

he grunted, resting his weight on one forearm above your head to dip his other hand between your thighs. he found your clit and circled his fingers around it, feeling your walls squeeze tightly around his length.

you sighed happily, reaching up to grab onto his broad shoulders, “f-feels so good, nobu...you fill me so well...”

he finally bottomed out, resting his face in the crook of your neck as you hugged him close to you. you panted in his ear, whimpering and moaning as he continued to play with your clit until your body tensed up.

with a pleasured squeal, you came, thighs trembling around his waist as your walls gushed and spasmed.

— kenji futakuchi.

≻ he thrives on this shit. ≻ he especially loves when it hurts ≻ it literally gives him a sick sense of pride ≻ watching you struggle to take his cock ≻ boosts his ego ≻ and he will endlessly tease you for it ≻ he knows all the right buttons to push for this kink tbh.

+

“you’re so cute trying to take all my cock,” he teases, grinning at the way your face pinches up the deeper he sinks in.

“k-kenji!” you gasp, pressing your hands against his chest when the stretch becomes too much, your instincts tell you to push him away.

“hey now, none of that,” he chuckles, batting your hands away easily, “you should be grateful when i give you my cock, you know? i make you cum so hard but you want to be all whiny and act like a baby because it hurts.”

“s-sorry...i-it...it’s too big...” you whimper, bringing your hands up to press against his check once again.

he allows them to stay there this time, however, but continues to sink in despite your whining and complaining.

“you take me all the time, though,” he feigns a pout, cock throbbing when you whine as he finally bottoms out, “see? you can do so well when you’re not acting like a little bitch.”

-ˏ͛ inarizakiˏ͛-  

— shinsuke kita.

≻ he likes watching you struggle to take him bc its hot ≻ but he does not like when it hurts you ≻ even if you try to convince him you like when it hurts ≻ he’s not gonna go for it ≻ so a lot of prep goes into it for him ≻ he likes how easily he can make you cum ≻ and how much you have to stretch to accommodate him ≻ he finds it cute

+

you were so wet that you were dripping and you just wanted his cock so bad.

“please, shin,” you begged, arching your hips against his cock as he rutted against your folds, “i’m ready, please fuck me.”

he hummed, fisting his length to tap against your clit, making your thighs shake, “are you sure? i dont want to hurt you.”

“i-it won’t hurt please!” you cry, nearly at your wits end.

if he didn’t give you his cock soon, you were seriously going to go crazy. you had already been made to cum three times and you were just ready to be fucked.

you were about to open your mouth to whine again when he suddenly pressed the fat head of his cock against your entrance, pushing in. he watched your face closely for any signs of pain, his thumb finding your clit to swirl around the bud. your eyes rolled back and you let out a cry of pleasure; he was going so slow, making you feel every inch of him.

he couldn’t contain his smile when he felt the way your body was already trembling. he barely even had to do anything and you were already on edge again for him.

— atsumu miya.

≻ he’s like futakuchi ≻ but a little more cruel about it ≻ he likes to see you cry ≻ and hear you beg that his cock is just too big ≻ all while you tremble and cream on him ≻ he likes to make manipulate you a little bit into taking his cock to “make him proud” and so “you’re a good girl”

+

“you’re so pretty when you’re crying for me,” he chuckles, watching the tears fall down your pretty face, lip tucked between your teeth as he works his thick cock in and out of your cunt, “c’mon, cry more for me. i love it.”

“y-you’re too big, ‘tsumu,” you sob, clutching the front of his shirt in your fists so hard your knuckles were white.

“yeah? does it hurt your little cunt?” he asks, a grin plastered on his face.

you nodded, making him click his tongue in disappointment, “if you’re not even grateful, i shouldn’t even be botherin'. after i was so nice too, makin' you cum on my tongue...but you can’t even let me stuff your pussy like i deserve, huh? too bad...i thought you were gonna be a good girl too.”

you whine, “i am a good girl.”

“yeah? then show me...” he grunts, feeling your juices beginning to drip down h is balls, “and take my cock without whinin’.”

— osamu miya.

≻ he knows his cock is big ≻ but he’s not overly cocky about it ≻ he’s also not very into watching you struggle to take it so much that it hurts ≻ he does, however, enjoy talking dirty to you ≻ about how your cunt looks when its being stuffed full ≻ or how tight you clench around him because he’s just too big.

+

“you’re stretched so far,” he mutters, thumbing your clit as he grinds his hips to bury his length deeper, “does it hurt?”

“n-no!” you moan, “f-feels so good ‘samu...”

he smiles, soft and almost loving, “good, i want you to cum for me, yeah? make a mess like a good girl.”

“fuck,” you keen, arching your hips to try and take even more of him in, even though he had already bottomed out, “please, yes! ‘samu, yo-your cock is s’good...feel so full...”

he chuckles, pulling his cock back before sinking back into you with a gracious roll of his hips. your back arches and your cunt clamps down tight around him.

“you’re such a dirty girl,” he chuckles, beginning to properly fuck you, “begging for a cock too big, close to cumming when i haven’t even done anything...you should be ashamed...” he grins when his mean words make your pussy gush.

— rintarou suna.

≻ he’s sort of a lazy guy ≻ so he lets you use his cock how you want ≻ but ≻ he can’t deny that it fills him with satisfaction knowing how difficult it is for you to take his cock ≻ but he never actually helps you out ≻ he lets you do your thing, wearing a lazy smirk as you gasp when you take too much too fast and have to pop his cock back out to start again

+

although it didn’t feel nearly as good as when you were bouncing on his cock, he appreciated how pretty you looked as you ground yourself down on him. the movements stirred his cock within your walls, allowing him to touch every sweet spot you had.

“did you finally take all of me?” he asks, as if he can’t see or feel the way he’s buried completely within your spasming cunt.

you nod, biting your lip as you let your head fall back with a sigh, “feels good...”

“yeah? why don’t you be good and bounce for me then,” he asked, wearing a smirk that made your heart flutter, “it’s my cock you’re using, you might as well be nice and make me feel good too.”

you brace your hands on his chest and slowly rise up a bit before dropping your weight back down. he reaches even deeper and you can’t help but cry out. he reaches up to wrap his hands around your wrists, keeping your hands pinned down.

“you can do better than that,” he criticized.

determined to please him, you let almost all of his cock out before taking it once more with a quick move of your hips. he bumps your cervix and your body almost collapses as the painful pleasure the action brings.

all the while, he sits back and watches you impale yourself on a cock too big for you.

»»   ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ──────  ««  

© all content belongs to seita 2020. do not modify or repost.  

[wonderwomanfantasy]

Kinktober day 8

Size kink w/ Kirisima

masterlist

YES I DID READ EVERYTHING UNDER THE RED DADDY RIOT TAG BEFORE WRITING THIS also whoops a kiri fic right after a tetsutesu one I’m lost in the himbo sauce. 

Warnings: size kink, rough sex, slight fear play, feral Kirishima, breeding/ impregnation kink, cream pie, overstimulation. 

word count: 1,200 (about)

Summary: Kirishima is a big guy, big enough that you wondered how you could ever take him, but lucky for you Kirishima is persistent and he’s going to make himself fit.  

“Are you scared? or are you shaking for other reasons?” Kirishima asked, his pointed teeth scraping over your neck, making goosebumps rise in his wake.

“I'm not scared,” you lied gulping. How could you not be at least a little scared of the man towering over you? Kirishima was nearly seven feet tall with biceps as thick as your thigh. His hands were at least twice the size of yours and even though you were a grown woman, you might as well be a child in comparison to him.

Kirishima lifted you easily, like you weighed nothing at all, and pinned you to the wall, his hips parting your thighs so he could nestle his clothed cock to your core. He had to stoop awkwardly to make it work but he didn’t seem to mind. You squirmed against him feeling the enormous bulge pressing against you. You looked at his hands again, how big was his cock going to be? and was he really going to make you take it all?

“then-” Kirishima’s deep voice pulled you out of your thoughts putting your attention solely on him again “-I have to assume that you are trembling because you’re just that turned on,” he chuckled. Kirishima tugged off your shirt, red riot merch as it happened. Kirishima’s eyes locked on your tits as the bounced. He whistled and licked his lips.

“No bra Honey? that’s dangerous,”  you flushed at his words and turned your head so you didn’t have to look him in the eye. A large hand caught your chin and forced you to look at him.

“don’t try to hide from me baby, you’re pretty and I want to see all of you okay?” He purred his eyes glinting dangerously. He guided his mouth to yours in a tender kiss. his other hand reached up to palm your breasts, the globes of flesh dwarfed by his large hand.

“I need you so bad baby, do you think you can take me?” He asked.

“I-I want you but I don’t know if I could take it E-” you whimpered wich only make him laugh his hands moved to cup your ass, holding you close to his chest as he pulled you from the wall.

“Don’t worry one-bit honey, we’ll stretch out your tight little cunt and I'll fit just fine,” he promised gently dropping you down on the bed, He smoothed his hands over your legs before slowly pulling down your leggings and underwear leaving you completely bare under him.

he tapped your knees and you spread your legs for him. His red eyes locked on to your pussy. He touched you gently, his fingers ghosting over your lips before pressing the pad of his finger pressed against your clit.

“First we gotta get you wet,” he purred applying pressure as he moved his finger in mindless patterns. your body was incredibly responsive to him, your cunt was wet before he had even started, and he left your lower lips drooling. Kirishima pushed a finger inside of you and already you felt full. He swirls the digit inside of you, thrusting it shallowly before attempting to add a second finger.

“Fuck,” you whimpered clawing at the sheets beneath you, balling the soft fabric in your fist

“Damn baby only two fingers and your cunt can’t take anymore, my cock is going to slipt you in half,” he cooed, even though his voice was soft and coaxing his fingers were brutal. He was a man on a mission, he switched between pounding into you and stroking your g-spot until you came, drenching his palm in slick. Kirishima smirks up at you before leaning down and licking his hand letting you watch as he tasted you.

“Erijou,” you whimper, and before you can beg for mercy his lips attach to your clit. all words died in your throat and melted into incoherent moans. You cum a second time when he adds a third finger.

“such a good girl for me, taking my fingers so well, your pretty little pussy stretches so well for Daddy,” he praises, spreading his fingers out making a W inside of you.

“You still want my dick inside you Baby or have you changed your mind?” He asked

“Please fuck me Kiri,” You begged your hands flying to his shoulders clawing at his exposed skin. He laughed.

“someone‘s feeling desperate huh? you already came twice and you still need more,” He teased, shrugging off his clothes. your cunt clenches seeing his cock.

“Christ,” you mutter to yourself, seeing just how impressive his length was. Kirishima smirked and wrapped his hand around his hard-on, palming himself as he straddled you.

Gently he laid his cock on your pelvis and gently started humping your stoumach. “See that baby? See how deep my cock ins going to go inside of you, fuck I really am going to rip you in half,” He growled grabbing your legs below your knees and pushed your thighs up to your chest before slipping inside of you.

You couldn’t help but clench around him as he filled you.

“try to relax babe,” he hissed. you did your best to do as he asked and he started pushing into you again.  Your moans filled the room until he bottomed out, granting you a small break.

“fuck- you’re still so tight,” he panted pressing a soft kiss to your temple

“move,” you begged hooking your arms around his neck.

The stretch was painful but you couldn’t help but beg for more.

“h-harder ‘Shima please faster,” you clawed at his shoulders your nails leaving angry red lines in their wake.

“You have to be careful begging like that Babygirl, Your cunt feels too good if I’m not careful I won’t be able to hold back and then I’ll really break you,” he warned inbetween pants as his hips began picking up speed. your mouth fell open and your eyes rolled back in your head

“p-please Kiri,” you whimpered and whith your permission, his thrusts became brutal causing the headboard of the bed to snap loudly agianst the wall. 

“I can feel your cunt forming into the shape of my cock, No one is ever going to be able to fuck you as good as I can, not after this,” he growled with a laugh

“Isn’t that right baby?”

“y-yes you’re the only one who can fuck me this good,” you praised. Kirishima gripped your hips and flipped you so you were on your hands and knees, your face burried in the pillows. His large hands circled your hips and started moving you back and forth. you wondered if he even needed you to move at all or if he was content jack hamering your body up and down his cock like some human fleshlight. 

“I’m so close I’m going to cum again,“ you warned tears filling your eyes as you approached your third orgasm.  One hand left your hips to brush away the tears of overstimulation as he pounded into you.

“go on sweetie, I want to feel you cum on my cock,” He purred bringing his  mouth to your shoulder in a passionate (one-sided) kiss. you burried your face in the pillows again, the soft sheets swallowing your cries of pleasure as you came again, your inner walls clamping impossibly tighter around his length, strangling his cock.

“F-Fuck,” He groaned against your lips and with one a final snap of his hips he came to his cock pulsating inside of you as he pumped cum inside of you.

His hands stroked over your back as you both came down from your high. he pulled out and hot cum dripped out of your overstimulated cunt, rolling in beads down your thighs. Kirishima clicked his tongue disaprovingly.

“Naughty girl, I gave you all this cum and now you’re trying to waist it,” he scolded. catching the warm semen with his fingers and pushed it back inside of you. you whimpered at the feeling, your walls spasmed around the intusion. He left his fingers inside. 

“we’re going to have to get you a plug or something for next time if this is how you react to getting creampied,” he said more to himself really,

you shuddered at the thought of a next time.  

[equestrianwritingsstuff]

Ooh! I just discovered you from the Bad Things Happen Bingo and I love your writing already! Could I potentially request the Bleeding Out prompt as a prequel for the Soup for the Sick story you wrote?

Thank you for the ask! I had to look up prequel to make sure that you meant before the events of Personalized Caretaker Part 1, and not after 😂. Here you go! In reference to this post.

So, with that note, this piece happened before Part 1 of Personalized Caretaker.

Personalized Caretaker Part 2

Part 1

Warnings: blood, vomit, losing consciousness, faking an injury, drugged whumpee, fear, implied touch starvation

*not edited*

~

Civilian hopped onto her couch, legs resting on the armrest and flicked on the television, going straight for Netflix.

It was a normal day, serene and tranquil with the perfect amount of work that made Civilian feel good inside.

She lazily gnawed on a piece of beef jerky and selected The Kissing Booth for personal enjoyment. Something cheesy and romantic to vibe to as she decompressed- even the best days required a period of relaxation.

But, her period of relaxation was very rudely interrupted by a thud. Right outside her door.

Civilian froze, heart racing, as her mind involuntarily replayed every known horror movie. She was the victim, the bad guy was going to break in and slash her throat as she unceremoniously says, "Who's there?"

Civilian shuddered, turning off the television, and slowly standing up. She grabbed her remote control as a weapon and very, very slowly, like a ninja, stalked stealthily up to the door.

"Who's there?" Civilian asked. Crap, her fatal flaw. Now the bad guy was going to rush out and murder her, then the police would come and there would be ten more killings and then there would be a ghost that was a moaning lady with pale skin and black hair that was hung in the woods seventy-some years ago and then it is reincarnated to be a doll that haunts children and-

Civilian drew in a deep breath. Don't freak out, don't freak out. It was probably a bird that weighed the size of a man- a bad man- that crashed into the window and died. And died. And died. And died. It was gone. Instead of using a remote, she should be using a plastic bag.

"Stop it Civilian, you paranoid freak," she yelled at herself, very loudly, her voive taut with utter fear as she peered through the shades.

The first thing she saw was blood.

Smeared blood in the direction of downwards, leading directly to...

A body.

Civilian felt nausea rise in her throat as literally the blood drained from her face. She wasn't the first victim, the poor human in opening credits, she was the next victim and her house was the killer's stash.

Probably to blame her for the death. To redirect the suspicion.

She had to hide the body and burn it before the cops came. Oh boy, the killer probably already called them. Crap crap crap.

Civilian whisked the door open, tossing her grand weapon of plastic and onto a nearby table, and prepared to wrap the body in a black bag.

The body moved.

Civilian screamed.

The body was not a body, it was a living man.

"Oh my gosh sir? Sir! Are you okay? Sir! Sir!" Civilian grabbed her hair and started to paced. "This can't be happening. This can't be happening. There is a bleeding man on my fricking doorstep." She started to ramble, muttering nonsensical curses and words that weren't going to help the dying man.

She was panicking, completely hyperventilating, by the time the man moved more than a shaky, uneven breath.

His eyes opened, revealing a drop-dead gorgeous icy blue. Eyelashes fluttered in the most enearding way as the man struggled to keep his consciousness to himself. Lips quivered as he whole face bunched together in an expression of pain.

Civilian didn't know if she could handle it.

"Are you doing to die?" She asked, rushed and abruptly. The man looked his clouded gaze on her. It took a moment, but he spoke,

"Heroes. Heroes, they are coming. Run, get outta here. Get outta here!"

Civilian shrieked, glancing hurriedly around. An insane plot twist, the good guys were the bad guys and...

Wait, this wasn't a movie.

And why was this man so scared of the heroes? Unless, of course, he was...

A villain.

Civilian covered her mouth and dropped to her knees. A v-v-villain? Was at her door? Civilian pinched herself to see if she was sleeping, but the nightmare didn't vanish. She was stuck in reality. Someone go get her a soda...

Villain's eyelids drooped as he weakly extended his arm. "Please," he begged. "I need help." Then his arm went slack.

Civilian was close to hysterics.

But nonetheless, out of fear, she grabbed the man's arm and attempted to pull him inside. She silently cursed. Her twigs for limbs could barely carry a box of mason jars; what made her think she could drag a two hundred pound full-grown adult male?

It was a taxing project that left Civilian in tangled limps, just begging for sleep. The man didn't stir at all, not even when Civilian's fist went into the gaping wound in his stomach.

Aw man, that was disgusting. Civilian vomited into a nearby trashcan before returning to figure out WHAT THE HECK TO DO!!!

"Can you wake up?" Civilian asked. "Please? I-i... how do I... how do I do this?"

Civilian was on the verge of tears, but then she reminded herself. This isn't a movie, he won't be miraculously healed after a good night's sleep.

With a quick reference to Google, Civilian finally felt prepared. She ran to get a pillow and slipped it under Villain's head. His eyelids fluttered as his eyes cracked open, but then they slipped close again.

Next she removed his shirt and was quite awestruck at the sight. Other than the painted crimson, his abdomen really was the definition of ab-domen. Hard muscles were lined perfectly.

Okay Civilian, someone is dying, don't admire it.

She placed one hand above and the other in the wound to staunch the bleeding. After the blood flow slowed, she lifted his legs to rest on the armrests in a similar position that she was in earlier.

Next, she jumped some hydrogen peroxide in and bandaged the wound. The villain never awoke.

Once the looming danger was gone, Civilian just stood there awkwardly. Dried blood crusted on his skin, but at least it wasn't wet.

So she stood there, arms crossed as meaningless thoughts rushed through her head.

What do call a male ladybug?

Is grass the earth's hair?

Do pineapples come from pine trees?

Why is a villain on my couch?

Civilian sat down, keeping a good three feet distance from the assumed murderer, and turned on the TV to resume her movie.

She leaned her head back, exhaustion tugging at her eyelids, but she refused sleep. Especially when a villain was slumbering next to her with one arm over his face.

He looked like a monkey.

One of those pale faced, brown haired primates from Curious George.

Not that his ears were splayed out or anything, the monkey had very tiny, collected ears that hid under his fluffy brown hair. His nose also held that itty-bitty appearance, perfectly formed to his face with the faintest trace of freckles.

He was cute.

Like a monkey.

Or not, as Civilian found monkeys utterly disgusting.

So cute, like a kitten.

Civilian smiled, looking down at her lap. Another thing Wikihow said that Civilian scowled at and ignored before. Put the victim's head in your lap to calm and keep them comfortable.

It wouldn't hurt, right? The villain wasn't even conscious, and he lost so much blood that he probably wouldn't remember anything if he did wake up.

She just met him.

Stress can increase heart rate which may be detrimental. Civilian scrunched her forehead. Was that even true?

Who cares. Civilian scotted her skinny self over and laid the villain's head in her lap. Then, temptation started its charismatic monologue.

Stroke his head. Be nice, clean his chin. Wipe the dirt off his eye.

Civilian hesitantly put her hand on his grimey hair- ew, he needed a shower ASAP- and gingerly patted it. Patted it, like petting a dog.

It was embarrassingly awkward.

For the next few hours, Villain slept. Civilian also dozed off between getting yummy smelling candles to fend off the revolting scent od blood and crackers to aimlessly gnaw on.

She watched through the first Kissing Booth and the second one when a thought struck her.

Pain.

The villain would be in pain when he woke up.

And the only thing Civilian had was Ibuprofen.

Like those barely took the edge off a headache, much less a gash the size of a baseball.

She reached for her phone to call her friend at the local drug store. Putting on a squeaky voice, Civilian said,

"Can you, uh, get me something for pain?"

"Slow down, Civilian. What?"

"I don't know benadryl or a very strong pain reliever," Civilian bit her lip, squeezing her eyes shut. Stupid stupid stupid...

"What did you do?"

"I, uh, sprained my ankle."

"You sprained your ankle?"

"Mhm hurts like-"

"Okay! I don't need your swear word dictionary. I'll bring you something after work."

"Thanks, oh owowowowowowo."

"Goodbye Civilian."

The line clicked.

Civilian smiled to herself and popped another cracker in her mouth. Problem solved.

The blood on the door.

Crap.

Civilian set Villain's head back on a pillow and ran to the frontdoor.

Great, just great.

Civilian flipped the middle finger at Villain's sleeping figure and walked out the door. She would meet her friend before she saw the splatters of blood.

Civilian sat herself on the curb, throwing her newly "spraind" leg out, letting out an insanely loud groan, and leaned back on her elbows.

"Oh my goodness! Civilian," her friend leaped from her black car and ran over. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah," Civilian waved it off. "Just wanted some air and the house is a mess, so."

Civilian, you are dumb.

"You sure? You asked to be hospitalized once because you stubbed your toe and the fact that a sprained ankle isn't bugging you... I am wholeheartedly worried."

"Don't be," Civilian chuckled. "How was work?"

Friend gave her a skeptical look. "Fine," she drawled.

"Good," Civilian nodded slowly, tapping the ground with her fingers. "So thank you for the painkillers."

"Mhm," Friend handed Civilian the plastic bag slowly. "How did you sprain it?"

"Uhhh fell out of the shower."

Friend looked genuinely concerned.

"Tripped and fell," Civilian repeated herself awkwardly. "On the ground?" Why did she have to say it as a question?

She was awkward and sounded hilariously awkward as well.

"Klutz," Friend joked, but her face was still taut with worry. "Need help getting inside?"

"No no!" Civilian exclaimed. Friend stepped back, so Civilian laughed to alleviate the tension. "I should walk it out."

"Ooookay," Friend said, nodding. "Good for you. I'm gonna go. I have a dinner date with this dude from Tinder."

"Oooo good luck," Civilian said, faking a wince as she stood up. Friend rushed in to help.

"Don't," Civilian cautioned, raising her "hurt" leg up. Friend looked at it and scowled.

"Dang leg huh? Well bye-bye. Don't fall out of the shower anymore. Got it?"

"Yup," Civilian said and fake limped back to her house as Friend sped away.

Missiom accomplished.

Villain was stirring when Civilian sat back down.

Perfect timing also.

She rummaged through the bag and grabbed a bottle of valium. She popped the recommended dosage out and approached Villain.

He was still too dazed and disoriented to stop Civilian from helping him swallow, but the second the water touched his tongue, he woke up fully.

"What are you doing? Don't touch me!" He yelled, pulling away. Civilian also backed away, a frown forming on her face.

"Me? I saved your life."

Villain was silent. "How much did you touch me?"

"Enough to save your life."

Villain jerked, looking around as if somone was in the shadows. Paranoid, Civilian copied him.

"What's wrong with you?" Civilian asked.

"You touched me?"

Civilian didn't say anything. She crossed her arms and shifted her weight to one leg, examining the villain.

Villain jerked to his feet, swaying madly. Civilian's heart jumped. He was so unsteady...

He fell, but Civilian swooped in to catch him.

For a moment, the villain melted into her half-embrace, head resting gently on her shoulder, before pulling away. He bit his cheeks, seemingly trying to keep tears back.

"What... are you? Are, are you scared of getting a hug? Sheesh."

"Mmm no," Villain shook his head quickly, then sat down as if the feat made him dizzy.

"Mmm yes," Civilian sat down next to him. The villain looked confused, but that may be the drugs kicking in.

Soon Villain's eyes starting to droop and he swayed in his sitting position.

"Whatdya give me?" He slurred, a faraway look in his eyes. "Mm tired." He collapsed forward.

Civilian steadied him and helped him lay back down. He groaned pathetically and grappled at Civilian's hand, desperate to hold it.

He held her hand until he fell asleep.

[imaginesupply]

You have my permission - Tom Hiddleston smut (sub!Tom)

Summary : Tom throws a tantrum and his mistress gives him more than he bargained for. 

Warnings: Sub!Tom, switch!Tom, oral (f receiving), PIV, body fluids and aftercare. 

Words: 4.4k 

Smut after the cut. 

She strolled inside the bedroom behind Tom, her fingers dexterously removing the heavy earrings that were weighing down her earlobes painfully. Setting them down on the dresser with a relieved sigh, she turned to Tom whose back to her as he crouched down and took off his shoes. What a nice ass, she mused with a grin.

"A bath or a movie, which do you fancy?" She asked, offering him the choice. Tom had seemed off at dinner, not his usual cheerful self and she was concerned. Yet, truth be told, she was tired and though a bath was relaxing perspective, she doubted she'd have the energy to leave the tub once the water lost its warmth, but those were two activities she knew Tom enjoyed particularly and she wanted to treat her good boy to a pleasant evening.

"I don't care."

She stopped in her tracks even as she opened the drawer for a fresh nightdress, a frown taking over her face. "What was that?"

"I don't care." Tom repeated more forcefully.

She had heard him right the first time, then. Hiding her surprise well, she cocked an eyebrow at him. "I'll remind you, darling, that's not how you speak to me."

Tom was barefoot now but standing up to his full height by the bed, an expression on his face that she wasn't acquainted with. "Or what?" He sneered with sarcasm, so far from the sweet boy she knew.

With an eye roll, she dropped the night dress on the bed. Tom had already broken so many rules within the past minute, but she was feeling clement. After all, unlike him, she had enjoyed herself immensely at dinner.

"What is it, Thomas? Why are you being so fussy tonight?" She sighed with resignation. As much as his attitude was grating on her nerves, she needed to know that he was alright. "Come on, sit down," she ordered gently, patting the mattress next to her.

"No!"

"No?" She was giving him one last chance.

To her surprise, Tom groaned, his hands tightening into fists for a moment before loosening again. "No, I will not sit down just because you told me to, not after..."

Her patience with him was thinning down to a hair width. This was not how she had envisioned their evening, but she would spend the night punishing him if she had to.

"Either you tell me exactly what's going on, Thomas, or you'll spend the next couple of days with a painful bottom," she promised, crossing her arms over her chest and just barely resisting tapping her foot on the floor.

His face changed at once. Tom knew those weren't idle threats. He winced, remembering the last time she had uttered those words. Still, he couldn't shake off the fury that gnawed at him from the inside.

"I did not like our waiter tonight, nor the way you behaved with him." Tom finally confessed though his voice remained petulant.

She was unable to hold back a scoff. Was her good boy acting out because he was jealous? "Really? I thought he was very efficient, and I treated him the same respect I do all other people."

Tom's eyes widened at her statement and suddenly all she could see was their light, vibrant blue.  “He spent the entire evening with his eyes glued onto your cleavage! He touched your hand when he filled your glass! And you didn't even say anything, you just let him do it!" He spat accusatorily.

A tantrum, then, she concluded, leaning back against the wall with an amused smirk as she sized him up. Thomas has misbehaved in the past - some small misdemeanours here or there that had warranted a proportionate disciplinary response from her - but this was on an entirely different level. For some reason, punishment didn't seem like the appropriate response this time around.

"Very well, Tom. You've made your case and I’ve listened." She saw it in his eyes, relief washing over the sizzling emotion that she now recognised as jealousy. "What is your solution?"

Tom didn't manage to hide his reaction at her words. He felt put on the spot, her taunting stare intimidating him more than any handcuffs or collar ever could, and without the comfort that came with them. The usually eloquent man stuttered. "I don't know, mistress," he admitted, all sudden burst of courage gone but the look on her face let him know she wasn’t satisfied with the answer. "I just need to know you're as much mine as I'm yours, mistress."

He was back to being her good boy, it appeared, puppy eyes begging to be forgiven for his previous outburst. She licked her lower lip, anticipating the fun that was to come, before nodding as she tilted her head. This was a great occasion for a lesson, she decided. "Let me be yours, then. You have my permission."

Tom blinked once, then twice. Stunned didn’t begin to cover it. Was she really...? No, it couldn't be. "I'm quite not sure I understand, mistress."

She cocked her brow at his reaction. Oh, this was going to be so much better than a movie or a soak. Lightly waving her hand at herself, she made it crystal clear to him.

"I'm yours tonight, to do as you please." Thomas gulped at her offer - no - her command, feeling his Adam's apple tightening just like his trousers. "Claim me, mark me, ravish me. Whatever you want - I can take it.” She paused, letting the words sink in. “Isn't that what you wanted, darling?" She goaded him.

Tom was taken aback, so much so, he didn’t know what to say, let alone what to do. He’d never been in this position before. With other women, sure. But her? His mistress? His only mistress? He wouldn’t lie and pretend the thought had never crossed his mind, but it was never more than some delirious fantasies that taunted him when she kept him teetering on the edge for hours on end and his sanity became scarce. Tom tried to recall what he did to all the women before her, how he had his way with them before… before his mistress helped him discover who he was and what he truly needed.

He gazed upon her again, taking in the way she was waiting for him to do something, head cocked expectantly, exposing the slender column of her neck, the upward tilt op her lip never quite turning into a smirk yet not straying far from it. She was taunting him, testing him. Tom that even if he seized control now, it would be at her demand. No matter what he did, she’d still have the upper hand. She was not giving herself to him the way he gave herself to her. No, she was simply humouring him like a pet. And it made him want nothing more than to make her choke on her words.

I can take it, she’d said. He would be the judge of that, he vowed.

With two long strides, he crossed the room, stopping only he had crowded her against the navy wall. Even with the black high heels she fancied, Tom towered over her. His fingers went to her chin, tilting her face upwards and forcing her to look into his eyes before he leant down and kissed her ferociously. He let his tongue invade her mouth, the back of her head hitting the wall behind her as their teeth clicked together. And then he hesitated, a small pause in his moves as if he waited once again for her permission. Instead, she smiled against his lips, encouraging him silently and then gasped in mouth under the reprised assault, surprising both of them with the sweet sound.

Tom broke off the kiss, tracing his lips along her jawline before settling on the soft spot beneath her earlobe. She flinched against him when he started sucking on her skin, stopping only to alternate with nibbles. To his surprise, she didn’t protest. In lieu of that, she was oddly compliant under his touch even as the guilty feeling that he was doing something naughty and forbidden invaded him. Would she punish him later? Shaking off these thoughts, he thrust up his hips, pressing the outline of his throbbing erection against her lower stomach. Her shaky, shallow breaths were driving him mad.

He had perhaps expected that she would rock her hips against him, rub herself on him like a cat in heat. Tom should have known better than to predict her reactions. She slid her hand between their bodies, cupping his balls and the base of his erection, adding yet another layer between his cock and the sweet cunt he so desired. His lips went slack against her neck. She knew just how much pressure to apply, knew what drove him wild better than he himself did. After all, she was his mistress. She also knew he hadn’t been granted permission to cum for the past three days.

His hand fisted her hair tightly, pulling on it and giving her no choice but to look up at him. She was beautiful like this; he had never seen her from this angle. Like a black rose, it was beautiful to look at, but unnatural. She then had the audacity to grin, her hand never stopping its languid caress, not even when he tilted her head so back far, she was looking up at the ceiling. The position exposed all her elegant neck to him. Tom could spot the frantic pulsing of her artery just next to the hickey he had sucked onto her skin. He should cover her in hickeys, he decided; her neck, of course, but also her collarbones, her breasts, the dips on her hips and the skin on her inner thighs that was softer than velvet and silk combined.

An opportunist, she had used his short distraction to loosen up his belt just enough to slither her small hand inside his trousers and boxers. He gasped at her touch, warm breath puffing against her skin before he seized her wandering hand without a warning, pinning it on the wall above her head.

Tom glared down at her, nostrils flared and eyes dark; a silent warning. She wasn’t used to submitting, he wasn’t even sure she had done it before. He half expected her to call out their safe word, to say ‘opium’ and have him stop it all. He halted, giving her the chance do so, even as he desired nothing more than to throw her on the bed and fuck her into the mattress. He had the strength for it, he could overpower her easily anytime, but his limbs didn’t obey. It felt forbidden, even with her permission.

She chuckled devilishly as if his grip on her hair didn’t cause her any pain even when she did so. “That’s it, big boy? Where did all that fury of yours go?” She was egging him on again. And for a moment, he was able to picture it in his mind. The large, burning imprint of his hand on her ass, the smudged mascara underneath her eyes as he made her choke on his cock. “Cat got your tongue and your brain?”

That did it. “Shut up,” Tom ordered at the same time as he pulled her off the wall, steering her to the bed with his grip on her head before forcefully throwing her down on the mattress face first. Spotting the zipper running along the back of elegant silk dress, he gave the garment a chance but ended up ripping it open at the seams when it got stuck. His patience was running out. “Scoot over. I want you right in the centre.”

She did as he asked without a single word. Moving to the middle of the mattress, she left behind her torn dress and lied down on her back, showing off her lingerie. It was black and lacy, and intricate. He wanted to destroy it the same way you felt driven to pluck the prettiest flower. She propped herself up on her elbows, spreading her legs and showing him her pretty little cunt through the crotchless panties as Tom took his time taking off his clothes at the end of the bed.

“You’re such a wanton vixen,” he told her. His fear that he was perhaps taking it too far was stilled when he watched her fingers graze over her clit. “Don’t touch what’s mine.” She obeyed, though she sported a Cheshire cat grin. It would be gone soon.

Tom crawled his way over her body, his broader shoulders caging her in, a growl escaping his throat as his pulsing cock slid along the warm skin of her thigh, leaving behind a trail of precum. He brought his face to hers and she parted her lips, expecting a kiss. He bit down on her neck instead, not strongly enough to draw blood but enough for it to sting. And sting it did, her back arching up like a tense bow.

Freeing one hand, he opened the front of her bra with no struggle. The lace fell apart, revealing her ample breasts to his eyes. Tom inhaled sharply at the sight of her pebbled nipples before sliding lower and seizing one between his teeth, nibbling on the sensitive nub mercilessly. Her lips canted up against his as she moaned, head thrown back against the pillow. She was enjoying it, her hand clutching his curls firmly, but not pulling him off. In fact, he decided, she was enjoying this way too much.

Tom let go of her breast, grinning at the offended look she shot him. She wasn’t used to being denied her pleasure. A bit hypocritical, he sniggered. He was determined to make her regret all those times she had tied him to the headboard, the hours she had spent teasing him, edging him, leaving him wanting, the bloody cock cage she had made him wear for a week after disobeying her. “As much as I love your pretty face, I have other plans for you tonight.” He groaned, and then without giving her time for the words to sink in, he spun her around on her belly.

She tried raising herself up on her elbows, but Tom didn’t let her, applying enough pressure between her shoulder blades to get the message across. Still, somehow, she managed to turn her head sideways, mouth parted as she struggled for air. “You’ll pay for this, darling,” she promised all too confidently but didn’t utter the safe word. He spanked her ass.

“Let us first see if you’re still able to do anything after this,” Tom teased as he forced his knees between her legs, prying them open and putting her tempting cunt on display. She smelled ripe.

Holding himself up on one hand next to her head, he moved to cover her body with his, casting a shadow all around her frame. With his free hand, Tom gripped his cock. He was still hard. Not that it was a surprise: when was he ever not hard in her presence?

Tom stroked his iron shaft twice before moving his long fingers to her core. Her probed at her warm, delicate folds. She was wet, though not soaked the way she only got after he’d spent ages worshipping her pussy. He guided himself to her entrance, making her feel his glans pressing against her opening.

This would hurt sweetly without more foreplay – she was a small, little thing and him the opposite. And yet, she didn’t even flinch, her eyes didn’t waver, quite the contrary. She was daring him to do it, looking back at him over her shoulder with curled lips. Tom had never been allowed inside her without her explicit permission – often after pitiful begging on his part. Gauging her reaction, he pointed his cock at her tiny puckered hole instead. Her eyes widened and she inhaled sharply, preparing herself for the painful intrusion. Still no safe word. She was tough to crack, Tom realised, not unimpressed before aligning himself with her pussy again. He didn’t dare take her last virgin hole with no preparation, desecrate his mistress like that.

His arm shook as he held up his weight. One thrust, that’s all it would take. He’d fuck her the way he had imagined himself doing countless times before, when his love for her blurred at the border between hatred and love, enmity and devotion, when she deemed his begging not sincere enough or made him plead even for an orgasm by his own hand like a dutiful puppet.

He wanted nothing more than to have his cock engulfed by her warmth. His cock begged him for it. She was waiting for him to thrust in, propping up her ass invitingly, the slope of her back acute. She was beautiful, face up or face down. She was everything Tom had ever desired in a woman. And yet, to him, she looked wrong in this position. He groaned in frustration, sweaty curls clinging to his forehead as his arm kept shaking. This was not how she was meant to be taken, to be pleasured. Just like you wouldn’t drink champagne from a dirty, plastic goblet, Tom couldn’t bring himself to fuck her like this, like an animal.

Letting out the most frustrated of growls, he seized her shoulder, turning her around without a warning before letting himself fall down on the mattress next to her. “I can’t do it,” he confessed, voice cracking.

Tom saw in the way her lips suddenly smirked and her eyes twinkled, finally understanding why she had never seemed apprehensive. His mistress had known all along he wouldn't be able to go through with it, even if he himself thought he could. She had called him on his bluff and won.

"Of course, you could not do it, darling," she cooed, sitting up next to him. "Do you want to know why?" Her fingers traced the line of his jaw almost condescendingly.

Tom swallowed, Adam's apple bobbing as he stared up at her. His previous boldness had left without leaving a trace. "Please, mistress."

She smiled again even as she slid a leg over his chest, enclosing him between the warmth of her thighs. And then, leaning down, she whispered into his ear as if sharing a great secret. "Because, my sweet boy, it’s not in your nature to take by force. You want to please me and earn what I give to you.” She murmured seductively. “Am I wrong?"

Tom shook his head almost at once, the need to please her surging in him at her words. She was never wrong, not when it came to him. And when she moved up to sit on his face, all he could do was mouth a breathless thank you for being allowed to touch her even after his misbehaving before his need to be her good boy drove him to her cunt.

She kept one hand wrapped tightly in his curls, the other one holding onto to the headboard to keep steady. Her sweet Tom was indeed very talented with his tongue, she barely had to guide him at all but that still didn't mean she'd let go of her tight grip anytime soon. "Such a good boy," she praised him, more breathless than she liked to admit. "Licking your mistress's cunt so well." Tom whimpered against her clit; praise always got him needy and she enjoyed his desperate sounds almost as much as she did his tongue.

Close to orgasm, she decided to reward him for his eager work. Her hand left the headboard, searching for his to place it on her breast. She moved her eyes, finding that his hand was no longer clutching the bed sheets in desperate need like it had been seconds ago.

Craning her neck backwards to look over shoulders even as the first pleasures started sparkling and erupting from her clit, she spotted his hand snaking along his side to his weeping cock which had already formed a small, sticky puddle on his navel.

She managed to seize his disobedient hand just before she came, twisting and squeezing it painfully in her fist even as she rocked against his face through the waves of her orgasm, with no regard to his breathing.

With one last deep breath even as Tom still lapped at her juices, she moved away from his mouth and went to straddle his chest, covering him in her slick. He was panting, eyes closed with a furrow between his brows even as she felt him thrust up his hips into thin air, seeking an inexistent friction. What a sweet, needy boy, too bad he couldn't control himself.

Before she could even say anything, Tom apologised the moment his eyes blinked open. "I'm sorry, mistress," he exhaled.

She rubbed his bruising knuckles with her thumb, etching a look of concern on her face and she saw the way his expression visibly relax at her soft smile. God, she loved toying with him, especially when he misbehaved. "You'll make up for your disobedience with your big cock, won't you, darling?" She cooed.

The thought of finally sinking his cock inside had him nodding eagerly at her, sweaty curls bouncing like a halo around his angelic face. "Yes, mistress. Anything you want."

Oh, she wanted this alright, she mused as she reached out her hand to gently cup his cheek, a smile ghosting on her lips. She scooted over, moving backwards to straddle his hips. His cock was the prettiest shade of pink and the hardest kind of iron.

With a finger she lightly traced the vein running along the underside of his shaft, noticing how he moaned even as he fought the urge to rock up against her touch. It was adorable, the way he was trying to be good now that she’d chastised him. She decided not to tell him it was too late for any of that now.

Instead, she slid her wet cunt along his shaft, the frown of desperate concentration on his eyes more than making up for the slight discomfort on her sensitive folds. How long since she had last let him cum, she wondered, knowing this was going to be torture for him. The loud gasp that escaped his throat when she wrapped her hand firmly around the base of his cock only served as further proof.

Tom's eyes were bright and wide, unable to focus on a particular image as his mistress lowered herself on his desperate cock; the sight of himself disappearing inside her tight channel, the bouncing of her breasts as she moved languorously and languidly, or perhaps, those five seconds of deep intake of air during which her eyes closed and her face lost that regal composure of hers before she got used to the stretch.

"How does that feel, darling?" She asked him with the smile of someone who already knew the answer, in rhythm with her riding of him. She never moved with short, clear-cut thrusts, her hips smoothly undulating instead in a way that had him helpless and feeling the tightening in his gut surging way too soon.

"Very good, mistress," he managed to reply though it came out strangled, his muscles have begun tensing and his fingers itching to touch his mistress. Tom knew better this time.

She seemed satisfied with his response, picking up a faster pace above him. Watching Tom's face contort with bliss brought her just as much pleasure as the rutting of his cock. Tendons straining against his throat, eyes tightly shut and anguished whimpers escaping his parted lips. She anticipated his pleas the moment Tom opened his eyes like a wild animal blinded by the lights. "I need to cum. Please, mistress," he begged, knuckles turning white around the crumpled bedsheets. "Please let me cum."

Her hand moved to his throat, finger pads digging softly into his skin for balance. He loved her hand there, it was a reassurance and a threat all at once and he keened under her touch. She shook her head softly. "No."

The single word startled him as much as her increased pace. He was too close, he wouldn't be able to- "Please, mistress," Tom whined and blabbered, tears welling at the corners of his eyes before running down his sharp cheeks as he fought his release until his muscles trembled.

Still, she took no mercy, shushing him with a finger on his lips. As her orgasm crept closer at a dizzying pace, the look of focus and torment on his sweet, angelic face became almost too much to bear. He was trying so hard to be her good boy, it was beyond adorable.

So, when she tightened around him like a vice as bliss took over her mind and Tom let out the loudest strangled moan, she knew he was bound to fail her command no matter his determination and finally took pity on his anguish. "Cum for me, darling."

Tom tried to thank her for the privilege of filling her with his cum but his control burst at her permission before he was able to say anything intelligible. Instead, he cried out as he came in her, spurt after spurt.

Still coming down from her own high, she climbed off of Tom and then sat down next to him, moving his head to rest on her thigh. She decided to reserve his punishment for tomorrow, noticing his need for aftercare. She'd learned to expect his vulnerability after an orgasm, his longing to be held tightly and true enough, he moved to his side and hugged her waist. "You're okay, darling?" She asked, or rather, cooed.

Tom nuzzled into her thigh, a soft smile on his thin lips. "Yes, mistress, thank you," he mumbled against her skin and then she heard the slight shift in his voice. "I am sorry, for earlier..."

She smiled down at him, brushing his sweaty curls off of his forehead. "I know, sweetie."

It was a struggle then to get him out of bed and into the bathroom, with him holding on to her for dear life. But a small order from her and Tom complied, following her into the shower where she had him kneeling on the floor before her with his face pressed to her sternum as she washed his hair. Her sweet boy wouldn’t like what tomorrow held for him.

[thenextchapter22]

Stuffies

PART 2! Sleeping in the Devildom!

Description: Your first night was an easy sleep, but your second not so much...

or….adventures and cute stories with a reader/MC who carries stuffed animals around all over Devildom.

Pairing(s): NONE!

Word Count: 1,615

Link to my AO3: Click Here

Author’s Notes:  Okay so I was not expecting so many likes for this, but thank you very much to all those reading! :3 I hope you enjoy this chapter :)

Part One

_+_

Sleeping in your room while several demons slept in the same hallway was actually pretty easy the first night. You had passed out in the shockingly comfortable bed after dinner with the brothers (and wow was that a crazy time, you lived alone so you always ate alone and the banter was fun to watch, but the food was weird too) and snuggled close with your Panda stuffed animal Po, rubbing your cheek and nose in the ultra-soft plush tummy of the black and white bear that was about the size of a pillow. You even woke up with drool on her.

The first morning before school you had an eventful time meeting angels. Simeon was so pretty and kind, and Luke was hilarious with his huffing and puffing, but super energetic.

They didn’t seem to mind your stuffed animals, either, which was great. You said you stopped caring what people thought, but these were… immortal beings… so it was a little bit different than normal ‘people’.

_+_

Meeting the Angels

It was the morning of your first day at RAD and the room was full of demons, waiting for the new arrivals. You sat on the sofa between Belphie, who was falling asleep into his pillow, and Asmo, who was looking at himself in the mirror and fixing his eyeliner. Why, you weren’t sure. He looked gorgeous. You wore very little on your face, only a bit of liner and Chap Stick that was cherry flavored.

You held one of your oldest stuffed animals to your chest, trying to comfort yourself as best as you could. Meeting the Demons first was so shocking you didn’t realize how much it would have helped to have a soft or squishy friend in your arm until now.

Then, they strolled into the room. Lucifer stood to greet them, nodding his hellos, while you stared in awe. They gave off an aura that was so beautiful. Not a visible one, but it was like your soul was brighter, and your eyes were more open.

There were two of them, one was taller with dark hair, and the other shorter with blonde hair. Both wore white outfits, but had no wings which was sad. But you had only seen a few demonic forms so far—Lord Diavolo, Barbatos, his butler, and Lucifer, when you first came yesterday—so it wasn’t that surprising they would look human. It was probably easier to maneuver in hallways without huge wings or appendages like tails.

“And this is our newest human student.”

Oh, you were being introduced. You stood up and nodded your head, smiling a little shakily at them as Lucifer gestured to you. “It’s so nice to meet you!”

Simeon, the angel who seemed to know Lucifer after watching how they interacted, gave you a handshake that was elegant in the way he held your own hand like you were a princess or something. “A pleasure to meet you as well.”

The smaller one, named Luke, glanced up at you with a wide grin and said something of the same, but didn’t shake your hand. “You’re so pretty! And—oh, what is that? Is that a dog? You brought a dog to the Devildom?! Simeon, I want to bring a pet, pleeease?” He turned his eyes to the taller angel and begged.

Simeon chuckled. He pat Luke’s little head and the blonde haired angel huffed. “Celestial Pets would not survive here unfortunately. And I don’t think it’s a real dog, Luke.”

You shook your head. “Nope, it’s my stuffed animal. His name’s Fido. I know, super original, but I’ve had him since I was a kid.” You held him out for them to see. He was about 10 inches and was squeezable, and you felt he was perfect to take on your first day at RAD.

Simeon smiled kindly. “He’s lovely. Do you have others?”

Mammon spoke up from his place behind you on a separate piece of furniture. “Oh yea, loooads of ‘em. The entire bedroom is full, it’s insane.”

There was a smack, then a moan from the Greed Demon. “Shut up, Mammon, you insensitive prick,” Satan spoke up. “We’ve all got our collections.”

You were surprised Satan defended you but also happy about it. Knowing Mammon from the breakdown you had yesterday, he probably didn’t mean it to be insensitive, he just spoke before thinking.

“Well, then, I look forward to seeing more of your collection.”

Luke agreed. “Oh, me too! Do you have any with wings? Like a dove, or a peacock, or what about a flamingo!?”

And you all chatted for a bit, and you felt pretty excited for your first day. You were told you were going to meet one more person at RAD, and it had you giddy. Would they be just as kind? You hoped…

_+_

So yes, the first night was good, but after your first day at RAD—and that was a whole other story on craziness that included being overloaded with information on demon history and new math you would probably be terrible at, and also potions was a scary subject because you immediately thought of Harry Potter, and not to mention the many, many demons looking at you and probably wanting to either eat you or kill you—you just could not shut your eyes the second night.

It was past 11pm, the second day of school was tomorrow, and you had to get a good night’s sleep. It was obvious Lucifer demanded good grades from everyone. Sleep was an important part of that.

Maybe an almost midnight snack would help?

So you got up, put on a sweater over your long sleeved pajamas because it was pretty cold here at night, put your fuzzy pink slippers on, tucked Po under your arm, and went down the hallway as quiet as a mouse. You had a surprisingly good memory of places, and mazes were easy for you, and seeing as this house was a maze you found the kitchen quick.

You poured yourself a glass of milk—it looked like milk, and smelled like it, so you prayed it was milk—and sat on the barstool drinking it. Warm milk would be better, or tea, but you didn’t want to open cupboards and have anything bang or start the oven or stove, it looked way different from the ones at home.

There was a flickering of light in the corner of your eyes. You followed it to a room with books stacked high along the walls, and a couch and chairs around a fire going all by itself with brick towering above. Magic, perhaps, kept it burning.

The couch facing it directly was cozy looking so you sat on it, and sipped your milk staring into the hearth. Fire danced in your eyes and it hypnotized you. The warmth was great, and cascaded over your body like you were sunbathing. You liked the sun but heat without light was better, and this was perfect.

You found your eyes shutting and quickly placed Po beneath your head and yawned. Then you drifted into dreamland for a while, the heartbeat of the fire lulling you.

A soft touch on your body woke you up from slumber. The fire was blocked by a body, and your eyes opened and you glanced up to see Belphegor with his own black and white companion, his pillow, and noticed a blanket thrown over your body.

“The fire goes out at 4am, so you’ll get cold,” he said monotonously, then went to the next couch over and copied your position of laying on your side cuddled to your panda stuffie but him with his pillow instead, and you watched as he transformed in the blink of an eye. He was like a cow-hybrid, and had the tail just like one. He also had curled up horns, and you remember seeing those on other transformed demons. Was that a trait they all had?

His eyes glowed purple when he looked at you, mesmerizing like the fire but in a different sense. “Sleep, it’s late,” he said, curling his tail over himself like a small blanket.

And you did sleep, sort of instantly, too, the Sloth Demon following suit. It was probably one of the best nights of sleep you had in a long time.

_+_

“Aahhh~~ So cuuuteee!!”

The sound of photos being taken from a phone, and the squealing, woke you up. It felt too early, and you groaned, pressing your entire face into Po. “Uhhh, noo mom, please turn off the lights,” you begged.

A soft coo, then a poke to your cheek. “Aw, sweetie, it’s time to get up, although I hate to move you looking so darn adorable.”

You blinked away sleep and groaned, rolling your head back to see Asmodeus standing over you, dressed for the day in his uniform, and his D.D.D in hand, and still snapping pictures of you with it.

You covered your face with one hand. “No, stop,” you sleepily pleaded. “Too early, ‘m ugly.”

He shushed you and tapped your hand until it moved, and giggled when you cried as he took another picture. “You’re second to me in beauty, darling, don’t say such things! You and your cute little stuffed Panda bear, this is Devilgram worthy~”

There was a soft chuckle, and you shot your head over to see Belphie laughing at your face. “Beware, Asmo will post that almost instantly.”

“Already done!” the Lust avatar declared. “You’re famous, my dear~” he winked.

“You guys are so mean,” you pouted, shoving your face into Po. But little did they know, you were smiling the entire time.

[lordabovehelpme]

Myles has a Crush

Request: This may be a weird request, but may I request for Myles having  crush on somebody from the covert? I assume the djarin family visits occasionally and maybe he has a small crush on a girl (yknow like how in kindergarten kids sometimes had small crushes on eachother?) MSMSMS din attempting to give ✨fatherly advice✨?

A/n: I LOVE THIS!!! This is literally such a cute idea. I stopped everything to write this. I did it in headcanon/thought form so hopefully that’s okay. I hope you like it!

Please consider reblogging, I love hearing all y’alls thoughts. They make my day!

This goes along with my Days filled With Love Series. You can find the first part here :)

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“Has Myles been acting weird again? I’m worried about him.” Your husband only groans in response. His eyes closed and his mind hazy as your fingertips stroke through his curls.

He’s too sleepy to think about emotion right now. His head rests on your chest, nose up against your sternum, perfectly nestled between your two mounds. It’s his favorite place to be.

“I tried talking to him last night at bedtime but he just shied away. I don’t know what to do. I want to give him space so he can come to me when he’s ready, but he’s so quiet. Like, I don’t want to be that parent that forces their kids to tell them stuff. But I-”

“Cyare.”

“I also want to know so I am able to help him. What if he’s not telling us because he doesn’t want to be a burden. But how could he even think that. How-”

“Cyar’ika.”

“Do I not tell them I love them enough? Do I-”

“Cyare!” Two palms grab the sides of your face and it breaks you from your spiraling thoughts. “Finally. Stop worrying, I’ll talk to him today. It’ll be fine. Now can we just sleep for one more hour.” He nuzzles in further and his hands wrap around your waist.

***

“Dad can I ask you a question?” Myles taps his fathers back, trying to get his attention.

“Sure bud, what’s up?” Din turns around so he can fully face his son.

“Can we go somewhere secret?” Myles voice is hushed and his helmet tilts down

Din looks back to where Paz and some other mandalorians crowd around, laughing and boasting about various things they’ve done. “Sure.”

He let’s Myles lead him by his hand to a secluded corner. He can’t help the strong feeling of warmth he gets from how small his son's hand is wrapped up in his own palm.

“Okay, I need help.”

Din bends down so he is closer to his son. Although he doesn’t need to go far as Myles is already almost to his chest. Seems he got the tall gene. He can hear your voice saying how similar his kids are to him and his chest puffs up in pride.

“Dad! Focus!”

“Sorry, I’m listening. You have my full attention. What do you need help with?” He doesn’t need to see his son's face to know that there is a slight blush to them. He can just tell from the way his fingers pick at his hands and the way his head is slightly tilted down.

“I just wanted to ask how you got Mom to like you?”

Din’s head tilts in confusion and he replays the question in his mind. Why would his son be wondering that? “Well, we started off as… friends. Eventually we became closer and closer and then one night-”

“No Dad, how did you know she liked you? And how did you make it not obvious you liked her?”

Finally it clicks in his mind and a smirk forms on his lips. “Why, do you like someone?”

“Di’kut where’d you- Myles! You like someone? This is huge! Who’s the lucky lady?” Paz emerges from around the corner and is instantly right next to Din.

“Oh ummm. It’s Skymel. But you can’t tell her!”

“Ahh, I see. What you need to do is show her how much of a man you are!”

“Yeah, women love that. Your mother always comments on how strong she thinks I am.”

“Wait, I’ve got a plan. It’ll be perfect for you Myles!”

***

What are they doing?

You’re sitting in the main room of the covert with your friend Beti. But over on the other side of the room Myles, Din, and Paz are huddled together in a little circle. Their helmets nearly touch as they whisper to each other.

“They look too calm for anything good to happen next.” Beti comments.

“Remind me why I married a goof and gave him children?”

“Honey, that was all you. I still question it myself.” The two of you laugh and in response Tobbi laughs along. His little golden eyes gleam and his hands flail around. Isabet, happily sitting in Beti’s arms, glares at him for begging so loud.

Rebekkah walks in and makes her way over to you two. Waving you smile as she approaches. “Long time no see! How have you been?”

“Good. Although I’m surprised Din hasn’t already put another kid in you.”

Warmth rises to your cheeks and you swat at her arm. She just laughs and raises her arms in defense.

Her daughter Skymel runs in and hugs you. “Do you know where Myles is?” The two of them have been friends since birth, as they were born around the same time.

“Yeah he’s over there with Din and Paz.”Pointing at the huddle of Beskar.

She nods and tickles Tobbi’s stomach. “Hey little guy.” He squeals and giggles. But before she can rush off to her friend, Myles and Paz seem to be sizing each other up.

“This is going to be interesting.” Beti says. “Bekkah, come sit down, you won’t want to miss this.”

Myles and Paz circle each other and Skymel plops down right next to you. “What are they doing?”

“Maker knows.” You sigh.

Paz goes to grab Myles but he quickly moves out of his grasp. He delivers a punch to Paz’s gut and in response Paz bends over, as if it really hurt him. Grabbing his uncle's helmet, he pulls him to the ground and promptly places a foot on the fallen mandalorians back.

“Oh my!” Beti places a hand over her mouth, trying to conceal her giggles.

Your husband then moves behind your son, sneakily trying to capture him. But it seems that Myles expected it because he slips between his hands and kicks the back of his knee.

Your husband topples and lands ontop of Paz. However, both their shoulders shake and you know they’re giggling like idiots.

Wiping his hands, Myles walks over to your little group.

“What was that?” You ask.

“They thought they were stronger than me so I had to show them they’re not.” He gestures to the two grown men laying ontop of each other in defeat.

“Right. Okay.” You bite your lip, trying to hide your smile.

“Wow Myles that was really cool. Do you think you could show me some moves?” Skymel asks, and as he nods they scurry off to another spot in the covert.

Once they leave the main room, Paz pushes Din off him.

“Oof!” CLANK.

They both get up and walk over to you. Paz reaches for Tobbi and takes him from your arms. Tobbi laughs loudly and slaps his helmet.

“So, what was that?” Beti asks. Din shrugs as he sits down next to you, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you into his body.

“Myles says he has a crush on Skymel.”

Suddenly all the dots connect and it makes sense why he was acting so weird, he was just embarrassed. Both Beti and Rebekkah coo. “That’s so cute!”

“That doesn’t answer my question though.”

“Well Myles needed to show Skymel that he is strong so he made a show of defeating us.” Paz says as he holds Tobbi above his head, letting him wiggle his limbs and giggle.

“He needed to show her that he was strong?” You ask.

“Yeah, you’re always on about how strong I am.” Din says as he grabs your hip.

All three of you giggle.

“What?”

“Love, it’s not how strong you are that made me fall in love with you. It’s how big your heart is and how you can make me feel like the most special person in the world. But, you’re not completely wrong, these are a big plus.” You grab his bicep and squeeze it.

“Oh.”

All of you break into loud laughter and smiles.

“Men, am I right?” Rebekkah says as her own husband approaches.

“I feel like I walked into a trap.”

“Don’t even get me started.” Din sighs.

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Hehe I love this! I hope you guys liked it!

As always, feedback is appreciated.

Love, Lordy :)

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Taglist: @ficthots​ @along-the-lines-of-space​ @jedi-jesi​ @coldlilheart​

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[7fckingidiots]

Lingerie

Mammon x Reader NSFW

You went out shopping with Asmo earlier and a certain outfit caught your eye. You can’t help but think of a certain demon that would look ravishing in it.

You held the box tentatively in your hands as you stood in front of the door to Mammon’s room. You’d been much more confident on the way to your room but not finding Mammon in there had lessened that confidence, and the walk over to his room even more so. But you had already knocked and we’re rocking back and forth on your heels waiting for a response.

“MC, what are ya doing here? I thought ya were out shopping with Asmo?” Mammon said to you as he opened the door, his eyes traveling down to the box you were now holding against your chest.

“I...” you mumbled, straightening your posture, “I bought you something!”

Mammon seemed surprised and oddly touched, it almost made you feel bad for what you were going to give him. Almost. Grabbing his hand and dragging him to the couch in his bedroom you shoved the box into his arms.

“I-MC, ya didn’t have to-“

“Just-! Just open it, please.”

Mammon was confused at your eagerness but took it as a good sign and started to open the gift. His face immediately lit up with red when he saw what was inside. 

It was a two piece lingerie set with tights. Almost unconsciously, he went to touch the tights. They were white and hemmed with lace. The entire outfit was soft and no doubt expensive. It was also his size.

“I, um,” he had to pause to swallow as what seemed like a thousand different scenarios were running through his head.

“MC, ya seem to have bought this for the...” his voice trailed off as he looked up to face you. You had finally regained your composure and were now staring at him, a teasing glint in your eyes.

Mammon quickly brought his head down but could still feel your eyes on him. It was oddly thrilling and he would have died if you knew how he felt right now. 

Pushing your luck, you move one of your hands from your lap and stoke it through his hair.

“Hmm? What was that last part? You were rather...quiet.” you pulled on his hair softly for emphasis and Mammon bit his lip.

“I said-!” but he was cut of with a yelp as you pulled on his hair again, this time much harsher.

“Look at who you’re speaking to, pet.” you murmured that last phrase but he still shuddered when he heard you.

“H-hey! I’m not yer pet! I’m a demon and yer just a lowly human, MY lowly human ya got that?!” his voice was defensive now and it was clear he knew he wasn’t in charge of the situation.

“You don’t like pet?” you asked him with a pout. He scoffed and looked away from you, still clutching the box in his hands.

“How’s doll then? Or sweetie, or baby? Or good boy? Or how about,” you tapped your head in mock thought and shifted closer to him, “mine?”

Mammon was worried that you would be able to hear his heart pounding in his chest. He loved them all and he wanted to hear them all come spilling from you mouth again. He wanted to hear them constantly, but did you have to say them in such a tone? It was unfair.

“Tch! Th-They’re all-Those are all terrible ya, huh?” 

You removed the box from his hands. “Alright, well it was worth a shot! Guess I’ll just have some fun with Levi then.” you said standing up from the couch.

“I-Wait! Ya can’t just-“

“Can’t do what Mammon? Nothing happened.”

“Yes it did!”

“Really? Care to tell me?” you asked, sitting back down with your legs crossed. “Don’t worry I’ll keep my full attention on you while you speak.”

His breath hitches at your closed eye smile. There was something so tormenting about everything you were making him do right now. Technically you were right, nothing had happened but something did! Otherwise he wouldn’t be feeling so...pent up right now. There was no way in Hell he was gonna tell you that willingly though. He crossed his arms and turned away from you with his head hanging down.

You giggled behind your hand and stood up again. Mammon reacted, trying to grab your hand to get you to stay but you took your hand out of his grip and moved to stand in front of him.

“I already told you Mammon, be polite and look at who you’re talking to!” you said with an exasperated sigh. 

“I suppose I’ll just have to make myself more clear.” and placing both hands on his shoulders you moved to straddle him. You were now sitting on his lap, box at the your side, and looking straight at him.

“Are you gonna to be nice now, pet?”

Mammon felt like he was going to combust. With your hands on his shoulders and you on top of him he didn’t know how to react, especially with the use of that pet name again. But another part of him did.

“MC,” his voice was strained, “don’t move please...”

Immediately shifting your hips back you laid more of your weight on his chest.

“And why is that?” you asked, adjusting yourself on his lap, for your own comfort of course. “Did something happen Mammon?” you whispered into his ear.

He groaned in response and threw his arms around your waist while pulling you closer to him.

“Pick a damn name would ya?” he said shifting his hips upwards.

“Oh? But you only have one name Mammon.” you said slowly grinding your hips back and forth. He leaned his head into your chest and groaned while holding you tighter.

“Mammon, I want to continue this, don’t you?” and he nodded frantically into your chest.

“Then I need you to do something for me.” And your hand trailed down to the box that was at your side. Mammon didn’t look. He knew what you wanted him to do and he’d do it but it didn’t stop it from being embarrassing as hell.

“Just gimme the damn outfit MC.” he said harshly. Laughing, you tousled his hair and got up from his lap. He grabbed the box and walked towards his closet.

“Aww, I don’t even get to see you dress up?” you teased while unbuttoning your shirt.

“N-no! Don’t be stupid!” he yelled at you shutting the doors behind him.

“Call me if you need any help!” you laughed at him muttering to himself.

About two minutes later though you heard your name meekly being called through the closet doors.

“Ah? Do you need any help?”

“...maybe...”

Smiling to yourself you opened the doors to see Mammon not facing you, but he was still quite the sight.

The tights contrasted nicely against his skin and the straps showed off his figure. Though he couldn’t seem how to put on the top or connect the bottom straps to the tights.

You clicked your tongue at him and whistled enjoying the embarrassed reaction you got out of him. You walked behind him and put your hands on the sides of his thighs.

“I’m only teasing you Mammon why are you so worked up?” you asked playing with the lace that lined the top of his tights.

“Exactly! Yer teasing me!” he whined into his palms, which he was now using to cover his face.

You ran your hands up his sides and then onto his shoulder blades. Mammon shuddered again at your light but deliberate touches.

“This was latch you needed help with?”

He nodded but you weren’t satisfied with the response. Moving a hand down and around him, you stroked his member which was tucked neatly into his panties. He gave a surprised moan and his body jerked away from yours to move against your hand.

“I’d like a verbal response from now on, is that understood pet?” you dragged your hand up his chest and back to the top’s latch.

“...Y-yes. I understand now.”

Closing the latch you grabbed his hips and turned him around. He was bashful and didn’t want to meet your gaze. But he was beautiful.

“You shouldn’t be nervous,” you moved your hands to stoke his thighs again, “you look absolutely stunning, sinful even.”

He whimpered again closing his legs together and shifting back and forth, trying to create some friction. But you placed your hands on his inner thighs and pulled them apart.

“Now now, how can I unwrap my present if it’s not even fully dressed? Let me do your garters first.” And you lowered yourself to your knees.

You were driving him crazy and part of him wanted to just grab you and take you right there, but another part of him was so curious to see what you’d do to him. How you’d violate him like this, all dressed in white. Gently grazing his member again you laughed as he whined and rocked back and forth on his feet.

“Almost, don’t worry.” You said adjusting the last strap.

With one last click your work was done and Mammon let out a louder whine.

“MC, please,” he begged wrapping his hands in your hair, “ I’m dressed up now so please?”

You shifted on your knees and repositioned your hands on his hips, pulling down his underwear.

“You’ve been a good pet this far, don’t go breaking that streak now~.”

[kopikokun]

Pity Party Crasher༄ nakamoto yuta

↳ Just great. You’ve just been dumped at this stranger’s party and all you want to do is curl up in a corner and cry, which is... exactly what you do. To your surprise though, there’s been an uninvited guest to your pity party.

pairing: nakamoto yuta x reader

content: fluff, comfort fic, alcohol consumption

wordcount: 1912 words

author’s note: ehehe can you guys guess who yuta’s supposed to be? also, this is a little rushed which i hope you can forgive me for since it was supposed to be short but turned into a full oneshot

— 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐝.

They don’t seem to stop. No matter how many times you swipe at your puffy eyes, the tears keep pouring down in a constant stream, falling in droplets onto the fabric of your costume and no doubt smearing your makeup beyond all repair.

  People are starting to stare, you realise which does nothing to boost your crumbling self-esteem at the moment. Nobody even bothers to approach you and ask you what’s wrong. All they do is ogle at you like you’re some sort of strange creature at the zoo. But then again, if someone walked up to you right now and asked you what’s wrong, you’d probably start bawling like a baby and humiliate yourself further. Even so, you wish at least someone here bothered enough to ask you if you were okay. Call it selfish, but you really wish you had someone to turn to right now.

All this extravagance does not faze you though. The second the toilet door locks with a click, shielding you from everybody’s eyes, you make a beeline towards the toilet--well, one of the two toilets--flip the lid shut and fall into it. You tuck your knees to your chest, burying your face as you finally allow a sob to wrack through you.

In the back of your mind, the self-assured, rational part of you knows that this is dumb. That foul man doesn’t deserve your tears after what he’s done. He doesn’t deserve even another ounce of your energy or another second of your time. He deserves absolutely nothing from you, and you know that for a fact, yet the tears are still hot and wet as they continuously trickle down your cheeks.

In the back of your mind, the self-assured, rational part of you knows that this is dumb. That foul man doesn’t deserve your tears after what he’s done. He doesn’t deserve even another ounce of your energy or another second of your time. He deserves absolutely nothing from you, and you know that for a fact, yet the tears are still hot and wet as they continuously trickle down your cheeks.

How embarrassing, you think. Here you are, looking nothing short of stunning in your Halloween costume, isolating yourself in some stranger’s bathroom, mascara running down your face all because your no good boyfri--ex-boyfriend,  stood you up and proceeded to dump you over text, leaving you completely alone at this party filled with people you’ve never met because he had pleaded for you to go. God, just thinking about it makes your blood boil.

  Your very own pity party is swiftly sabotaged when you hear the unmistakable sound of a shampoo bottle dropping and a barely whispered, “Crap!” coming from none other than the bathtub.

  At this sudden intrusion, you immediately lunge to your feet, grabbing onto the nearest available weapon (which is a hairbrush in your case) and soundlessly tiptoe towards the source of this mysterious sound.

  You pause, swallowing dryly. “Hello? Is there somebody there?”

  The shower curtains almost immediately slide open in response and a scream gets caught in your throat as you raise the hairbrush menacingly over your head, in what you think is the best position to strike this person in.

  “Woah! Oh my God, calm down!”

  The identity of the culprit is revealed, although upon seeing his face you still have no idea who he is and, more importantly, why he was hiding in the bathtub. The stranger has his hair dyed a bright, almost neon pink, and little equally as pink antennas sticking out of his head. It’s painfully obvious they’re handmade by how asymmetrical they look, but you applaud the effort. He has his hands up defensively as he peers at you with caution, like you’re some feral, untamed creature, though to be fair, you probably look like one. All this while, this weirdo is still perched in the bathtub.

  “What are you doing in here?” you hiss, letting the hand which was holding your makeshift weapon fall limp to your side. The man’s shoulders visibly loosen.

  “Look, I know how weird this looks--”

  “Yeah, no kidding.”

  “But I genuinely didn’t mean to be here and listen in on you,” he says. “In fact, I was here first.”

  While that statement is true, his argument just leaves you with more questions. “Okay, but why the hell were you camping out in the bathtub of all places? Who does that?”

  The man smiles sheepishly. “Look, I have my reasons.”

  You expect him to explain himself, but oddly, he keeps quiet. You tap your foot impatiently and cross your arms like a disappointed mother reprimanding their child. “Okay, well, do feel free to explain these reasons.”

  “Okay, well, you might want to take a seat for this one,” he says, gesturing to the toilet you were previously sat on, and you can’t help but snort. Nevertheless, you take this peculiar man’s advice and sit back down on the cold, hard toilet lid. “So, long story short, some guy out there really wants to kill me.” He pauses for extra affect. “In the most agonising way he can come up with.”

  You physically recline back in what can only be shock. “Oh, wow. You’re serious?”

  “Excuse the pun, but yes, I’m drop-dead serious.”

  You furrow your brows. “Well, that’s dumb. Why’d you choose to hide out in here of all places then? Why not just go home?”

  The man’s mouth hangs open, almost like he’s about to say something in retaliation before he promptly shuts it. “Hey, you know what?” he says, head tilted. “I didn’t think about that.”

  You roll your eyes at his confession, though you can’t wipe the amused smile from your face. You briefly wonder exactly why this man is on someone’s hitlist. But you think that asking that question would only lead to equally--if not stranger answers.

  “What about you?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Why are you camped out here in the bathroom?”

  You chew on your bottom lip, sudden anxiety beginning to grip onto you. You didn’t expect him to ask that. No doubt he had heard your heaving sobs through the flimsy material of the shower curtain, but you didn’t expect him to ask any further questions. Really, you were sure he was just going to brush it off and pretend like nothing ever happened, and that you were just in the toilet for more normal toilet-like business.

  “I mean,” he leans on the wall behind the bathtub, “you don’t have to tell me anything. I totally get that. But if you want to say something, I’m willing to listen. I’ve got a lot of time to kill. Excuse the pun. Again.”

  You smile softly. You’re not sure what exactly compels you to confide in this stranger, maybe it’s the genuine concern present in his voice, the delicate look in his eyes behind those green-tinted glasses, or maybe it’s just the fact that he’s somehow made you at least chuckle, just moments after your breakdown, which in the moment, was something you thought you’d never be able to accomplish, at least for another week.

  “I--” you start, searching for the right words to say. “I got dumped by text by my boyfriend. Ex-boyfriend,” you correct yourself. “And I didn’t even want to be at this dumb party to begin with. The guy had the gall to beg for me to come, and fucking dumped me after I dressed up and everything. Through text.” Crap. You can feel them coming. Another onslaught of fresh tears bombards you. You try your best to suck them back in, but a few stray ones stream down your cheeks.

  “What a dick. Without a doubt, I can tell that you’re way above his league. He’s just a fucking prick.” Somehow, him dissing your ex-boyfriend makes your chest feel a little lighter. “But hey, are you okay?”

  You angrily swipe your tears away with the back of your palm. “Yeah, whatever. I’m over it.” You know that’s a lie. But it’s more of a lie to fool yourself into believing than the man before you.

  “If it makes you feel any better, the guy who’s trying to kill me is actually my girlfriend’s boyfriend.”

  “What?” you sputter. You blink back your visible shock. “You mean you were seeing some girl who’s already in a relationship?” You can’t hide the evident disgust on your face.

  “No! No! Of course not. I’d never do that!” he almost yells, appalled you’d ever accuse him of such a heinous act. “You know me better than that.” Again, his antics bring a humoured snort out of you. “I didn’t know she had a boyfriend. I thought she was single. At least, that’s what she told me, but obviously, she was lying. She didn’t think I’d be at this party, so she brought along her boyfriend and now he’s found out and he’s trying to murder me, hence why I’m in the bathtub.”

  You grimace. You should definitely offer him some consolation. It’s the least you can do after what he’s done for you. “Are… Are you okay?” you find yourself repeating his line of question back to him.

  The man grins lopsidedly. “Yeah, I’ve drowned all my sorrows in alcohol and,”--He reaches into the bathtub before pulling out and entire bottle of some expensive looking champagne--“I’ve got more.”

  You snort. “You stole the alcohol?”

  “In my defence, this is so little compared to what’s out there that I really doubt anyone noticed.” He shrugs. “Plus, have you seen the size of this house. I mean, take this bathroom for instance. There’s two sinks! Who the hell needs two sinks? Even if I stole a truckloads worth of alcohol--which trust me, I was tempted to do--that would barely scratch the surface of this guy’s no doubt massive alcohol collection.”

  You slump in your seat. “You know what? A truckload of alcohol sounds really nice right now.”

  “Is that you telling me that you’re willing to help me in my alcohol heist?”

  You laugh. “What? I didn’t say that… Although, my little hands could probably hold a bottle or two…”

  The man leaps from the bathtub, outstretching his hand to you. “Alright then, come along my partner in crime. I’ve got some crisps in my car and we’re getting wasted tonight.”

  “You’re just inviting a stranger into your car?” you tease. “What if all of this was just some extravagant ploy to get me close enough to kill you?”

  The man grins cheekily, rouge beginning to dust his cheeks from the alcohol he’s consumed. “I wouldn’t mind being murdered by such a pretty girl.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” you scoff, a bit taken aback by this brazenly flirtatious comment. Admittedly, you’re not opposed to it.

  You place your hand in his, and his smile broadens as his hand tightens around yours. His smile is infectious, you find.

  “And what might be my partner in crime’s name, may I ask?”

  The man laughs as he tugs you from your seat, and it’s the nicest laugh you’ve ever heard.

  “Nakamoto Yuta. My name is Nakamoto Yuta.”

  “Well, Nakamoto Yuta,” you grin, “lead the way.”

[sadsilktrader]

Secret Admirer

I apologize for my extreme tardiness for posting to the Geraskier Holiday Exchange. This was written for @gotfanfiction 

A modern Geraskier AU in which Jaskier is receiving gifts from an admirer.

...

"I'm telling you Yen, the man doesn't even know I exist. It can't be him," Jaskier paced the living room of his small apartment, small watering can in hand, completely forgotten. His plants looked on forlornly. 

"Hm," she replied, he could hear the scritch-scratch of the emery board while she only half-listened to his prattling. "All I'm saying is that he was there at the pub the night you played and he lives in your building and he can hear you when you practice and those have all been the nights you've got gifts from your secret admirer." 

"Half the building goes to that pub, it could be anyone! Plus, he doesn't even know I exist. " He flopped dramatically onto the couch, spilling water on himself. "Anyway, I'll let you go do whatever important business you have to do. You'll be here before my show on Saturday with Triss, right?" 

"We'll be there. We just have to drop Ciri off at her dad's first. Now promise me you'll at least talk to him next time you see him."

"Maybe." He grumbled. 

"What was that?"

"Fine, fine! I promise!" 

"You better. I'm tired of listening to you wistfully sigh every time we speak."

"You're the worst."

"I love you too Jaskier, bye." 

The phone clicked. 

He'd met Yen online, a friend of a friend of a friend. They played DnD together, starting off as catty enemies and somehow developing into the deep friendship they had now. She was a good person, just a little rough around the edges. Well, very rough around the edges. 

She'd settled down a lot over the last few years when motherhood had fallen into her lap though. He wasn’t certain about all the details, they were close but she was a private person. She shared custody of her adopted daughter, Ciri, with her ex. He'd never had the pleasure of meeting the man but he'd heard enough about him to form his own opinions. Heart in the right place but not exactly open about his feelings. 

Sounded a lot like his own mysterious love. He sighed again, there was no way it was his gorgeous and stoic upstairs neighbor. The man was gorgeous and kind and lovely. He was tall and pale with silky white hair. Not to mention outrageously muscular. Jaskier had seen him in their apartment's gym working out on more than one occasion. It had taken every ounce of his self-control to keep himself from openly ogling him. He'd seen him feeding the feral cat that lived in the parking lot. Helping their elderly neighbors with their groceries. Playing with his daughter on the weekends. The man was too good to be true. Which was why he was absolutely positive he couldn't be the one leaving the gifts at his door. 

The mystery man was perfect but he, Julian Alfred Pancratz, college drop out, jobless, barely squeezing by with the money he made by doing odd jobs in the apartment complex and occasionally performing at the neighborhood pub, was an absolute mess. There was no way someone like the man would give him more than a passing glance. 

He sat up quickly leaving the forgotten, spilled watering can to the side to search for his notebook and pen. At least all the angst and longing seemed to also be a fantastic inspiration. 

...

He chewed his lip, the leather-bound notebook balanced on his knee. He strummed a few chords on his guitar before setting it back carefully down to scribble something down. 

The sun was fully set now and his balcony light had flicked on giving the small area an ethereal glow. He loved the process of writing and creating outside where he could feel the world around him. There was something about feeling the gentle breeze against him, the sun and moon shining down on him, and the fluttering hummingbirds that visited his feeder that just felt right.  

He stretched and yawned and was contemplating packing up for the night when he heard it. A barely-there, soft knock at his door. Eyes gone wide he all but threw his things down and ran to the door to open it. No one. As always. There was however a small box tied in a ribbon and a note attached. 

A voice so sweet deserves something sweet in return. -love, your admirer 

He undid the ribbon and opened the box. Inside was an assortment of homemade chocolates. He popped one in his mouth and let it slowly melt over his tongue. Dark chocolate, caramel, sea salt. He couldn't help the sappy smile that plastered itself on his face and would stay there the rest of the night. 

It had been a little over a month since the gifts started arriving. Most of the time they were baked goods or sweets of some kind but occasionally it was something different.  A clutch of flowers, a silver bracelet with music notes engraved, once there was even a picture of a particularly beautiful sunrise left for him. He treasured them all. 

He was a hopeless romantic down to the core of his being. He had never met his admirer but he was sure it would be love at first sight.

…

He was bone tired. He'd spent the day hauling furniture away to the thrift store and painting the walls of one of his elderly neighbors who was soon moving to a rest home. For all the work he was paid thirty dollars and a batch of very good snickerdoodle cookies. He knew it was all the woman could afford to give him and he was grateful for that. Not exactly enough to pay the rent but enough to buy a few groceries at least. 

He stood in the deli section, weighing out the pros and cons of value pack meats when he saw him. The man, his white hair hanging loose around his shoulders, dark jeans, and a leather jacket. His breath hitched and his mouth went dry. 

Gods how can anyone look that attractive just going to the grocery store. 

The man looked up, catching him staring. His eyes the color of amber and honey. He felt like a deer in the headlights caught in his gaze. A few faint scars visible on his face and neck. He couldn't help but wonder if there were more on the rest of the man's body and felt a blush rise to his cheeks. 

"It's leaking." The man said.

"What?"

"The honey ham your holding, it's leaking."

He stared at the gorgeous being before him for a moment longer before it clicked. 

"Oh fuck," he dropped the squishy package on the ground, ham juices splashing on the both of them. 

"Oh, gods I'm so sorry," he wasn't sure his face could get any redder. 

"It's okay, really. I've had much worse things spilled on me before. You looked pretty lost in thought."

An employee glared at him with a mop and trash can. He smiled awkwardly, wishing he could just disappear. 

"You're the musician, right? I live in the apartment above yours. I can hear you playing from my living room." The way the man said it had him wondering if that was a good thing or not. 

"I'm Julian, well Jaskier to my friends and fans." He mustered up the courage he usually reserved for the stage and gave the man his best smile. 

"Geralt. I'd shake your hand but," He nodded to his arms full of groceries. "You know when you go into the store thinking you only need one thing?" 

"Well, you're in luck," he gestured to his cart, "I just so happen to have the best cart in the store. Not a squeaky wheel in sight." 

"Are you sure?" 

"Absolutely! The life of a musician leads to a very sparse diet. More than enough room for both of us. Plus we're headed to the same place." 

Geralt had an amused smirk on his face that made Jaskier's heart skip a beat. Conversation between them came easy. Geralt was the quieter of the two but his dry wit and cheesy jokes had him laughing harder than he had in ages. Handsome and funny. 

They made their way back to the apartment complex walking slower than was necessary, he noticed. 

"So you have a daughter? I'm not stalking you or anything, I just noticed her around the complex sometimes."

"Ciri," he replied. "My ex and I share custody, its-" he sighed, running his hand through his hair, "it's a bit of a complicated situation actually. But they’re moving closer soon and that should help.”

The elevator stopped at his floor and he stepped off. 

“So, I’ll be seeing you.” he mentally berated himself for not being able to come up with something more clever. The door was closing between them and he suddenly shot his hound out, stopping the door. 

“Actually, and please forgive me if this is too forward, maybe I could give you my number and we could grab a coffee sometime? Or do our grocery shopping together again?”

Geralt chuckled before reaching into his pocket, tapping at the screen a few times, and passed it over. He added his number with the name Jaskier followed by a heart and music note emoji. The moment the elevator door closed he was dancing, groceries in hand, for his forwardness paying off for once. 

…

It was colder tonight but he still played outside until his fingers were near numbing. His cheeks were flushed red from the cold. After his run-in with the man, he felt like he was walking on clouds. The world was at peace and he was the luckiest man in the world. He’d almost forgotten about his secret admirer completely until the same soft knock came from outside the door. Today was different though. Today he was brave and he had left a note for his admirer to find.

I beg of you to reveal yourself to me. I will be performing at the Royal Oak this Saturday. Please, wear this token so I may recognize you amongst the other patrons. Love, Jaskier

He strained his ears and purposely walked slowly to the door, giving his admirer time to leave the gift and find his note. He swore he heard mumbling of words. He closed his eyes and counted to ten before opening the door. 

His note was gone and in place of it a container he opened to reveal a miniature-sized three-layered cake elaborately decorated with chocolate-covered strawberries. It was, as always, delicious to the point of sin. 

He felt a twinge of guilt. He didn’t want to string along his admirer, especially if things with Geralt turned out well. But he was getting ahead of himself. They had spoken once and here he was already planning their life together. 

…

The next few days passed quickly. His wish of getting more work around the complex had come true but he was, unfortunately, unable to do any more practice for his upcoming performance. Every day he came back to his apartment with every intention of playing only to wake up from an unintentional five-hour nap on his couch. 

To make matters worse, he hadn’t received a single text from Geralt, and since his sleep schedule was completely messed up he hadn’t caught a single glimpse of him since their last accidental meeting. He thought of swinging by his place to invite him to his show but decided against it. Maybe he needed some space? Maybe he had come off as too clingy? The doubts and second-guesses were mounting.

He arrived at the pub early to set up and get some practicing in before going on stage. Geralt wouldn’t be there but at least, he hoped, his soon-not-to-be secret admirer would be. Inside the note, he’d left a silver brooch of a songbird in flight. It was small but something he would instantly recognize. The glimmer of it from the stage lights would catch his attention. At least that’s what he was hoping. He felt more nervous about this performance than he had in a long while.

“You okay there Jaskier?” The voice came from behind him and he turned to see Triss, her curls down, beautifully framing her face. 

“Oh thank the Gods,” he hugged her tight. 

“Where’s your better half?” he asked looking around the growing pub’s crowd. 

“Outside on the phone. It’s her ex, they don’t argue often but when they do,” she made a face. “Something about him needing her to watch their daughter.”

“Doesn’t he only see her on weekends? What an asshole.”

“Right?” 

He felt more at ease with a friendly face by his side and felt even better when Yennifer joined them. He was smarter than to ask her about the phone call and instead chatted about everything and anything to get his mind off his nerves. Time went by more quickly now and soon it was time for him to play. 

The second he stepped on stage his demeanor changed. Gone was any trace of nerves and doubt. The stage was his solace, the place he could bare his soul to the masses, or in this case to the forty-odd people crammed into the pub. 

It was halfway through his third song when he remembered to keep an eye out for his admirer. He scanned the crowd hoping for the familiar glint to catch his eye but there was nothing. He chewed his lip. 

The third song blended into his fourth and fifth. Still nothing. He took a break to grab a drink. He made small talk with Yennifer who raised a delicate brow at him. 

"Alright, spill it. What's got you so distracted?" 

He finished his drink and let his smile fall into a grimace. 

"I left a note. For my admirer. I asked them to come tonight. I left them something to wear so I would recognize them and-" 

"And they did show?" She finished for him. 

"Nope. Wait how did you know?" 

"First off you're terrible at hiding your emotions, and second I was fucking right and you owe me.”

“What?”

She laughed, shaking her head. “I guess I’m partially to blame, I should have realized it earlier.”

“I- what?” he asked again. 

“Jaskier. Darling. Sweetheart. I was right.” she said the words slowly as one would do to a small dog. 

“Right about what?”

“Your admirer. It’s your neighbor. You never told me but let me guess. Pale, white hair, roguishly handsome, looks like he could snap you in half like a twig?”

“How do you?” He was feeling a little faint now like he was at the edge of realizing something terrible.

“Your neighbor, your admirer, and my ex are all the same person.”

His eyes went wide. It all made sense. All the clues were there but he had just been too dense to put them all together. He’d seen pictures of Yenifer’s daughter but he’d never spent more than a passing glance at Geralt's visiting daughter. 

“Oh fuck.” he sat down, suddenly unsure of his legs beneath him. 

“He called me right before I came in going on about needing to go out for a few hours and if it was alright with me if he left Ciri alone.” she chuckled. “I told him to not be an asshole and spend time with his daughter.”

Jaskier’s head perked up. Geralt had wanted to come. He hadn’t blown him off. 

“I have to go. Fuck, I can’t leave in the middle of a set though.” 

Yennifer waved him off, “I’ll sort things off here, you go to him.”

He kissed the top of her head and gave her a quick, tight hug. “You would tell me if this bothered you right? I mean, he’s your ex and all.” 

“I think you two would do a very good job at evening each other out, now go!” She smacked him on the shoulder and off he went. 

…

He ran home, or at least halfway home before running out of breath and proceeded to briskly walk the rest of the way. He was still trying to decide what to say when he found himself outside the door, sweating profusely and looking an absolute mess. He knocked on the door before he talked himself out of it. 

“One minute!” A voice from beyond the door answered followed by the sound of an oven door closing and the chain sliding from the door’s lock. 

The door opened. He looked beautiful, even like this, wearing an apron covered in flour cocoa powder. Especially like this maybe. 

“I’m friends with Yennifer and she said it was you but I didn’t believe her and I didn’t realize that your daughter Ciri was also her daughter Cirilla which in retrospect should have clued me in but-” he took a deep breath in. Geralt looked nervous and his rambling wasn’t happening. He started over. 

“You’re my secret admirer?”

The man blushed. “I am. Is that okay?”

“Very, very okay.” He smiled. 

“Would you like to come in? I was just baking. For you.” his blush deepened and Jaskier heart felt like it would burst with affection. 

“I’d like that very much.”

[imnotwolverine]

The Accidental Family - Chapter 1

Henry Cavill x OFC multi-chapter

Chap 1 - Coming Home | Chap 2 >

Disclaimer: Fluff, some strong language 

Word count: 2.364

Author’s note: Are you ready for some confused Henry-fluff, my baby sweets? I really could use something to focus on now we’re in full lockdown during the Christmas days *ugly cries* -- So, dear fellow quarantine babies: I hope you’ll enjoy the story! 

Also, special thanks to my babe @darkbooksarwin​ for helping out with giving shape to this story and pointing me at some of the technicalities of brain injury and memory loss. ❤️

(Link to my Masterlist)

--

Say. What would you do if you’d one day wake up without a single memory of the last five years? Would you be like super soldier Hardcore Henry, defeating an army of bad guys? Would you return to the world in white robes, to help Hobbits on their journey to destroy one evil piece of jewellery? Or, would you perhaps be bed-ridden while you’re forced to watch yet another re-run of the Price Is Right on one far too small hospital tv? 

Well, for Henry it was unfortunately the latter. 

And where he had been ever enthusiastic to get back to work and pick up his life, the doctors thought otherwise, their voices all agreeing on one thing; he had to “take it easy”. 

Take it easy? Take it easy?! He had just skipped five years of his life! Let’s be real now! One cannot “take it easy”, when one moment you’re the main character of one of Netflix’s hit series, working 14 hour workdays, only to find yourself bedridden the next. Didn’t they need him? Didn’t they need Superman? Geralt? ..Him?

It felt a bit like he had been the first Doctor to step into the Tardis. Confused, but sharp of mind. Or, perhaps the Gandalf comparison was better; he had fought the Balrog of Khazad-dûm - or in his case some ghost riding idiot on the M5 on his motorcycle, only to return to the world as a different person..in a different time, the past five years a bit of white noise in the back of his brain.  

The one clear differentiation between him and Gandalf’s return being, that Henry had not lost “the One Ring”, but gained one, his left ring finger now sporting a pretty golden band that matched the one on the restless hands of the woman driving him home right this moment.

Returning his attention to her, he watched her, her fingers drumming on the steering wheel as her stormy blue eyes zipped over the chaotic traffic of the London city streets, her teeth biting in focus on her lower lip.  

She was his wife, apparently - a thought that both amused and frightened him. How in the hacking hell could he not remember having a wife?

Henry had always been good with people. Remembering faces, names, little details. But with her? His wife? He couldn’t even remember where or how they'd met. Matter of fact: he couldn’t remember any woman with this kind of sweet, heart shaped face, her eyes the shade of midnight blue and her hair so golden it might have been woven by Rumplestiltskin herself.

This whole thing was rather absurd.

Had someone told him he would one day wake up in a hospital bed sporting grey streaks in his hair and a scar the size of a small coin on his skull, the memories of his past 5 years erased, he’d have laughed hard. 

But, hello there new Henry, here you are.

Scratching at the edges of the itchy scar, Henry leaned into his arm, his aquamarine gaze quietly studying the blond woman.

*scratch scratch*

‘He-hey, don’t touch that.’ The blondine admonished, blindly swatting her hand in the direction of his shoulder - and missing - before she quickly reverted her attention back to the traffic, her foot pressing a bit too fiercely on the gas pedal, making the both of them jolt back in their seats.

‘WOA. CALM DOWN WOMAN.’ Henry gripped for the dashboard and gave her an exasperated look, her lips offering him a quick apologetic smile.  

‘Sorry. You usually drive.’

There it was again, one of those strange references to a life he couldn’t remember. A life that included stacks of family pictures and a car with kids seats and the smell of baby wipes and fake forest mint - he’d get rid of that stupid air refreshener the moment he could.

‘Come on…’ His wife grumbled at the traffic, her lips turning in a pout of pure focus as she tried to push the nose of the car between two sporty low riders on the right lane. ‘MOVE BITCH.’

Henry’s eyes widened at her words, the both of them laughing before she could apologise again.

‘Good gods woman. And how often DID you drive?’

‘Not too often. You were ever the gentleman.’ Her tongue poked out in sheer focus as she managed to squeeze the van into the new lane, a triumphant sigh escaping her lips before she looked back at him, making them both grin.

‘You okay, babe?’ She asked, halting the car again as they had to wait for a red light.

Babe. The simple word made his heart flutter ever so slightly, though he still wasn’t sure whether that was a good thing. An unease settled in his stomach as he looked ahead, the traffic a long string of red chimy lights that sparkled in the dusk of this cool May night, small pools of rain water mirroring the ache he must have caused this woman, his wife. Even as she now offered him a warm, sweet smile, he could see the tired hollowness that burnished her pretty face with dark eye circles and pale skin.

Henry wondered if SHE was okay, but then again..was he? He sighed and tried to relax as the car awoke again under the nervous press of her foot, his hand staying splayed out on the dash as he prayed to all that was holy that he wouldn’t get into yet another mind erasing traffic accident.

One was more than enough, thank you very much.

--

The night had wrapped the familiar Mews houses in a blanket of drab darkness and, as Henry waited for his wife to fight with the door lock, he could hear the hum of engines in the distance, this area about as quiet as you could find in the middle of London.

At least that hadn’t changed.

Smiling a little, he returned his attention to all the details he had somehow missed so much. The dents in the blue front door. The lock that wouldn’t budge before you’d twiddle with the key a little. And his trusty four pawed friend at the other side, nails tapping excitedly at the hardwood floors.

Home.

With a strange ache in his heart Henry followed the blonde woman into the house, her hand flicking over the light switch before Henry was attacked by a flurry of furry warmth and doggy licks.

‘KALLL! Kal, Kal, Kal! Hey good boy..’ Henry smiled as the large Akita near jumped up in his arms, excitement making the dog roll over onto his shoes, his proffered belly begging for a good scratch. Henry bent over to do just that, only to find himself grasping for his head as a sharp pain rushed up his scalp, a loud ring in his ears making him flinch.

‘Ah..!’ He exclaimed softly, but it wasn’t soft enough for the woman to miss, her feet quickly stepping back to him as she coddled him with soft finger strokes and gentle words.

‘Heyyyy..hey..calm.’ Henry could hear the slight worry in her voice, and he fought hard to open his eyes to at least look at her, unfamiliar love and care sparking between the both of them. ‘It’s okay.’ She breathed. ‘You’re okay. Let’s just..eh..get you up to bed, yea?’ She quickly stepped back and licked her lip, unsure of how to proceed with her stranger-of-a-husband.

Henry felt another painful jolt ring up through his skull, and so he could only nod in defeat, eyes clenching closed as he let the woman lead him up to the master bedroom.

Before long he was safely wrapped in the familiar smell of his own sheets, the bedroom a safe haven that had changed little except for the signs of a person that had slept on the other pillow, her smell still lingering.

That same smell now stepped into the doorway in the shapely appearance of dark jeans with hastily washed off toothpaste stains and a comfy cable knit sweater, long blond tresses cascading over her shoulders. She had taken the moment to get rid of their jackets and calm down Kal. 

‘You comfortable? I’m just going to message the day nurse to give her an update on...’ The woman hesitated, and then simply shrugged.

‘Yea, thank you,..eh..’ Henry felt a lump form in his throat as he realised he couldn’t remember her name, his face turning a blank at the rise of her mischievous eyebrows.

Shit.

‘Say now Mr. Cavill, have you forgotten my ..name?’ Her tired lips curled up in a smile.

‘I …’

It’s like she was making him sweat on purpose, her smile growing ever so slightly.

‘Bee?’ He tried.

She chuckled, a silent relief unclenching the tightness in her shoulders. ‘Well there’s one thing you remember. Or did you pick that up when I was on the phone?’

‘It was the phone.’

She sighed, knowing it had been too good to be true, her head shaking. ‘Shucks. Anyways. It’s Phoebe, or Feebs. Though Bee is the general “go to”.’ She marched out to the larger dresser, her fingers quietly clicking open one of the doors to retrieve some fresh linens. ‘And I used to call you Bear, in case you wonder. But eh, I guess that’s for another time.’ She heaved the pile of white cotton in her arm and gave him a puzzled look. ‘Or, maybe never.’ She quickly turned on her heel, her lips barely managing to hide the sadness that licked at her words.  

Henry smiled gently. ‘Thank you Phoebe-Bee.’

Her shoulders tensed up again. ‘I’ll..eh..be in one of the other -’

‘Wait, you’re not sleeping..?’ His voice trailed off as he looked at the slightly tousled sheets and pillow next to him - he knew she used to sleep there.

‘No, no. I’ll be right next -’

‘You can sleep here if you want.’

He had hoped the words would bring her comfort, but all he released was sorrow, a single tear sliding down her cheek as she looked over her shoulder at him.

‘I-I...oh, fuck, this is so silly.’ She quickly wiped the tear away, her body turning back again so she could hide the anguish that wrecked behind her light hearted facade. ‘I’m sorry, let’s just..’

‘Phoebe,’ Henry pleaded, earning a soft sniffle from her. ‘hey. Come now sweetheart. Come here.’

And like he hoped, these dark chocolate words did bring some sort of comfort, a short chuckle escaping her lips as she slowly shook her head. ‘You used to say that a lot.’

‘Well, you bet I did! And if you keep crying like that, I’ll come over to you instead!’ He pushed the sheets off, revealing his black boxers and two muscular long legs. 

For a moment he could see her look down over her shoulder, look down at him, guilty eyes not daring to really look to much before Henry’s gentle arm wrapped around her back as he escorted her to the edge of the mattress, her body eagerly leaning into him as they both sat down, more tears rolling down her cheeks. ‘Now, settle down, sugar.’ He hushed, brushing away some of the golden hair that curtained her stormy eyes.

Again he could feel a slight tingle in his loins, and, for all it was worth, Henry hoped that it could be a sign that he would remember her soon. Even if it was just a little. With a tender caress he brushed his palm over her back, his eyes studying her silhouette in the lowlights of the bedroom. She looked exhausted, her hands desperately clutching onto the messy white pile of sheets in her arms.

They sat like that for a moment. In a confusingly friendly manner, her breathing slowly calming and tears drying on her cheeks. 

‘Hey. If you promise not to bite, neither will I, okay?’

His words were met with a confused rise of her left eyebrow. ‘What?’

‘Biting bed bugs I can survive, but biting wives? I’m..eh..hahah, not so sure.’

Finally, that sweet smile of hers returned. ‘Oh Bear.’

‘Hi Bee,’ He returned her sweet smile and moved up his hand to brush a thumb over her cheek. ‘let’s both get some sleep, okay?’

Slowly, hesitantly, her gaze merged with his, an uncertainty still lingering deep in her midnight blues as she nodded her head yes. ‘Okay.’

And so, minutes later, Henry found himself in his bed with a wife. His wife, her sweet soft snores heard moments after her head had hit the pillow, her blonde hair splayed out over the dove grey satin. Again, he felt his stomach wring, but now it was with guilt, because as he looked at her sleeping form, darkness hiding most of her face, he could still see the pull of her eyebrows, the concerns of life not leaving her even in her sleep.

Henry sighed quietly and turned on his back, his eyes studying the familiar ceiling above his head, dark beams running long lines over a canvas of white. He had a million questions he still needed answers to. And, from the way people had evaded some of his questions, he knew there was still a lot to unpack; he hadn’t even been allowed to use his phone or laptop in the hospital. Then again, now he at least had someone who probably knew it all.

A wife. How about that?

Smiling to himself, he wondered what he would do tomorrow now his every step was no longer monitored by the hawk-like eyes of the hospital staff. He could like..start making phone calls. Or send some e-mails. Or better yet... figure out what was up with the tiny details that referred to..children. Children’s seats. Smells. And.. did he see Lego pieces strewn around in the hallway?

Children, could you imagine? Henry, a dad? Sniffling in amusement, Henry turned his face back to the woman next to him. Where were the children anyways? Had she been a single mom when they met? Was a crazy ex now taking care of her brood? Did she miss them? Miss him? The ..old Henry?

No, don’t think of that.

Sighing again, Henry’s lips opened, the words so gentle he hoped it wouldn’t wake her. ‘Good night Bee.’ He watched as she shifted a little, but didn’t wake. ‘and thank you. This must be as weird for you as it’s for me, but at least we’re ..home, hmm?’ He watched her silhouette a moment longer and then turned away, the familiar streak of light from the streetlight seeping in through the cracked open door. 

If only he could remember what had happened. 

--

Chap 2 >

--

General Tagsquad: @harrysthiccthighss @tumblnewby @magdelen69 @thereisa8ella @mary-ann84 @darkbooksarwin @summersong69 @madbaddic7ed @luclittlepond @maroonmolly @just-a-normal-fangirl18 @hell1129-blog @agniavateira​ @tillthelandslide @elinesama 

[cozy-the-overlord]

Dances and Daggers

Summary:   The Summer Festival is upon Asgard, as is the tradition of the dagger ceremony, where each unmarried gentleman chooses a lady to bestow with the honor of carrying his dagger for the night. As Prince Thor’s betrothed, Teki’s only goal is to accept his dagger with grace and hope that her violent stepfather doesn’t find fault with her in the process. But Prince Thor is unpredictable, and when he ignores his engagement on a whim Teki finds herself in a desperate situation. Luckily, Thor isn’t the only prince in Asgard…

Pairing: Loki x Original Female Character

Chapter 6: The Discovery

Previous Chapter |  Next Chapter

Word Count: 1,824

Chapter Summary:  So what’s in the box?

A/N: This one's also pretty short ... I promise we'll be getting back to longer chapters soon!

Thanks for reading! :)

TW: mentions of child abuse, threats of violence

Tags: @lucywrites02 @gaitwae

if you want to be tagged, just send me an ask! :)

Read it on Ao3!

Teki stood outside the classroom, pulling at her sash anxiously. Her head ached with exhaustion. She hadn’t been able to sleep last night.

Her father had left years ago, before she could read words, before Brant had ever been born. He packed up his things and was gone without a trace. Except… there was a trace. Hidden in her mother’s liquor cabinet, for goodness knows how long. Teki had stared up at the pearl ceiling all night, her mind racing. What was in that box? What had her father left behind?

Her mother was going meet up with some ladies after breakfast, and Osvald said he’d be leaving as well, so Teki had spent the meal tapping her foot under the table as she waited for them to go. As soon as the door slammed closed, she was on top of the chair and scrambling for the key.

Brant watched from the floor with a frightened curiosity.

“What if Daddy finds out?” he whispered.

She pulled the metal box out from its hiding place behind the bottles. “He won’t.”

“But Teki, he always finds out.”

Her brother was right, but at the moment Teki couldn’t allow herself to think of like that. She ran her fingers over the engraving. Steinn. The name came alive every time she read it. Steinn. It didn’t matter what was in the box, she realized. This was proof enough—proof that her father had existed in a realm beyond her memory. Her eyes prickled with tears.

Brant was frowning. “What is that?”

“I don’t know.” She shook the box, the contents rattling against its metallic walls. There was definitely something in there. Teki picked at the lock. It didn’t budge.

“There has to be a key for this somewhere,” she muttered. Standing on her tiptoes, she scanned the top of the liquor cabinet, but found nothing.

Her brother pulled at her skirt. “Teki, he’s going to be mad!”

Teki hesitated. She couldn’t go tearing apart the apartment searching for a key the size of her fingernail. She’d surely be caught before even coming close to finding it. But… she had to unlock this box. It was a need that burned deep in her soul, something she didn’t have the words to articulate.

“Oh, is that all? I can handle that.”

Her mouth dropped open at the realization.

The maid she had run into in the royal wing of the palace had directed her to a classroom on the opposite side of the building, and so now she stood outside the door, waiting apprehensively for Prince Loki’s lesson to end.

Would he even care to help her? Her dismissal of him had been rather abrupt the day before. She couldn’t shake the image of him flinching as she snapped at him. Maybe he wouldn’t want to—

Teki was startled from her worries when the classroom door belched open to release an onslaught of children. She took an abrupt step back. At first, she didn’t see the prince in the crowd, her anxiety racing back full force. Am I at the wrong room? Is he not here? But after a moment, he slipped out of the classroom as well, emerald eyes staring blankly into the distance. He would’ve walked right past her if she hadn’t spoken

“Prince Loki?” she asked, stepping forward.

Loki turned around, eyes widening in surprise. “Teki? What—I mean—” he bowed. “Forgive me, I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“No, it’s all right. I—” she faltered. “I was wondering. Could you—could you possibly help me with something?” Her cheeks burned. How pathetic was she, waiting outside his class to beg for a favor? He must have thought her truly pitiful.

But to her surprise, Loki’s eyes lit up. “Of course, anything!”

He followed her back to her rooms, listening intently as she explained the situation. He seemed absolutely fascinated.

“So, your mother has never mentioned that she had this?” he asked as they reached her apartment.

“No!” Teki replied. It was… odd, to be talking about her father so openly, but there was something relieving about it. It was as if the cord that bound her heart for so long had finally been loosened. “But she never talks about him at all. She used to get mad when I brought him up.”

“Do you have any idea what is in it?”

“None.” She pushed open the door. “I thought he took everything he had with him when he left.”

Brant was sitting on the floor of the sitting room. At the sound of the door, he jumped up nervously, but his face broke out into a wide grin once he recognized Teki’s guest.

“Prince Loki!” he cried excitedly. “Are you here to give me wings?”

Loki laughed softly. “I’m afraid I’m still working on that front,” he said. “But I’ll be sure to get back to you as soon as I have.”

He followed them into the dining area. “What are you doing?” he asked. “Can I help?”

“You know what you can do?” Teki steered him back into the sitting room. “You can stay here and keep guard. If you hear anybody coming, you come tell us.” Brant huffed, but still sat back down obediently.

With her brother occupied, she brought Loki to the liquor cabinet, where she had hastily returned the box before leaving to find the prince.

“Here it is,” she said, handing it to him. Loki studied it, turning it in his hands just as she had last night.

“Huh,” he said thoughtfully. “I think this is Midgardian.”

Her heart sank. “Does that mean you can’t open it?”

“No, no, I can. It’s just strange. You just don’t see much from Midgard around here.” He looked up at her, excitement glinting in his green eyes. “Are you ready?”

Teki’s voice caught in her throat. She could only nod.

He flicked his wrist. With a click, the metal lid popped loose. For a moment, they just stared at it.

Loki held it towards her. “Would you like to do the honors?”

Hesitantly, she nodded. When did the air get so heavy?  With trembling hands, she lifted the lid and turned it on its hinge. They peered over the edge with bated breath.

The musty scent of secrets long forgotten greeted them.

Loki frowned. “What the Hel?” Atop the stack of yellowed documents were two small glass vials, one empty, one sealed and filled with a deep burgundy liquid. Delicately, he lifted the full vial between his forefinger and his thumb, watching it slosh around as he shook it.

“Your father wasn’t a potion-maker, was he?” he asked.

Teki barely heard him. Slowly, as if she were underwater, she reached out to pick up the faded leather journal that rested besides the vials. She stared at it in her hands, like something out of a dream.

The prince followed her gaze. “What is it?”

“It’s—it can’t—” she flipped through the pages, drinking in the familiar script. “This is my father’s journal.” He had kept it with him wherever he went, always at the ready to scribble down some new melody or idea. When he was writing, he’d keep it balanced on the music shelf of the piano as he played, changing a note or two, testing out new sounds. How did that sound, Teki? Did you like that part better or worse?

Teki blinked furiously. “He took this everywhere with him,” she whispered. There was a deep, primal sort of panic building in her chest. She felt as if she might be choking. “Everywhere. Why would she have it? Why wouldn’t he take it with him?”

Loki looked as though he was about to say something when Brant scrambled in, pale as a ghost.

“He’s coming!” he hissed. “Daddy’s coming!”

Already?!

She slammed the box closed without thinking to return the journal. “You can’t be here!” she whispered frantically to Loki as she ripped it from his hands and shoved it back into the liquor cabinet. “The window! In my room!” She knew she couldn’t be making much sense, but Loki understood. He dashed out of the room, disappearing up the stairs just as the front door opened.

It was only then that she realized she was still holding her father’s journal in her hand. Teki barely had time to shove it under her sash and cross her arms atop it before Osvald strode into the room. She quickly dropped her gaze to the floor.

He glared. “What are you doing?”

Her fingers traced the outline of the journal under the fabric. Please don’t let him see it. “Nothing, sir.”

“Nothing?”

“I was just going to help Brant with his reading.” Her voice was trembling more than it should. Keep it together. Keep it together.

Osvald snorted. “You and your fucking reading.” He walked past her into the room, smacking her bottom as he went. Teki flinched. “Well, get to it.”

She fled to her bedroom.

Brant was huddled next to her window, face pressed against the glass. Loki was nowhere to be seen.

“Did he leave?” she whispered. Brant nodded, pointing to the ground. Teki followed his gaze. The prince was standing on the ground, just below her window, brow furrowed in concern. When he saw her looking, he visibly relaxed. He motioned towards her, then towards her apartment. Are you all right?

Did… did he linger just to make sure she was safe? Warmth flooded her chest, soothing her racing heart. Teki smiled and nodded, waving him away. Everything’s fine. Don’t worry.

Loki grinned, giving her an exaggerated bow before he left. My lady.

Chuckling, Teki sank to the ground, back against the wall. But the lightheartedness was quick to fade. Her father’s journal rested heavily against her torso. She pulled it from her sash, cradling it against her chest. It shouldn’t be here. It should have been out traveling the universe at her father’s side, not locked away to rot in a liquor cabinet. She didn’t understand.

“What’s that?” whispered Brant, pointing at the journal.

She glanced at her half-brother. Did he even know about her father? He certainly wasn’t a topic that came up in casual conversation.

“It belonged to my father,” she said carefully.

He frowned. “Daddy?” he asked, motioning towards the stairs.

“No, not him. My daddy. My real daddy.” There was an ache in her heart as she tried to explain. How many years had she spent playing along with the charade that her father had never existed? How many times had she allowed herself to be introduced as Tekla Osvalddottir? There was a reason Brant didn’t know of him, and part of that reason was her.

Brant cocked his head in confusion. “Your daddy?” he asked. “Where is he?”

“I don’t know.” She inhaled slowly. Underneath the journal, a newfound determination was burning in her heart. “But I’m going to find out.”

[spookyspaghettisundae]

Steele Resolve

Over 300 billion years into the future.

"Get out," Dallas told Darkwing.

He eyed her suspiciously, then she shoved him—captain of this ship—out of his very own cabin. Punching the control button by the door, the panel slid shut in between them in a flash, shutting out both him and the glaring light from the corridor.

She stifled a laugh as the hypersteel barrier muffled his yapping—something about being a living god, among other things, rattling on as he audibly turned and wandered away, babbling all the way to the Avian's cockpit.

Dallas waited till he was far enough away, then listened at the door even longer. Ensuring she heard no signs of the cat, the psychotic robot, that disgusting engineer, or—most importantly—the girl.

The ship's star-drive churned, causing all surfaces to subtly vibrate while it steadily propelled the combat vessel through space. It meshed with the rushing of blood in her ears. Her eyes adjusted to the dim light in the cabin, generated only by arrays of glowing buttons, some of them steady, others blinking.

Half a minute felt long enough.

She slid into the swiveling chair that was bolted down onto the floor in front of a quantum entanglement communicator terminal.

The assassin tilted her head back and forth and her neck cracked both times.

With the routine of a spy, she slung out her trusty old ballistic revolver, flicked a concealed switch with her thumb, and slapped the archaic weapon against an open palm.

Then—again. And a third time.

A scrambler chip clicked out of the gun's grip.

She slipped it out and quickly inserted it into one of the terminal's slots. Tapped the power buttons and fired up the device.

The soft blue glow of the screen in front of her illuminated the entire dark chamber she sat alone in. A sigh of impatience escaped her as she awaited the loading bars of the chip's overrides to reach completion on-screen and guarantee her the use of a secure channel.

Meanwhile, a window popped up, listing all recent encrypted text messages she had received from her contacts over the course of the past time units. One of the message subjects read, "DIE BITCH", sent by a certain "Dragon." Many others reflected the bridges she had recently burned and flattered her with other colorful threats and creative insults. Fueled by professional pride, and mixed with a newfound sense of liberty, she smiled to herself and dismissed the entire window with a languid swipe.

Clickety-clackety-clickety-clackety—

Her fingers hacked away at the keyboard with an uncanny speed and precision. Hit the key to transmit with excessive force, a sound of polymers and metal snapping together that cut through the quiet, stale air of the captain's cabin.

Her heart began to race as she awaited response. The ensuing seconds dragged on like molasses, even if they were only few.

A screen, cropped out within the screen, flicked open and displayed a sea of static. The silhouette of her handler turned visible, emerging from within the visual noise, but never fully surfacing in full definition. Masked behind a helmet that emitted an ominous cross-shaped red glow, cast in shadows by a hood.

An agent of the Holy Lahasan Empire.

"Steele? You now also owe me some explanations," said her handler on the other end of the connection, that shadowy silhouette speaking to her from far across the galaxy, distorted by the distance and dampened by the mask.

Dallas leaned back into the chair, unknowingly sinking into it like the many times that the captain had done before, sinking into a spell of deeper contemplation.

She clicked her tongue and finally replied, "Things did not go quite as planned. There were some—complications."

"According to my intel, Agent Reeve was disintegrated in a blast caused by archaic explosives."

Dallas' mien darkened, turning into a frown. "All due respect, but Rourke was an asshole, and—"

"With all due respect, your personal opinions need to leave, exiting through the nearest airlock right now. Not only are you living on borrowed time for your treason against the Empress, but you have a jarring track record of valuable agents dropping dead around you."

"That sounds like your problem, not mine."

The handler's voice dropped in volume, slowed down to a grim crawl. "You remember the cortex bomb I had implanted in your spine, right?"

She scowled at the screen, unable to find any eye contact, instead focusing on the red glow of the cross.

"Come on, I'm too valuable to you. You wanted the best tracker in the universe, which is why you pulled me out of cryo-prison."

"And I am constantly re-evaluating that decision."

Dallas held her tongue. Her chin jutted out and she fidgeted in her seat until her fingers encountered the calming cool of the stainless-steel surface of the old lighter, hidden in her pocket.

"Moving on. Report your progress on retrieving subject K70001-34966."

Dallas decided to play it cool.

She had to play her cards right.

"What a mouthful. We are talking about some girl. Don't you wanna abbreviate that name a bit?"

"No."

Hesitating to answer, she patted her jacket down until she retrieved a palm-sized silvered case from another pocket. She pressed a button on it, and it clicked—also analog and mechanical—triggering its finely-engraved lid to swing open.

Removing a thin cigar from the other three inside it, she lit it up, puffed a few times, and then blew a mouthful of smoke towards the QEC's monitor. The agent awaited her response, but she regained some confidence just in the thought that constantly tested his patience to the point of annoying him.

He had to put up with her.

Threats aside, she was, in fact, the best woman for the job.

"I've gotten pretty damn close. I think it's a matter of weeks, or even days now."

"Be more precise," growled the handler.

"Look, I found out how she's getting around, alright? By stowing away on other people's ships. I'm closely on her trail now. We almost had her too! Sadly, for Rourke, he got killed in that explosion by some idiot that had nothing to do with the job. There was a shootout at this place on—"

"Most of that was in the report. Share more pertinent details, or get to the point," he ordered.

"It's just a matter of time till I can bring her in."

Now he remained silent, processing her meager report. It must have been better than nothing.

"You had best not disappoint. You know we—"

"Yes, yes. Borrowed time."

He said nothing.

Dallas' nostrils flared, blowing smoke out of them.

She squinted and smirked, then asked, "I offed Youssell for you like you requested, right? That wasn't exactly on the books, was it?"

This time, the agent failed to respond.

"Right, and now you're having me track down and retrieve some kid that you lost in the first place."

Though the hood, and helmet, and eerie mask with its cross-shaped glow fully concealed his face, she could practically hear him gritting his teeth as he replied, "Because of your meddling, Steele."

"Well, you have to agree that it's a bit—uh, how to put this—a bit outside of my usual expertise to find people and get them back alive. So, you'll have to kindly stick a thumb up your ass while you wait and give me some time to improvise and succeed. I mean, you do want the kid alive, right?"

More silence followed. Dallas blew more smoke at the monitor, wishing she could be blowing it into his face.

"So, my word—you're getting her alive—or you'll find me as a corpse floating through open space. That is a promise. But if you want this to work out, you'll have to trust me." Saying that, her smirk widened as she feigned every ounce of confidence she could put on display.

With an abrupt flash, the screen within the screen winked out of existence, and the static noise from the scrambled transmission went dead. The handler had ended the communication without giving Dallas any further notice.

"Oh, my. Lovely. Fuck you too, Prince Charming."

She basked in the cold blue glow of the terminal's screen and puffed some more from her slender cigar. She tried to focus on thoughts about how to proceed—of where to go from here. But instead of finding clear ideas and reaching decisive plans of action—something she was usually adept at—pesky memories kept welling up instead.

Thoughts also regularly circled back to the cortex bomb implanted in her spine, but the older memories eventually overshadowed them.

   * * *

"I will not ask you again," said the inquisitor.

His hand crept towards a button on the wall outside the cell.

The girl trapped inside, identified on the monitor next to the white energy barrier as "Delinquent K70001-34966", drooled and writhed on the cold metal floor of that cell. She did not respond to the inquisitor's threat.

He pushed the button once more, causing the girl on the floor of the cell to convulse under waves upon waves of searing pain that washed over her, illuminated by bright yellow, crackling energy. Each surge of electrical discharges caused her to spasm until she threw up. Then she collapsed again, one cheek resting in the tiny pool of vomit. Covered in sweat, she lay there, curled up in a pathetic and helpless heap.

This was the umpteenth time that he had used the interrogation interface to torment the young woman trapped within.

The shock trooper standing guard by the inquisitor looked on in disbelief. Her gaze bounced back and forth in between the inquisitor standing outside the cell, coldly and callously operating this abominable torture device; and the helpless young woman who groaned pitifully as she twitched on the floor of her cell, not once having answered his questions, and not once having begged for mercy.

"I missed the memo on the M.O. of how you handle these things. But it's far from palatable," the guard said to the inquisitor.

The masked inquisitor turned to confront the assassin posing as a guard.

"Memo? Palatable? What the devil are you blathering on about?"

VLA-VLAM!

The barrel of the energy rifle in the hands of the false guard glowed.

She had shot the inquisitor twice in quick succession.

One to the chest to send him reeling, the other to the head to take him out.

To her chagrin, his masked helmet with the glowing red cross emblazoned on its front had absorbed some of the shock from the energy weapon, and he stumbled backwards, reeling—but still quite alive.

Damned energy weapons, Dallas Steele thought to herself, encased in the hijacked power armor of the guard. And this was why you can only count on ballistics, she thought next, even though time had slowed to a crawl.

He was too slow on the uptake though, too slow to raise his weapon and retaliate in time. She jacked up her weapon's cadence with a flick of her wrist, unloading a full salvo into his center mass.

VA-VA-VA-VA-VLAM!

The inquisitor collapsed into a lifeless body in the narrow corridor outside the holding cell, the metal of his armor clanked against the hard floor.

She approached him, poked him with the muzzle of her rifle, and confirmed on her helmet's HUD that his vital signs were bottoming out.

Next, she punched the cell barrier controls. The white force field between her and the girl flickered, then it dissipated entirely.

Hunching down over the young woman inside the cell and holding out an armored hand in offering to help her get back up on her feet, she simply commanded, "Get up."

K70001-34966 took her hand, trembling, feeble, and weakened. The false agent helped the young woman limp along through the narrow corridors, using the powered armor's strength enhancements to effortlessly brace the girl's entire weight as she stumbled alongside her.

A voice crackled, coming in over the false guard's armor-integrated headset, "Agent Heinlein, report in. We registered a weapons discharge in the holding area, and Inquisitor Valstrum is not responding. His vital signs are tanking. What the hell is going on back there?"

"Uh, it was some sort of, uhm, equipment malfunction," Not-Agent-Heinlein lied through her helm's intercom. "Investigating it right now."

"We registered seven discharges and you are moving from your post. What kind of—"

"Factory code zero-zero-zero," she quickly talked over the operator, cutting the communication off with a hard reset of her intercom, and shutting him out.

She dragged the girl along as she picked up the pace.

K70001-34966 was pretty out of it. Drooling, bare heels sliding with squeaks over sleek metal floors.

The dozen or more shocks must have rendered her groggy. No matter—she had nothing to do with the mission anyway. Dallas just had to take a moment to silence that pesky consciousness that was knocking on the mental door, begging to be let in from the prison inside the back of her head.

Once they had reached an emergency escape pod, Dallas shoved the girl inside, causing her to tumble forward and fall back down onto the floor, not unlike she had been in the holding cell. Leaving her no time to recover, the false guard shuttered the docking mechanism and ejected the pod. For a brief few seconds, she saw the girl looking back at her helmet-clad face, going wide-eyed with surprise. A jet of steam shot in between them, obscuring that glimpse.

The next moment, the angular pod jettisoned off at breakneck speed as its boosters activated and it shot off into space, hurtling towards a thriving terrestrial planet pockmarked with a brightly lit complex of clustered urban zones. And all around it, the Sea of Stars.

The intercom in the hallway crackled, whined, and then the operator shouted at her over it, "There will be a court martial—"

VA-VA-VA-VLAM!

Four shots had ripped through the corridor and caused the exposed intercom console to explode into a shower of sparks and fizzing.

The false guard ripped her helmet off in annoyance. Her face was covered in a sheen of sweat.

This job was a bust. She would have to cover her tracks. She would have to kill every single person left on this ship.

As two scout troopers rounded the corner, Dalla popped out of cover to greet them with bursts of hyper-charged plasma shots, cleanly removing the head of one of them in the first burst, and ripping the other apart, cleaving his upper body from the rest of him.

One of them had reflexively shot back with a salvo of his own. The powered armor could only absorb so much impact and energy.

Her leg and ribs throbbed, she coughed and grinned and mostly gritted her teeth to ignore the waves of pain, surging from those uncomfortably hot spots, wondering for a moment if it was worse than what the girl had gone through.

Dallas limped away through the claustrophobic corridors. Her breathing had turned raspy. A maniacal laugh emerged from her throat, ending in a hacking cough.

She had never fucked up a job this badly. She was a killer, sure—but she had some rules. Some principles.

No kids.

That was her only condition.

Why did they have to be torturing a kid aboard of this damned transporter? She wanted to kill the guy who had fixed her up with this "milk run".

Her vision blurred. Next, she coughed, blood splattered on the panel by the door. She punched the controls, it slid shut in a flash. She limped away, towards the droning and deafening noises emitted by the engine core.

Tried to make sense of the engineering console and all its blinking lights and inane strings of letters and numbers that said rather little to a woman of her trade.

The outlines of the blast door glowed brightly as someone tried to force the doorway open, using a fusion cutter, from the other side. Trying desperately to get inside to stop their murderous stowaway from sabotaging their star-drive.

Dallas gave up in her failed effort at trying to override the engine's security protocols.

She aimed the plasma rifle at a set of power couplings, closed her eyes and turned her head away. Pulled the trigger.

VA-VA-VA-VA-VA-VA-VA-VA-VA-VLAM!

Sparks and metal pieces flew all over the place, causing her to flinch.

The weapon not only glowed, but steam also rose from its barrel now.

"Critical system failure," a monotonous computer voice announced over the ship's intercom speakers. It continued to repeat the warning, over and over again. The bright white lights went out, replaced by red lights rhythmically rotating and casting everything in an eerie state of emergency.

A revolving alarm sound began to bleat, piercing Dallas' already throbbing skull. The edges of her eyesight blurred, closing in quickly.

They got inside, but the next moments turned into a haze.

A rush of unfiltered instinct—killer instinct. A perfect storm of honed reflexes, augmentations, and pure skill. A ballet of carnage.

Three more bodies hit the floor, clanking, and clattering, and groaning. One of them even yelled for his mother before she snuffed him out with a sudden stomp from her armored boot.

She remembered leaving bloody handprints whenever she pushed herself off the walls of the corridor, methodically making her way back to the escape pods, locking each and every blast door behind her as she progressed, shutting out the sounds of pursuers, of troopers in powered armor chasing her through the transporter's winding hallways.

Just before she lost consciousness, she remembered seeing the ship shrink. Smaller and smaller, as the escape pod she had jettisoned herself with flew farther and farther away from the imperial transporter.

Only moments after the vessel transformed into bright explosions and space debris within the blink of an eye, her eyelids weighed a million tons and she blacked out.

The next thing she remembered, she was on some forsaken planet's surface with a breathable atmosphere, staring down the barrels of high-powered pulse rifles of MilSec soldiers, surrounded by Imperial attachés.

They already had her wrists wreathed in the purple glow of energy shackles, lifting her up and dragging her off, taking her into custody.

"Hello, boys," she said, groaning, then cackling until it was clipped off by her pained coughing.

Unbeknownst to her then, her future handler stood there, amid the attachés. The ominous red cross glowed from the front of his masked helmet as he watched the grunts do the heavy lifting, peeling her out of the damaged suit of armor and confirming that the emergency gel would prevent her from dying.

At this point in time, she did not know him yet, but he recognized her. Had seen her mugshot as a wanted criminal more than once.

Looking back, she knew. In that moment, he already formulated plans for her.

But first, she had to go into cryo. After that, installing the bomb in her spine would follow.

—Submitted by Wratts