#at least he's not wearing maid uniform this time

[kaiserouo]

afternoon tea

[beelmons]

Luxury Poker Nights pt. 2

Pairing: Hotch, Reid, Morgan x fem!reader Rating: Explicit, smut (18+, minors do not interact with this story) Word count: 5,806 cw: unprotected sex (do not recommend), sex-servant kink, voyeurism, multiple partners, non-vegan food options, slight degradation, free use kink Summary: It's Aaron's turn to host the poker night, and he figured it would be a great move to invite the entertainment they all fervently enjoyed last time: you. A/N: This was so highly requested I hope it lives up to expectations. Prompted by an original blurb found here Tag list: @illumi3 @ash-recs @canyonmooncreations @howabouticallyou @unlikelyqueenninja @kay-moranguinho and my always honorary mentions: @ihavemanyhusbands @cassiemartzz

Meeting Aaron Hotchner was nothing short of an absolute pleasure. Gentle, kind, considerate, funny when he finally got rid of the stoic boss facade, everything you would love in a partner whether casual or serious. All these reasons played a role in deciding to partake on a very specific contract: to serve as his servant, sexually speaking. 

"Hey," Aaron greeted you before leaning in to press a friendly kiss to your cheek. 

"Hey, Mr. Hotchner." you replied. 

His head tilted and eyebrows raised with playful offense "I've told you, if you don't want to call me Aaron, at least go with Hotch." 

Every so often he would call you in, mostly to a very beautiful house owned by a man you knew as Rossi, and you'd come for the sole purpose to act out your role. To serve and please them. 

This time, however, he was hosting in his own apartment. It was the classic bachelor pad, the adult version, barely decorated but tidy and resourceful. You had been in there only once, but you had memorized the area pretty well. He also looked especially handsome, navy blue polo shirt and denim black pants with casual sneakers, you could notice his toned biceps in that outfit. 

"What are my instructions for today?" you asked as you got in, taking a look around to remember the layout. 

"The usual. Although, I might ask you to take charge of the kitchen for a little bit. Bring snacks, beverages, nothing too complicated. Oh, and…” he began to say, reaching for a bag that was laying by the entrance “this.” 

From it, he pulled out what seemed like a traditional maid apron. You could tell he had it tailored for your body, and that the lace around it seemed to be fine, not the cheap ones costume stores had. You reached for it and pulled it from the strings you were supposed to tie, you hovered it over your body to catch a preview of what it would look like, the man had a good eye, it sure made you feel hot. 

“Of course, if it makes you uncomfortable, we can ditch it.” he tried to reassure you, seeing how you kept admiring the piece. 

“It’s alright, Mr. Hotchner. But a maid outfit? I thought you preferred me in the bare.” you teased. 

“Don’t worry, we still get plenty of access to the parts of you we love the most, being that the apron is the only garment of the costume you will actually wear.” his hands slipped in his pockets, his face lighting up with a smug smile “You can change in the bathroom, the guys should be here soon.” 

You made your way to the mentioned room to obey your first order of the night. Aaron waited patiently in the kitchen, putting together a couple more things so that the serving part of your job would be easier. Nonetheless, a knock on the door distracted him from his duty. He hurried to open, immediately being greeted by Morgan and Reid. 

“Hey, where’s Dave?” he asked, noticing a missing member. 

“He said he’s got something to do but he’ll catch us—” Morgan’s eyes fixed on something behind Hotch, and his train of thought completely disappeared “—later.” 

The boss turned around when he noticed Spencer’s perplexed eyes, similar to Morgan’s, and he smiled to himself as he turned around to watch you already in your ‘uniform’, to call it some way. The apron was comfortably secured around your waist, the length of it barely covering your front to the middle of your thighs, your back absolutely exposed, being that the fabric of the apron was only on the forepart, your upper body out in the open, with your nipples already perked from the cold air conditioning hitting them. And to them, you were the most beautiful of monuments. 

“What’s your safe word?” Aaron asked, his eyes immediately scanning your body.

“Cacao.” you said confidently, your head nodding in reassurance. 

Aaron looked back at Spencer and Morgan, making sure they caught what you had said. They both shook their heads in agreement, and so he locked the door behind them “Let’s begin poker night, then.” he ordered. 

“I’ll get some drinks for you guys.” you said, and you were about to move to the kitchen when Hotch’s voice stopped you. 

“I believe I haven’t given you permission to speak.” he emitted in a commanding voice. 

You understood his words for what they were: a warning. He had been clear enough, when you were there to work, you had to be diligent. Always keep yourself busy, available, and quiet, those were the rules you had signed up for. Your hands folded on your lap and you bowed your head slightly in response. 

Once they were out of your sight, you headed to the kitchen. You gathered a couple of snacks that Mr. Hotchner had prepared; some peanuts, pretzels, and cut up fruit, added with three open beers. He had let a tray out for you as well, possibly with the intention of making everything easier. By the time you got to the table and began to spread the food and beverages around they had already dealt the cards. 

You settled the empty tray on the side on a random surface, and Mr. Hotchner spread one arm in your direction indicating you that he wanted you to join his side; you did as he desired and his arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you to sit on his leg. As if ritualistic, the hand that was closer to his body was grabbed and brought to his lips, a gentle kiss landed on the back of it, and then he guided it to his member, that at some point he had already exposed. It was an instinct, you already knew what to do. Your hand began to slowly massage the barely hard shaft, and you could hear him exhale particularly hard at the sensation. 

“Rules will change for tonight. You can’t bet ‘All in’ unless you have at least fifteen chips, and you can’t bet two rounds in a row.” Aaron began to say. 

“Isn’t 15 a bit expensive?” Spencer’s eyes narrowed with doubt. 

“Not at all, given that an ‘all in’ winner also gets 10 minutes to command our servant as they please.” his hand dragged upwards, purposely taking his time to brush your skin with his fingertips, nipple included, until they landed on your chin, tilting your face to have you look in the direction of the other two men “And you could agree, she’s worth the risk.” 

Your breath hitched in your throat at the way they hungrily stared at you, but they didn’t say anything further, both Morgan and Reid simply went back to looking at their cards. 

The game began and you hadn’t been given permission to move, you had to remain on Mr. Hotchner’s leg, caressing his member. He seemed unbothered by your steady movement, but you could feel him throb every so often, and it would fill you with cocky pride. That was another rule: you weren’t allowed to go rogue, they came when they wanted to, not when you caused them to. If you acted too smart and tried to make them climax before they wanted to, you were sidelined, given the silent treatment. That was more punishment than doing anything else to you, because chances were you were going to enjoy whatever else. 

You would steal a glance at random times to notice his tip swollen and reddened, even when he tried to keep composure, and continued to play his hands normally, you had learned the little twitches his dick made whenever he was getting close. His head turned to place a chaste kiss to your shoulder blade, giving you permission to keep going. Your hand trailed down to give his balls a gentle squeeze, which caused a loud groan to come out of his throat, and after a couple more fast strokes he began to spill his seed. 

Mr. Hotchner had been clear that he did not like messes; his entire member was coated in his semen, and some had spilled over his pants as well. You reached for one of the pockets the apron had sown on to find a handkerchief that you recognized as his, in seconds, you were on your knees, you wiped clean the fabric of his pants, his shaft, on the other hand, didn’t require the cloth, you grabbed at the base and licked a strip up, repeating the same movement until he was clean, and hard yet again. 

“All in.” Morgan’s voice snapped everyone’s attention, and since you hadn’t been given indication to do otherwise, your mouth kept working Aaron’s dick.

“Already? You’ve only won one round.” Spencer asked, his math not quite adding up. 

“I’ve got enough.” he clarified. 

“You got exactly 15, though, if you lose this, you don’t get any more.” Hotch looked in his direction.

Morgan’s head tilted slightly to the side, catching sight of your still bobbing head. He smiled as a response to his boss’s explanation, pushing the chips forward to the center of the table. 

“She’s worth the risk.” he said, a wink sent to Spencer. You couldn’t help but blush at his words, even if you weren’t able to stop your current activity unless indicated. 

The other two men exchanged looks, if they didn’t raise, they would still lose, perhaps that was part of Morgan’s scheme, but they weren’t about to just give you up by default. They pushed the corresponding chips to the pool in the center, and Reid was the first one to open his cards. Full house, nines over jacks. Hotch was in a slump, two pairs, queens and kings. 

“Full house.” Morgan said before he opened his cards, and Spencer’s attention was specially perked “Aces over sevens.” he finally said. 

Spencer let out a soft curse under his breath as Morgan laughed in pride, he was certainly rejoicing on having made that play. You received a light tap on your shoulder that indicated you it was time to move masters, and so you stood up and directed to stand next to Derek. 

“Actually, sweetheart, I will need you in the kitchen for a bit.” he said, his hand nonetheless landing on the skin of your rear, gently squeezing it “Peanuts and pretzels are a bit hard on my stomach, do you think you could make me a quick sandwich?” he asked ever so chivalrously.  

“Anything in particular you would like?” you asked, taking his question as permission to speak. 

“Some ham and bacon would be excellent, thank you.” with a soft slap of your ass he sent you your merry way. 

Kitchen duty was on the original arrangement, although you didn’t quite picture yourself making sandwiches, Derek’s smile was so charming you would learn gourmet cuisine just to please him. 

You gathered the required stuff, bread, some mayonnaise, and the ham and bacon. Being that you were topless, using a pan was out of the question, so you used the tray on the small electric oven that was next to the stove to cook the pork strips. You were too entranced by the silly way in which the meat shrunk to notice that Derek had walked into the kitchen, only becoming aware of his presence when he leaned next to you against the counter. 

“You make a great maid.” he pointed out, and you bolted up a little from the surprise. His hand instinctively reached for your waist, trying to keep you from falling back “Easy, you might hurt yourself.” 

Even when he made sure your feet were steady, he didn’t remove his hand from where it was, in fact, he simply took a couple of steps closer. 

“I enjoy servicing.” you said, eyes traveling south. You could see his cock already hanging out from his zipper, and you tried to reach for it in an attempt to caress it. His free hand, however, stopped you. 

“I can see that. You also take initiative, that’s impressive.” he began, his hand bringing yours up to press a kiss to it in a similar way Hotch used to do, but instead of allowing it to stroke his member, he directed it to the kitchen utensils you had laid out “But I believe for things to be done right they have to be done with the utmost concentration, so why don’t we focus on that sandwich, huh?” 

You pouted a little and he let out a light chuckle at your disappointment. You went back to the task at hand, getting a dull butter knife to begin spreading the mayonnaise around the slice. You felt the warmth of his touch leave your waist, and you were about to complain yet again until you felt one of his fingers sneak between your legs and trail up your slit. 

You shuddered and your legs instinctively closed. He tsk’ed his tongue in disapproval, and you understood to return them to their original position. Derek wasted no time, the two fingers in the middle of his hand slipping into your cunt. He was fixated on your face, absorbing every expression as you melted due to his digits, your hands gripping on the surface, leaving the sandwich unattended. 

“I haven’t told you to stop working, have I?” he whispered commandingly. 

His fingers began to curl upwards inside of you as they continued to move inside and out, getting coated with your juices. You tried your best to keep yourself still, your hand shakily reaching for the rest of the ingredients. He didn’t stop his movements even when you dropped the knife on the counter from the way he hit the back of your cunt.

“Careful.” he warned at the clinking sound, you peeked over your shoulder while you grabbed the utensil and out of the corner of your eye you could notice his hand moving over his now hardened cock “Come on, beautiful, keep going.” 

You shook your head a little in an attempt to clear it, even when his relentless fingers weren’t giving you the opportunity. You finally managed to pay attention and began to assemble the deli meats. You barely noticed when he moved behind you until you felt his tip rub against your entrance. 

His hands ran over your front as he pushed inside of you, slowly, and they landed on your breasts. A pleasure mewl slipped past your mouth, but you cut it short. 

“Come on, now, I’m not Hotch.” he complained while he gave you the chance to adjust to his member “You don’t gotta have my permission to talk, let that voice out.” 

His hips snapped rather roughly against yours, a loud slapping sound echoing around the kitchen; it caused a loud moan from you, one that you were sure could be heard from the other room. “That’s a good girl.” he praised. 

His initial rhythm wasn’t slow, after all he was in a hurry. It made assembling the sandwich all much more difficult, you struggled to open the door of the electric oven, almost getting burned thanks to the way his cock so deeply pushed inside you, all while your throat was unable to keep quiet, intermittent noises unsteady from his thrusts. 

One of his hands slipped down and in between your legs, the tip of his middle finger rubbed at your clit with a gentle speed, almost unmatching to his hips. You sensed him look over your shoulder to check up on the status of his food, and your hand trembled as you set the bacon down to finish it up. He laughed with pleasure, and his fingers dipped on the skin around your hips. 

“Can you take it, baby?” you could feel his thick member erratically twitching inside of you as he asked, and you nodded your head fervently “Of course you can.” he reassured. 

He snapped a couple more times, rough enough to make you lose your balance and press up against the counter, before you heard him grunt and felt your cunt being filled with his spill. The sensation of his cock pushing your walls sent you over the edge, and you began to drip with your release, a loud moan accompanying the blissful sensation. He pulled out with ease, not waiting for you to come out of your high, and stepped away to grab the meal you had prepared. 

“Thank you, beautiful, looks delicious.” he winked at you with his signature charming smile before he began walking out of the kitchen “Oh, and pretty boy said he wanted some iced tea, be a doll and bring it after you’re done cleaning up, thanks.” 

Without further word, he vanished from your sight. You had to take a second to catch your breath, desperate for a bit more friction. You considered touching yourself, but if Mr. Hotchner were to catch you, you wouldn’t be able to come again all night, he would make sure of it. 

You could feel Derek’s cum beginning to drip, but the cleanliness of the kitchen was a priority. You abided by the task that you had been handed, after a couple of minutes of cleaning up, since you hadn’t made a big mess, you prepared the beverage for Dr. Reid and headed back to the area. You settled the glass of iced tea next to the man that had requested it. 

“All in.” as soon as you stood next to him, you heard the youngest of the group exclaim, he then muttered a casual ‘thank you’ at the gesture of having his drink brought over. 

Hotch and Morgan exchanged playful glances. They knew he was rushing, his decision possibly prompted by the fact that your breasts were so close to his face; they noticed the bobbing of his adam’s apple, and Aaron had paid attention to how he palmed his bulge while he heard you get taken in the kitchen. Logic just flew out of the window when you were around, and his coworkers adored seeing that side of him. 

“You got me.” Morgan said as he folded his cards, and Reid cockily took a sip off his drink.  

“I’ll play.” Hotch mentioned before adding his chips to the pool. 

“Two pairs. Kings and Queens.” Spencer opened his hand. 

On his part, Hotch could simply scoff while he threw his cards on the table. “Jacks and Queens.” he said with pretend defeat. 

The blond man boasted with his expression in pure pride. He didn’t use to be the kind to order you around, unlike the other two who had gotten very comfortable, and preferred you took the initiative during game sessions. 

This time, nonetheless, he looked quite eager to take control. Once he noticed you looking at him expectantly, waiting patiently for your command. He narrowed his eyes, ever inexperienced, trying to come up with something, or rather trying to find the right way to ask. 

“Could you…” he stopped to try and analyze his next words “Could you bend over?” he motioned towards the table. 

It took your entire strength to not laugh, you weren’t making fun of him, he was just ridiculously adorable, and it made hard contrast with the whole situation in the first place and his actual sexual interests. You obeyed, not wanting to make him self-conscious, moving Derek’s plate out of the way elegantly before resting your entire body face-down against the piece of furniture. 

You let out a quiet whimper from the contrast in temperature; your ass was left up and exposed in his direction. He finally stood up, and you looked back to peek at what he was up to, his hips had lined up with yours, his member was still clothed, but that didn’t stop him from grabbing at your asscheeks and pressing his bulge against your dripping cunt. 

“Why don’t we change the game?” his eyes were glued on your skin wrinkling up with every push, but he kept talking to his coworkers “How about blackjack? Hotch can play house” he proposed. 

“Reid, it’s literally illegal for you to play blackjack in two states.” Hotch pointed out. 

“That’s true. You have an unfair advantage.” Morgan added. 

“Card counting can only be done with extreme concentration and observation of the cards being dealt.” his eyes didn’t leave your body, his palm gently massaging your skin as he kept rubbing himself on you “And I happen to be too busy to pay enough attention.” 

“Alright, but blackjack is a fast game. The player needs to win at least three rounds to claim their prize. Draws don’t count towards the winning number.” Aaron clarified.

The rest of the players nodded in agreement. Mr. Hotchner was the dealer, since he was playing the role of ‘the house’, and he began assigning the first round of cards. Before he got to Reid, though, he noticed there was no space on the table, your body occupying most of it, and so he resolved he would just put it over your naked back. 

You gulped in surprise and your body seemed to get hotter, you surely weren’t expected to be used this way; your nipples brushed against the surface of the table, and Reid noticed how you pushed back against him slightly. 

The doctor pulled away, satisfied for the time being with the friction that he had gotten, and realized there were a couple of white-ish stains. 

“Come on, Morgan!” he exclaimed once he noticed it was semen “Can’t you clean up after yourself?” 

Derek could only break into a laugh, and you noticed a small smirk on Aaron’s face as well. 

“Sorry, kid.” he simply said, waiting for Hotch to open his second card. 

Reid made an unamused expression and crouched down to observe the situation. You still had some drip down your thigh, and your slit still had some traces of Morgan’s release. 

“I’ll help you out, but I need you to do something for me.” he said, palming at your ass to let you know he was talking to you; you hummed, replying that you were listening intently “I won’t be able to use my mouth, so if I suck, it means hit, if I insert, it means stay” 

You furrowed your brows with confusion, but he didn’t give you much time to understand. You felt his tongue trail up your inner thigh, taking the liquid that had spilled over it with it, and shortly the muscle pressed against your slit, taking a lap at your entire sex.

Your hands gripped at the side edges of the square table, on your right side Derek Morgan was looking intently at his cards, on your left Aaron Hotchner was paying close attention to the youngest’s movements. He snapped back to the game once your pleased noises started flowing, his hand darting out to land on top of yours and rub at the back of it slightly. Aaron dealt the second round of cards and Reid’s landed on your back once again. 

“14.” the older man said. 

A little distracted by the way his tongue teased your labia, you didn’t pay attention to the words the dealer had said until you felt Spencer’s lips wrap around your clit and intensely suck the air in. The sensation, which was foreign, made your legs go weak; the man pressed his face against your rear to keep you up, and it only made the interaction so much hotter. 

“Hit me!” you exclaimed in between moans. 

“8. Adds to 22.” Hotch said calmly. 

Reid grumbled against your cunt, his tongue going back to your entrance instead, superficially licking, taking his time to taste everything around it. 

Morgan was busted as well, which meant the house took the round. Spencer kept a steady and slow pace; you felt the cards being removed from your back and, almost immediately, a new one was added. 

“20.” Hotch said again. 

The youngster’s hands had been placed against the outer sides of your thighs in the meantime, however once he heard the number they traveled up. He pulled away and you slightly whined at the lack of contact, his thumbs spread the outer part of your pussy open and his tongue immediately slipped inside your entrance. 

“Stay.” you struggled to let out, only coming out as a shaky breath. 

Hotch opened a couple more cards, Derek was busted again, so there was a chance for Reid’s win. 

“21 for the house, house wins.” Aaron exclaimed. 

Your head defeatedly laid against the wooden table, the man buried in your rear could feel your walls clenching and your hips slightly moving to grind against yours. Your shaky breaths didn’t only alert him that your second orgasm of the night was coming, the other two men could also tell. 

“Reid, your time with her is almost up.” Aaron pointed out after taking a look at his watch. 

Spencer pulled away once again, to your discomfort, and narrowed his eyes pretending to think.

“I’ll tell you what, win this round and I’ll let you orgasm.” Reid proposed to you. 

You trembled a little with anticipation, feeling your orgasm edging on. Instead of allowing his tongue back on you, he simply pressed open-mouthed kisses to your labia, making sure he wouldn’t touch any sensitive areas. 

Aaron dealt another round of cards over your back, not even paying attention to your begging face. 

“16.” he notified you since your eyes were tightly shut with irritation from being so close yet unable to release. 

“Hit me.” you commanded, still feeling Reid’s wet lips kissing your sides. 

“3. Adds to 19.” He clarified as he threw another card against your back. 

“Hit me.” you said once again.

Aaron and Spencer exchanged looks, it was a very risky move, statistically heavily improbable.

Hotch opened the new card against your back, and he let out a pleased chuckle. “2. Adds to twenty one.” 

Reid laughed with incredulity, but he was a man of his word. His lips clasped your sensitive nub once again, and he sucked the air in as his tongue moved rapidly from side to side. A high-pitched moan at his movements, and you couldn’t help but to release your juices over his face. You could hear an erotic slurping sound from the back, he was abiding by his promise of keeping you clean. 

“Well played!” he beamed at you and cleared the cards from your back “That was a very unlikely pull, I’m surprised you made it.” 

“Certainly.” Hotch reassured as he dealt the next round of cards.

Reid had sat back down on his chair, and as the pieces of carton landed on you, you decided to stay put on the table. Spencer’s eyes would travel from his cards to your ass from time to time, almost as if he was pondering his next move after he won. 

However, he wouldn’t be as lucky, and neither would Derek, since the next round was won by the house, which meant Hotch was back in control. You were about to stand back up and his hand laid on your bare back, stopping your movement,

“Actually, honey, why don’t you remain there for a little bit more?” he commanded and you obediently remained “Reid, move.” he said standing up.

The younger furrowed his brows with unintentional defiance “But this is my seat…” he quietly complained. 

“You can have your seat back once I’m done with her.” Hotch said, his tone was as imposing, but you could tell he was a little more gentle. You didn’t know the exact nature of their relationship, but you had figured Spencer was a soft spot for him. 

He finally obeyed and stood up and away from the chair, leaving enough space for Hotch to stand behind you. You could immediately feel the tip of his member prodding at your entrance, after what Reid had done to you, you certainly didn’t need any more preparation. You were overstimulated as it was, but his cock was always welcome, and he could tell by the way you were clenching around nothing simply by having him so close. 

He smirked to himself at the feeling and immediately allowed himself inside of you. You grunted with pleasure as you felt him enter, your fingers, tired from gripping on the sides of the table, beginning to curl around in the air. 

“Here, you can grab onto this.” the ever so chivalrous Derek Morgan reached out to intertwine his fingers with yours, giving you a soft area for you to squeeze trying to not lose control. 

Mr. Hotchner wasn’t going to pretend being gentle, his thrusts picking up speed as soon as you had gotten used to his size. He moved his shirt slightly aside, enjoying every second of watching himself disappear between your contracting walls. He let out a soft groan in pleasure, and you could tell he was beginning to lose himself in you. His hand gripped at your buttock, squeezing roughly to help him move your hips back and forth. 

The other two participants didn’t seem to move a finger, they could only stare, with pleased expressions on their face, at the way tears began to prickle on the corner of your eyes. Reid reached to land a hand on top of your head soothingly, and his kindness was always appreciated. 

Your obnoxious sounds were a delight to the three of them, therefore they dreaded the tune of a ringing phone interrupting the melody they adored. Hotch reached for the gadget within his pocket, furrowing his brows at the caller ID. 

“Yeah, JJ?” he said and made a ‘shushing’ sign to Spencer and Derek. 

Reid gently moved his hand from your head to your mouth, initially he was simply going to cover it with his palm, but an impulsive thought beat him to it: his index and middle finger slipped inside your mouth and pressed against your tongue. 

“Suck.” he ordered in a whisper “It will help you keep quiet.” 

You obeyed the doctor’s order, however, focusing on coating his digits in your saliva; your sounds were kept muffled in your throat, but they escaped your lips from time to time, since Aaron was not giving you a second of rest. 

“Can’t it wait? I see. It’s fine, Reid and Morgan are with me, call Dave, we’ll meet you there in 15.” Hotch continued instructing. He was doing his best to appear unbothered, and he was purposely hitting deeper each time, almost making it a challenge for you to keep your sounds down. 

“A case?” Morgan inquired as soon as his superior got off the phone. 

“And urgent.” he put the device away once again and leaned slightly over you. His fingers glued themselves to your clit, circling it slowly, he was trying to, most likely, rush your orgasm. The pleasure it brought to you was a little painful, being that it had been the part of your body that had received the most attention during the night. You whined at the sensation, and Reid had to slide his fingers further back to keep you from screaming. 

“You know, Hotch, there’s a question that I’ve been meaning to ask for a while.” Spencer suddenly emitted, and Aaron looked curiously in his direction, prompting him to inquire “Are you really paying her?” 

The question caused Hotch to chuckle slightly “No, it’s more like an arrangement.” he confessed, still focused on pounding your cunt. 

“Then what does she get out of it?” his eyes narrowed as he observed you, fucked out of your mind, swallow your cheeks around his fingers. 

“She gets to come,” he clarified “as many times as she can take.” 

As he spoke, his hand raised to land a loud, yet not utterly strong, slap on your ass; he did that sometimes when he allowed you to release. His hips snapped one final time, pressing all the way in to spill his cum inside of you. Your third orgasm of the night was divine, your teeth slightly gritting against Reid’s skin. 

You laid there, absolutely exhausted, for a couple of minutes as they gathered their things and fixed up their clothes. Once you had recovered your energy enough to stand up, you felt your knees betraying you almost immediately. Morgan bolted from his nearby spot to offer his body as support, his arm surrounding your middle. 

“You alright?” he asked with concern and you nodded. 

“Here.” Spencer came closer with a wet wipe that he handed to you. 

“I’m sorry we can’t see you off, but this is urgent.” Hotch came out of a random room with a briefcase on his hand and his pristine suit already on “Rest as much as you want and help yourself to anything in the kitchen, just make sure to lock the door when you leave.” 

Without saying any further he leaned closer to you and pressed a gentle kiss to your lips. He muttered a ‘let’s go’ directed to his subordinates and almost dashed outside the apartment. Morgan simply took a quick peck at the side of your head and told you to ‘take care’. Spencer stood there awkwardly for a second; you could see in his eyes that he was trying to do something, anything, but he couldn’t find the right gesture. Unable to take it much longer, you curled your hand into a fist and offered it in his direction. He bumped it with a fist of his own, and both of you laughed with a bit of embarrassment.

“Listen,” you said before he could move away, slightly entranced by his hazel eyes “the arrangement I have with Mr. Hotchner…” you diverted your gaze, suddenly slightly embarrassed “...it’s not exclusive.” you finally said. 

Spencer’s eyes opened and eyebrows raised in surprise, were you insinuating what he thought you were? His mouth opened and closed in search for an answer, but he struggled to make sense of anything, too scared to diffuse the interest you had shown in him. 

“You don’t have to agree right now,” you reached behind you, to the side table that had the landline phone on it, to grab a pad and a pen and immediately wrote down your number “if you want to explore a contract of your own, give me a call.” you said with a smile handing the paper over to him. 

“I will!” he said with almost too much excitement. 

“Reid!” Morgan yelled from the corridor. 

Spencer let out a quick curse and wrinkled his face with frustration “I’ll call you.” he said before he left in a rush. 

You giggled a little with teenage-like excitement, a feeling that you hadn’t experienced since you first started your dynamic with Mr. Hotchner. New guy, new conditions, new games. Perhaps poker is not the only way to have fun. 

[traumxrei-archive]

【 iii. picture perfect shopping 】

summary: for a debutante, one must be the most eye catching at the ball. yuu decides to take floyd shopping with them. what they didn’t realize was how picky the prankster would be when it came to their outfit…

word count: 1.6k

author’s note: floyd leech my beloved <33 i love this guy sm, and i feel like he’s one of the twsties who’d have rlly good fashion ^^

[ the perfect debutante series | or read on ao3 (coming soon) ]

"Master~" Floyd groaned, fiddling with his tie. "Do I have to wear somethin' so uncomfortable?"

Today Yuu was supposed to go clothes shopping. Floyd, who had previously looked bored out of his mind, suddenly shot up and volunteered himself. And since none of the others protested, the rest was history.

"Why not?" The corners of Yuu's lips twitched as they buttoned Floyd's vest.

Yuu supposed that they had a bit of a mischievous streak when it came to their own maids. Especially with Floyd Leech. It wasn't often that they had something to tease the maid with.

Floyd grabbed their hand, stopping them in their tracks, "Aren't I supposed to dress you?" 

"I suppose," Yuu glanced up, his eyes boring into theirs. "But wouldn't you rather do something more interesting instead?"

Floyd seemed to switch tactics, "Can't I wear my normal uniform? These pants are too stuffy."

Yuu thought about it. About the way Floyd preferred loose skirts that fell just above his knees. Or the way his apron was always stained with something or another from running around all day. Wearing fitted pants probably felt strange in retrospect.

But they had to appreciate how Floyd looked from an aesthetic point of view. The pants all but accentuated his height, coupled with a fitted coat and vest. Floyd looked the spitting image of a young master rather than a maid. (They patted themself on the back for choosing such a perfect outfit.)

"Hmm, but you look handsome like this too," They smiled because Floyd was always weak when it came to compliments.

They knew they won the argument as soon as Floyd released a long sigh "If Master says so~"

"Besides, we aren't trying to attract attention. If it weren't for the ball..."

Floyd grinned then, "Don'tcha worry, all I gotta do is get you lookin' the best at the ball, right Master?"

Turned out that Floyd was quite picky when it came to clothing. Maybe that was why Jade seemed quite apologetic as he was sending them off. What they thought would be a simple shopping trip turned out to be a quest for "only the best that fit Master," as Floyd put it.

"This material...isn't it on the cheaper side?"

Or, "Nah, this color doesn't match your eyes."

Or, their personal favorite, "Master, you're rich, so shouldn't you get a bigger rock?"

Yuu would’ve laughed at all of Floyd’s comments if it wasn’t considered rude to the store owners. The good thing was that Floyd had basically done the hard part for them. He had chosen a suitable outfit on their behalf, swathing them in Night Raven grey, adorned with gold trimmings. And then there were the boots made out of leather from a foreign land. Yuu probably would've chosen without worrying too much about quality if it weren't for Floyd, but he seemed determined to watch over their purchases like a hawk. 

Their feet were getting a bit tired, but Yuu couldn't bring themself to say no when Floyd entered another store.

"This time we'll find a good brooch," Floyd said as he opened the door, letting them into the store. "Something bi~g and shiny so that those garbage minnows won't look down on you."

"I'm sure I don't need it," They reassured.

Yuu knew why Floyd was worried. There were plenty of unsavory rumors going around about them, after all. It had been happening for a long time, ever since they attended NRC. 'The young heir is socially inept', or 'A mere teen cannot inherit the Night Raven Duchy, much less an orphan!', or even their least favorite rumor, 'The loyalty of their staff is due to their status.' It didn't matter much to them anyway. By the end of their Debutante, they would make sure that no one would be able to run their mouths about the Duchy or their people.

"Welcome, customers!" The salesman greeted cheerily. "Please have a seat." They both took a seat, and soon the scent of tea leaves seemed to fill the room as they waited. Floyd was already eyeing the display cases, eyes calculating. 

The store owner poured them each a cup of tea. His eyes glanced between the two of them before finally landing on Floyd, “What would you like to see, good sir?”

Ah. It seemed that this store owner had mistaken them to be a servant, and Floyd their master. It made sense, given the more simplistic clothing they decided to use if only to disguise their shopping trip. Floyd expression had dropped. They could feel the anger starting to radiate from the maid.

“Hey,” There was a cold expression on Floyd’s face. “Don’t look down on my Master like that.” Oh Sevens.

They tugged at his sleeve, before whispering, “Floyd, don’t—" 

“Master?” The owner glanced at them for a moment, not even noticing that he interrupted them. “Are you sure?”

And that seemed to be the final straw for Floyd.

He slammed his hand on the table with a loud bang and Yuu's heart felt like it stopped in their chest. Horror dawned on them as they watched the table shake, the tea set wobbling before shattering with a spectacular sound. CRASH! Hot tea spilled all over the surface of the table, splashing Floyd's arm.

“Floyd!" They hurriedly grabbed his arm, jerking it from the steaming puddle of tea.

Floyd continued to glare at the man, “It seems there’s a minnow who doesn’t know his place.”

They injected as much authority as they could into their voice, “Floyd Leech, I want you to calm down. This behavior is far from appropriate.” They watched as Floyd’s shoulders tensed, conflict passing his expression. The store owner didn’t dare to move either, face frozen in shock.

An eternity seemed to pass before Floyd released a harsh breath, “As your benevolence wishes, Master.” A frustrated expression crossed Floyd’s face before he was turning toward them, sinking to the ground. His forehead pressed against their knee, and Yuu fought not to comfort Floyd for a second.

Instead, they looked up. Yuu stared at the spilled tea with disdain, “Well? Clean up the mess. I'll compensate for the broken tea set.” 

“Y-Yes, of course,” The man seemed to sweat even more as he bowed. “And...may I know your name?” The nerve of him to ask after all that.

“Your ignorance astounds me. Most know me as the heir to the Night Raven Duchy.” And the owner turned white as a sheet. Good. That should teach him not to forget their face ever again. As the man stumbled out, they turned their attention to Floyd.

Yuu finally let their hand card into Floyd’s hair, “Floyd. You’re not upset with me, are you?”

“‘M not,” His voice was muffled, and they could feel him press his cheek against their knee. “Are you mad at me?”

They let out a light laugh, brushing the hair out of Floyd’s eyes. He was staring right at them now. “I’m not. I understand why you were offended. Now he’ll never forget my face for as long as he lives.” Floyd had a bleeding heart when it came to those that challenged their status, more than any of their other maids. And that big of a blunder coupled with the fact that the debutante was soon… It was no wonder Floyd had snapped.

"But Master..." Floyd was pouting now. "You don't hafta compensate him."

"I have to compensate him for the damageds. But the Night Raven Duchy will never give him another penny ever again," Yuu held up their palm. "Now show me your hand.”

Floyd obediently lifted his arm, which was all but soaked in tea, “It doesn’t hurt.” The skin was reddened slightly, and they frowned, wishing that they had intervened quicker.

“Still, we should have the doctor take a look later. And you should get changed,” Yuu traced over the wetness of his sleeve. “I…have your uniform. It's in our carriage, down the block.”

Floyd’s head shot up, eyes glittering, “Really?”

They nodded, sheepishly, “If you really were uncomfortable in those clothes, I wasn’t going to force you to keep wearing it for the whole— Woah—“ Floyd stood up, leaving the store before they could finish their sentence.

The owner finally returned. They wondered if he timed it so that Floyd would leave before he entered. They glanced at him, “Do you happen to have a fitting room here?”

“E-Excuse me? This is a jewelry store, but we—“ The door opened almost violently as Floyd walked back in, expression dangerously dark once more. They tapped a finger against their arm. The owner coughed, “W-We have an empty storage room at the back, p-please go ahead, your grace.”

“Thank you,” Yuu brushed off their clothes before offering a hand to Floyd. “Shall we?” Floyd seemed happy to lead them to the back, and more than happy to change back into his normal attire.

Yuu chuckled at the sight of the lopsided headband and the carelessly tied apron. Riddle and Jamil would have a heart attack if they saw what Floyd looked like as he exited the store.

Floyd stretching ahead of them, “Kinda wish I could've beaten him up a little~”

"Floyd Leech, that is unacceptable," They said with mock seriousness, as Floyd laughed cheerily.

And watching Floyd skipping down the streets, pointing to another store up ahead, well... They couldn't say no.

thank you for reading ^^ if you’d like to read more, check out my masterlist ! like the art ? look at more of dumple's works on insta !

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[speedycoffeedelight]

An Animalistic Disaster

Summery:You find yourself in a bit of a tight spot...

Masterlist

CH-13: A small problem arises

Charlie's scream brought Vaggie and Pentious in the room as they stood there agape as well.

'What's with all the ruckus around here?' Alastor said as he stepped inside the cabin again for the second time. 'Niffty's human again!' Pentious answered from your door looking back at Alastor.

Alastor quickly peeked into the room over Vaggie's shoulder.

Indeed there was Niffty, who now had much more humane appearance being held by you. She had short light brown hair with red hues which were all damp and wet. On top of her milkish white skin was a pair of light yellow eyes blinking at you, not knowing what just happened while holding onto your shoulder.

She also had her old maid uniform on. But there was a tiny hole behind her dress where a small dog tail was poking out and she had a pair of dog ears as well. Despite her small frame, she was still an adult. But you kept holding her up like she weighted nothing.

After your eyes adjusted finally you slowly opened your eyes. "Niffty..?" You choked out. You were surprised to find yourself holding onto a human, well almost a human girl instead of the cute puppy of a few seconds ago.

"Oh my god Niffty you became human too!" Charlie sequeled as she ran over to you both. As she was talking about Niffty's new look to her you felt water droplets fall on your chest. Looking down you realised you may have been holding Niffty for quite a while and water from her hair was falling on you. You decided to put her down as others came to examine Niffty's new form.

"Niffty you have dog ears! How cute!" Charlie squealed as she leaned down to her level. Alastor came close to Niffty, taking in her new form.

'Niffty, dear, tell me exactly what you were doing before you turned into this. Spare no details' Alastor quickly inquired as soon as he stepped inside the room.

"Let the girl breathe Alastor. She just turned human, let her get used to her form first" Vaggie stepped in front of her.

"Niffty you feel any different?" You asked crouching down to her height.

"No I don't think so? But I can clean properly now! There are some spots I couldn't reach as a dog. I'm coming for those now!" She ended with a creepy laugh as she sprinted to finally clean with proper stuffs.

You nervously laughed looking at her. "At least she's making the best of her form" you stood up.

'Sooo, Charlie ...' Angel began to speak .

'As of so far about turning into human, the timing is from when you come here right?'

"Seems like it for now yeah! Why?" Charlie asked turning to face the spider. Meanwhile you grabbed a new loose t-shirt and shorts and went to take a quick shower in the bathroom.

'That means I'm next right? Haha,fuck yeah! Can't wait to finally get out of this shitty spider body!' Angel said celebrating by himself.

'Hold on that means I'm last! Fucking great..' Cherri looked the exact opposite of Angel dust.

'Heh don't worry toots, I'll personally carry you around when I become human again.'

'oh fuck off'

When you came out of the shower, you were faced with Niffty literally zooming from place to place with a duster and big ass needle, that gods knows where she found from, cleaning your place up. You could appreciate her enthusiasm. At least you don't have to worry about cleaning your cabin any longer.

"Hey (Y/n), could we borrow some of your clothes?" Vaggie asked standing beside you. "Me and Charlie wanted to take a shower if you don't mind but we don't really have other cloths..."

"Oh yes please go ahead!" You quickly reassured her. "Choose whichever you'd like, please. Most of my clothes are kinda oversized since they're most comfortable to wear. But I have some tight fitted ones of my own size too. You should be able to find the ones that fit you "

"Thank you, we'll go pick some out then" Vaggie smiled at you as she went to fetch Charlie and get the cloths. You went outside at your balcony as you sipped on

some coffee and scrolled through twitter.

"They're gonna sell trading cards now?" You were wide eyed looking at the video that the Hazbin hotel twitter account just posted. "There's keychains and literal key too!! Ahhh I want it! I want it so bad!"

But your wallet was practically crying. If you were to buy those right now, it might be hard to even last the week. Especially since there are three new people in the house. Your next paycheck should come after this week was over.

There was another thing to consider, if all of the cast turned human, you might not have enough money to feed all of them. Something needs to be done so at least you all don't starve. So it was a bit of a problem.

You headed back inside so you could call for a meeting. You found Charlie and Vaggie drying their hair in your room. Vaggie wore a oversized hoodie of yours with shorts and Charlie wore one of your dresses. Your heart practically swooned at the sight of them wearing your cloths. Was this the reason people in relationship steal each others cloths so much?

You explained the situation to Vaggie who quickly gathered the other animals and Niffty. You sat on your bed and explained your concerns. Vaggie volunteered to translate for the animals.

"We really need to find a way to make more money. My salary might be enough to somehow feed three to four people at best. But not about eight of you"

'What if we attacked drunks and perverts in the streets and took their money? We would be keeping the streets clean AND get the money we need' Alastor suggested.

"Are you fucking nuts? No way we're doing that!" Vaggie screamed.

"Wait what did he say?" You asked confused looking at both of them.

"Oh he said if we could kill people and take their money" Niffty answered for you while swinging her feet from the bed.

"What the- noo!" This time you screamed looking at Alastor. "Can you not about think anything except hurting others?"

'You are the one who asked us for our suggestion'

'What if you guys become stripper's instead? It pays good money~'

"I don't think I'd be comfortable with that Angel..." Charlie nervously laughed.

After a lot more talking and presenting ideas and erasing them, Pentious finally spoke up.

'What if Charlie and Vaggie gets a job here?'

Vaggie translated it for you. "Job huh..that might be the best but where could you guys work around here without any papers.." you mumbled by yourself. "Not to mention Charlie's horns and Vaggie's antenna's on the head."

"Oh oh I could make something at home with my sewing if you'd like! Then we can go sell it!" Niffty chipped in.

'And I could create new gadgetsss when I become human! No doubt people will go crazy with the inventionss made by the great Sir Pentiousss!'

You smiled after you heard Niffty and Vaggie translated Pentious's words. "Yes that could work as well. Nice thinking both of you"

"As for the rest of you, we'll decide once you become human. For now we'll focus on getting Charlie or Vaggie to work so the load lessens a bit.  Though it'll be hard finding a place that doesn't require any paperworks or something.."

You scratched your chin, deep in thought. Suddenly you remembered about a certain someone.

"I think I know just who to call for a little help to get through. But I really would rather not call her without an emergency." You sighed.

"Oh who is it (Y/n)?" Charlie asked with curiosity.

"My cousin, Melody." You said looking at the phone. "It's been some time since I last talked with her." You said sadly.

'Do you have an issue going on that girl or something?' Husk asked from the chair he was sitting and Niffty translated it for you.

"No no, not at all. It's the opposite in fact. I see her as my little sister and we basically grew up together "

"Then what's the matter?" Vaggie was confused with you answer. "Why didn't you call her all this time?"

"Her parents hate me. So I try not to call her as much so she doesn't get in any trouble. But I think a call is long overdue by now" you dialed up the number and exhaled trying to prepare yourself. "I'll be right back after the call" You said while moving out to the balcony and calling her.

'Why would anyone hate someone so sssweet as her?' Pentious said as he looked at all of them.

"I know right? She has been taking care of us all these time and she's practically an angel!" Charlie exclaimed.

'Now now Charlie, don't go jumping to conclusions just yet. We haven't seen all of her. Who knows what she's hiding in her past.' Alastor said with a grin. 'There must be some reason for this'

'Even though I hate to admit it, this fucker might be right. Don't get all high horse about her now. We barely know her properly.' Husk looked away and lied down on the chair and curled up facing away from everyone.

"Let's not all get hasty. We should wait for her to come back and hear from her what happened" Vaggie tried to stay neutral about all these as she looked in the direction of the balcony.

Melody didn't pick up the first call. But she picked the second. With your heart pounding you asked softly first like you always do.

"Hey is this a good time?"

This was to ensure your aunt, uncle or her dreaded brother weren't nearby to stir up trouble for Melody. You smiled when she said yes in a overjoyed tone.

"Yes it is! Skylar got in trouble for drinking last night and mom and dad's letting him have it. They won't be here for some time. And why haven't you called all this time?? I missed you!"

You smiled gently hearing she still misses you. And it looked like her brother was being a pain in the ass as usual.

"Isn't that guy like 15 or something? Anyway, I'm sorry for not calling you Mel, I was afraid of getting you in trouble.. "

"Girl stop worrying about me! I'll handle them one way or another. But I suppose you had a reason for calling me now hm?"

You felt guilt travelling through your entire body to reconsider your decision to ask her for help.

"Yes I actually did..but let me hear about how your life's been so far! Tell me all the gossips!"

"Hm,sure then. There was this guy...."

Melody talked about a guy she has a crush on, how her parents are overpressuring her with their expectations to a new shitty series she just started watching. You both laughed and joked just like old times. It was almost enough to make you forget about the whole deal.

"And the story's so fucking boring too like god you won't believe! Bitch at least have interesting characters! Oh and anyways what was the thing you wanted to talk to me about?"

"I was hoping you could lend me some money... I'm kinda in a tight spot recently after I bought the new cabin. I'll repay you don't worry -" you got cut off from her answering.

"Shut up, not a another word from you! Take as much as you need and don't worry about paying!"

"But-"

"No buts!" Melody's voice became a bit softer. "You never really ask me for anything. You're always the one helping me out since we were little. Let me have this at least (Y/n)"

"Alright...and who says you don't do anything?" You said with small smile creeping on your face.

After a bit more talking you told her a decent amount of money that you needed in case of emergency. You made sure to not ask more then you might need. After a few seconds of cutting the call, you got a notification saying the money has been transferred.

You went back inside with a smile on your face. "I got the money guys! We don't need to worry about starving for now." You happily announced at the lot.

"That's great to hear! Also (Y/n) some of us was a little curious about what you said before, of your aunt's and uncle not liking you.." Charlie said looking at Alastor and Husk especially.

"Oh yeah about that......" You sighed. You were unsure on how to present the story to them.

"So when I was six.."

A.N: This was a rather mild chap but it needed to be done to get rid of some questions people might have in future.

Also I'm making their human apparences based on their ethnicity and fanart I find online and add my own little twist there. So everything might not be entirely accurate.

Which show you guys think Melody was watching? 🤔🤔

Tagging: @legostars @glowinthedarkbones1150

[vitamin-cunt]

hiii im a new follower and can i request a dabi x fem!domme!reader

format is full fic but if you want can you also add some headcanons at the end

kinks to add

•sadisim (reader

•masochism (dabi)

•dumbification

•frotteurism (ok idk if you make your fics automatically match with your blog theme [hospital for horny mfs like me] but can you make it so that dabi is a paitient of a hospital for sub people and reader is his most favorite doctor so theres alot of intimacy)

•master and pet themes (reader makes dabi wear a collar, very very short maid dress with frilly black lingerie, cat ears and a cat tail butt plug)

and can you make it so that the reader has a genital type quirk were reader can give people the genitals of the opposite gender and do it to herself without removing their original genital (ex. reader gives dabi a vagina and clit while still having a dick)

A/N: anon I'm in love with you. I'm on one knee rn, you have no idea (Tired asf gonna go proofread this in the morning)

CW: As stated in the ask above, GN! Pronouns, cock mentioned (can be interpreted as a strap tho), Dabi has a pussy at some point (idc, idc there's the door), fingering said pussy

Making a broken man of Dabi

What the fuck was he doing here?

Like, seriously, why the fuck was he here???

It was a strange situation, really. A hospital for incredibly lewd individuals to seek treatment-

And he of all people was here?

He didn't have lewd desires, just-

Well, fuck, he couldn't have normal sex but that didn't require an intervention or whatever this was.

He ran his tongue over his teeth as he rolled over in his hospital bed. Even the uniform was weird-

He was in a maid outfit. A black, short-ass maid dress.

"Awww, look at him blush~ Let me have him, I think we're gonna like each other."

His face burned furiosuly at the memory. When he was first admitted, he'd been uncooperative with pretty much everyone. The "doctors,"(if that's what you could even call them), the nurses, even other patients, because he wasn't like them, dammit!

He wasn't some sex-obsessed lunatic that fucked any hole in sight, he just-

He liked certain things. A lot more than most people did, but that was fine. At least he thought it was fine.

He'd scared off all but one of the staff.

You.

He couldn't make you disappear and, for whatever reason, he'd come to appreciate your presence.

You treated him more human than anyone did in this God-forsaken hell-hole. You checked on him, catered to his needs, listened to his moans and groans about this place...

He swallowed down the excitement as he realized you would be coming in today.

The one thing that set you apart from the staff was that you knew what buttons to press with him.

"I think this thong will look so cute on you~"

"You did such a good job touching yourself for me!"

"Be a good boy and lift your ass up just a little higher for me."

It was like you could read his mind.

Yeah, that was Dabi's "problem." He liked being a toy.

Your toy.

He'd always known he had a thing for being treated like shit, but he tried to keep it on the down-low.

Too bad Daddy dearest found out.

A knock came at his door, and before he could even sit up, you were entering the room, an oddly wide grin on your face.

"How's my favorite patient?"

He narrows his eyes and rolls over in his bed to face you and the door. In your hands was a duffel bag of god knows what. "You're only this happy when you have shit to try on me," he says, eyeing the bag and trying to guess what was making those bulges from every angle in it.

You laugh and ignore him despite his bite of a response. "God, Dabi, what did I tell you about keeping these blinds open?" You walk over to his window blinds and sharply close them shut, leaving the room in the eerie purple glow of the lights above. "How are you going to masturbate with any privacy in this place?"

"What, you want me in the dark all the fucking time?" He hoists himself up on one elbow and follows you as you unpack your supplies. "Yeah, the one thing that gets me hard is a dank-ass hospital room."

"Mmm, just that? Not your favorite doctor?" You fake a pout, hand halfway in the duffel. "Even after I stretched that ass last night? Even after I played with those tits?"

He throws his head back, outwardly in exasperation and inwardly with a humming arousal in his chest. Even his low sigh could be confused for an excited groan.

And one wouldn't be wrong in thinking that.

"Why do you always..." he covers his hot face, trying to put into words what he wanted to say without sounding absolutely pathetic.

But, how could one get any more pathetic laying in a maid outfit in a rehabilitation hospital for the most debauched and depraved sex-addicts?

He swallowed and began again. "You're always describing my body like...like...you know I don't have those parts, right?"

After a moment of silence, he peeks between his hand to find you smiling down at the cat ears and cat butt-plug in your hands.

Your favorites.

When you look up, its with a craze in your eyes. And why should he be surprised?

Only the most depraved could work here.

"You're saying it would make more sense to use those words if you had those..."parts?" You tilt your head innocently. Well, as innocently as someone could with a bottle of lube in their hands now accompanying the lewd accessories.

"I guess," he muttered, his hand sliding down to his jaw and muffle his voice.

He was glad you couldn't see his cock twitching to life beneath his skirt. He loved that face. The look in your eyes right before you fuck him dumb.

"Can I show you a trick?" you ask, approaching his bed and laying your "materials" next to him. "You know the position, get in it, baby," you command, before he can answer your first question.

It always takes some time to follow your first order, but he always does it. Even now, with his head buried in his folded arms and his ass in the air, exposing his thong.

"Happy?" he bites, even through the muffle of his pillow.

He hears you donning your gloves and next came the sound of lube squirting from a bottle.

"We'll tell the insurance this was a prostate exam."

A cold finger pushes itself against the entrance of his hole and then inside him, sliding in easily.

He groans in arousal and discomfort. He guessed it wasn't entirely an entirely normal thing to prefer the feeling of surgical gloves to human fingers, but why give this hospital further justification to keep him here?

"Don't rock, baby, I've told you this before."

Right. He was already fucking himself back against your fingers despite only one being inside.

Your other gloved hand rubs his ass, lifting up the skirt to see the skin beneath it.

"You're still a little red from yesterday, so I'm not gonna spank you today."

He simply nods, hypnotized when you slip in a second finger. And then a third, and, fuck, even a fourth.

This couldn't even count as prepping when you were hitting his g-spot so earnestly that you had him moaning into his pillow. But he had, notably, reduced his writhing because, dammit, you made him want to be obedient.

And just like that, you'd slipped your fingers out, leaving him feeling empty.

"Fuck, if you're gonna prep, then fucking prep, don't..." he swallows as he realized he'd crossed a line.

Never back talk.

"I-I just mean...because it's like you're teasing..." he stutters out weak follow-up after weak follow-up, trying to backtrack from his outburst.

But, to his shock, you don't get angry at him. You laugh, in fact. Soon, something metal was pressing against him and after a moment, the metal plug end of the cattail slips inside him and slotted itself perfectly as he'd grown accustomed to.

Even then he arches his back and pants.

What were you playing at?

Any other day you would have punished him to senseless tears for the way he talked to you, but now?

He's pulled from his pondering when you adorn him with the cat ears.

"On your back, Kitty," you say, walking away to change your gloves. He obeys, wondering if you were going to come back with a cock ring like you'd had last night.

But, besides the fresh pair of gloves, you'd come back empty-handed.

He was really concerned now, especially as you mounted the bed with a grin that left his thighs trembling and his mind buzzing.

"Fuck's going on?" He growled, testing his luck with his mouthiness.

You don't answer, instead choosing to lean forward and press your lips to his. He'd kissed you before, but this...

Why was he suddenly hot? Like, burning, he...he hadn't activated his quirk, had he?

Suddenly, a buzzing emerged from between his legs. Then, a dampness in his thong. Finally, a sudden wave of inexplicable pleasure.

"Wh-what the fuck!? Why do I- mmmmh, it's not supposed to feel wet down there, what did you- ahhh- what did you do???"

He squirmed beneath you, the hospital bed creaking loudly as it usually did during your encounters. His face burned as a new warmth overtook his loins, one that he'd never felt before.

He rubbed his thighs together, trying to rid himself of the incessant ache, but you place your knees between them before he can really do anything.

"Why're you so freaked out?" You say above him, removing your scrub top. "It's just sex therapy!"

"Bullshit." His eyes scan your bare chest and abdomen, having seen it for the first time ever, really.

You laugh lightly through your nose. "Okay...Just sit still while your master plays with your little pussy, okay?"

"I told you, it's weird when- ah- haaah~ fuck!" His eyes went wide as your fingers slipped past his thong and inside him.

But not his ass.

All he heard was the slick squelch of your fingers penetrating him, and before he knew it, he was arched against his bed, gasping and reaching for the thin, cheap sheets above him.

He couldn't stop the moans, the uncharacteristic whines, the sounds coming from his- his-

"Your pussy's dripping for me, baby~" you laugh.

You gave him a pussy. What was worse was that you gave him a pussy and he liked it.

He could feel you scissoring in his walls, just like you did in his ass but it was different, this wasn't the same, it would never be the same-

He covered his face, you couldn't see him like this. Fine, make him wear the tail and the ears, keep him in the outfit, watch him roll his hips against your hand as you fold your fingers inside him-

But he'd be damned if he let you see the blissed tears running down his burning cheeks.

"Are you gonna cum, already?" You tease, noting his tells. His moans turning to breathless pants and a repeat of soft "uhn, uhn, uhn", his thighs trembling, his covering his face. "I didn't even get my dick inside you yet!"

You inside him? When he could feel every movement of your fingers, the aching of his- his clit-

He couldn't take it, even the idea of being filled-

"Not yet, Kitty." You removed your fingers from inside him, once again rendering him empty.

But it wasn't the same, this time, this time he felt as though he could cry. The tears fell faster now, he couldn't even hide them.

What were you doing to him?

He was crying because you wouldn't keep fingering his pussy!?

Furthermore, he was rejoicing when you'd slipped a bit of your cock inside him, his pussy clenching around nothing but air and your tip.

This is crazy, this is insane-

"Ohhh shitttt, ohhh shittt~ yes, fill me up, fill me up!"

He sounded insane-

"I know it's against protocol to directly penetrate your patients, but for you?" You whisper as you lean down and it let him get adjusted. "I couldn't let anyone else be the first person to use this pussy~"

You quickly grow impatient of letting him adjust and it shows because soon, light rocking turns to full-on thrusts in and out of him, fuck the slapping noise it made, fuck the squelching noise it made, fuck how loud he got-

Fuck, he was so loud-

He doesn't know what to do with himself but sit back and take it. Take getting pounded mercilessly like a little bitch.

"Seems like after tonight, you'll fit in with the other patients, hm?" You grab his jaw and turn his dissenting face back in your direction. "Think I trained my Kitty well, don't you?"

He could barely understand you, not with you grabbing the tops of his thighs and pulling his hips down into yours as you slam up into him.

"Tell me you deserve to be here, baby. Tell me you're just a depraved sex slut like the rest of the patients."

He wanted to reply, he really wanted to, but how could he when his tongue was sticking out of his mouth and his eyes were stuck in the back of his head?

"C'mon, baby, I know you can do it. Tell me you're no different, c'mon, let me hear it, baby."

"Haaaah, I'm n-no different! I-I'm the same! I deserve this!"

It wasn't much, but even you knew that he would cum before you could get more out of him, at least at the rate you were going. And, frankly, you didn't want to stop.

In fact, you wanted to take things a step further.

You grab his cock, the same cock that he'd barely registered still having, and began stroking.

And that was all that it took for Dabi, because seconds later he was clenching around you as tight as he could and cumming. It was almost like a double orgasm, what with his spurting white cum onto his black dress, and cumming clenched around you. White hot shocks sent his paralyzed body into brief jerking motions and the pleasure was immense beyond his understanding.

He would deal with the implications of this event when he wasn't still coming down from his high.

"Remember this the next time you complain about how I describe you, Dabi. Because you might just get what you wish for."

[ofsappho]

Heartless, Chapter 2

🔞 Simon "Ghost" Riley x reader 🔞

Fake marriage/marriage of convenience, SMUT

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Your wedding night. Tags under read more.

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Tags: degradation kink, praise kink, size kink, consent negotiation, they egg each other on, gaslight gatekeep girlboss reader, pet names (whore, love, doll, good girl, pretty girl, bitch (yes this is used as a pet name I promise))

You watch the military chaplain sort through the prepared marriage license while the world’s largest butterflies do artistic gymnastics in your stomach.

Soap is the religious one out of the two of you, the Catholic one. You would’ve preferred a judge and a courthouse wedding more than this. But there was no time, and the headache of getting an American recognized by the multi-national special forces whatever-the-fuck just wasn’t worth it.

So a chaplain it is.

Soap has told you little about the soldier you’re set to marry. In his defense, he argued that there was very little to tell. Lt. Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley’s personnel file is too classified for a mere civilian, and there are only two single-sided sheets of paper’s worth of information in there anyways.

The bare bones - he’s British. (Of course, he is.) He wears a mask that he never takes off. He’s served many tours, in many places. And while Johnny was remarkably diplomatic about the wording, he did caution you that Ghost’s reputation precedes him and terrifies almost everyone who hears it. With good, justified cause.

Lovely.

But the cold, crawling fingers of desperation and the memory of the times when you couldn’t afford to go to the doctor reminded you of your priorities. And so you have agreed to bind yourself to some dude with a ridiculous, overwrought moniker.

After more than a few years of dealing with medical bureaucracy, military bureaucracy is hardly a match for you. You’ve come prepared with the family accommodations application filled out. You have copies of your identifying documents, birth certificates. The basic background check completed.

Once this is done and solemnized, Soap has volunteered to run it personally to his commanding officer like a good little messenger boy. An early wedding gift, he called it.

You’ve asked him for a Keurig just to be an asshole. And whether or not he got one, for real, Soap won’t say.

All that’s left is to… well. Say the vows and hope no one looks close enough to demand ‘proof.’ Like you’re in some awful fucking medieval romance novel. It’s 2023. You refuse to relinquish any bedsheets. Gross. And they’re expensive.

Lt. Riley still has fifteen minutes before the ceremony is supposed to start.

You’re only early out of an abundance of caution and anxiety. There was only so much sitting around in your old apartment and waiting for the clock hands to move you could take, not after you spent all night packing your life into your car and then climbed out onto your roof to watch the sunrise.

The next one you see, you will be a wife.

Even though Soap refused to show you a picture of Lt. Riley, you did your best to look somewhat presentable. For the pictures. And maybe a little bit for him.

The nicest dress you own, the jewelry you always wear.

Shit. Jewelry. Ring.

“Soap. Soap. I don’t have a ring.” Oh, that’s just your fucking luck, isn’t it? You have remembered literally everything. Your potato masher, your books, and the last of your immunosuppressants are packed into a cooler filled with ice.

Other than the one thing you absolutely need.

Your friend stares at you from the corner of his eye. “What do you mean, you don’t got a ring?”

The chaplain’s going to turn and ask what’s wrong any second.

Before he notices, you grab Soap’s bicep and drag him into a corner as the last of your forced calm flees. “I don’t have a ring,” You hiss as your polished nails dig into his dress uniform.

That’s something you should thank him for after this calamity passes. At least your maid of honor is appropriately attired as if this were a real wedding. Or maybe Johnny is a matron of honor because he hasn’t been a virgin in years? Whatever.

His exasperation is less than reassuring. “Alright. Calm down. Calm down, lass. We’ll sort that out later-“ The chapel doors open, cutting him off.

Wow. You thought that Soap was kidding about the mask. That’s a mask.

A balaclava. With a skull on it. Edgy.

Oh, but he’s tall. Taller than you, taller by a couple of inches than Soap. That must really piss your friend off. He is… very tall. And heftily built.

No dress uniform. Just a black sweatshirt showing ripples of defined, bulky muscles underneath and dark wash jeans. And eye black obscures the skin around his eyes, everything his mask doesn’t cover.

It seems impractical, though you can’t deny the shiver of awe that flicks through your nerves when Lt. Ghost meets your inquisitive gaze. His irises are so dark that you can’t distinguish his pupils, leaving you with the impression of looking into twin black holes.

Do you shake his hand? Do you…

You wait for him to make the first move, and he makes no move at all.

“Hi, Lt. Riley,” You say softly, almost timidly. First impressions tend to go better when you make yourself smaller.

For a moment there, you almost think he didn’t hear you. You watch him narrow his eyes as if you’re more than what he was expecting. “License?” He asks after a painfully long awkward silence.

You shove the other papers at Soap, so you have a spare hand to find it. And if you conveniently remain deaf to his protests at being used as a shelf? That’s what maids of honor are for - whatever the bride need.

“License? Oh- uh, yeah, here.” The half-completed form crumples slightly in his hand. It’s from those bulky gloves, and you die a little inside at the sight.

When he hands it back to you with a messy, scrawled signature at all the highlighted blanks, you turn your body away to ensure he overlooks your vain efforts to smooth it out. “Just call me Ghost.”

Damn, this one wrinkle won’t come out. The chaplain will think you’re unprofessional. “Okay, Ghost,” You respond absentmindedly. He hovers in the corner of your eye like his namesake, which is annoying. It’s not as if you’re hiding a fucking bomb over here-

And you stop thinking that immediately. You know, in case they can read minds in this heavily guarded, highly secret special forces base or utilize some tinfoil hat conspiracy theorist's secret weapon. That’s mostly an inside joke you have with yourself. You leave a little room for healthy paranoia to offset the healthy humor.

The chaplain and his small glasses interrupt now that the groom has arrived, and you hand him the still-messed-up license with an embarrassed flush on your cheeks. Thankfully, he takes it without complaint. Maybe a little judgment - and then you remember you have that issue with the rings. There will be more judgment to come.

“Are you ready to begin?” The middle-aged man asks.

Ghost nods almost at the same time you do.

“We are gathered here in the presence of this witness for the purpose of uniting in matrimony Lt. Simon Riley and…”

You tune out the entirety of the cookie-cutter wedding ceremony. The chaplain goes on and on, all sorts of shit about love and forever that you know he has to say but is remarkably humorous in light of your circumstances.

Lt. Riley’s eyelashes are blonde. You couldn’t see it before, but now that you’re inches from him, you can’t look away. They’re a pale platinum blonde that stands out against his dark eyes like threads of ice, and you count each one. Fascinating.

The chaplain clears his throat, then gestures for Ghost to take your hand.

The glove stays on. But he is gentle about it, gentler than what seems natural for his movements. “Do you take Lt. Riley to be your lawfully wedded husband? To have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and cherish as long as you both shall live?” That’s laying it on a bit thick, you think.”

“I do,” You say, voice low and confident.

“Do you, Lt. Riley, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife? To have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and cherish as long as you both shall live?”

Something shifts in his gaze. He tilts his head to the side and tracks the features of your face, your full mouth, and your cheekbones. “I do.” You wouldn’t even know where he was looking, had it not been for the stark whites of his eyes darting back and forth.

“The rings?” Your officiant asks.

You hear Johnny stifle a chuckle. Damn him for standing so far away; if he were closer, you’d step on his foot with your heel. “We- the rings are in the mail. They haven’t gotten here yet.” You smile winningly as you hold the chaplain’s bemused stare, practically daring him to call out your poorly-concealed lie.

Ghost hasn’t let go of your hand this whole time. Even he lets out a small huff after seeing your perfect poker face.

“I see. Then I pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.”

You won't kiss him in front of everyone if he doesn’t lower his mask. As he obviously won’t, you stand on your very tippy-toes and kiss his cheek like you’re at a middle school dance.

Then it’s done, and you’re married.

Ghost pulls his hand back as if you’ve burned him, then steps away before you can ask him any questions.

Just as you try to chase him- “Congratulations, lass,” Soap exclaims, sweeping you into a hug that lifts you off the ground.

It’s got a hell of a lot more than excitement in it; you can feel his relief, and he goes as far as to kiss your forehead like a brother before letting you down.

There’s nothing on earth you can do to repay him. “Thank you. Really. Thank you.” For a moment, you’re children again—two kids against the world.

Johnny takes the license and the rest of your paperwork. “Gotta run this to Chief Laswell. But- you’ll be fine. Don’t be too scared.” You can tell he’s fucking around, but there’s an edge to his voice that you don’t love.

No person can be scarier than a hospital bill. “Worry about yourself, Johnny,” You tell him.

It takes a second for the steel in your eyes to reassure him. Eventually, he nods. “Good luck.” Then he makes his way to Ghost.

They speak in murmurs too quiet for you to hear, and you can see Soap grip his forearm tight enough to bruise. Then they come to some sort of silent consensus. Ghost’s mask gives away absolutely nothing, but your friend seems satisfied enough.

“Uh- pardon me, I’m sure Lt. Riley and yourself are eager to…  celebrate the evening.” The chaplain’s acting like you and Ghost are about to start going at each other right here, right now.

That is a known stereotype for hastily-married couples, and he’s probably seen some traumatizing things in this very chapel. Either way, you coordinate a retreat into the hallway to give the poor man a break. 

Ghost holds the door open for you, and you wonder what torture Soap promised to get him to do that. He doesn’t seem pleased. You’d tell him that he doesn’t need to bother, but you’re not so invested in Ghost’s immediate happiness, and that’s a lot of work.

Someone’s waiting for you in the corridor. A poor uniformed soldier has been conscripted into acting as envoy on behalf of the Special Forces, and he asks you both to follow him to your temporary quarters.

Right. Yes.

Ghost doesn’t say a word. He matches your steps with uncanny accuracy, and you’re beginning to understand why people sincerely call him by his preferred moniker. It’s fucking freaky, how quickly and efficiently he moves without any sound at all. You might even forget he was there if not for the heavy, uncomfortable weight on your back that reminds you he’s still watching.

Then the soldier rounds a corner and presents you with an open door. The lights are on, and a bouquet of fresh flowers is on the table inside with a little white card.

Your guide hightails it out as soon as you’re through the doorway.

And then Ghost closes the door behind him.

You and him. Alone. There’s no one in the other room or close enough to hear if something goes wrong.

You watch him keep himself busy, circling perimeters and learning exits and entrances, and you think… you wouldn’t mind it if something went wrong.

Reading people is something that can’t be taught, not really. You’re lucky to have come out of the womb with that ephemeral quality clutched tightly in one hand. While the mask makes it difficult, you are… learning. You are noting shifts in posture, inflections of voice, where those dark eyes linger.

You need to collect more data.

“Do I have to call you Ghost? I can’t just call you Simon?” Your tongue darts out, wetting your lips, and the tension in the air tastes electric on your teeth. It will be a coin toss to see which way that tension goes, you think.

“Don’t say that name. ‘M not gonna repeat myself.”

You’ll do as he says because now he’s staring into your eyes without flinching. “Hm. Fine.” Which is what you wanted.

Ghost removes his gloves for a moment to fiddle with his phone, and you can’t help but stare.

He has beautiful hands. Long, thick fingers, knuckles marked with a lifetime’s worth of scar tissue, more scars wrapping themselves like cords across the backs of his hands. Beautiful.

There are tattoos blanketing his left forearm. You can’t see them from here, and you doubt you’ll get to examine them in detail sometime this century. Tattoos are so personal, and it would take words a lot tougher than a question to get through his shark skin persona.

Gloves go back on. And he’s caught you staring. You don’t give a fuck.

You relish the challenge.

Like a feral raccoon or a bored weasel, you’ll push and push and push until you’ve found something entertaining.

Does Ghost think that if he menaces you in silence long enough, you’ll scream when he says ‘boo’? How cute.

Out of nowhere, he slips his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “You’re lookin’ at me.” You could make a snide comment about noticing the obvious, but that’s not the fight you want to pick. Yet.

You’re far more intrigued by the issue of his ghastly, ghoulish, fearsome camouflage. “Do you really, like, wear the mask all the time? Even to sleep? What about eating? You don’t care about getting crumbs all over it?”  Your voice would sound genuine if you put a little more effort into it.

Silence. He knows you’re trying to pry him out into the open, and he thinks he can ignore you until you give up.

Your eyes narrow. “Oh, come on. I’m your wife now. I’m allowed to ask questions.” Those fucking icy eyelashes. Your feet move before you realize it, bringing you closer to him so you can repeatedly run the contrast in your mind.

Ghost crosses his burly arms over his chest. “Not if they’re fuckin’ annoying ones,” He snaps back.

That’s one hell of a British accent. Not a posh one; working class, probably not from London.

Like his eyes, hands, and stature, his low, raspy voice is beautiful, too. “Isn’t that what wives are for?” You bait.

You catch his eye roll and match it with a dirty glare. “Do you ever shut up?” Ghost asks, advancing so quickly that you find yourself trapped against the wall, some primal flight instinct activated by his sinuous, menacing stride.

And you’ve been asked that very same question many, many times in your life. “Um… not really,” You toss out. Smugly, like you’re winning whatever fucked-up game is brewing between you. You totally are.

Like this, you must tilt your head to meet his furious eyes. “Fuck. That’s tedious.” Obviously, this is not nearly as tedious as he complains. He’s still here.

Your eyes flick between the door and Ghost’s mask, indicating he’s free to walk away. “Oh, I’m being tedious? Look at me. Look at me. Say that again.” Under your dress, your skin feels warm. As if he’s already touching you.

Ghost takes another step forward. “You… are… being… tedious.” Close enough that his combat boots touch your fancy low heels.

Kissing someone through a mask is very stupid, both in theory and practice. Just as you thought earlier.

Somehow, some way, Ghost makes it work.

Gentleness seems to be a foreign language to him; he wraps one large hand around your jaw, pushing you against the wall, so roughly that pain radiates across your scalp, and digs his index finger and thumb in until he’s holding your mouth open.

And that’s how he kisses you. Forcing you to be exactly as still as he wants and pressing his mask over your lips, and your eyes flutter shut as if this were a real kiss. If this were a real kiss, you’d have your teeth halfway through his bottom lip by now.

Great idea. Just as Ghost moves back, you nip his mask with your teeth. Nothing serious, no real damage. Enough to teach him something about you, more important than words can say.

For only a moment, it lifts from his face. Not in any type of direction where you can see more, but the fabric stretches, and it reminds him that that’s all his mask is. Fabric. Not metal or bone.

“Nah, don’t do that,” Ghost warns before leaning in again.

Fine. This time, you dig your nails into the tiniest revealed sliver of his pale neck as you kiss him until he’s forced to pin your wrist above your head with one gloved hand.

He seeks to chastise you again, but you put a stop to that by arching into his chest instead of away.

This sets the beautiful, pristine line of your neck on display as you tilt your head just the right way. You know your angles, and you bet he probably enjoys holding fragile things in his palms before crushing them the next second.

The unmarked skin above your pulsing carotid artery sure looks fragile.

And, of course, it invites Ghost to dip his burning gaze lower.

You look good. You know you do; you know that your cleavage pops in this dress, you layer perfume to be the most memorable woman in the room, and this confidence has been insulating you all day.

He’s not immune to it. His other hand runs along your exposed collarbones before dipping between your breasts. He takes the fabric of your dress between his fingers, testing the strength of the cloth and construction.

Wait, hold on, this shit was expensive. And unless he’s going to replace it-

Ghost has been too busy staring at your boobs to notice that he’s let go of your wrist, and you pounce on the opening. You’re out of his grasp immediately before peeling the dress off. Shame is for the weak.

His appreciative groan goes straight to your nerves, to your nipples hardening under your sheer bralette and your panties beginning to stick to your skin.

All that newly exposed skin and soft curves turn the desire in his dark eyes into a ruthless hunger.

You watch him walk towards you, circle you. He checks your ass out in the most blatant way possible, so you feel the compliment more than you hear it.

You turn to look at him through lashes all dolled up with mascara and make your eyes round, doe-like - as saccharine as artificially-flavored taffy.

Even through the balaclava, Ghost grins.

“Can I help you with that?” He asks, gesturing to the flimsy metal clasp in the center of your back that holds the bra in place.

His gloved fingers trail down your spine when you sweep your hair from your shoulders. “What a gentleman.” There are dozens of other more productive things he could be doing right now to get you naked.

He coaxes a slight, involuntary shiver from your spine when he digs his fingertips into the curve of your breast, and you dread what will happen when Ghost finds all the other weak spots.

Just as you’re about to end his fun and get this bra off yourself, he undoes the clasp. “Don’t want to ruin your pretty clothes.” A harsh, jagged leather glove edge clips your skin as he does so. While it won’t make you bleed, not even close, you feel he wouldn’t care if something did.

Fuck.

Instead of dropping both arms out obediently so he can slip you out of it all at once, you have the genius idea of sticking out one arm after another.

This forces Ghost to face you as you let the bralette drop.

A flush crawls up your chest, blooming pink and flustered between your breasts. “You think I look pretty?” You ask, barely suppressing the whine from your tone. It’s a real whine, one that speaks to how badly you want this to escalate.

Someone wolf-whistling at your tits usually makes you angry enough to hit them, but Ghost’s whistle makes the blush in your skin burn brighter. “Christ,” He mutters. The bone-white teeth on his mask distort, then stretch, like he’s licking his lips.

You spent a little extra time this morning hunting down a nice pair of lace-trimmed underwear, and now you’re thrilled you bothered. “Gonna make me wait forever?”

The answer is no. He’s on you in the next second, palm flat between your collarbones as he practically shoves you towards the bare regulation mattress, the kind of thing you’d see in a college dorm.

When you land, the slight impact takes your breath away.

But then he sees your thighs pressing together, your hips shifting, and your eyelids flutter. You’re fucking melting from that force alone. “You like it mean?” He wonders, half-mocking, half-genuine.

You push yourself up on your elbows, making your tits bounce more than necessary. Just to watch him lose his train of thought again.

You’re dripping through your panties, you can feel slick arousal on your skin, and he’ll know as soon as you spread your legs. “I like it mean.” Your smile is wide and beckoning. And filled with your own intentionally-grating menace.

After all, he’s asking the wrong question.

The right question is whether he can be mean enough, whether he can touch you with enough cruelty to make you come. Already, your pussy twitches at the thought.

Something glints in his sin-dark eyes. “Good. That’s a good girl.” No, he promised you something else.

“That’s not very mean.”

You get no further warning.

He braces one muscled forearm across your chest to force you down before shoving that hand under your jaw, so your face is entirely in his control. He keeps you looking at the ceiling, and you realize it’s so he can pull his mask down.

Dammit. You try to fight it, dip your jaw to see his face, but his grip is tougher than iron and so tight that it will leave bruises on your chin.

Then you feel his teeth bite into your throat, mark after mark along the length of your neck, and it hurts. It fucking hurts, and your eyes roll back into your head, skin on fucking fire. “God, real eager, ain’t you?” Ghost hisses as you cough and struggle for breath against his hand. “Haven’t known me for twenty-four hours, and you’re already spreading your legs like a whore.”

There are lingering kisses that are just shy of gentle, long lathes of his tongue along your sweaty skin, and then there are savage bites into the side of your breast, in between them, his fingers plucking at the hardened bud of your nipple.

Your mind is empty, completely empty, as your hips grind up towards his and the thick, heavy erection you can feel through his jeans. “You do that for every man who looks at you twice?” You can hardly hear him over your squeaks of pain mixing with pleasure. Now he’s slotted a knee between your thighs, giving you something to rock your covered pussy on.

“Only for the ones who deserve it,” You get out between clenched teeth, holding back your moans, so he doesn’t get that satisfaction.

He chuckles lowly, the sound vibrating against your sensitive skin. “Fuckin’ hell.” When he takes one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking, licking, sending jolts of pleasure through your nerves but hovering on the edge of real damage…

It takes an embarrassingly long time for you to put together a retort. “Jealous that you haven’t had a turn yet?”

“Naw, I ain’t jealous. Ain’t gotta be. I know you want me.” He punctuates his words by cruelly pressing his knee harder into your clit, wrenching a long, tortured sound from your throat.

If he keeps that up… already, something hot and vicious begins to simmer low in your stomach, a hollow ache.

Then he fucking lets up on covering you in marks to watch your face twist in rapture when he does it again. “Come on then, Lieutenant. Big, scary, mean Ghost,” You tell him breathlessly.

Again, his knee, your aching clit, you don’t wanna come all over his pants except you kind of do, and if he realizes that, he’ll make you.

His fingers pluck your nipple one last time. “Yeah, I’ll fuckin’ show you.” Then he shoves his mask on haphazardly, withdrawing his hands so he can pull his gloves off. “Take that shit off. Right now,” Ghost orders.

The fabric of your soaked panties rips a little in your enthusiasm to get them away from you, and you toss them in some corner without looking.

And as you hold his gaze, face flushed and dewy from his kisses, you part your legs.

Ghost is so taken by the sight of your glistening, aroused core that he has to sit back for a second and just… “Fuuuck,” He groans, eyes lidded with want.

You run a single teasing hand along the soft skin of your inner thigh. “Still pretty?” Your smile is all teeth, hunger, and a promise that you don’t need him to have a good time.

He shakes his head. “I don’t fuck self-absorbed bitches,” Ghost warns. As if he isn’t literally rolling up his sleeves as he speaks. As if you can’t see his muscles strain and flex with the effort of not touching you.

His shoulders are so huge that he casts a shadow when he looks over you. “You will.” You pause to make a show out of sliding your wicked gaze down to his jeans. “You can lie to me, but you can’t lie to your…” Then Ghost grabs your hips before you can finish your sentence and drags you to the edge of the mattress.

You hear him sigh through his teeth. “Prettiest cunt I’ve ever seen. Prettiest tits, prettiest ass… Where have you been hiding?” It seems that he does, in fact, like you self-absorbed. You’ll drag more compliments from his mouth before the night is over, you swear it.

When you try to slip a leg over his shoulder before he’s ready, Ghost traps your soft thighs open and in place with his hands. “The United States of America.” Fuck. Fuck.

He strokes through your folds with two fingers, not deep enough to do anything but tease. Still, you jump as soon as you feel him brush your clit with a feather-light touch.

Ghost takes those two slick fingers and lazily holds them out in front of your mouth. “Look at me, and this is over. You hear me? I don’t give a fuck how much you whine or complain.” You take them in your mouth in a show of obedience that surprises him, eagerly lapping up your musk and the salt of his skin.

But not entirely obedient - you nip his fingertips before you pull away, and a string of saliva stretches between you. “I hear you.” Whatever. Avoiding peeking at his face is, like, the easiest thing someone could do to get eaten out.

He waits until your head is properly thrown back, and you rest a hand over your eyes, so there’s no chance you will look down.

As if remembering your reaction to his earlier mercy, Ghost takes his sweet fucking time doing everything but eat your needy, dripping cunt. Your stupid, annoying, evil husband covers the soft, plush flesh of your thighs in kisses, he licks up the arousal that’s leaked onto your skin throughout this game, he leaves more love bites in the crease of your thigh.

Asshole.

And it feels good. Of course, it feels good, and you’re already a squirming, pleading mess, holding back your sighs because you’ll be damned if he thinks you’ll fold with no effort.

When he finally licks a hot stripe through your folds, carefully sucking at your clit, your resulting moan fucking bursts out of your chest, drawn out and desperate.

You can feel him laugh against your sensitive flesh before he just…

Your hips can’t get closer if you tried, you’re caught between grinding on his face and trying to flinch away as he fucks you with his mouth, Ghost’s tongue moving with unerring precision to pour pleasure like lightning through your veins.

Your cunt clenches around nothing as he goes back and forth, licking, sucking, making your thighs tremble around his face. “Shit, shit, keep doing that, fuck-“ You beg, mouth open because it feels like you can’t breathe. The air tastes hot, like sex, like smoke and bourbon.

Ghost’s groans are barely audible over the sloppy, explicit sounds of his mouth coaxing more slick out of your core, all over his face. “You taste-“ He presses two thick fingers inside. “So fucking-“ It stings, it’s a stretch, he has to lap at your swollen clit with a delicate touch to get you to loosen up. “Good-“ Your muscles twist and spasm around his fingers, fluttering in time with each thrust.

Then he picks up the pace. “Ghost, Jesus, what the fuck are you-“ You sob, gasping as you try to get control over your body. He’s got every reaction, your vocal cords, your nerves, your needy, desperate cunt, entirely in hand.

His free hand digs into your leg, nails aimed to hurt. And like the whore you absolutely are, every time he does that, your stomach tightens further. “No need to say my name twice, love,” Ghost tells you in a voice as smooth as velvet, like he’s endlessly amused at your expense.

“Oh, go fuck yourself,” You bitch before getting that knee over his muscled shoulder and dragging his hot, wet mouth towards your pussy again.

Your shriek fills the air when he bites, like really bites your thigh in revenge. “‘M busy fucking you. Come on, lemme in. Lemme find it.” His fingers-

They’re thrusting into you deeper, he slides his other hand under your hips to angle your pelvis up.

And then you feel him brush something deep inside your pussy that makes you clench as tight as a vice around his hand. “Um, fuck, I-“ Your back arches off the mattress, and you’ve got your eyes screwed shut in pleasure, your free hand flailing around as you try to just- just get everything under control…

You can’t think, can’t speak, he touches that patch of sensitive flesh inside of you, and it just wipes your brain clean, replacing everything with Ghost. “There we go. That’s it,” He coos at your helplessness, smug with the knowledge that all your bravado and rationality fail when his fingers fuck you harder, rougher.

Ghost helps you chase the orgasm gathering on the horizon, so powerful that you can feel it humming like power lines in your teeth. “Hn-“ Your moans rise and echo off the bare walls, and he drags his fingers inside you at the same time he places his mouth on your aching, swollen clit.

“Got 60 seconds to come, or I’ll stop.” It’s right there, just out of reach, like your skin is on fire and your body is so, so, so desperate for everything he can give.

Tears gather in your eyes. “No, please, don’t stop,” You beg, words garbled up with whimpers and cries, tears tracking down your sweaty cheeks.

Whenever your leg tries to hold him in place to fight off the pleasure or your core clamps down so he can’t withdraw his fingers, he fucks you harder. “Pretty girl.” Holy shit. You just need to breathe, to try and focus, but you can’t. It’s so- “Good fucking girl.”

You need to come. You need to come, you’re trying, you don’t want him to leave you like this, so much arousal pours out of your flushed, oversensitive core that it covers his wrist, and your hips begin to buck and shake.  “5, 4, 3, 2, 1-“

“I- I’m coming, oh my fucking God-“ Your orgasm drags you down in a fury, pulsing hot and violent. Every muscle trembles and your whimpers reach a fever pitch. And Ghost pries at each scrap of your pleasure he can get, sucking and sucking at your flesh, and you can’t do anything. You have to let him swallow you whole.

You forget how to fucking breathe, and you’re sobbing under the hand over your face, trying to escape the sensation, but you can’t stop coming, clenching, chasing the high.

He lets you ride out the last of it on his hand, helping you through the aftershocks and gentling the pace of his tongue until you’re spent.

When that ringing sound clears from your ears, you sit up with sore stomach muscles and reach for him; mask be damned. Ghost gets the balaclava down over his nose, exposing his mouth shiny with your cum.

Your first real kiss is messy and slick, lips slipping against his and saliva going everywhere. His sticky hands tangle in your hair, and you gasp into his mouth from the sudden, sharp pain. It’s his turn to sigh when you nip at his full bottom lip, a deep, raspy sound that you could become addicted to very easily.

Your fingers slip under the edge of the mask - just where it covers his neck, and Ghost pauses for a moment, lips suspended over yours.

It takes three thundering heartbeats for him to return to kissing the air out of your lungs.

His hair feels short under your fingertips, bluntly cut to a regulation length. You’ve done it before for Soap when he first enlisted. You take your nails over the back of his neck once, then again, hard enough to make it sting.

“Bitch,” Ghost hums, and it’s the softest thing he’s said all evening. Like your teeth and claws are more impressive, more beautiful than your obedience.

Clearly, no one taught him how to behave toward a wife. “Manners.” This time, you draw a little blood from his mouth, and Ghost almost melts into a puddle in your hands.

“Let me fuck you.” He has one hand on your throat, not a chokehold so much as a loose necklace. A wedding ring on your finger couldn’t be more possessive than Ghost’s lingering, eager touch.

And when you press your forehead to his through the mask, he permits it. “I thought you just did.”

Something about his eye roll makes him seem younger. Lighter, more playful. “Let me fuck you again,” He tries. Yeah, no. You’re not a cheap date. “Turn around. Come on.” He has to do better than that.

The look on your face makes him sigh. “Don’t make me beg.”

Next time, he shouldn’t try and give you ideas. Definitely not for free. “What happened to ‘I don’t fuck self-absorbed bitches’?” You ask coyly. You could ask him for anything right now, you think, and Ghost would give it to you.

Pained, aching frustration blooms in his dark brown eyes.

“Jesus, you’re never going to drop that, are you?” Ghost is so cute like this, squirming in his own vaguely-repressed way. He answers you quickly, far more quickly than someone who’s only tolerating this would. “You were right.” The hand on your throat moves delicately across your shoulders, massaging your neck, all luxury and indulgence, a slow seduction.

His words are like music to your ears. “I usually am.” You’re a sucker for that specific compliment. And with Ghost determined to caress every inch of your skin, your arms, the dip of your waist, well…

You bat his wanting hands away and flip yourself over. It takes a little care not to tweak anything, but being on your hands and knees is better for your spine in the long run, anyway.

His large palm runs up and down the length of your back, leaving warmth wherever he goes—softening your muscles, getting you used to his presence when you can’t see him, until you’re relaxed and pliant on the bed.

Fabric rustles behind you. It’s the balaclava; he’s pulled it off and tossed it to the side. You can just see it out of the corner of your eye. “Spoilin’ me with this view, love.” Then Ghost kisses the small of your back as he kneels on the bed, covering your skin with appreciation as he makes his way up.

You can’t help your small, genuinely breathless laugh when he kisses the side of your neck. “Make this good, and you’ll see it a second time,” You promise. Then he palms one of your tits, and you grind your ass against his hard-on, so he doesn’t get too lost in the sauce.

He nips your earlobe. “I’m the best you’re gonna have.” When he withdraws, he takes all his warmth with him, leaving you cold and bereft. “Might be a tight fit, doll,” Ghost tells you as he unbuckles his jeans.

Ooh, doll. That’s a new one. You haven’t been called that before. You like it.

His fingers dip between your thighs, nudging at your clit until you’re gasping and writhing. When he works two, then three digits into your cunt, he stretches you out with brisk efficiency.

The slick sound of skin on skin - Ghost pulls his fingers from you to spread your arousal over his dick, pumping himself a few times.

“I can take you.”

One of his palms rests on your back as he carefully, so so, so carefully slips the blunt head of his cock inside. “Ohhhhh, oh fuck.” You go completely slack, cheek dropping to the mattress. He’s big. He’s fucking massive.

Ghost is hardly moving at all, and still, your pussy is trembling, desperately trying to clamp down on him, but you’re too stretched out-

He’s gasping, exhaling hard through his nose while he tries to re-adjust. The feeling of you squeezing him is unbearable.“God. My fuckin’ God. You’re-“ Ghost cuts himself off, and you hear him curse. He pulls himself out slightly, then pushes back in. “Loosen- loosen up a little. Please.” You can’t even make sense of his pleading, not when his dick is so big inside your belly that you don’t have room for thoughts.

When he plays with your clit, rubbing tight circles with his thumb, you feel the pleasure grow and churn and make you shake. “I- you’re so big, I can’t,” You barely succeed at getting out.

But- he rolls his hips again, and your body opens for him bit by bit. “Please. That’s it, that’s it, pretty girl. Doll. Good girl,” He chants.

And what can you do but let out an answering moan, a strung-out, needy, desperate sound for words your brain doesn’t know?

Your nails are seconds away from tearing the plastic mattress cover. God, if only- if only your cunt wasn’t stuffed so full. “Ghost… fuck, you’re splitting me in two.” He bottoms out, and he’s so deep, like he’s molding you around him. After a moment, Ghost starts fucking you in earnest. 

“Holy shit, yes, right there-“ You gasp when his hard cock presses against your g-spot, your core shivering around him.

Ghost keeps at it with both hands on your hips to hold you steady. “I know. I know. I have you. I have you, love.” Your body trusts him to guide you through this - he’s sturdy and strong, and you feel every inch moving inside of you with his thrusts. “You’re so fuckin’ tight, Christ.” Sweat gathers at your hairline before tracking down your face to join the little pool of saliva below your slack, open mouth.

When he grinds into your hypersensitive, tender pussy, you shriek, his cock fucking the sounds out of your strained vocal cords. “Feels so good,” He groans in a shaken, undone voice.

Despite your fucked-out head, despite getting the best dick of your life, you find another ounce of spite you haven’t tapped into yet. “B-best you’ve ever, hngh, had?” You’re dripping around him, so soaked that the wet sounds of your cunt echo almost drown out your nonsensical, cock-drunk noises.

Ghost laughs before fucking you harder, determined to make you scream. “Yeah, best fuckin’ pussy. Best girl. Fuck. Fuck.” And just as he does that, you hear him lick his fingers before pressing them to your swollen clit.

Oh no. Oh no. Your pussy begins to tighten and twitch, and you didn’t plan for this, the pleasure sneaks up on you as you fight it, trying to keep your head above water and your body from… “I’m not gonna last, shit, you’re too good to me,” Ghost growls, relentlessly pounding into you.

Your stomach aches and screams with your orgasm, but you’re not ready yet, you need a second. You- he’s manipulating your body so keenly, you’ve never felt anything like it.

His hips snap into your ass, aiming viciously for your g-spot. “You’ll come again. Like this,” Ghost orders, then presses down on your back, so you drop your chest and cant your hips up.

“Fuck, I don’t know if I can,” You confess, each sound chopped up and breathless as he fucks you harder and harder.

He keeps his fingers on your clit at the same pressure, same speed, and it feels so good that you’re going to start sobbing at any second. Your knees are about to give out, and Ghost’s thrusts get wilder, messier.

“Come. Come for me.”

You’re screeching, crying, wailing as you come. Cunt spasming on his dick, your lungs empty and howling for relief. Your hips keep pushing back towards him to chase the high. Each wave is more painful, more powerful than the next, leaving you a twitching, helpless mess.

You come so fucking hard around him that you think you were meant for this. It’s the sweetest relief, like hot fire licking through your veins. It’s all Ghost and the cock he’s breaking you open on. Your pleasure slices into your gut like a sharpened knife, and your slick covers his pants, your thighs, the bed below you.

He shoves himself into you one last, impossibly deep, painfully good time, and Ghost comes with a long, drawn-out moan as your muscles milk him. There’s a burst of warmth - except your spasming, still-orgasming pussy is packed to the brim with his cock, so you feel his come drip all over your trembling, weak legs.

When he pulls out, he slides an arm around your waist before gently lowering you to the bed. Then Ghost lays on his side so he can draw your bare, sweat-soaked back to his chest, tucking you into him. And while you’re insensible, he grabs the balaclava and shoves it over his face.

You come back to yourself in increments, your head hazy and filled with small snapshots of tenderness.

Ghost adjusts the open buckle of his belt, so it doesn’t hurt you or irritate your sensitive skin. Your hand seeks one of his blindly until he wraps his fingers around yours. He stops your shivering by unzipping his hoodie and draping it over your naked body.

Your heart rate slows to something more reasonable, and as your eyes open, you see his tattoos. He’s got your head cushioned on his shoulder, so your hair has draped itself all over his arm.

You can see monochrome shadows dancing on his muscled, scarred skin, skulls, bombs, and dog tags, all of it peeking out.

Beautiful. Edgy, scary, beautiful. “I like them,” You say as you outline a lovingly-detailed sniper’s scope with the tip of your finger.

He doesn’t laugh, he’s recovering too, but you can hear the smile in his voice. “Not too shabby, eh?”

Barbed wire in that faded, blue-black color that tattoos turn with age, greyscale fire, and brimstone… “They suit you. And so does the mask.” Ghost exhales softly, air fanning out across your skin.

Then he shifts, tightens his arm around you, and brings you closer. “Thanks,” He murmurs after a long, substantial moment.

You try to banish the exhaustion creeping on you to the recesses of your mind. It makes your tongue slippery, makes the thoughts fall straight out of your head and into the world. “Yeah, no problem. Did you know that your eyelashes are blonde? I’ve been thinking about it since I first saw you.”

There are many other things you want to say, but you chew on the inside of your cheek and manage to stop them.

“Have you now?”

Aw, damn. So you did say that out loud, and he heard you. “Yeah. Yeah.” Each time you blink, you do it slower, like gravity is somehow increasing as time goes on, and you’re losing the power to resist it.

Where’d he go? “Gotta fuckin’… put some sheets on this bed. Don’t fall asleep on me just yet, love.” You poke your head up for a second and look around. No Ghost behind you, no arms cradling you.

Then you spot him by the door, shoving his keycard in his pocket. “Mmph.” You don’t lie down until he circles around and curls his palm around your cheek.

“I’ll be right back,” Ghost promises, and with his blessing, you roll over and close your eyes.

-

Tagging @abbiesxox @thedevillovesflowers @poohkie90 @averyyreads @lialacleaf @backupgal @kitty-satan1 @androgynoushellscape @555ilovecats @pinkwigonmytv @almightywdm @discowizard88 @castielsangelsx @jaymicrosoft @rengokulover96 @copiasratscheese @fluffysmiko @d3athtr4psworld @drugsaftersex @teenagegever2k22 @badame0224 @toilet-paper-headbands @itsrosebabe @bangirl134 @silverianni @nezukos-number1fan @deadpoetsandhoney

Idk how tag lists work so i guess just reply if u want to be added? and reply/shoot me a message if you want off!

Thank y'all so much for the support and love <3 <3 <3, the next chapter will be more smut, as well as the 141's reaction to your wedding!

One last thing - please do not ask a disabled author/person in general to disclose intimate details of their disability because you think their disability should limit them from doing something. that is very rude, and also very ableist. the only person entitled to my medical history is my doctor, and I've already had someone act entitled toward my medical history over this fic. i am super uncomfortable that i had to disclose anything at all, but i felt that if i didn't, they would pick a fight. my pinned post contains the comment i made on AO3 about this, including said details that I wish I didn't feel forced to tell people. I am not going to be responding to questions of that kind going forward. thank you.

(as always, dedicated to cuckoo <3)

[esha-isboogara]

perv!aizen

i will never stop !!!! aizen is a fine ass mf who’s perfect for these headcanons

—> grimmjow

✰aizen is his own warning, he’s way gross, duh-con, he’s manipulative, he’s weird yall

|| tag list: @stygianoir||

♡perv!aizen who does nothing to hide his creepy behavior. he is not ashamed of himself. why should he be ? he is the most powerful being in his world and no one is going to stop him from getting what he wants.

♡perv!aizen who invited you to the hot springs when he has free time. he makes sure you have no choice but to join him of the excursion

♡perv!aizen who manipulates you into anything he wants. he has complete control over you and he gets a high from it.

♡perv!aizen who sneaks into your room at night to fuck you. he tries not to do it too often or he’ll get addicted (as if he isn’t already) but he does this routine at least five times a month. he just loves watching you squirm and whine in pleasure from his cock. on days he feels gentle he’ll use his fingers or tongue.

♡perv!aizen who cums in your panties. and he’s not the least bit ashamed of it either. the thrill he gets from seeing you wearing the panties he came in ? oh my god it’s unmatched. to the point where he might need to step out for a bit to ..take care of some business.

♡perv!aizen who makes you dress up to clean up around his place. a cute little maid outfit with adorable cat ears to match. he could sit down for hours and watch you clean.

♡perv!aizen who doesn’t like it when anyone flirts with you. actually he doesn’t like anyone even looking at you. he makes sure everyone knows who you belong to.

♡perv!aizen who uses you as a pawn in his dealings. he’s a possessive son of a bitch but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t like to watch the fear in your eyes as gin feels you up and tells you about all the sick things he has planned. aizen usually stops it before it goes too far but who’s to say he won’t sit back and watch ?

♡perv!aizen who got a uniform specially made just for you it’s short, revealing and very impractical to fight in. it’s amusing to him though so don’t even think about going back to the long robes.

♡perv!aizen who forces you to come along with him when he travels. he likes have a dime piece on his arm- it’s a great conversation starter. plus he gets to keep an eye on you. he’d hate to come back to see you’ve opened your legs for someone else

[mangekyuou]

Hi there~

I just finished reading your rules and you're a UNI STUDENT? Lmao me too, I'm majoring in English literature 🙃 yeah i know it's an old-man choice 😭 but at least I enjoy it~

So can i request a NSFW alphabet for my boy Benn?

I don't see a lot of content for him and he's sooo sooooo handsomeee and attractive.

I hope you have a nice day~

⟡    ֺ   𓂂  nsfw alphabet  ,  benn beckman.

✸     cw(s)! . . .  nsfw. gn!reader. me being a beckman stan. not proofread. minors DNI.

✸     notes! . . .  hi !! that's so cool you're majoring in english literature !! i was always interested in literature, but i could just never sit down and read or try to analyze anything. it was never my strong suit lol. so kudos to you !! thank you for requesting !! <33

!! i would also like to say that i don't really do nsfw alphabets, but i have made an exception for this one and the other one in my drafts bcuz i didn't state it earlier. PLUS i'm a beckman and shanks stan lmaooo

A — AFTERCARE. [ what they’re like after sex. ]

aftercare is truly his favorite part. he takes his time carefully getting you all cleaned up and comfortable. benn is definitely a cuddlebug :>. he loves cuddling with you after sex. there's nothing better than laying down next to you, wrapping his strong arms around you, pulling you into his chest, kissing your head, and falling into the world of dreams.

B — BODY PART. [ their favorite body part of theirs and their partner’s. ]

he hasn't thought much about himself. he doesn't even really have an answer at first. but he thinks his arms are nice. all the more strength to pick you up and throw you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

benn loves ALL of you. don't ask him to pick a favorite part of you. he refuses to give you one answer, no matter how much you beg him. unless you start to pout, his ultimate weakness. he loves your thighs. he's a thigh and ass guy. nine times out of ten, you know he's in the mood just by how long he's touching your thighs

C — CUM. [ anything to do with cum. ]

he loves filling you to the brim with his cum, watching it slowly leak out of you only to use his thick fingers or his dick to stuff it back inside. all with a "be a good baby and hold it for me, yeah?"

D — DIRTY SECRET. [ self-explanatory. ]

nothing runs through his mind like you in a maid outfit since you wore one as punishment for losing a card game. the red-haired pirates are so damn cruel. the image has never left his head, and along with it came his dirty thoughts

the thought of you bending over to better reach a spot to dust, the short skirt of your tight uniform riding up to show off your ass. the thought of your purposely spilling something on him to get him out of his clothes. the thought of you on your knees in front of him, eagerly awaiting his next command, asking him how you may be of assistance. fuck he needs you in a maid outfit so bad

E — EXPERIENCE. [ how experience are they? do they know what they’re doing? ]

benn has been around the block many of times. he has plenty of experience. i wouldn't call him a hoe...but he's had quite a few lovers in the past. mostly one night stands. he knows what he's doing and how to pleasure you

F — FAVORITE POSITION. [ self-explanatory. ]

he's a pretty classic man. he loves the cowgirl(boy) position. there's nothing that makes him cum harder than you riding him to your heart's content. oh and please do wear a cowboy hat, treat him like cattle, call him a few names, he's putty in your hands. when he comes, put your hat over his pretty face

G — GOOFY. [ are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? ]

benn is very talkative in the bedroom. he's always talking, whether it's praising you or his favorite teasing you. hell, there are even some moments where he's so unserious. telling you about some stupid shit that happened on the red force that day, while kissing down your chest. or when he's settled deep inside of you, not moving, and will stop to have a full-on conversation. like what are you doing ??

H — HAIR. [ how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? ]

it's wild and grey. his pubes are a little wavy. he doesn't particularly care much about shaving. now if you ask him to trim up a little, he will definitely do so and will make it a habit

I — INTIMACY. [ how are they in the moment, the romantic aspect? ]

benn is a very romantic man. there is not a single time when he doesn't make you seem like the luckiest person in the world. he puts his ALL into loving and cherishing you. he takes his time with you. worshipping your body from head to toe, not missing an inch. bringing you to your high again and again, singing praises to you, how well you're doing, how much he loves you

J — JACK OFF. [ masturbation headcanon. ]

benn doesn't jack off as much as he did when he was younger. the times when he is in the mood, you are usually not too far and more than happy to help. however for the few times, you aren't around, he's sitting slouched in a chair in your shared room, his hair all over his face, he was anything but his usual calm and collected self. shallow breaths and low whispers of your name leave his lips, as he desperately tries to reach his high, imagining his hand as yours

K — KINK. [ one or more of their kinks. ]

he definitely has a praise kink. even before the two of you got together, you likely picked up on his praise kink. he loves the effect it has on you. role play, he's a freaky old man. as i said earlier, he loves the thought of you in a maid outfit, this definitely extends to other things. sexy secretary, sexy nurse, you name it. HE'S WAY INTO HIS ROLE. especially if you're taking a dominant role ?? WHEW

L — LOCATION. [ favorite places to do it. ]

he's not all that into public sex. does not want anyone else to see you, other than that one time. he prefers to keep your sexy times in the bedroom. nothing beats your bed

M — MOTIVATION. [ what turns them on, gets them going? ]

it doesn't take much to get him going. you could just wrap your arms around his waist from behind, and kiss up his shoulder, and he's all yours for the evening. or when you smack his ass and run down the hall. he swears he hates it, but who is he kidding? when he does catch up to you, you're in for it

N — NO. [ something they wouldn’t do, turn offs. ]

anything that could possibly hurt you. nope. never. nada. zilch. he can't do it. he couldn't do humiliation either. anything that is not making you feel amazing and beautiful, he's not doing

O — ORAL. [ preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc. ]

definitely a giver and is the fucking best at it. he prides himself on his ability to make you cum multiple times with his mouth alone. he could spend hours between your legs if you'd let him. hooking his strong arms around your legs, you're not going anywhere until he's had his fill. but you'll be a good baby and take it, won't you?

running your hands through his grey locks only encourages him further. your moans and breaths are a melody he'd never get tired of hearing

he does love seeing your pretty mouth wrapped around his cock. he loves when you take your time, licking up a stride up his shaft, the tip of your tongue circling the blushing red head of his tip, before slowly taking him into your mouth. eye contact the entire time !! he loves that shit

P — PACE. [ are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc. ]

benn is definitely more on the slow and sensual side. he wants you to feel him, every inch of him enter you as he fills you to the brim every time he thrusts into you. and he wants to feel all of you, as he closes his eyes and stuffs his face into your shoulder, alternating between leaving open-mouth kisses and love bites

Q — QUICKIE. [ their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc. ]

he's not a quickie guy. maybe when he was younger but quickies don't satisfy him anymore. it doesn't give him the chance to fuck you properly

R — RISK. [ are they game to experiment, do they take the risks, etc. ]

he'll experiment for you. he'll willing to try some things at least once if you'd like to try them. however, it's not likely to suggest something. he knows what he likes and what he doesn't, he's not sure that's really going to change at this point

S — STAMINA. [ how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last? ]

benn can go for a few rounds, which are not usually his plan. he usually plans for one long round. but the cuddle session after the first round a lot of the time turns into another around. he's not complaining though. give him a little smoke break and he's back at it

T — TOY. [ do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves? ]

he doesn't have a problem with toys, he just doesn't really use them. he prefers using his own equipment if you catch my drift. but he definitely doesn't mind using them on you if you asked

U — UNFAIR. [ how much they like to tease? ]

now he doesn't see it as teasing. but it's definitely teasing. his teasing is very playful. the way he just walks up to you at the poker table and whispers what he's going to do to you tonight if you win...and he expects you to sit there and be calm. you better win.

or when you sit in his lap and his large calloused hands caress your thighs, inching closer and closer to your core. he notices the way you take in a sharp breath, only to stop touching you altogether. he knows exactly what he's doing and what effect he has on you

V — VOLUME. [ how loud they are, what sounds they make. ]

benn is not quiet by any means. he's very talkative in the bedroom. always teasing you or giving you praise. he is an occasional groaner. groaning your name and swears into your ear

W — WILD CARD. [ random headcanon. ]

shanks has definitely watched you and benn fuck before. it was one time and it'll never happen again. now the captain of the red haired pirates did nothing wrong, at first. the next day, roo had asked shanks where he disappeared off to and he made a joke saying "watching the taming of a stubborn bull", earning a laugh from you. he is no longer allowed to watch

X — X-RAY. [ what’s going on under those clothes. ]

listen to me and listen to me well. definitely a shower, not a grower. 7-8 inches, slightly curved to the right and upwards. uncut. above average girth. a few veins, but there's one very prominent long vein that stretches from the underside of his dick all the way around to the top. slightly darker than the rest of his body BUT there are lighter patches of skin on and around his tip

Y — YEARNING. [ how high is their sex drive? ]

don't really see his drive being that high. definitely lower than average. but hey, he's not gonna say no to some sweet lovemaking.

Z — ZZZ. [ how quickly they fall asleep afterwards? ]

aftercare is literally his favorite part, so you bet it's going to be a while before he actually falls asleep. he has to get you all cleaned up and comfortable. finally, he pulls you in for cuddles. he waits until you're asleep before falling asleep himself

© MANGEKYUOU  —  do not copy, repost, or translate my works.

[comatosebunny09]

It goes something like this:

You’re a little bruised and battered. A little rough around the edges, yearning for the comfort of your bed. Maybe some brandy to chase away the ache and mask the throbbing between your ears, but…

Well, he’d sent for you. Of course he did. You’d barely stumbled back into Baldur’s Gate when he received word of your resurgence—gods damn his spies for occupying every nook and cranny of this city.

He could’ve at least granted you the luxury of a cold shower beforehand. Maybe even a change of clothes and the acrid sting of a beer at the back of your throat. You’ve just endured training from hell and deserve to push it all into the darkest reaches of your mind.

But nooo.

He wants to see you. Now. As if the stars will fall from the sky if you don’t show face. Given his might and overabundance of magic, he could very well make that happen.

So, here you stand. Before the towering, oakwood doors of the king’s quarters, a little worse for wear, a little over this shit.

Your uniform’s heavy and mottled with dirt. You’re still sweaty. Still achy, grinding your teeth and shifting your weight between your feet to take the pressure off them. Your exhaustion outweighs everything, burdensome on your shoulders like the buckles and leather ornaments dangling from your cloak.

You look and feel like utter shit, for lack of better terms. Not like it matters. He’s seen you at your worst and still beckoned you with a crooked smile and the curl of his elegant finger. And you always come running like the ever-faithful guard dog, exhaustion be damned.

The frigid metal of the door handles sends a shiver through your bones. Cold. Grounding. Much like him.

You heave a sigh. Your shoulders slump, and your head thuds softly against the door as you contemplate your life choices. Perhaps you were better off a street urchin, peddling stolen goods and picking pockets. At least then, you’d have the blessing of a night’s rest.

A few maids scuttle by, tickled by the pathetic scene you paint. In your peripheral, they wear omniscient grins as they pass you, and their giggles and whispers linger long after they turn the corner.

Like it’s some secret known to everyone else but you onwhy you’re here. Not in bed. Not licking your wounds and nursing your migraine with cheap booze.

Ugh.

You should be grateful. Not many have the privilege of being summoned to the king’s chamber. You’ve been here more times than you can count. More than the maids, his royal advisors.  

You’re typically around for business, standing in good form on the other side of the doors. Quiet, attentive, obedient, loyal. You have to be. Your life is literally bound to his. 

He’s your charge—your king. 

You’ve seen him bleed. Trance. Sweat. Cry on rare occasions. He has kissed you. Touched you. Written the sweetest words into the junction of your shoulder with a sweltering mouth. Fed on you. Promised the best of things as he nibbled on your lip.

You’ve held his hand. Ran cautious fingers through alabaster curls. Whispered words of admiration into the stilled air of his room. You’ve been his confidant more than his bodyguard. Experienced segments of him his subjects could only dream of witnessing.

You count to five in your head. Grip the handles, your shoulder blades tensing, nails digging into the meat of your palms. The doors creak open with some effort, granting you a cool gust of wind on your tired, fevered skin.

Whatever conversation was taking place before your grand entry peters, and there are suddenly two sets of eyes regarding you with different levels of interest as you stand, weary and bone-tired, in the entryway.

Gale’s lips quirk into an awkward smile, brows creasing with sympathy as he cautiously rounds the desk. “Erm, how was your training?”

“Shit,” you answer quickly. Flatly.

Gale blinks, utterly floored by your brazenness. Then again, you’ve never been one to filter yourself in the royal advisor’s presence. Doesn’t help that you’re exhausted and itching for a bath.

Astarion arches a humored brow. ‘Atta girl,’ reads the proud twinkle in his eye.

Gale chuckles uncomfortably, sensing the shift in the atmosphere. Like you two are poised to pounce on him. “Er, right. My apologies for your…hardships.”

You shrug. “I survived. Got my ass kicked around a few times, but I’m here.”

The clearing of a throat draws your attention to your king. You straighten. “Right. Well, as riveting as this conversation has been, I think it’s time we wrap this up.”

Gale casts Astarion a pensive look. “Your Majesty, there is still much to discuss. The peace treaties, the plans for reconstruction. We’ve staved this off long enough.”

Astarion scoffs, rolling his eyes. Hands thrown up in dramatic flair. “Well, stave it off longer,” he commands, ushering Gale towards the entry of his quarters. “I’ve more…pressing matters to attend to.”

You don’t miss how Astarion’s mouth twitches when his eyes skim over you. Feel it tingling beneath your skin.

Halfway to the door, Gale looks between you and the king, fully aware of the implications of that statement. “Right. By pressing, you mean someone will be pressed up against a—”

“Get out!”

[caffeinewitchcraft]

The Aftermath of the Chosen One

Summary: Dulce is a Hero. The people who made her one better hope they never see her again. TW: mentions of violence, ptsd, panic attacks

------------.

She is a villain when the adventure is over. It creeps up on her slowly. The shortened temper, the unnatural laughter, the darting eyes. She looks up at the corners of rooms for demon bats that don’t exist in this world and claws at her own flesh when she doesn’t find them.

Her companions come find her six months afterwards.

What does it look like, a prince and a knight and a mage walking into a McDonald’s? It’s 1 am, closing time, when she finds out.

“Dulce!” Prince Amor clanks through the fronts doors. He’s wearing the Royal Armor, the set that seems to glow from within with the Holy Light of his Blessed Ancestors. The crown on his head is as gold as his eyes. Everything about him looks fake under the artificial dining room lights, but he doesn’t notice. His golden eyes are locked on her. “At last, we’ve found you!”

She’s covered in a fine mist of oil, slashes of burns from the heat lamps marching up her arms. Her black pants are grey under a dusting of spilled flour and she knows her short, brown hair is frizzed up after her eight hour shift. She blinks at the three walking into the dining room and can’t find the words.

“I told you I’d find her,” Mage Kira says proudly. Her black dress looks like it belongs in a gothic version of the Nutcracker. She waves her flowering wand over her head. “Dulce’s magic has always been so distinctive, I knew it would be easy to find her in the Mundane World!”

Mundane world, Dulce thinks. That’s what they think of Earth. Mundane. Run-of-the-mill.

Not special.

Not worthy.

Dulce’s stomach cramps so badly that she sways on the spot. Why did she send the other girl home? Things would be so much easier if she had another human here.

Knight Cora frowns, taking everything in. “Friend Dulce. Are you…well?”

“What are you doing here?” Dulce croaks. She feels like she can hear the howling rabbits or the demon wolves she once fought surrounding the building. She taps her ears with the heels of her hands. The percussion of it clears her head better than any mindful meditation. “Alone?”

“Those unfortunate matters you helped us with have been cleared up,” Prince Amor says. He clanks right up to the register and grins down at Dulce. “You saved my kingdom. I thought it a good idea to come share thanks once again.”

Thanks? Thanks? She says, “You couldn’t have gotten permission to come through the portal.” The portal is run by wizards and wizards are notoriously strict about who comes and goes through the Destiny Portal.

“We did,” Knight Cora says. She at least has had the good sense to try and find mundane clothes. Her soft, linen shirt is slightly less offensive to Dulce’s tired eyes than Prince Amor’s gleaming armor. “A lot of things had to align for the timing to be right, but such is the nature of magic.” She leans forward. “Dulce, I’m familiar with these establishments. Do you…work here?”

Mage Kira gasps and her head whips around. “No, surely not! Here? Work? A Hero works here?”

And that grates. Dulce feels her shock like nails down her spine. “Why is that so hard to believe?”

“I’ve seen you skin a hydra with nothing but a fruit knife,” Knight Cora says. She waves a hand around the room. “This is akin to working as a tavern maid.”

Prince Amor rocks back on his heels. “Surely not! Why that’s unacceptable—”

“Why?” Dulce feels disconnected from her body. “Why? Why is this unacceptable?”

Knight Cora waves her hands at Dulce. “You’re a warrior! A Hero! Surely you must know that you deserve better than this?”

Better? Dulce shakes her head. “Leave.” Her throat feels dry. The phantom howls of demons baying for her blood rings in her ears. “Leave, out, get out--!”

The trio exclaim as she rushes around the counter towards them. For a moment, Dulce forgets that she’s in her work uniform, a black apron tied around her waist rather than a sword. She’s so angry that she imagines herself in full armor, her hair bound along the nape of her neck, her hand reaching for her blade—

Knight Cora catches Dulce’s empty hand before she can strike Prince Amor.

“I killed people for you,” Dulce says. The warmth of Knight Cora’s hand against her wrist is more shocking than the strength behind her grip. Dulce’s adventure left her changed forever in more ways than one. The strength that world blessed her with is another reason she no longer fits in here. “Is killing a more noble profession? Is murder better than serving food?”

“They were demons!” Prince Amor looks at Dulce’s fist caught in Knight Cora’s grip and frowns. “Friend Dulce, are you unwell?”

“Maybe she’s possessed,” Mage Kira says. She raises her wand and the flowers tied to the tip glow. “A simple diagnostic spell should—”

Dulce rips away from Knight Cora with a snarl.  “Do not cast magic on me. I do not give you permission.”

Prince Amor raises his hands. “It is only to ascertain your state—”

“I’m not possessed!” Dulce laughs and it’s a bitter sound. She looks between these three, these three who guided her through their world and put her into battle again and again. She looks at them and is back there, sword dropping from her hand as the demons screamed. “I want you to leave. It was supposed to be over when I killed the Demon King for you. It was supposed to be over.”

It's so unfair. The person she’s become—she became this person for them. Because of them. They told her their fight was just. They told her she was saving them. They told her so many things. She believed them.

Damn her, she believed them.

“You…didn’t want to see us again?” Knight Cora asks. Her face is pale and her eyes wide. She stretches out a hand to Dulce and then retracts it, hurt. “After all we went through, after the adventures we shared, after—” She wavers, unable to speak for a moment. When she recovers, she whispers, “Dulce, we’re family.”

“We’re not family,” Dulce spits. She’s shaking. With rage? With fear? With the memory of the Demon King’s blood hot on her hands? “The worst thing I’ve ever done, I did for you three. The blood on my hands—I shouldn’t have done it. I shouldn’t have done it.”

And there it is. The awful truth. She lets the words shake her to her bones. I shouldn’t have done it. It wasn’t her world, her fight, her place. She took a weapon into her hands and she didn’t get all the facts before she acted. She was threatened, yes. They were her only way back home. But she still acted.

And now the blood is on her hands.

“I will never be the same,” Dulce says. She means that she is less than. That she is broken. That she is an abomination. “I feel as though I can’t live with what I’ve done.”

“The burdens we all bear from our battle—” Mage Kira starts to say only to fall silent as Dulce laughs.

“It wasn’t my world!” Dulce doesn’t know how to describe the horror of that. “I don’t know who I am anymore. A Hero? No, because I didn’t save anyone, did I? I just filled your country’s pockets with money and destroyed homes. I—I am a monster because of it. Because of you.”

“You save my kingdom,” Prince Amor says. His jaw clenches and unclenches. “You claim to carry evils, but that is not true. You did what was right. You saved—”

“The children cried when I killed their king,” Dulce says. That moment is as clear to her now as the day it happened. The skies so clear and blue overhead. A sword in her hand. A body at her feet. The howls – no, the wails – of a people devastated by the death of their ruler. “The magic crumbled. The castle fell apart around their ears.” She turns on the Prince. “Your kingdom was saved? But what of theirs?”

“They were demons. We told you, the demonic are parasites—"

“Where could the dryads go when you burned their forests?” She advances on them again and, this time, Knight Cora does not stop her. She steps. They step back. “Where could the nymphs go when you siphoned their lakes? Where could the dwarves go when you stole their mines?”

“It was for the prosperity of the kingdom—”

“IT WAS FOR NOTHING!” Dulce doesn’t flinch when a light shatters above their heads. Her power claws at her skin, desperate to be used. The magic suppressor around her ankle heats in warning. “You made me a monster for nothing. For greed and disgusting self-indulgence. You falsified a prophecy for sport and then dare show up here and call me a Hero?”

Mage Kira steps in front of the other two, her eyes alight with power. “Dulce, I don’t know who has corrupted you, but we’re your friends! Stop this magic at once.”

“I can’t use magic here,” Dulce says. She lifts the leg of her khakis to show the anklet. “The Magic Tower bound me.”  She bares her teeth as the remaining lights tremble under the weight of her aura. “No need to be afraid.”

“Why would they do that?” Mage Kira asks. She seems to forget the situation entirely, the horror of bound magic overwhelming her. “You’re a Chosen One, a Hero—”

“I wasn’t supposed to ever see you again,” Dulce says. She barely recognizes her own voice. Before when she said these words, she sounded wounded. Scared. Now she sounds mocking. Contemptuous. “They promised me it was over. That you would never come through the Portal of Destiny again.” Her lip curls. “And neither would I.”

What does it look like when a prince, a mage, and a knight walk into a McDonalds? What does it look like when they meet a sister, a comrade, a Hero? What does it look like when they realize not everyone believes their narrative, their lies, their convenient untruths?

Prince Amor lays a hand on his sword. “I consider you a friend, Dulce. We traveled together and fought together. I know not who has poisoned your mind against us, but we shall save you.” He glances at the other two through his peripherals. “We must take her back to our world. Our healers can—”

“I can’t go with you.”

Knight Cora reaches out a hand towards her as if offering salvation. “Dulce, the prince is right. The feelings you’re having are unnatural. You may feel that you can’t come with us, but you must.”

“Not won’t.” Dulce jabs a finger to her anklet. “Can’t.”

“The wizards have barred you from the Destiny Portal?” Mage Kira is the first to realize what she means. “But they must have known that you’ve been corrupted—”

“I tried to go back to kill you,” she tells Prince Amor. She lets the confession ring in the silence for a long, long moment. “That’s why they prevented me from returning. Because once I realized what you had done to me, to those poor people, I tried to go back to slit your throats like I should have when you first called me Hero.”

The three of them stare at her, unable or unwilling to understand. She feels her magic swirling faster and faster inside of her chest. Outside the restaurant, a car alarm blares. The air trembles. A table behind Knight Cora tips over, causing all three of them to jump.

Dulce grits her teeth and wills her magic to behave.

“You Chose me,” Dulce says. She sneers the word. Chose. “You used me for evil. You destroyed me with it. I came back from your world broken. So I decided to atone with your deaths. The wizards stopped me. They promised me that it was over. They promised me that I didn’t need to atone for what the Prophecy made me do. Then, when they realized I didn’t believe them, they bound me. To protect you.”

She hears the demons screaming louder and louder. There’s pressure building in her head. The worst thing she’s ever done, she did for them. She did it on a sunny day. She did it in the time it takes her to flip a burger. And they dare come here and tell her she deserves better.

Thunder rumbles in the distance.

“Dulce,” Prince Amor finally says. No longer Friend Dulce. Only her name and a growing horror in his eyes. “Dulce, no. Someone had whispered these evils in your ear. You—surely not—”

“Leave,” Dulce says. This time her voice rings with magic. A command. “The laws in my mundane world are different than you know. The wizards have stopped me from harming you in your world. Mine won’t stop me.”

Knight Cora opens her mouth just as lightning crashes outside. She casts a fearful look out the windows and back to Dulce. She says, “We did nothing to you.”

“You did everything to me,” Dulce says. She points to the door. “Leave.”

Thunder shakes the building.

“I’ll save you,” Prince Amor blurts out. The two women pull and push him towards the door. He twists as he shouts, “Whatever sorcery this is, we will save you from it!”

The wind howls through the doors when Knight Cora throws them open. Rain pounds down, slamming into the street with real force. Mage Kira throws a magical shield over them all, but it doesn’t keep them dry. The rain falls through the shield as if it’s not even there.

Stay safe, Dulce mouths at her. Mage Kira is the only one who looks truly afraid before they dart away into the night.

Dulce stands in the same spot and breathes. She stares at the walls and the tables and the chairs until she forgets what it looks like when a knight, a prince, and a mage walk into a McDonalds. She’s here. She’s not there.

With any luck, they make it back through the Portal of Destiny before she remembers that they’re here too.

Dulce goes to get a broom. The glass from the shattered light won’t sweep itself.

-----------

A little bit of a darker story for y’all this week. I’ve been struggling with some of what Dulce’s been struggling with lately and it was so cathartic to write a character who is angry and stays angry. Who looks at the people who didn’t help her at her darkest point - who exacerbated her darkest point in some ways -  and tells them to run. It’s a bit of a darker story, for sure, but nonetheless one I feel closely connected to in a lot of ways.

If you’d like to support my writing, please consider checking out my Patreon (X). I post there a full week before I post stories here and include 1 extra, patreon-exclusive story per month.

Next week’s story comes from my Narrative Town (X) universe:

Summary: It's a Rule not to get involved in grown-up stories. But when your parents' lives are in danger, even you will break a Rule.

It’s up on Patreon now and will be here next week :)

Thanks for reading!

[mackjlee9]

Hasegawa Langa x Top!Male!Reader [Smut]

Requested by Kendall_leonard on Wattpad.

Warning; classroom sex, creampie, rimming, dumbification, feminization, use of the word pussy.

Masterlist.

Oh, my hand is better now, my fingers are still a little numb but the pain is gone :)

With the annual culture festival coming up, every class was busy selecting what they were going to do. (M/n)'s class wasn't an exception. But their theme was already chosen.

They'll be doing a play, what it was going to be had yet to be discussed. He didn't care much about it, as long as he doesn't have to play a major role in it. He was more interested in whatever Langa's class was going to be doing.

At the end of the day, the trio, Langa, Reki, and he walked together on their way home, and (h/c) haired male decided to ask them what they'll be doing for their class.

"So... what is your class' theme for the festival?" Both males next to him blushed and avoided looking him in the eyes. (M/n) looked left at Reki and right at Langa, both had the same expression on their faces and were stuttering.

"A... c-café...?" Reki ended up saying with a shaky voice, to which Langa just nodded in agreement, completely silent. (M/n) stated at them, but just shrugged and changed the subject.

He was going to check their café after the play was over.

///////

The following day, the first hour of the morning, (M/n) took his place as class rep, and walked to the front, he wrote the name of the play they were going to act on and listed down the characters.

The Little Mermaid, read on the board.

"Okay, we have to pick the princess... who's gonna be Ariel? Any suggestions?" None of the girls raised their hands, and instead, some boys gave suggestions as to who it could be.

Like that, every character was picked. And unfortunately, (M/n) got the role of Prince Eric.

Well, they had almost a month to prepare for it.

//////

Weeks went by flying, and it was already the day of the festival. His class got dressed and ready, as relaxed as they could, and started their play.

He didn't see Langa or Reki in the audience, which meant they were busy with his café, so as they were done, he changed into his gym uniform and ran towards Langa's class. There was quite a line when he got there, but he patiently waited.

When he reached the door, he realized two things. One, the butler at the entrance was a girl, and two, the sign above the door said 'Crossdressing Maid Café'. Well, that explained why Langa and Reki were so flustered about telling him what their class was gonna do.

He entered the room, and was guided to an empty table, he looked around trying to find a light-blue-haired boyfriend, or at least his redheaded best friend, but they were nowhere in sight.

He sighed, and picked up the menu, reading over and deciding what to pick.

"H-hello, master... I-I'll be your designated m-maid..." a quiet voice he knew quite well reached his ears, and he looked up.

His breath hitched, his stomach tingling and goosebumps showing on his skin when a shiver ran down his spine.

The maid dress Langa was wearing was a little short for him since he was one of the tallest in his class, the headpiece he had on made him look even better, and (M/n) was having a hard time holding back.

"M-master...?" Langa's shy voice made him snap out of his daydreaming state, and he let out a nervous chuckle. "What are you go-gonna order?"

"Uh... I don't know, whatever is fine, I guess." Langa just nodded, knowing exactly what he was gonna give to his boyfriend, and he turned around with a small smile.

The next ten minutes he spent there, (M/n)'s eyes couldn't help but follow Langa everywhere he went, frowning at the squeals of the girls from other classes whenever he walked by. But, he already had to leave the classroom, but before that, he called Langa over and made the male lean over enough for him to whisper something in his ear.

"I'll be waiting for you until your break starts, okay?" Langa blushed but nodded and he bowed towards (M/n) as a goodbye.

The (h/c) haired male waited right outside Langa's classroom, standing next to a window as he watched people walk by him, he only waited for almost ten minutes, and thankfully, he saw Langa walking out still wearing his maid.

"Sorry, I have to go back in fifteen minutes, so they didn't let me change," he whined looking down after he stopped in front of (M/n).

Even if they didn't have much time left (M/n) was thankful that Langa didn't change clothes, he had been feeling quite... horny for the past twenty minutes, so he knew it'll just take a few minutes.

He smirked and held Langa's hand, rushing down the hall and to his classroom. On the way, he felt inside his uniform pocket and he cheered to himself when he felt the keys there.

(M/n) dragged Langa inside and closed the door behind him, locking it and making sure the other door was also closed, it was, so he went back to Langa who walked to his desk and sat on it. The light-blue-haired male stared at him with an innocent look in his eyes, but it turned into a nervous one when he noticed the lustful look in his (e/c) eyes.

"(M/n), what-?" Langa couldn't finish his sentence, (M/n) slipped a hand under his thigh and lifted it to his waist, holding him by the back of his neck as he leaned down. Langa had to place both hands behind him to prevent falling off, and the next thing he felt was (M/n)'s lips on his, soon pushing his warm tongue in.

Langa couldn't help but whimper at the intense feeling (M/n)'s kiss sent through his mind and body.

"I'm sorry, Langa, but... fuck, you look so good in that outfit," he muttered against the male's lips, his hand reaching for his underwear and pulling it off his body. Langa was left gasping on the desk, his legs spread open, one of them bent on the desk, exposing his half-hard cock and twitching entrance.

Kneeling on the ground, (M/n) gripped tightly onto Langa's thighs, dragging him closer to the edge of the desk and going down between his milky thighs.

"Try not to be too loud, or we'll get caught," he muttered with a smirk before putting his tongue to work. He licked all around his rim, teasing him with just the tip of his tongue. Langa pressed his hand over his mouth, eyes gathering tears at such a light stimulation. He let out whimpers, his legs shaking as they struggled to stay spread open, but the urge to wrap them around (M/n)'s head was too strong, and the moment his tongue was inside him, his light-blue eyes rolled into the back of his head, he moved his hand away to grip tightly onto the desk as he closed his twitching legs around (M/n)'s head.

(M/n) looked up, groaning at the mess he made of Langa when he barely even did anything to him. His cum dripped down his thighs, and backing away to take a breath, (M/n) licked it off his skin before it fell on the floor.

Standing up, (M/n) held Langa's waist and brought him closer to his body, making him get off the desk, keeping a hand behind him on the desk while the other one reached to hold onto (M/n)'s shoulder.

"Turn around," he muttered against Langa's lips, the male nodding and slowly turning around, whimpering when he felt (M/n)'s erection pressing against his ass. He lifted Langa's skirt, caressing the pale skin of his hips, holding him a little bit tighter as he started humping him, clenching his jaw when the thought of fucking Langa while in a maid outfit crossed his mind, "Fuck, I can't hold back any longer..."

Hurrying to take his erection out, he pressed the wet tip against Langa's entrance, the male biting his lip as he felt (M/n)'s cock entering him.

Langa's legs trembled, his eyes rolling into the back of his head, his hands gripping tightly onto the desk, shivers running down his spine when he heard (M/n)'s satisfied groans, feeling every inch of his throbbing cock stretching his insides.

"Look at you, princess, taking my cock in your tight pussy," biting his bottom, Langa let out a choked moan when (M/n) moved his hips, thrusting deep inside him, his cock pulsing as it started leaking pre-cum, and for a split second, he remembered that he was wearing clothes that didn't belong to him.

"W-wait, the maid is go-gonna get... dirty~" he whispered in between whines while glancing back with glossy eyes, (M/n) slowed down the rhythm of his thrusts, and smirked, leaning closer to Langa's ear.

"Well, you're gonna have to hold it up, princess," (M/n) reached the front part of the skirt and held it up with his index and thumb, waiting for Langa to do it instead. The blue-haired male hesitated for a moment before grabbing it with both hands, leaving his red cock in plain sight, "Good girl~"

Langa let out a short but loud moan after those words, his body being held tightly by (M/n) who had started pounding his warm insides, stretching his walls, and hitting his prostate with every move. Langa's mouth was wide open, ragged breaths getting out of him, his eyes clouded with pleasure and crossing momentarily before rolling into the back of his head yet again.

It was so good, (M/n) knew exactly how to fuck him to make his knees weak, how to make him cum untouched, and how to make him moan like a whore, but sometimes, when his mind was too dumb on pleasure, he was unable to say a word, only heavy panting left his mouth as his tongue slightly poked out.

He was already so close to cumming, and his break was about to be over, "(M/n)- please-" moaning next to his ear, (M/n) took a deep breath, his fingers gripping tight on Langa's hips, his pale skin was surely gonna have bruises in a couple of hours, but it's not like any of the really cared about that.

"I know, I'm... gonna cum too, baby," clenching his jaw, (M/n) sped up his thrusts as they were getting sloppier by the second, a deep groan resonated in his chest when he came, Langa let out a high-pitched whine as his cum spurted out of his cock.

They took a few deep breaths to calm themselves before (M/n) pulled out, and Langa felt his cum slowly dripping out of his gaping hole.

"Is the maid dirty?" Langa looked down and checked the skirt before shaking his head no in response, quietly whining when he realized what did get dirty.

"But... I dirtied your desk..."

[p5x-theories]

Info on Future Phantom Thieves

(as of the third beta; last updated 1/24/24!)

There are currently several known future Phantom Thieves, and a few other things that may either be related to one of them, or tied to yet another future thief.

The first up is Riko Tanemura, also known by the codename Wind.

She’s featured in promo art with the main cast, and she’s present as a silhouette in the second and third betas' title screens along with Wonder, Cattle, Closer, and Soy, so she’ll likely be the next teammate to join in the game’s story.

In all three betas, we see her at school, as a student who mainly appears in scenes to remind other students of the rules. She and Motoha seem to be at least a bit familiar with each other. She was also listed as a Confidant in the first beta (but it was locked), and was present in photo mode in the third beta. The third beta trailer shows her talking to Wonder in a scene that has not yet been present in any beta.

According to datamining, she has battle voice lines indicating she'll be a navigator teammate with the Persona Chiyome, who has been found in the files:

Her Japanese voice actress is Atsumi Tanezaki.

The next one’s full name is currently unknown (though her keychain says “Aran”, so that may be part of her name), but she appears in a scene in the second and third betas, and her codename in the files is Polter.

While no visual evidence of her future thief outfit exists in the files, she matches the naming convention used for all known Phantom Thief characters, both story and Phantom Idols, so it’s very likely she will join the team in some capacity.

In the betas, she appears as screenshotted above- riding on the train at the same time as Wonder, Motoha, and Cattle, they unknowingly catch her attention, and she digs around in her bag for her sketchbook as the train is stopped. However, when she looks back, she’s confused to find they’ve vanished into thin air (as they used the MetaNav to enter Mementos to get off the train).

She appears to wear a school uniform underneath her purple jacket, and her bag has the Kiga High School emblem on it, so she’s almost certainly a high school student attending there.

The third one’s name is also partially unknown, though some gossiping girls on the train refer to him as “Ikenami-kun”, so his last name is likely Ikenami. His codename in the files is Enco, and he appears very briefly towards the beginning of the second and third betas.

Similarly to Polter, his 3D model in the files matches the Phantom Thief naming convention, so it’s likely he will join the team in some capacity as well.

In the second and third betas, he rides the same train that Wonder is taking to school one morning. Wonder overhears two gossiping Kokatsu girls refer to Enco as a “good-looking guy”, then they recognize his uniform as being Kiga High’s, and exclaim he must be Ikenami-kun (implying he has some kind of reputation to be recognized for). He doesn’t visibly react to their gossip in any way, and is only shown reading his book for the entire scene.

Besides being a Kiga High student, his 3D model has a pin with a II on it, so he’s most likely specifically a second year.

This one's name is completely unconfirmed, though her apparent codename in the files is Liben, and she appears briefly in the third beta. Her Japanese name is written as 梨本成瑠海, which may be read as Narumi Nashimoto, among other possibilities.

She can be found during one of Wonder's Confidant events with Merope. She stands outside a maid cafe in Akihabara, and offers them flyers for the cafe. Later, Merope's Rank 11 event where they actually enter the maid cafe, after Merope has fully researched cafe etiquette, she is their server, and she and Merope play off of each other. Eventually Merope orders enough food that she gives her a special coupon to take pictures with her.

After a moment, she receives a phone call, and has to step away for a moment. The player overhears part of the conversation- she calls the person on the other end her older sister, and tells her there is bento from her part-time job in the fridge. Merope and Wonder have a conversation about going to the photoshoot another time, though I haven't found gameplay of this event.

Like with Polter and Enco, her 3D model in the files matches the Phantom Thief naming convention, so it’s likely she will join the team in some capacity.

Even less present in the actual game so far is an unnamed Kokatsu student with the files codename Wuhexi. He has portraits and a 3D model in the third beta, but has not been found in-game anywhere.

As with the others, his 3D model in the files matches the Phantom Thief naming convention.

Finally, there is also this character with the files codename Jitianzhudai, which seems to be her Chinese name rather than a codename. Her Japanese name is written as 吉田珠代, which has been translated as Tamayo Yoshida (written the same way as Toranosuke Yoshida's last name), though this name is unconfirmed and there are particularly a lot of possibilities for her last name.

She appears in the third beta during ranks 9 and 10 of Motoha's Confidant, having known Motoha in the past when they played baseball together as kids, and now being part of a high school girls' baseball team. She wants Motoha to join her team, seeing Motoha as her "eternal rival" even as Motoha's gotten rusty from not playing baseball for so long, and hopes to eventually revive women's professional baseball.

Like the above characters, her 3D model in the files matches the Phantom Thief naming convention, even if it seems to use her name rather than a codename.

Other possible aspects related to future Phantom Thieves include the “Pegasus” Persona in the files and an unfamiliar name.

Besides the battle portrait above, Pegasus has a 3D model as well. There’s no indication of whose Persona Pegasus is, however. It could be any of the potential thieves listed above, or someone else entirely.

The unfamiliar Japanese name in the files, 梅洛普, could likewise be either the name of a future teammate, or just someone Wonder receives text messages from.

[kaliemary]

Niffty the cleaning demon!

I was not expecting to finish her so fast, consedering the fact that Alastor was a pain in the ass.

Okay for her, I went for a more more brown and red for her pallet and Honestly it look perfect for her, the hair I inspired it by the hairstyles in the 20's/30's (since I changed her death date to the same as Alastor, 1933) but I put a bit of cuteness to it, her side bangs were inspired by the Angel dust redesign by lovesart23.

for her form I went for a bug, not any bug in particular but If she would be a real bug would be 100% a praying mantis.

She is almost like original niffy personality wise but she more "sane" and can think of other things besides murder.

I make niffty height be almost the same as vaggie, she just a little shorter, since I didn't want o maker her extremly childish like, just out of the box.

She have 4 arms for multi-tasking, just like when she was alive, since well she's the only maid for that woundbungus hotel.

because of the way she died, kiling herself eating cleaning product, her abdomen and inside of her tail? is very soft, it has this lava lamp effect (almost like beelzebub from HB) and is her greatest weakness, but luckly she is fast enough to at least come alive from a fight.

also she has a venom in both her saliva and in the end of her tail and that is what is always coming out of her mouth.

the eyes on her tiara are actually eyes attached to it and it hurts when someone take them by force or something happen and they are always drying up so she always carrys a eyedrop.

in her casual wear I tried to make the pallet close to the original withou making it extremely saturaded.

her work uniform is just one of her dark dresses, since I don't see her using black just some color dark enough, the fist part of the appron is to represent the morningstar's symbol, a apple with three seed each one representing charlie, lucifer and lilith.

(SPOILER for the fic ahead) he died when she and Alastor had 39 years and they are twin brothers.

Ok enough about her design, lets go to the exicinting part, her storie.

!!WARNING: GORE, BLOOD (obviously), decpiction of self hatred, manipulation!!

when alive Niffty or better Nora was married to a detective, a hard-working one, she was happy at least even if her husband was always in some kind of trouble or working or both.

but as times goes on she noticed how her friends and neighbours were happy because of their children, she always have the dream of being a mother but unfortunately she coun't get pregnant by any means they tried EVERTHING but it never worked, her husband at one point suggested they adopt but she refuse to belive that she coun't be a mother but everyone could.

she could not accept it, but one day when she was cleaning the dishes as always her twin-brother Alastor, it was not strange since they were basically attached to the hip, but this time her brother was acting a little strange, his sweet smile now a nervous one, his usual casual and calm posture now a little hunched over, he was acting almost like a deer that was ruining from a hunter. and of course she would ask about it:

"Are you okay? you seem a little... err..." she asked while Alastor passed trought the door and inside her home.

Alastor look at the front windows and shut them "Nervous?"

"this would be a understanment" Niffty said with a tick of her tounge at the end.

"I need to ask you something"

Niffty walk closer to him "Of course, anything for my little brother" she gave him a little hug while messing a little with his hair, even if they were the same height and age, she always treated him like a younger brother just to spite him.

sighing a now nervous-wreck Alastor "this is not the right time for your jokes Nora"

Niffty let go of him, holding his shoulders "what do you need?"

and then that when Alastor started explaining to her that he found a voodo book were he could do anything! with it, control people like little puppets, distort his voice and on and on, Niffty of course didn't belive her brother about this book, he always was attraced to this type of thing and sometimes so much that he could spent months talking about a new thing he found about magic, Niffty never belive him but she was always there to support him, but this time she belived that her brother got absolutely isane, just look at his state!

body hunched over, a uneving smile while speak that reminded her of his smile when he speak about this topic but more... afraid almost like at any moment something will show up and-

"Anyway I need you to sabbotage your husband's case"

"why? I mean is not like you killed someone and burried them in your garden!" she laughed, a strained one to try and cheer him up! but he didn't laugh, he just stared at her and a moment passes with neither of them speaking just staring at each other.

"did you?"

he didn't needed to respond for her to understand that her own brother killed someone, her own fucking brother! of all people!

"calm down I won't kill you" Alastor reassured her when noticing her now pinched brows while understanding that him did something so terrible to a person.

"Why? why I FUCKING SHOULD HE-"

"I cou- can make you have a child" Alastor cut her off, licking his lips he continued "with this power I can make everything you and I want to come true, of course this comes with a prize, but either way if you help me you could finally have the family you always wanted."

Niffty rubs her facer with her hands while trying to drink it all up, if she help Alastor she could finally have the perfect family, all her problems would be gone! her friends and neighours coun't gossip about how wortless she was as a wife and her husband would love her even more!

Looking at Alastor she see terror but also hope with his words, even if she didn't belived in magic she coun't lose this precious chance.

"what I need to do?"

Months passed by with a lot of people disapiring, Alastor thing of course, while Niffy's husband is trying to solve this case, he is a mess but it was only temporary, of course making a baby out of magic would be difficult so she only did what was necessary for her husband not discover that the person comitting this crimes was his brother-in-law and ruin their chance of being a family.

because her husband was so ungluffed by this case he ocasonally would bring some documents that said about the case itself, even if the most people Alastor killed was still disappered some of them have at least their bodies or at least part of them, with each time alastor killed and gained more power more and more wreckless he was becoming, with each victim having at best a grossome death, changing the papers with ones that have wrong information, destroying other and telling her husband that he did not bring that document to their house by forgetting at the police station, she always acted how someone would be afraid at being the next victim, since well she is the perfect one.

  but one day her husband, half covered in blood, not sure if his or from another person or both confronted her about the documents, demanding to know why she is doing this when she knows that this a serious case and one that would make them have a better life. While arguing Niffty acidentally spills out that Alastor is the killer and that he just "helping them in a difficult time" her husband is mad because he can't understand that she's only doing this for them! that Alastor is helping them archive their dream of having a family but he didn't understand that.

Her husband just sighs "I know, but I was hoping fucking hoping that MY OWN WIFE woun't help her INSANE BROTHER AND THAT'S WAS JUST MY MIND FUCKING WITH ME!!" he walks closer to her "but no" he laugh in this part "all this time you knew, you just din't knew, you HELPED HER FUCKING MURDERER OF A BROTHER while I was going nuts trying to kept us both SAFE"

at this moment he's pratically extremly closer to her, threatining, scared Niffy picks the knife that she was using to do the dinner and stabs him one time, two time, three, four... at this point she dosen't know, trapped in this cyclic state of stabing her husb- a idiot's dead body, when finally she stops, she goes to the cabinet with her face, dress and kitchen floor full of blood bu she didn't care, she picked all cleaning products and start chungin'it down her throat if she's not gonna have a happy family then she is not supposed to be even alive anymore.

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

A/n: this is my first time making a fic, so is not the best but I hope it get the point across, for the other character for the re-write I will try and make the same thing, explain their design and after that their backstory, for husk I will not gonna do his life backstory just saying what he did to be in hell and all that but the main thing will be his overlord backstory, in case someone want to see the re-write It's not needed seeing ALL backstory from the characters.

[piratefishmama]

Live to Serve (You)

Edward Munson, the young lord of Forest Hills, a beautiful little cluster of homesteads built within a man-made clearing in the woods, home to a small but tight knit community of folks, wished he could say the skies were dark when he last saw his little village amidst the woods. He wished he could claim the sun had hidden away, that the clouds had cried tears for his departure when he was taken by the Kings’ men.

But they weren’t crying.

The sun shone as it ever did in those warm summer days, the winds a mere gentle caress on his soft cheeks still full of youthful plump, the skies held no tears for him as his father, the Lord of Munson Manor, sold him away to pay his debts. Which debts, Edward didn’t know, he was still just a boy of seven, the maids often claimed him barely out of leading strings, although he knew that was exaggerating things. He could walk, he could talk, sure his attention sometimes drifted to places it wasn’t supposed to go but he could read, he could write, his tutors claimed him to be a gifted storyteller, fantastical in his depictions of possible faraway lands, of dragons and fae, his big beautiful brown eyes would alight in wonder whenever merchant’s brought their pretty wares -mostly beaded jewellery but sometimes silvers, and golds, books, and dyed cloth- through the village along the Kings Road toward the Great City of Hawkins where the Royal Family resided.

Now he was the wares.

Taken by soldiers bearing the royal crest in beautiful decorative golden filigree across their chest plates. Taken during the day, where the people who’d known him, the ladies who’d cooed over his youthful plump cheeks and braided his pretty brown curls with flowers for him to keep it out of his face whenever he escaped the Manors maids to play with the local children along the treeline, shed tears in place of the clouds for him, they’d always been so quick to snag him to take the flowers out before he returned home.

He always looked so pretty in flowers but his father simply wouldn’t have approved of such decorations.

He figured he wouldn’t be wearing flowers again as the carriage took him away. At least someone was crying for him. He was still young, while his mother was no more, passed during childbirth, his father had proclaimed himself virile enough to make another as he was taken away.

Another heir, someone else who’d live his life, in his home, his room, as if he’d never existed.

He didn’t want to say he was scared, boys weren’t supposed to be scared of anything his father would say, and while the soldiers weren’t unkind in how they handled him, guiding him with gentle gloved hands into the carriage, he was scared.

The city was half a day’s ride. The fear didn’t lessen as they neared it. His in-carriage escort was a broad man, not wearing the same armours as the other soldiers but his clothes were embellished with the royal crest, not just simple leathers, a uniform, but not armour. He had a higher rank than the normal soldiers. “You’re to be serving in the palace” his escort explained as they neared the gated entrance to the city, manned by soldiers at all times.

What did one say to that? Serving. He’d never served before. He was a Lord! He was the one who was usually served. Not that he was spoiled or anything but... how did one serve? Maybe he should have paid more attention to the people who worked at the Manor instead of trying to escape them all the time.

“...What if I get it wrong?”

“I’d suggest you learn quickly, so that needn’t be a concern.” Oh. He fell silent again, hands in his lap, digits fiddling with digits. He didn’t have his clothes, his jewellery, he had nothing but the clothes on his back and they weren’t exactly his fineries, he looked… common. From somewhere high to a fresh start at the bottom of the classes.

He missed his rings. He used to fiddle with them when he was nervous. He missed them now. His father had refused to let him take them. He wasn’t even to use his family name anymore.

Edward. Not Edward Munson, just… Edward. A no-one. Maybe he shouldn’t even be Edward… who could he be then?

“...What if I run?”

“You’d be punished if caught, most of the servants are paid by the crown, employed and can leave at any time, but as you’re to be paying off your fathers debts with your service...” a prisoner in other words “I’d suggest you don’t run.”  

“Ok.” If caught. The maids never caught him. He was small, lithe, he could climb and get through small gaps that the bigger boys could never fit through.

“Best not to even entertain the idea of trying, kid, a boy like you would barely last a day in the wilds, and you can’t go home.” A boy like him? Pfft they didn’t know him at all, he had an uncle who lived a modest life a few villages over, he could make it there on his own easy. Maybe.

“I won’t try.” Not at first. He wasn’t stupid, they’d be watching now. Expecting it. He’d plan, he’d map out where he’d be serving in his head, and he’d get out. Maybe it’d take him a week, or a month, but he’d be out.

“Good.” The carriage pulled to a stop shortly after the conversation died off, Edward staring down at his hands, hands that’d never worked a day in their lives, soft digits, soft limbs, soft… the man sat beside him stepped out of the carriage on the other side, then moments after, the door on his side opened, forcing the young Lo—no he wasn’t a Lord anymore was he? Forcing Edward to squint in discomfort as the sudden sunlight assaulted his eyes. “Out you get, kid.”

The carriage curtains had been closed on the way there, couldn’t even watch the scenery go by. He climbed out willingly, less he be dragged out by force.

Wordlessly his guide led him through the gates, soldiers taking one look at him and no more as they passed by, at least his guide wasn’t rushing, not even a brisk walk, he moved leisurely, so Edward didn’t have to hurry to keep up with his short legs. He figured his guide must have been someone high up in the soldier ranks though as nobody stopped them on the walk through the palace toward the gardens, a few soldiers on patrol nodded their heads to the man but nobody spoke a word against their advancement through the halls, nobody stopped them from entering the gardens. Nobody stopped them from approaching a very tall woman wearing a very fancy dress, her blonde hair curled beautifully and topped by a crown. Edward hid behind the man’s leg.

The Queen. They’d just casually approached the Queen.

Even his father wouldn’t have had the audacity to just walk up to the Queen. “Your Highness” his guide spoke aloud, catching the attention of the woman, who turned to them, surprise flitting across her features, yet she still looked radiant, as though she’d practiced being surprised so that she’d look beautiful no matter the situation. Edward briefly wondered if she’d practiced any other expressions, but surely not. Right? That’d be silly.

“Hopper! Welcome back to the palace, Captain, I trust that your journey to Forest Hills was a lucrative one?”

“One debt paid with servitude, ma’am.” ‘Hopper’ didn’t hesitate to reach back around and insist that he move out into view to be appraised; and appraised he was. “He’s a little small.” The Queen looked down on him with an assessing eye, a single brow raised in curiosity as she took in his tiny self. “Wouldn’t be good for much heavy lifting.”

“No, no he wouldn’t, would he? Doesn’t take after his father then I see.” No. Edward had never taken after his father, his father was a heavy-set man, his body meaty, and large, already balding, Edward had always been slender of physique, lithe, his hair full of voluminous curls and waves, the maids claimed he looked like his mother. Edward didn’t know, his father had rid the Manor of the pictures of her that once decorated the halls. “What of his education? Does he speak? Write? Read?”

“Kid, sound off.” Hopper instructed, gently nudging his back.

“I-If it… if it pleases you, Your Majesty… I read at a level twice my age, I write well, and I do speak, the maids of the Manor often claimed it more of a task to quieten me down than to get me to speak.” Perhaps that was a joke, the queen’s painted lips seemed to quirk a little at the corner as he said it. “I was learning how to play the lute, my tutor claimed me to be… gifted in music, and I can also ride an adult steed.”

“Quite the accomplished little Lord then, hm?” He tried really hard not to preen, he liked attention, he liked praise, he never got it from his father no matter how hard he tried to earn it. “What a waste of an accomplished young heir to sell you away so flippantly, that old goat should be flogged. The Captain of the Kings' Guard is however correct, you’re not very… big, are you?”

“I’m sorry, your majesty, the maids said I take after my mother.” Small and beautiful, a pretty little thing, like a flower so easily crushed.

“Mhm, may she rest in peace. I had the pleasure of meeting her once, a wonderful woman, your maids were correct.” He did take after her, in every way that mattered. “Very well. You will attend to my son, Prince Steven.” The Prince? Thee Prince? The future King? He was to serve that Prince, directly? He’d never met the Prince, never heard anything about him other than his name, and that he was born a year before Edward in the summer months. The bells had tolled for hours in celebration not that Edward remembered it. “Steven!” She turned her head over her shoulder, her torso gracefully twisting with it, one hand raised daintily “Steven, come here!”

And suddenly, all thought of escape drifted away atop the warm summer breeze when his eyes fell upon the most beautiful boy he’d ever seen in his life.

“Oh.” Was the only word he uttered, and he didn’t even realise he’d done that. Nothing else existed in the world, his hearing sounded muddied, sight focused solely on him, he could smell the fragrant brush of conifer on the prince’s clothes, people were talking, and he was staring. Wide eyed and blatant in his gaze, disrespectful but he couldn’t tear his eyes away and why should he? Surely beauty of such magnitude deserved to be looked upon in reverence, right?

“Hey, uh… you can call me Steve.” The Queen scoffed but said nothing, Edward was her son’s personal servant. “…Hello?”

“E-Ed…Edd—ehh—hah uhm…” Oh dear god, words. Words had never failed him before, of all the things to betray him in that moment, why wor—

“Eddie? Haha, okay,” Steve’s laughter like magic and music weaving together in a symphony fit solely for the gods to hear, not for mere mortal boys like him. “Nice to meet you Eddie! Guess we’re stuck together for the long haul then, eh?”

“The long haul… s-sounds… that sounds good.” The long haul sounded perfect.

Part 2

[silverynight]

The bunny from the Red light District

<---Previous

Part VI

Tokito is constantly following him around, well, all of them do when they come back from a mission to keep Nezuko and him safe.

Tanjirou finds that endearing, especially right now with Tokito, despite considering him a very distracted person at first, Tanjirou must admit he can really focus on something if he wants to.

He's been watching Tanjirou do house chores all day and listening to everything Tanjirou's been telling him.

"You're beautiful, Tanjirou," Tokito suddenly says, there's no hesitation in his voice; he blurts it out like it's the most obvious thing in the world.

The redhead can't help but blush to the tip of his ears; curiously, it's not the first time it happens, all the hashira seem to enjoy complimenting him. There's no need honestly; getting Nezuko and him out of that dangerous place was more than enough.

"Thank you, Tokito–san."

Still thinking about pleasing him, Tanjirou starts brushing his hair, Tokito sighs and leans into the touch with a satisfied grin on his face.

Tanjirou can't help but smile back at him.

***

Sometimes, they all come to pay him a visit at once; Nezuko is more alert on those days, keeping an eye on all of them as they gather around Tanjirou.

Having their undivided attention is overwhelming at first, but Tanjirou gets used to it quickly; they're honestly so friendly with him, but he's glad, he's never had so many people caring about him the way they do, at least not since his family died.

That day, Uzui's wives insist on making dinner for everyone and they all sit around the table, like they're some sort of a big family.

Tanjirou can't help it, he's so happy he starts tearing up; Nezuko notices it first and gets closer to him before pulling him into her arms.

Of course, the Pillars get worried for a moment. Shinazugawa cradles his face in his hands, although he's very careful and gentle, like he's afraid of hurting Tanjirou.

"Did someone hurt you? Tell me so I can give them a lesson... They won't hurt you again after I–"

"I'm fine," Tanjirou's assures him with a chuckle; Shinazugawa's aggressive way of showing he cares makes him smile again. "These are happy tears."

He really wants to do something for them in return, but he still doesn't know what and Nezuko didn't help him at all the other day by telling him to just put a red ribbon on his head because he was the best present for them.

She was laughing the whole time, which obviously made Tanjirou happy but at the same time time he pretended to be slightly irritated at her joke.

"I meant something they really want!"

Nezuko chuckled again before getting closer to her brother and rolling her eyes at him.

"Tanjirou, the only thing they want is you! Anything you do will make them happy!"

Tanjirou shakes his head, suddenly coming back to the present; the Pillars are giving him their undivided attention again.

He thinks about the maid outfit the butterfly girls brought for him the other day and decides that's what he's going to do; Iguro told him it'd make them happy after all and Tanjirou doesn't have any other ideas at the moment.

"Excuse me, I'll be right back," he mumbles before running towards his room.

He hesitates as soon as he puts it on though, it feels really good and is very comfortable, but he's not sure he looks good in it.

Taking a deep breath, he decides to just go back outside and show them; he can change back if they don't like it.

"What do you think?" He asks, feeling a little bit nervous. "Does it please you? Iguro-san and Suma-san said it would but..."

He stops as soon as he realizes he's being unfair to Himejima so he gets closer to him and sits on his lap. Tanjirou explains to him what he's wearing and takes one of his hands so he can feel the fabric of his uniform.

Himejima makes a choking sound before turning completely red, then to his shock, he realizes that the others are probably as red as he is.

Are they angry?

Sometimes he thinks Nezuko has some sort of power and can hear other people's thoughts, even though she assures him it's just because his face is very easy to read.

"No, they're not angry," she assures him, trying not to burst into laughter.

"Not at all!" Kanroji agrees with his sister before the others start saying more or less the same while Himejima nuzzles against his cheek.

"You have made us very happy, Tanjirou," Kocho mumbles, looking like she's fighting to hold back her own blush. "But you really don't have to do anything you don't want just to please us..."

"It's alright," Tanjirou grins, feeling more relaxed now. "I think I like it... It feels really comfortable."

"It's my turn," Uzui says suddenly, like he can't quite help himself. He looks desperate, at least until he takes Tanjirou in his arms. "Why are you so... Oh, your stockings look like they're a little bit... tight."

For some reason, he looks flustered, which brings back memories of the night they met, when Tanjirou was wearing his bunny suit.

"They are tight, but not uncomfortable," he assures him. "I think my thighs are just too wide..."

"Your thighs are perfect," Tomioka blurts out before he starts bleeding from his nose. Tanjirou gasps, realizing he's not the only one.

"Is everyone alright?" He gets closer to Tomioka, but Rengoku kneels in front of him and puts his arms around Tanjirou's waist, smiling happily.

"We've never been better, my boy!" Rengoku says, but Tanjirou thinks he's lying for a second, because Iguro looks like he's in some sort of trance and Shinazugawa has walked into Tokito, prompting him to fall to the ground.

It looks like chaos for a moment, although Nezuko seems like she's having so much fun.

"Maybe I should change back–"

"No!" They all say at the same time, startling him.

Iguro clears his throat.

"No... I mean, if you want to, you can, but if you like the outfit you can keep it," he manages to say.

"Oh... Okay."

He does like it actually, in fact he'd like to wear skirts more often, but he decides not to mention it at the moment...

Tanjirou spends the rest of the evening sitting on different laps; the Pillars insist, actually they beg him to do that.

"Just keep your hands where I can see them," Nezuko warns them every now and then to which they nod in response.

"You know they won't hurt me, Nezuko..."

"I know, I'm not worried about that," she smiles at Tanjirou, quite amused. "But they have to behave if they want to make a good impression."

"Of course, Nezuko!" Rengoku nods enthusiastically and everyone else seems to agree with him, even Shinazugawa. "We'll be good. We're very serious about this!"

"You better be," she warns.

"What are you talking about?" Tanjirou asks, feeling lost.

"Courtship, darling," Kocho says with a genuine smile on her face.

"Oh... Okay," he nods. So they'll start courting soon? Who are they going to court? Are they going to court different people at the same time? Do they want Tanjirou's help? Sadly, he doesn't know anything about that... But perhaps it's better to keep his questions to himself at the moment.

***

Next--->

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