#dispatch master

[elhombresiniestro]

Another cool new Dexter pic! The background was made in the Pixlr app.

[red-garden]

Qi Qingqi is not often sent out in missions with Shen Qingqiu, thank the heavens. Unfortunately, they are the spy masters of Cang Qiong, and there are occasions where they must collaborate.

After a handful of moles in a forest demon court were discovered, both were dispatched to infiltrate and rescue them. The mission went smoothly of course, they’re peak lords after all. The disciples were sent back on various secret routes. Shen Qingqiu handled the demon diplomacy while she liberated the spies. As long as they could fly back without killing each other, everything should be fine. Right?

Everything was not fine. Shen Qingqiu was not reacting well to some of the food he had to eat. The sect leader would tear Qi Qingqi a new asshole if she flew back to the sect without him, so she had to walk with him from town to town for li upon li. Of course a qi deviation was bound to happen, the Qing Jing peak lord’s cultivation was held together by twine. What she didn’t expect was the state the deviation would leave him in.

Once the sparking and flickering subsided, there was a very small, very gaunt boy wearing the peak lord’s clothing.

The boy was shaking. He asks where he is, and where his master went. He asks if he’d been sold again. Qi Qingqi says she doesn’t understand. The boy explains in a state of panic that he needs to find Qiu Jianluo as soon as possible if he doesn’t want to die, and he doesn’t want to die.

He says his name in Shen Jiu.

And he looks like a hundred girls Qi Qingqi has personally bought the contracts of.

He starts to calm down when she explains that if Qiu Jianluo is still alive, Shen Jiu has not seen him in many years. He grew to be a great cultivator, and he is usually much older than this.

Shen Jiu is a very timid child. He uses formal language obsessively, keeps his eyes down, and only speaks when spoken to. He’s rail thin. Where the too big robes spill off of him, mottled skin covered in a lattice of scars is quickly obscured by desperate hands.

He holds a fragile excitement about his future. Slowly, he asks questions about what sect he’s a part of, what his role is, what’s the name of his sword. He hasn’t learned to read the characters on the blade yet.

He asks Master Qi if she knows of another cultivator named Yue Qi.

Of course, that is the given name of zhangmen-shixiong. He entered the sect a little after Qi Qingqi did.

Shen Jiu smiles. He has the barest indent of dimples on his thin cheeks.

The journey back to the sect is interesting. Shen Jiu is cooperative enough to fly like this. He’s very quiet, barely clinging to Qi Qingqi’s robes. At one point he falls, leaning to see the city from above. He’s such a small thing, Qi Qingqi resolves to carry him. He barely weighs anything. He only whispers a thank you and wraps his arms around her neck, tucking his head under her chin. He makes himself so small, as if afraid to be noticed.

They fly straight to Qiong Ding. Shen Jiu hasn’t said much about the sect leader but Qi Qingqi’s suspicions have been aroused. She breezes through the line, little boy scrambling behind her awkwardly in his oversized clothing.

“Zhangmen-Shixiong, we need to talk now.”

He’s sitting at his desk as usual, Wei Qingwei apparently meeting with him. Qi Qingqi feels a tug on her skirts- Shen Jiu is standing behind her, shaking again.

“Qi-jie, where are we?”

Yue Qingyuan’s face goes white. He stands from his desk, neck craning to see the source of the voice. “Xiao Jiu?”

The boy peeks out, eyes wide. Wei Qingwei spots him too. “Shit, did Shen-Shixiong deviate?”

Yue Qingyuan leans over his desk, eyes pleading. “Does Xiao Jiu recognize me?”

Shen Jiu shrinks back, clutching Qi Qingqi’s skirts far more desperately. Qi Qingqi puts a hand on his arm. “You’re scaring him!”

Suddenly Qi Qingqi doesn’t feel as good bringing this child here. She turns around, scooping him up in her arms. “Zhangmen-Shixiong should finish his meetings. We’re going to Qian Cao and then home.”

[twinterrors29]

Alpha-17 is returned to the past, at a point a few years before his creation, from soon after Order 66 and all that ensued

his first step, naturally, was to kill Jango Fett

from there, it was only logical for him to step into the man's life as a bounty hunter (he's got to eat somehow, and it's not like he doesn't more than live up to the Prime's reputation)

but then, despite refusing the bounty on Vosa, is still cornered by a very recognizable Sith and ominously offered the Kamino job

he cannot let himself hesitate to accept it

his first task is to recruit a group of 'trainers', ones he believes are loyal to him (or can be made so)(and, if not, that he can easily dispose of) and brings them all to Kamino, and bides his time

he waits until the first batches of his siblings are born, playing along about just long enough so that his supporters can watch and learn how to continue their operation without requiring the Kaminoan's involvement

and then he strikes, removing them from the picture, and immediately modifies the cloning contract on record:

the clones he's raising are all for the Jedi, and in the name of the one Jedi he actually trusts them to

so when Kenobi is lured to Kamino by the Sith's machinations several years later, it's only Alpha-17 waiting for him in the rain on that landing platform

and all he says in greeting is, "Kenobi, good, you finally made it. Here's the boys, we're killing the Sith, are you coming or do you need any more time to prepare"

and proceeds to not wait for the man's answer as he drags him along through the final preparations for their mass departure for Coruscant, dodging meaningfully addressing any of his questions by fobbing him off onto his curious and delighted younger siblings who only have vague ideas of Alpha-17's plans

when they arrive, he plays along with the Chancellor just long enough to get close so he can cut the head off that snake directly, along with several other key Imperial Senators and ambitious would-have-been military personnel

he immediately declares Kenobi the Emperor to a crowd of aghast politicians (and an equally shocked Kenobi)

Anakin, hearing this news, swiftly returns from the solo mission that the late Chancellor had dispatched him on, furious that his Master has taken over the political system without inviting him to help 💔

he's equally swiftly mollified when, upon his arrival, Alpha-17 intercepts his impending meltdown by immediately turning him back around to be dispatched on missions important to securing their new Empire

[colorfulrook]

"Arise," Jinwoo's tone was cold as he looked over the corpses of the monsters in the dungeon. The creatures stared back, their auras buzzing in confusion as to why their new master was still angered despite having just won the battle.

"My liege, none of these servants know the location of our beloved queen," murmured Beru. He could feel that his Monarch's restlessness was starting to take a toll.

It had been one week since you disappeared, one week since Jinwoo felt that the shadows he left with you were torn away, leaving him unable to reach you instantly. The dungeon that you were supposed to clear with your party was nowhere to be found, leaving not only Jinwoo but your guild master in a state of alarm.

Jinwoo's gaze lingered on the ring on his finger. His desperation to find you was becoming more and more frustrating, and the old feeling of not being strong enough was threatening to emerge once again, angering him.

"Beru, Igris, remain here until the dungeon closes. Scout the whole area. If there is anything that could help us find her, bring it to me," commanded the hunter as he walked away, Bellion following after.

"My lord, I suspect the other monarchs are behind it. Finding her won't be easy, nor will seeing the state she will be in," the wise shadow spoke. While it was true that you were strong enough to take care of yourself, no one could tell what you were enduring if you were indeed at the mercy of their enemies, especially the monarchs.

"After I find (Y/n), there won't be any monarch to worry about. That much you can be sure of," assured Jinwoo before pausing outside the dungeon. Cold eyes stilled on the single corpse on the ground. Shadows rapidly dispatched around him as he looked for any kind of threat, only to be met with the silent mockery that was the abandoned body in front of him.

The state of it—ravaged and mangled almost beyond recognition—made his breath hitch in his throat. Dread crept up his spine as he searched for any signs of you. A strange sense of relief washed over him. The body wasn't yours, but that of a mage who had been in your party the day you disappeared. Soyee was her name, if he remembered correctly.

Beru returned by his side after flying around the zone.

"My liege, there are no signs of enemies nearby. Whoever left this body is not here anymore. I am truly sorry," the ant kneeled and examined the body.

"Do not worry, Beru," comforted his king, his gaze fixed on the blue notification above the corpse. "Hunter Soyee is going to help us find her... Arise."

---

blurted out words again while i was waiting for my train, I will revise and correct the error as I read it again, love you all <3 - Rook

I was also thinking about opening requests, to have the possibility to expand and improve my writing, so let me know if you'd all like that!

[dark-konohagakure2]

imagine succubus!reader lurking in the phantomhive manor to find a victim for the night cause a succubus gets their energy if they take control but ends up getting caught and noncon-ed by sebastian until she cant take it anymore and begs to stop

UGHHH I HAVE BEEN STUCK WITH THIS IDEA SINCE THE DAY I IMAGINED IT 😭😭 petition for more succubus!reader fics 😔

tw: noncon, succubus!reader, size difference, tail pulling, rough sex, overstimulation, humiliation, creampie

All characters depicted are 18+

Sebastian takes his duties as the butler of the Phantomhive household very seriously, so seriously in fact that he doesn't ever sleep, mainly because demons don't need to sleep, but the fact still remains that there is no butler more diligent than Sebastian. His keen senses are able to pick up on the smallest of noises, even the faintest creak of the floorboards won't escape his notice. If a pin dropping doesn't go unnoticed by Sebastian, then there is no way in hell that he won't notice the presence of another hellish entity in his midst.

He is equal parts intrigued and concerned. Sebastian knows he can effortlessly dispatch any threat towards his master, bit even so the thought of another demon being after him is quite concerning. Never one to waste his time dwelling on any worries he might have, Sebastian will quickly do his part as a butler by apprehending the uninvited guest.

It's comically easy for Sebastian, he's not called a devil of a butler for nothing, he's able to use his superior strength to yank the little demon over to him when she's unaware, grabbing her by the pointy tail, which makes her hiss out in pain like a cat. Sebastian likes cats, even the ones with claws, but he sadly can't pet her, not when she's been such a bad girl as to even attempt to endanger his master.

Sebastian knows precisely how to deal with a naughty little succubus like herself, her kind feed off the sexual energy and desires of men, so he'll give her exactly what every succubus wants, he'll give it to her until she's begging him to stop. It's a fitting punishment for the demonic intruder, and it finally gives Sebastian the opportunity to stop feigning his humanity, even if just for a short while.

"Naughty thing, did you truly believe you could intrude oh my master's property without consequence? Oh how adorable~ I'll be sure to give you something to remember before sending you back to our home~"

His eyes are glowing unabashedly now, the glowing red orbs now having a feral intensity to them as he starts teasing the lesser demon, yanking on her tail roughly as he exposes her holes to his hellish gaze, teasing her sensitive pussy lips mercilessly before he decides to have his fill of her. Sebastian hasn't had a good fuck in a while, and certainly never with another demon that was aware of his true nature, so he's going to savor this rare treat.

Being centuries old, Sebastian is well versed in the art of making somebody come undone around his cock, whether they want to or not. His hips will slam against her from behind, his balls slapping against his ass while he fucks her raw, pulling on her tail like a bully pulling on the braids of a girl he likes. Sebastian's cock is long and thick, even in his human form, so it'll ram against her oversensitive womb with every thrust, forcing her into one mind breaking orgasm after the other.

Demons typically can't reproduce with one another, so Sebastian can cum inside of her to his heart's content without a care in the world, and he won't be satisfied with cumming inside of her just once, he's going to breed her until she's begging him to stop, and for hours after that too. It won't take long for her to go from confident and rude to whining and pleading with him to show mercy, but nothing will come of those pleas aside from her receiving even more mockery and even more loads shot into her already overstuffed womb.

He finds her reactions and pleading to be both adorable and pitiful, not to mention ironic; a creature who feeds off of sex now begging him to stop fucking her, her impish pussy overflowing with cum and weakly gripping his cock, fucked loose from the brutal pounding she's getting. He definitely won't be stopping anymore despite her pleas, after all, lesser demons make lovely fucktoys.

"Oh my~ begging already, little one? How sad, your kind usually loves getting ravished so, you truly are a disgrace from all demonkind~! How cute~!"

But alas, he can't keep this adorable little kitten as a house pet as much as he wants to, his young master would never allow such a thing, but Sebastian takes pride in the fact that he successfully subdued another interloper, and she won't mess with him again, that is unless she wants her holes destroyed again.

[sp4ceboo]

The Princess's Guard: Bakugou Katsuki x Reader x Kirishima Eijirou

genre: medieval au, fantasy au, a/b/o au, omegaverse au, alpha!katsuki x omega!reader x alpha!eijirou, non conventional a/b/o dynamics, porn with some plot, afab!reader, princess!reader, smut

summary: you recognise something is amiss the moment you step into your quarters. getting rid of the kidnappers is the easy bit - the challenge is teaching your two bodyguards a lesson.

tw: 18+, smut (p in v, knots, overstimulation, one spank, one slap, double penetration, anal penetration - both fingers and dick 👍, oral f receiving, everyone's a switch, some knife kink, spit kink, size kink if you squint, cum eating, kats highkey loves the pain, reader is mean, degradation & praise), violence, blood, death, sword fighting, attempts at kidnapping, lil izuku cameo!, about 33% plot and 67% smut

wc: 5.9k

other works

You recognise something is amiss the moment you step into your quarters. The careful balance of scents - your own, and the comforting mix of campfire smoke and musky citrus - has been interrupted, invaded by a foreign odour that, though faint, is dirty and reeks of the undercity. Your ears prick, and your eyes find the rumpled curtains of the furthest window.

A sloppy job, then.

They may not be the subtlest, nor the most precise, but whoever they are, they certainly have their timing mastered (or they simply got lucky; a fluke of sorts), since both members of your personal guard are absent as of the current, busy quietly dispatching a nobleman you’d ordered them after. It had taken time, but you and your brother had discovered him guilty of covering up various crimes including some less than savoury instances with his underpaid scullery maids.

You know what the intruders are here for. It is not for the relative finery of your rooms, though they are not nearly as gaudy as they should be for a princess, nor the jewels gifted to you by neighbouring nations that nestle with all their lustre in the darkness of the small chest on your mantel, but for you.

It would not be the first time mercenaries and bounty hunters have been bribed exorbitantly to face your two guards and steal you away into the night. After all, you are of a rare kind. You are an omega: the youngest of the twenty that survive the ancient bane that still ravages the lands your father rules over, and those beyond your borders too.

When the nation found out that the princess had presented as an omega, they had rejoiced, almost elevating you in status over the crown prince, your older brother. Izuku had not minded -  rather, he enjoyed the peace, as for once, it was you who the people wanted blessing their babies and mediating their problems, not him.

You were, and still are, a sought after omega princess in a sea of alphas and betas, and so your father had hired your personal guard. Most of the kingdom is still under the impression that you will be married off to some lucky noble or foreign prince, but little do they know that you are already claimed; anyone who sees you and your guard up close will notice the way their eyes follow you at all times, the way they wear the grooves down their backs from your nails proudly.

They too have littered you in their marks, drenched you in their scents, claiming you as theirs without question, and you would have it no other way. You have your guard, and they are all you need.

But your alphas are not here, and though it is not the first time someone has tried to break into your quarters, it is the first time you are alone when it’s happened. Still, in the years of omegas’ absence, people have forgotten their strength; they have forgotten that the blood in your veins and the instincts woven into your being are just as potent and intense as an alpha’s.

You take a deep breath. The smell of the undercity has grown stronger, enough so to tell you that whoever lies in wait for you, concealed somewhere in your quarters, has crept closer, maybe even entered the antechambers you stand in. Your hand drops down to your sword, your fingers curling around the hilt as you spin slowly in a circle, scanning the room.

There is the soft scuff of the sole of a boot against floorboards.

Unsheathing your sword, you whirl to face the man who stands just behind one of the sofas: he is a beta by the looks of it, which explains why you couldn’t pinpoint his exact location. What little scent he has is fully masked by the stink of undercity on him.

His hand blurs, and a loud clang rings out as you slash your sword in a tight arc, deflecting the dagger he hurls at you. You trap it beneath your boot as it skitters across the floor - you can see a dark substance lacing its tip. Some sort of mild sedative, most likely, which means that he must have come with others to help transport your unconscious body.

Sedatives are a smart idea, if a little hard to carry out. If your alphas had been with you, the sedatives would have taken them out of the picture soon enough, allowing for less required brawn to take them out, but it’s only you, and you’re nimble enough that this beta’s rather shaky aim is not enough to finish you off.

You drop low, moving fast, skidding around the sofas and tackling him to the floor, pinning his throwing wrist to the ground with your knee. It’s a struggle to keep yourself from skewering him at such close distance while he wriggles futilely in an attempt to throw you.

“Who sent you?” You demand, pressing your sword to his neck hard enough to draw blood.

He takes a deep breath, but instead of speaking, he whistles tremulously - a signal of some sort. Cursing, you dispatch him quickly, briefly mourning the fate of your nice fluffy rug as your attention is drawn to the grappling hook that you hadn’t previously noticed on your window sill pulling taut. You’ve gotten soft, too reliant on your alphas. Back in the day, you would have noticed something like that immediately.

The two men that climb up the rope and into your antechambers are both alphas, and greed glows bright in their eyes at the prospect of the omega princess all by herself, only dimming slightly when they spot their fallen comrade. You take a few steps back, wanting to judge their abilities before you dive in.

Two against one are the sort of odds you like, even if you’ve deskilled enough to stupidly overlook warnings so obvious it’s like they’ve been left out for you. A grin pulls at your lips, even despite the way the two alphas look at you - your own barely let you lift a finger, and though they are perfectly happy to spar with you, you like it when there’s a little more at stake.

“Even from outside, you smell so sweet, pretty omega,” the one on the left croons.

He cackles, and the other laughs with him, the two of him like deranged hyenas. Fatally, they have underestimated you, unable to see past the fact you are alone and without your infamous guard. They think you are ripe for the taking. You will prove them horribly, horribly wrong.

You decide to kill the one who spoke first.

Lunging forward, you easily slip past his guard and deliver a sharp crack of your knuckles against his jaw; aghast, he gapes at you, and you don’t waste your time as you clash your sword with his, the sound of steel on steel ringing out. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see his companion is frozen in shock, mouth hanging open. It means that the fact they’ve gotten this fair is certainly down to beginners luck, and you’re a little disappointed they won’t prove more of a challenge.

You’re not being cocky - you understand how badly the kingdom needs you, as a figurehead of the omegas and a resistance against the bane if not someone for your brother to fall back on and your parents to gain support from. Still, you do not call for guards, and you do not run from this fight: something you’re sure your alphas will berate you for not doing later.

In truth, you miss the adrenaline rush. You miss duelling with people who aren’t terrified of slicing your precious omega skin open, and the bitter smelling alpha opposite you certainly doesn’t seem to be scared of such a thing as he recovers from the blow you landed.

He rushes at you, but he’s unsettled and a little frenzied, like an angry bull, and in a precise parry, you disarm him. His sword clatters to the floor. Swiftly, you bury your blade into his chest and yank it out again, letting him fall to the floor as you turn to the other, your shoulders squaring. This one’s face has gone pale, and frantically, he whistles - gods, of course there’s more of them.

Though the fear sours his previously overbearing scent, he’s more skilled than his late companion. You clash with him, feinting left before striking right, but he’s fast enough to dodge, only getting nicked in the forearm: still, he stumbles backwards, and you lash out again, sword glittering like quicksilver.

A glance over his shoulder reveals a hand on the sill as another attacker climbs up the rope, and you curse. There’s no way of knowing how many of them are waiting out of sight. You need to dispatch this one and get that hook off your window sill before the odds go from fun to mildly threatening.

Lunging forward, you take him off guard by twirling right past him instead of attacking; seizing the poker from by the fireplace in your left hand, you dart closer to him and bring it down hard on his wrist, using your sword to flick his out of his hand and backing him up against the window. You brace your feet, widening your stance in preparation to deliver the final blow.

“Gotcha.” Hot breath brushes your ear, a cold blade at your throat. The poker clatters to the floor.  “You’re a feisty one, omega. Now drop that sword.”

You swear. You weren’t fast enough, and another must have climbed through the window when you were by the fireplace, your back turned. Opposite you, you can see your former assailant’s eyes fill with relief, his fingers clutching the mantelpiece as he pants, gasping for breath.

A furrow forms in his brows, and he looks past your shoulder before walking over to the window sill and securing the grappling hook - the one holding you must be communicating with him somehow.

The dagger at your throat presses into your flesh. “Don’t make me tell you twice, fucking bitch.”

At first, you stiffen, but then you force your muscles to relax, feigning surrender as you let your sword arm droop. The attacker behind you chuckles, the blade at your throat easing, and you bring up your free hand to paw at his forearm, producing a breathy, frightened noise from deep in your chest. Anyone who knows you well enough would see right through it, but it works like a charm on the self righteous alpha you’re using it on.

Your fingers tighten in the fabric of his sleeve, yanking it away from your neck as you slam your head back, crunching it into his nose. He howls, stumbling backwards, and you keep a tight grip on him, heaving him forwards and right into his companion - the momentum sends them both right over the sill, and you don’t bother to watch them fall as you unhook the grapple and let it plummet after them.

Disgruntled, you step back from the window and stare at the bodies on your floor and their growing pools of blood. Sheathing your sword, you stride through the rest of your quarters to check if there’s any lurkers. You’ve just finished scouring your bedroom and have begun to unbuckle the plate armour you’d previously had on when you hear the door to the antechambers open, and two familiar scents wash over you. Your guards are back.

Katsuki smells like bonfire smoke and burnt sugar, while Eijirou is citrus and gentle musk; remnants of their essence linger on you and all over your quarters, woven deep into the well worn spots they often take up on the sofas of the antechamber and even deeper into your bedsheets.

Their scents spike suddenly, and you know they’ve seen the bodies. Katsuki calls your name, and suddenly the two of them barrel through your bedroom door - the space in your room seems to decrease rapidly as they enter, two huge, imposing alphas protective and ready for a fight. Eijirou deflates at the sight of you unscathed, but Katsuki bristles.

“Are you hurt, omega?” He barks.

“I’m fine,” you soothe, patting his broad chest. “Nothing I couldn't handle.”

Eijirou steps forward from where he fills the doorframe, inhaling, checking your scent for the distinct metallic tang of blood. You watch as he scans the room, skimming it for anything wrong despite knowing you’ve probably already done so.

Remorse is clear on his face, and you know that if Katsuki was less frustrated with himself, it would be on his too; though you are not hurt, though you are capable on your own, and though you are the reason there were gone, they still were not there to protect you when you needed them. You can see they are both painfully aware of it.

Slowly, Eijirou gets to his knees in supplication, and after hesitating, Katsuki does too.

“My lady,” Eijirou says softly, eyes downcast. “We have failed you.”

Katsuki remains silent, a muscle in his jaw feathering. He cannot meet your eyes. Taking a step forward to stand directly in front of them, you cannot help but relish the way the power rushes to your head. There they kneel, at your feet, heads bowed. It’s at odds with the pure strength that sings in their veins and permeates their very beings, strength that is so clearly evident in the ripple of muscle that lines their every movement and the patterns of scars on their skin.

“Two of you, and still you can’t do your job properly,” you sigh, bending down so you can look them in their eyes. “Pathetic, good for nothing alphas.”

Intertwining with Eijirou’s sweet musk, the warm scent of caramel floods the room as Katsuki immediately catches on to the cruel, saccharine tone of your voice. You laugh softly, prowling over to him, amused by the way he unashamedly breathes in your scent.

Picking up the silver dagger on your desk, you wrap your fingers around its ornate hilt and roughly fist a hand in Katsuki’s blonde hair, yanking his head back. He glares at you, his crimson eyes defiant, the muscles in his neck straining, and you flip the dagger in your hands before pressing the tip to his throat. A low growl sounds low in his chest as you trace the line of his jaw, clenched to perfection.

The burnt sugar flavour to the air only grows.

With a flick of your wrist, you nick his skin with the blade - another flick, and his shirt is in shreds; he snaps at your fingers with his teeth like he can’t help it. Quickly, you seize his face in your hand, holding him steady. He snarls again, deep and churlish, and you glance down, smirking at the sight of his cock tenting his trousers.

“Fucking bratty, aren’t you, Kats?”

“Omega,” he replies, a raging  inferno behind his eyes.

You ignore the way his chest heaves and the way he looks at you, instead turning your attention to Eijirou. He ducks his head, and though you like the way he grovels, you’re aware that it’s only because he knows you’re feeling mean today. You tip his chin up so you can look at him head on.

“And you, Eiji,” you coo, simpering. “You act all sorry, as if your dumb puppy eyes will make me go easy on you.”

Like he’s aching to touch you, his hands twitch, but he knows not to without permission, instead balling them into fists; you swipe a thumb over his lower lip before hooking a finger into his hot mouth, coaxing it open, careful of his sharp teeth. There’s something pitiful and pleading in his gaze, like he’d kneel at your feet to worship forever if he could.

His eyes glaze over when you spit in his mouth.

He whines, low in the back of his throat as he swallows like a good little alpha, and you tell him so with a fleeting kiss. Chuckling when he leans desperately into you, you pull away from him, perching on your mattress and beginning to undress: they remain kneeling on the floor, you the empress and they the reverent subjects of the kingdom inside your bedroom.

Carefully, Eijirou attempts to train his gaze on the mattress, loath to be on the receiving end of your ire, but Katsuki goads it, staring openly at your body with blood red eyes burning with hunger and wanting. When you remove your underwear, parting your legs for them to see, he surges up to his feet, his restraint at the end of its tether, but you halt him with a hand on his wide chest.

Firmly, you push him backwards, and his knees hit the floor with a dull thud. He scowls, and you drag your nails softly down his cheek. You know he likes the pain. In fact, he relishes it; both he and Eijirou wear the marks you make like badges of honour, of worthiness, for the omega princess deems them deserving of her touch.

“Move from there again, and I won’t let you touch me all night, alpha.”

A deep, rebellious rumble emanates from his chest like thunder, and this time, you strike him across the face - his head snaps to the side, and though he fights it, though he bites down hard on his lower lip in effort to stifle it, a muffled, helpless groan leaves him. Triumphantly, you smirk as he pants, great shoulders heaving, hands clenching to form fists.

You look to Eijirou, and he gazes up at you starstruck, so eager to please, to have a taste. Beckoning him forward, laughing at his hesitance, you kiss him hard before lying back against your pillows, helping him undress and directing his head between your legs. He moans into your pussy, licking so earnestly into your heat the moment he’s boxed in by your thighs it’s as if he might die if he doesn’t, so fervent that you're half inclined to believe it.

Burying your hands in his red hair, you tug lightly - just the way he likes it. You’re rewarded with a delicious, depraved sound that vibrates right against your clit, and you buck your hips against his face, eyes rolling at the friction.

“Please,” he whines when your thighs close around his head.

“He’s fuckin’ useless,” Katsuki spits. “I could do a better job, omega.”

You arch a brow. “Keep on like that, and you won’t get a chance.”

That shuts him up, the floorboards creaking as he shifts uncomfortably from his spot on the floor. He knows your threats are not empty, still, you can see his cock is hard, achingly so, because he likes, craves, the torture and the constraints just as much as he hates them. In the same way, Eijirou likes the way you give him space to let go, fucking him until he’s dumb as if he’s nothing but a toy, a knot.

You can feel the mattress rocking beneath you. Desperately, Eijirou humps the soft blankets beneath him, gasping into your cunt, his fingers clenching in the fabric as you grind against his face. Throwing your head back, you cry out his name; your orgasm builds molten in the pit of your stomach.

“Fuck,” you hiss, tugging hard on his locks to yank him right against your cunt, and then you’re coming on his tongue.

Sparks of overstimulation begin running down your spine as he continues to lap at your pussy; you pull insistently at his hair, and he lifts his head from where he’s lost in you, breathing hard as he gazes at you with lidded eyes. He’s amusingly fucked out from the taste of you, dazed and drunk and a little teary, still weakly rutting into the mattress.

“C’mere, alpha,” you laugh.

Eijirou scrambles to slot himself into the space made by your outstretched arms, and you kiss him sweetly. He’s fucking huge, broad shouldered enough that he covers your body completely with his, engulfing you in honeyed citrus and musk and still adorably struck dumb. The essence of you is laced on his tongue, and it makes you giddy.

He nuzzles against your scent glands, hiding his face in your neck, and you let him recover there, instead beckoning Katsuki over - he curls his lip at the easy way you call him but comes as you bid him anyways, too impatient for your touch to do otherwise. Eyes blazing, he glares down at you, his weight creating a dip in the mattress.

Lifting your hand, you pull him down to you. All it really takes is a kiss, and he’s tearing his trousers off like they burn him. You bite down on his lower lip, and he groans into your mouth, pumping his dick in his hand, once, twice, trailing his tongue down the column of your throat, holding your waist in a grip that’s bruising.

“Don’t make me wait any fucking longer, omega.” His lips are hot in your skin.

You smirk. “Oh, I think I will.”

Eijirou begins rolling his hips against you, wanting to steal your attention back. He’s painfully hard, his cock flushed red and pulsing against your thigh. Curling your fingers around him, you kiss him ardently, like you’re trying to taste the syrupy whimpers that fall from his lips. A short cry leaves him when you swipe your thumb over his cockhead; he bucks up into your touch, sensitive from how long he’d been grinding against the mattress.

You begin jerking him at a pace he can’t keep up with, savouring the sweet gasps and moans that you coax from him like treasures. Katsuki nips rather pointedly at the curve of your shoulder and you casually shrug him off, enjoying how you hold him in the palm of your hand maybe a little too much. It’s altogether too easy to ignore him with sweet, sweet Eijirou writhing in the sheets beside you, moaning your name like it’s worship.

“That’s it, alpha,” you coo. “Just like this, yeah?”

Frantically he nods, and the scent of citrus heightens, like an orchard of orange blossom has sprung into existence in your quarters, filling your nose with its fragrant perfume. It doesn’t take him long to unravel and shatter under your hands.

His thighs tremble as he comes, over his chest and yours, and still you do not let up, squeezing his knot tight - he sobs, begging you incoherently, and you groan, half because of the mess you’ve made him into, half because you can feel Katsuki’s cockhead rubbing against your pussy as he litters your skin with hickeys from behind.

Eventually, you ease up, and Eijirou goes limp, gasping and shaking like a newborn calf, hips twitching from the aftershocks; you laugh when he buries his face against your neck, his breath hot against your collarbone as he laps at your scent glands, still eager to please after you’ve worn him out. Carding a hand through his hair, you studiously ignore your other alpha as he nibbles at your earlobe, instead pressing gentle kisses to Eijirou’s face.

After some contemplation, you scoop up some of his release from your skin and twist around to face Katsuki. Holding his eyes, you bring your fingers to his lips, smirking at the soft whimper from your left as the blonde takes you into his mouth up to the third knuckle. Unsurprisingly, he’s impatient when you kiss him, as eager to taste you as you are to taste Eijirou on his tongue.

You’ve made him stay himself long enough.

Pressing him into the mattress, you pin him flat on the bed and straddle his hips, grinning triumphantly down at him when he has no time to curse at you for forcing him to hold back for so long - he’s too busy curling his fingers around the base of his fat cock and lining himself up. A soft groan slips from you as you sink down on him, unravelling from somewhere behind your sternum.

Being on top of an alpha like Katsuki is a thrilling thing, wholly different from Eijirou. Eijirou obeys, does everything he can to please you, and it gives you the type of power rush that leaves you giddy. But Katsuki, Katsuki fights, and even now, as you ease his cock slowly in and out of you, you can see the challenge in his eyes. In response, you rake your nails down his chest, carving red lines into the strength of him, and he could not hide the way his body responds to the twinge, the sting, if he wanted to.

Bucking up, he twitches inside you, and you bare your teeth at him, pinning his wrists and snarling when he surges against you, hips snapping up into your heat - you bend over him, grazing your canines over his jugular in warning, and though he goes still, a rumble thrums deep in his chest.

Katsuki is taut beneath you, muscles tensed as he strains against your hold, eyes gleaming with a hunger that makes your stomach twist. The view is enough to make you clench around him, and you hear a quiet whine from Eijirou, no doubt enjoying the sight of the other alpha with his hackles raised as much as you do.

“Sweet omega,” Katsuki pants, a note of desperation leaking into his tone. “Let me fuck you.”

Something coils in you and pulls tight, so hot it burns, and you yank him upwards so you can claim his mouth, sweeping your tongue against his and biting down on his lower lip: as you do, your hands release his wrists, and you feel every inch of him stiffen at the non verbal permission.

Caramel floods your nose, so potent you almost taste its sweetness on your tongue, and strong, calloused hands flip you onto your front, wrapping tightly around your thighs and tugging them until your back is arched for him. Hard, his palm cracks down on your ass, and your eyes roll back, hips jumping back towards him as the pain frissons down your body, tugging indelibly at your insides.

Your jaw goes slack as Katsuki runs his cockhead through your folds, your insides coiling as you brace yourself for the moment he thrusts in.

It doesn’t come.

Whining, you arch your back further, and then, softly, Katsuki chuckles. You grit your teeth, too easily able to imagine the smirk on his face, the way he’s gloating about how he’s got you to change your tune so fast - how he’s got you presenting for him like you’re in heat.

“Eager, aren’t we, princess?”

You snarl. “I’m warning you, alpha.”

This threat is empty, though, and he knows it as well as you do: any admonishment you make means nothing with how much your cunt is slicking up, hungry for his knot. Still, he knows not to test you any further, and in truth, he probably doesn’t want to. You made him wait, after all.

Unceremoniously, the air is knocked from your lungs when he sinks himself inside you to the hilt. The wanton sound that slips from deep in your chest is embarrassing enough that you bite down on the sheets beneath you, fingers fisting in the silky fabric, but Katsuki’s used to you, and he yanks at your hair until he can hear you clearly, the way he likes.

He stays there for a moment, drawing out the equilibrium, the sweet balance of every inch of his cock buried inside your heat, your walls clamping down on him like a vice. This alpha is petty, remembering his pride now he’s got you beneath him, and he wants to make you wait. It’s a good thing you’re more patient than he is.

You clench around him, on purpose this time, and the sound that leaves him is feral.

The pace he sets is brutal, avid, everything that is Katsuki. He is never one to do things half hearted, and fucking you is no different: he pounds into you like he means to imprint his family’s crest on your womb. You cannot think of anything but the heady pull of his cock through your walls, the slap of his skin against yours, the bruising grip he has on your hips.

Your hair is still twisted around his fist, and punishing, he tugs on it, keeping your back arched for him, keeping you there so all you can do is take what he gives, pussy fluttering around him, desperately trying to suck him in. The way your slick drips down your thighs is lewd, the sound of it lewder.

“Kats,” you gasp, and then his cock finds somewhere deep inside you, somewhere that makes your eyes roll back. “Katsuki!”

He chuckles, releasing your hair, and your head flops down onto the mattress - you’re too boneless to hold it up yourself. A gentle hand cups your jaw, and then you’re gazing blearily up at Eijirou, his kind eyes taking up your field of vision, a wide, ruby red sea to lose yourself in; with one hand, he holds yours, the other reaching up to pet your hair.

“You’re taking him so well,” he praises. “Good, yeah? Is Katsuki making you feel good?”

You try to respond, but you’ve been robbed of your words, your tongue stolen, so instead you moan, panting and trembling and twisting the sheets in your left hand; in your right, you grip Eijirou so hard you think you hear his joints crack, but you can’t be sure over the rough noises Katsuki is making - or the sounds he’s drawing out of you. Something stretches tight in your stomach, and you gasp, feeling yourself begin to tip over the edge.

Wickedly, still railing into you, he rolls his fingers over your clit, collecting your slick, and then you feel his thumb at the rim of your ass, not quite entering you yet, but there, almost there. Tears well up in your eyes, and Eijirou’s face blurs before you, your mouth falling open as Katsuki practically wrings the orgasm from your body.

Katsuki pushes his thumb all the way in. You come, voice hoarse as you scream his name.

He stills, and you realise there’s no knot stretching you out. Your breath hitches, thighs jumping as you brace yourself - he’s perfectly capable of fucking you through an orgasm and overstimulating you until you’re sobbing. He’s done it before, and you wouldn’t be at all shocked if he did it again.

To your surprise, all he does is pull out and pat your ass cheek fondly: confused, you attempt to push yourself upright, but your arms give out before you make it halfway. Laughing, Katsuki runs his fingers through your folds, collecting your wetness and obviously relishing the soft whine that escapes you, and then he’s pushing his thumb into your ass again. Something goes molten inside you.

He’s not done with you yet. He’s far from done.

Your thighs are still shaking as you come down from your high. You fight the urge to squirm, either backwards on him to ask for more, or forwards and away because you’re a little raw, a little sensitive. Katsuki scissors his fingers inside you, stretching you out: it’s clear now, he’s preparing you for his cock.

“Just relax, omega,” he soothes. “Breathe.”

Playing with you a little more, he leans over you and trails kisses down your spine - you glance over your shoulder, eyes flicking down to the length of his cock, rock hard and slippery against your thigh. You catch a glimpse of his eyes, glittering and hungry, and your pussy clenches around nothing. Eijirou curses under his breath, and you turn back to face him, noticing he’s hard again.

And then strong, calloused hands are lifting you up, and Katsuki is sitting you down on his cock, settled with his back braced against the headboard of your bed. A whimper escapes your throat, your nails digging into his thighs from where they frame yours, toes curling at the glorious stretch of him.

You’re panting again by the time he’s buried all the way inside. Eijirou is watching, his fingers wrapped around his cock, eyes fixed on where Katsuki’s cock enters you. Katsuki wraps an arm across your front, cupping your breast and kneading your flesh in his palm, easily drawing the other alpha’s attention - once he has it, he hooks your knees over each of his forearms and spreads your legs wide, and finally, you understand what he’s up to.

“Think Eiji wants to join us, my lady?” He taunts.

“Yes - ah!” You yelp when he rocks his hips, muscles jolting. “Fuck, p - please.”

That’s all he needs to hear before he’s crawling forward on the mattress, eyes fixed on you, on the tremors running down your legs, on your heaving chest. You whine his name, tipping your chin up to expose your throat for him. Eagerly, he trails wet kisses along your collarbone, turning his head to mouth at your scent glands and drink you in, laving his tongue over your sweat damp skin.

Eijirou lines himself up, easing himself in. You’re trapped between two deliciously warm, muscled chests, and gods, you’re full, so full you can barely breathe, so full you’re seeing stars before your eyes, a galaxy condensed into your room. Lips claim yours, citrus blooming on your tongue, and then they’re moving, they’re moving -

“Our omega princess needs two cocks to satisfy her, hm?” Eijirou croons. “Isn’t that right?”

Katsuki grunts. “Can’t - fuck - can’t leave her wanting,”

You sob, for it is divine, the friction, the pleasure, breaking you and mending you over and over until you lose your voice calling their names. Beneath it is the sharp bite of overstimulation, ever looming, electric in your veins. You’ve been launched in orbit, leaving you anchored only by their hands on you, lost in the cataclysm.

And then, shaking, enraptured, you are falling, flying. Behind you, Katsuki buries himself in your ass, spilling his load, his knot already beginning to swell. You’re convulsing around Eijirou, sucking him in, greedy, and that’s what pushes him over: he comes with a groan, grinding his cock into you so his knot sits snugly in your walls.

Gently, Katsuki rubs his hand up and down your side, a comforting purr already kicking up in his chest - you sigh as Eijirou strokes your hair, tucking your head against his shoulder and pressing a kiss to your forehead. Your eyes are already closing, soothed by the smell of caramel mixing with citrus to form a perfect half and half, sugary but a little tangy.

“You okay, sweets?”

You melt at the deep rumble of Katsuki’s voice, nodding with your nose pressed against Eijirou’s scent gland. Someone is drawing patterns along your side with their fingers, someone else’s breath is ruffling your hair: this is heaven, sandwiched here between your two alphas.

“We’re sorry about the intruders,” Eijirou mumbles.

You summon enough energy to half heartedly punch his arm. “Eiji. I can’t ask you to be a bodyguard all the time - I don’t want you to be. Besides, you two are the best alphas I could ask for.”

 “Mm, we take care of you, don’t we, omega?” You can hear the grin in Katsuki’s voice.

“Yeah,” you smile, content. “You do.”

a/n: u can literally see the point where i lose patience w it all 💀 whoops

taglist: @gethexxed @rori-ol @fashominnie

[twistedpink]

ONG have you written malleus and/or trey?? sneakylink!them got me biting my lip every second...

EEEE

Malleus is a terrible sneaky link just because you need to make an effort to stay casual, and Trey is too worried about losing you to argue for being official. And two timing them? Insane audacity.

This dynamic only really works if Malleus is third wheeling you and stud muffin- If the fairy prince can’t please his partner, there’s no room for any other relationships. But being the side chick? Scandalous. He needs to steal you away to keep a shred of dignity, and you live to hold it over his head <3

Sneakly link!Trey spoils you well beyond his means to keep your hookups going. He’s got nothing else to spend it on, scouts honor! Bags, clothes, and food’s all on the table so long as he gets to be there for the thank you kisses.

The dorm is sick of your amateur sneaking around, and there’s a group effort to make you exclusive because of it. Anything to get their big brother back!! Trey loves nothing more than making out in the kitchen cupboard (peak teen romance), and aren’t you the sweetest for obliging his little break?

Sneaky link!Malleus is pathetic with his yearning. Regardless of the letters and dowry’s that are sent, there’s no happy ending for this lordling :( He begs for your attention. Please give it to him, even if it’s just for the gilded spank bank

The draconians hound you night and day without knowing just how deep your relationship goes. Anyone who suspects a midnight rendezvous as something more intimate than an assassination is quickly dispatched by Sebek. His master must stay pure until his wedding day! He has no idea that his human companion’s tainted the royal jewels,,

God, you’re evil for this one! Everyone on campus is looking for the inside scoop, and you’re lucky that your boytoys aren’t the bragging type (unprovoked, at least). I’d choose very carefully to avoid a smiting, but if you can pull it off why not look for a fourth? It’ll surely keep you entertained- But who to choose.. <3

[elhombresiniestro]

I did it! I made an OC based on the gone but not forgotten Cedar Point roller coaster, the Disaster Transport. His name is Dexter Delta. He is kind of a hot mess LOL!

[ayyy-pee]

mmmmokay can i request maybe a hashira!reader x sanemi where during the hashira meeting with lady amane following the swordsmith village arc, reader also takes her leave with tomioka and sanemi is piiiissssed and confronts her about it at her estate afterward (obv angrily). but then eventually she breaks and tells him that she wants to give him the future he deserves, to live happily married together with as many children as he wants (…perhaps… she could already be pregananant?). but she can’t bear the thought of leaving a child orphaned if they both manifest the curse mark (im sure he understands)

thanks love <3 ur my fav btw

hello nonnie!! am i barely answering your October request now in February? yes! somethings don't change sldkfjsdk. i hope you enjoy it because i love sanemi so much and could totally see him itching to kill somebody over you until he gets THE NEWSSS ohhhh. SANEMI CALL ME PLEASEEEE MY PHONE NUMBER IS 1-888-FCK-MEEE!!!

anyway - here it is

Discord 18+ - Twitter

Pairing: Sanemi Shinazugawa x Female Reader

Summary: With the imminent threat of Muzan approaching, the Hashira are given their new assignments. And Sanemi is none too happy about yours.

A/N: nothing crazy going on here tbh. just some jealous lovesick sanemi. i didn't proofread because i'm lazy lmfaooooo

There’s a rage simmering in Sanemi’s chest, hot and threatening to boil over at any moment if he doesn’t find a way to calm down and quickly. Even with anger being Sanemi’s baseline emotion most days, he’s not sure he’s ever felt this incensed in his life. And try as he might, he just can’t seem to quell it.

The root cause shouldn’t be as big of a deal as it is, and yet it feels like it’s the end of the world. Like his world has just shifted and he has no control over what may happen next.

And it’s been this way since the Hashira gathering with the Mast- …Lady Amane, where he’d received probably the worst orders of his life. Since then, it’s taken everything in Sanemi to not blow the roof off of every single building on the estate.

-

“You’ll be dispatched to your assigned territories in pairs,” Lady Amane had spoken earlier in the evening. “This is for not only the protection of Nezuko, but for your own safety. Muzan is likely to go to extreme measures to get to the demon who has now conquered the sun. We have a better chance of success defeating Upper Moons if you are together.”

Sanemi disagreed. He didn’t need to be paired with anyone in order to do his job. He was a Hashira for fucks sake! If anything, they’d just be in his way. Why did he need to be paired with another Hashira on the off chance they ran until an Upper Moon? An insult, but if the Master deemed it necessary, there could be no argument.

“Understood,” Himejima spoke on everyone’s behalf. “Who is to be paired with whom, Lady Amane?”

“Please understand that these pairings are not given based on strength,” the small black-haired child beside Lady Amane began. “Shinobu will remain on estate grounds. Her tasks lie outside of combat.”

From Sanemi’s peripheral, he sees Shinobu nod.

“Himejima will also remain at the estate, tasked with guarding the Master’s quarters.”

The soft rattle of Himejima’s prayer beads sound throughout the space. And Sanemi imagines he must feel honored to be given such a heavy order. He’s jealous, but the idea of an Upper Moon coming from the depths to try and make their way to the Master, only to be met with Sanemi’s blade thrills him in ways he’s can’t explain.

“Now, to the pairings,” the child continues. “Muichiro and Shinazugawa.”

Sanemi and the child prodigy. He supposes he can’t be too upset, though Muichiro wouldn’t have been his preferred choice. The kid is strong, probably stronger than him, though Sanemi will never admit that aloud. No, he’s not mad at this pairing at all.

“Mitsuri and Obanai.”

The two share exchanged looks, Mitsuri red-faced, Obanai slinking further behind his mask if possible. Sanemi tries not to laugh. He’s certain Obanai is reeling from being paired up with the woman of his dreams. Once this meeting is over, he’ll have to give him all kinds of shit.

But now, Sanemi realizes with hardly concealed dread, that that leaves one particular dick head –

“Giyuu and –”

You.

The woman of Sanemi’s dreams.

Now that is a pairing that Sanemi can be mad about. His eyes cut sharply across the room, where you sit stiffly behind Muichiro, hands curled into fists on your thighs. You and Tomioka? Paired to be stationed somewhere far, far away from here? Together? Alone?

Tomioka, who Sanemi is 99.999% certain has feelings for you. Tomioka, who deems himself “not like the rest of them”, like he’s above you all somehow. Tomioka, despite not bothering to speak to any of the other Hashira, found himself to be rather close with you. Even with Sanemi’s clearly voiced disdain for him, you remain friends. Tomioka, who makes Sanemi’s anger intensify when he sees him glance over to you discreetly, and you glance back and fucking smile at him!

It’s small. So tiny, that if Sanemi wasn’t already so well-versed in every little mannerism you possess, he’d for sure have missed it.

But unfortunately for you and Tomioka, Sanemi is well-versed in every little mannerism you possess, every move, and every single sound you’re capable of making. He knows you in ways Tomioka fucking wishes he could know you. In ways that Tomioka will never fucking know you if Sanemi has any say in it.

But so much can happen in such a short time. Who’s to say that you won’t find yourself falling for the Water Hashira in an unlikely way? The same unlikely way you found yourself falling for the Wind Hashira, and him for you. It’s enough to make Sanemi’s entire body tense.

Violet eyes pierce repeatedly into the back of the Water Hashira’s head, Sanemi wishing he’d fall dead in front of his eyes, and stop fucking staring at you. His mind races with a million different ways to kill Tomioka. The thoughts are fleeting, really so brief, the temptation to lunge for Mitsuri’s sword and wrap it around Tomioka’s neck, ending Sanemi’s misery right then and there. But would it be worth all the trouble?

Unlikely…

Which is why Sanemi instead settles for staring hard daggers into the side of your skull. Poking and prodding, hoping you feel the immense weight of his gaze and stop looking at goddamned Tomioka and look at him!

“Look at me!” Sanemi screams internally. “Turn. Just turn this way! Turn your head and look over here! Stop fucking smiling at him! LOOK AT ME!!”

You don’t look at him, though, don’t dare meet his gaze.

And that has Sanemi seething.

But he doesn’t have time to dwell, because Lady Amane speaks and her tone demands everyone’s attention.

“Muichiro, Sanemi. You will leave in three days’ time. Mitsuri and Obanai. You will leave in two days’ time.”

A staggered dispatching of the Hashira. Sanemi has a bad feeling about this.

“Tomioka and ___. You will leave tonight.”

This just keeps getting worse.

-

Sanemi’s been glued to his spot among the Hashira since, sitting with his legs folded, eyes closed and arms crossed for ages in an attempt to meditate and shove the fury down as deep as it can go until it’s no longer affecting him. It’s pointless, it seems. Even the darkness he’s staring into behind his eyelids is starting to piss him off.

The reasonable part of Sanemi is telling him that there’s no reason to be upset. This is work! It’s not like you requested this partnership. It’s not as though you asked the Master if you and Tomioka could go on this mission together for God knows how long, doing God knows what in your down time together. It’s work for God’s sakes! You’re not running off to the beach and frollicking through the market with your fingers laced together. You’ll be potentially fighting for your fucking lives out there.

That’s it. Work. Nothing more.

But the unreasonable part of Sanemi is telling him he has every right to be pissed! He’s observed Tomioka’s behavior around you – annoyingly desperate for your attention, quickly yearning from across the room. It’s pathetic. Worse, Sanemi’s observed your behavior around Tomioka as well. Far too kind, far too friendly for Sanemi’s liking. And you know how he feels! 

Even with your reassurance that you harbor no romantic feelings for Tomioka, Sanemi just cannot stand the thought of you two traveling shoulder to shoulder together. It can’t happen! 

Riding the train and sitting beside each other while you take in and discuss the beautiful views? Unacceptable! 

Sharing meals together, waking up and greeting each other first thing in the morning. Telling each other goodnight before climbing into bed?

Sanemi wants to rip his hair straight from his scalp at the thought of how domestic it all seems.

His reasonable side calls to him again, tries to calm him.

‘They’ll be far too busy patrolling for demons and potentially fighting Upper Moons to care about any of that.’

And somehow, that makes it all worse for him.

Sanemi would love nothing more than to lay down his life in front of you, for you if needed while facing an Upper Moon. He’d relish in standing back-to-back with you while raising your blades and bringing them down on any demon who stands in your way – together. You and him. You and Sanemi. Not you and Tomioka Giyuu.

With a sigh, Sanemi’s eyes open. All of the Hashira remain gathered in a circle, discussing the details of today’s meeting. Himejima drones on about whatever. Who really gives a fuck? Sanemi can’t be bothered. Not when you still haven’t taken even a second to look his way. 

And the rage continues to burn hot. He’s not getting any less angry.

‘Or jealous,’ his mind mocks.

The softness of the sunset peeks through the room’s windows, and it’s only a reminder that soon you’ll be on your way with Tomioka. And if things wind up going left, it could be the last time Sanemi ever sees you. It’s a thought that has Sanemi grinding his teeth, hard and loud enough that he’s grabbed Obanai’s attention, his elbow digging into Sanemi’s ribs.

The loud hiss that comes from Sanemi’s lips grabs Himejima’s attention, pausing his spiel.

“Hmm,” the monk hums. “Perhaps here is a fine place to stop. We will resume discussions at the next meeting.”

The Hashira stand, and Sanemi watches as each pairing finds each other. He’s grateful that Muichiro isn’t the small talk type because he simply murmurs that he will meet Sanemi at the destination and takes his leave. Obanai has found Mitsuri and he lets her do what she does best – talk his ear off. Himejima and Shinobu are both speaking quietly away from the rest of the group.

And you…Sanemi’s eyes find you, staring back at him finally. Your eyes are sad, a small smile holding an apology on your lips. Is it because you’ll be gone in the morning and will likely not have a moment to see him? Maybe. But there’s something else in your gaze, though Sanemi can’t quite place it. 

Then there’s Tomioka, who without fail, is heading towards you. You don’t see him, your eyes locked on to Sanemi’s. And he can’t imagine not having at least one last conversation before you go your separate ways for what could be the final time. He can’t have that.

Tomioka gets closer, and it makes Sanemi move, makes him remember that the clock is ticking. It won’t wait for him, and the more he stands here brooding, the closer you are to being out of his reach.

His feet carry him across the room, fast and long strides quickly closing the distance. Your eyes widen when you see him approaching, still not aware that Tomioka is also closing the gap, and when you finally do it’s too late.

Your name falls from Tomioka’s lips. The sound makes Sanemi’s jaw clench tight.

“I was hoping we could –”

Sanemi snatches your wrist, the yelp you let out cutting off the Water Hashira. Blue eyes take in the sight before him; you wide eyed and surprised. Sanemi, wide eyed and murderous.

“Fuck off, Tomioka,” Sanemi snarls, the venom dripping from every word. “We’re talking.”

His stupid, nonchalant demeanor drives Sanemi insane. He’s not the least bit affected by Sanemi’s tone.

“Yes, but–”

“No buts. I said fuck…” Sanemi’s voice lowers into a menacing whisper. “Off…”

You quickly shift between the two men, your hand coming up to land on Tomioka’s shoulder and Sanemi is really about ready to lose his shit. “I’ll meet you at the gates in a few hours, okay? I’ll send my crow for you.”

Tomioka’s eyes drift down to your hands where Sanemi still grips onto your wrist. Then they slide up to his face, where Sanemi’s lip curls up into a snarl. But you seem calm, unaffected even. So Tomioka simply tells you he will see you soon, and takes his leave.

The other Hashira still linger, pissing Sanemi off with their presence.

“Come with me,” he demands, and you nod.

“Not here, though.”

-

There’s hardly any sun left when you lead Sanemi to the small alleyway beside the building. It’s dark and quiet enough for you two to speak without interruption. Once alone, Sanemi pins your wrist to the wall, his face so close you can feel his breaths fanning against your face.

“What’s wrong with you?” He wastes no time getting to the point. “You get assigned to a mission with Tomioka and suddenly I’m invisible…”

You roll your eyes, because as always, you find him to be dramatic. And maybe he is being dramatic, but he can’t seem to find a fuck to give when you’re so close to leaving. 

“Oh, so you want to be out there with Tomioka, then?”

“Sanemi…” you whisper calmly.

He shakes his head. “No, don’t Sanemiiii me. I saw you at the meeting earlier, smiling at Tomioka when you found out you’d be sent off halfway across the country to do who knows what,” Sanemi hisses. “No objections from you?”

You scoff, snatching your hand from his hold. “We’re going halfway across the country to work, Sanemi.” Your hands settle on his bare chest and Sanemi has to stop his eyes from fluttering shut. “What should I have done? Refusing Lady Amane’s orders would be the same as refusing the Masters. I am not doing that just because you’re throwing a jealous fit over Giyuu. As always.”

“I am not…” he grumbles, “throwing a fit.”

At this, you snort, and the sound makes Sanemi soften. Only by a fraction.

“I just…” He pauses, hands coming to rest on your hips and his anger melts away finally, because that’s how it always is with you. The moment he’s able to touch you, feel you the way he desires, all turmoil disappears. 

“...hate Giyuu?” You finish his sentence for him, and Sanemi rolls his eyes, sighing.

“Not as much as I fucking hate you calling him by his first name like that,” he grumbles, leaning forward so that his face is nuzzled against your shoulder.

“I call everyone by their first name, you dummy.”

It’s true. But it only annoys Sanemi when it’s his name falling from your lips.

“He wants you, you know?  Potential life or death mission with a beautiful woman?” His voice lowers, grip on your hips squeezing hard, but not enough to hurt. “Probably thinks this is his perfect chance to make a move, that fucker.”

You shake your head, lips pursing together. “He doesn’t. And he wouldn’t.”

“He does. And he would. I mean, I would. I did.”

“That’s different!” You chuckle softly. “Giyuu…He–” you stop yourself, hands coming up to rub at your temples. “Why am I even arguing with you about this?!”

Because Sanemi hates that you’re leaving and that you’re leaving with Tomioka! And he hates that you and Tomioka are friends, that you call him by his first name with such affection it makes Sanemi’s skin crawl. He hates that you can’t see what Sanemi does when Tomioka looks at you. And he hates the idea of you potentially coming back in love with Tomioka and tossing Sanemi aside!

It seems so stupid when he spells it out in his head like this, but it’s how he feels. He’s not going to apologize for it.

“I don’t like it,” He mutters. “He has some weird secret crush on you and I hate seeing the way he looks at you. Like if you let him, he’ll ask you to marry him on the spot.” You chuckle at this, and Sanemi’s lips turn down with a scowl. “It’s not funny! Tomioka would love nothing more than to build you a pretty little house and have babies and shit. Fucking freak probably dreams about it. I can tell because–”

Because Sanemi would love nothing more than to do those exact things.

He feels the tension radiating off of you in an instant, his eyes falling onto your hands that are now rubbing absentmindedly along his scars. There’s a strange change in your demeanor. Like you’re nervous about something. Is just the mention of marriage and a house with kids so off putting? Perhaps you’re not interested. Or maybe you are interested, and you’re interested in having that with…

With Tomioka, is what Sanemi wants to add. But he thinks it better not to when he sees the look on your face. Quiet, thoughtful, maybe even a little sad.

“Sanemi…we need to talk.”

You feel his lips against your skin, turning down into a scowl. Then he’s pulling away to look at your face. “Not loving the sound of that.”

Your eyes find his, adjusting to the slow darkness creeping into the space. It’s only for a second before you’re looking away again.

“I–” Your voice trembles. “I feel like I need to tell you something.”

Fuck.

You do want that…and with Tomioka?! He should have known. The signs were right there in front of him

“I fucking knew it…”

“Knew what?”

He chuckles, dryly and with absolutely no humor. “That you want Tomioka. Or, excuse me, Giyuu.” He spits the Water Hashira’s name out like it’s bitter. He knows he sure is. “That’s why you were so fucking smiley when you got your orders, right?”

Sanemi steps back, just out of your reach and begins pacing, truly trying not to take it upon himself to bring the Hashira count down by one. Really, who’d miss Tomioka anyway? He sure fucking wouldn’t.

“Stop, that’s not it at all!”

“Oh, then what is it?!” He barks, then inhales deeply to try and calm himself, though he knows it will be pointless. Still, he lowers his voice. “You two have been making eyes at each other all goddamn day. You couldn’t even look at me after you got your orders.” He stares you down now, feet rooted in place.

“I’m trying to tell you that–”

“That you’re done with this? That why Tomioka’s over there shooting you encouraging smiles? Rushing over to you after the meeting?”

“No, he’s–”

“Because you need the pep talk to give you the courage to break this off, huh? Didn’t expect such a cowardly move from you.”

Sanemi can’t see it, but your hands ball into fists at your side, about two seconds from strangling him.

“Sanemi…” Your tone is a warning that he chooses to ignore.

“Oh, I bet you can’t fucking wait to run off into the sunset with that fucking wet rag.”

“I’m trying to –”

“And Tomioka, oh I just know he’s at home packing and imagining this amazing future you two are obviously planning to build together. It’s so –”

“Will you shut up?!” Your voice screeches, cutting through Sanemi’s rant like a sharp blade. “For the love of God! I’m trying to tell you that I was paired with Giyuu for a reason! It’s not because we’re planning to run away together. It’s not because I love him…well, I love him, but only as a friend –”

Sanemi’s lips open to speak, surely to argue about the love part but you hold up a finger and he quickly shuts his mouth. You pick up where you left off, voice shakily trying to get this out.

“The Master paired me up with Giyuu for this mission that could very well be my last because not only am I fucking terrified of what the future holds…” You inhale deeply, steeling yourself. “...but I’m also pregnant, Sanemi.”

Your wide eyes stare at him, the fear loud and clear in your dilated pupils. And his expression matches yours.

There’s silence. Long, drawn out. Loud.

What can he say? This was definitely not how he was expecting this conversation to go.

“You’re…” Sanemi’s rough voice shatters the quiet between you. His feet drag him forward, bring him closer until he’s standing chest to chest with you again.

You swallow hard, watery eyes locked onto the man before you. “...pregnant.”

He drops to his knees, not caring about the way the gravel digs painfully into his flesh, not caring how pathetic he may look to any passerby, not caring about anything except you. You and… 

His strong arms loop around your waist, pulling you to him until his cheek is pressed to your belly. You can feel his breath, ragged and quick against the fabric of your uniform, and you let that be the only sound for who knows how long until Sanemi speaks again.

“You’re with child…my…child?” His head tilts back, cheek still resting against your abdomen until his eyes meet yours. And you see it.

Fear. Raw, unfiltered fear.

It’s such a strange emotion to see on the face of the Wind Hashira. Known for facing any and all challenges head on without hesitation and coming out on top, you now see a look that is unfamiliar to you. Even when it’s just the two of you, you don’t know Sanemi to fear anything. But you do what you know to do when he needs comfort. Your fingers find his hair, slipping into the surprisingly soft tresses where you comb through soothingly. His eyes drift shut and he leans into your touch.

“Yes.” It’s a whisper. So soft, you’re not sure Sanemi’s heard. But when he inhales sharply, you know he has. “That’s why I’ve been given this pairing and station.”

Sanemi shakes his head, confused. He doesn’t understand what the pairing with Tomioka has to do with anything. Just that you heading to the front lines is out of the question. He mutters your name softly, then peers up at you with pleading eyes. “You…you can’t go into battle with child.”

“This is why I didn’t want to tell you. I didn’t want you to worry,” you answer, as though you can read his mind. Your voice trembles, and Sanemi can feel the splash of fallen tears against his cheek. Not his own.

He rises to his feet, his rough hands cupping your face and swiping away the moisture on your cheeks. Your hands hold onto his forearms, and he bends to press a soft kiss to your wrists. He sees your lip quivering, hears your quiet sniffles and his lips find yours. The kisses are feather light, but just the touch of his mouth against yours opens the floodgates, and you’re soon sobbing into Sanemi’s mouth.

He holds you while your body shakes with sobs, lets you press your hands against his chest again, dig your nails painfully into his skin until he’s gritting his teeth. Sanemi cannot imagine what you feel.

“We can speak to the Master. Or…Lady Amane,” Sanemi suggests quietly, holding you closer if possible.

“We can’t. These are orders from the Master himself.”

“He can’t do this,” he insists softly, quietly. Even he is a little afraid that someone will hear what he’s suggesting. To go against the Master…well, it’s highly frowned upon. 

“He’s doing what’s right…for now. Even Giyuu is kind enough to be escorting me away from the fight that’s sure to come.” You seem to have calmed down, voice a bit steadier now as you pull away from Sanemi to peer up at him. 

“I’m scared, Sanemi. I want…you. I want a life that’s not tainted by fear. And to do that, I have to fight. But if I fight and develop the mark, or if you die, we will be leaving this baby as an orphan.” 

Right. A condition of the mark – certain death. One that Sanemi, under no circumstance is willing to let you or your child suffer through.

“Not to mention,” you continue. “If I die in battle in my current condition, we…” You take Sanemi’s hand in yours, press it to your belly. “We will die…”

Another scenario Sanemi is not willing to let happen.

“I want to defeat Muzan so that we can finally have peace. So that we can be together without worrying constantly over what’s lurking in the darkness. Or if our child will be able to have a normal childhood and life. I want to live with you. I want to fall asleep and wake up in your arms. I want to spend our days as a family and…” You wipe at your eyes, tears threatening to spill again. “Everything is so uncertain now and I just–”

Your words die on your tongue when Sanemi’s lips crash into yours. He kisses you hungrily, swallowing every sob and whimper you have to offer. Partly because he wants to kiss away any pain, and partly because he’s damn near ready to cry himself.

It’s not fair.

This world is not fair.

“I don’t want you to worry about this, anymore,” Sanemi orders. “Take your leave. Protect yourself.” He kisses you again, tenderly this time, though his next words don’t match his actions. “And don’t die.”

Yes, everything is uncertain right now. Yes, there’s no way to know what the future holds for either of you or your unborn child. Yes, life is terrifying. There is much to be scared about. But Sanemi knows one thing for certain.

You must live. He must live. That child must live.

And Kibutsuji Muzan…whether he knows it or not, has just had his fate sealed.

Because Sanemi will do everything in his power to make sure that by the time this child comes to be, Muzan is long dead.

[bloodpraxis]

The Rogue Trader and her Death Cult Assassin Bodyguard, Shadow, Blade... and possibly more...

While doing this piece a thought just occurred to me... Pairing my Noble!RT with Kibellah is basically the "bodyguard romance" trope found in countless ye olde romance novels... I wonder if Cassia had read one like that...

Bonus (some fluff ^w^) ⤵

A dark, looming figure often accompanies the Lord Captain, and no, it's not one of those two repulsive xenos that the Rogue Trader has taken in as pet... This woman dons the regalia of the flagship's death cult - the Bloodspun Web, covered in purity seals and more often than not, to the High Factotum and his exotic pelt rug's dismay, dripping in blood. Rumour has it, even when you could not see her with your naked eyes, she's still there, eyes peeled, watching over the Rogue Trader and ready to dispatch any threats to her Domin's life.

Where the Rogue Trader goes, she follows. Nothing is off limits when it comes to security, so don't act surprise when you find the Spinner stationed in the Lord Captain's private chambers. Scared the grox shit out of the Master of Ablution more than once with that vanishing-then-appears-out-of-void-knows-where act. Still, it is useful, when perils of the wrap manifest on board during the long travels through Immaterium. There has been more than one incident where those daemons spawn its damned self right inside the Lord Captain's chamber.

Small wonder why none dares to try for her Ladyship's affections, when such terrifying figure is right next to her every waking moment. Truly, it must be lonely on top.

Hmmm... Unless...

[neiptune]

so long as you're still you and i'm still me

cw: 5k wc, female hashira reader, mention of wounds, scars, trauma, in my heart of hearts this is a continuation of rain is back luck but you can also read it separately. you and sanemi are not exactly friends and not exactly lovers but when you disappear completely after a mission gone particularly wrong he finally musters the courage to pay you a visit

Sanemi sits on his knees, sharp eyes focused on his master as he details the latest missions every hashira is to be dispatched on. The tatami feels oddly soft under his legs, unstable and undulating like a boat lost at sea. Almost pulpy. Is the floor about to swallow him?

He blinks, sternly ordering himself to snap out of it. Ubuyashiki is talking but he can’t quite hear what he’s saying, the one sound drowning out every other noise a low buzz that fills his ears as his lavender gaze slips to his left again.

Empty. No one’s been sitting between him and Shinobu for the past two months.

His fingers twitch in his lap, Kanroji’s melodious pitch somehow cutting through the vacuum of muffled sounds of a world he can’t perceive right.

And then, suddenly, Ubuyashiki says your name. Sanemi blinks, certain his mind is playing tricks on him, but his master is truly describing… a mission?

“What?”, it’s not something he does, interrupt Oyakata-sama. It’s not something anyone does.

“Yes, Sanemi?”, yet, he turns to him with a gentle smile.

“I apologize, master. Did you just say… she’s been on a mission?”.

“Several missions, in fact”, Ubuyashiki nods, “as soon as she could stand, hold her blade again. I insisted she’d take more time to recover, Shinobu did too, but you know how she is”.

“Stubborn”, Kocho murmurs. It sounds like an apology but, as he fists the fabric of his pants until his knuckles turn white, Sanemi can’t bring himself to care.

When the meeting ends, a few pillars decide to stay at the estate for a while longer, to indulge in the warm tea Amane-sama serves. He’s always, without fail, among the first ones to leave but this particular afternoon he believes a cup of tea might help him clear his mind. If the hands holding the yunomi will stop shaking, that is.

“Wanna share your burdens, Shinazugawa?”, Tengen’s sarcastic pitch makes a vein on his temple throb.

“Fuck off”.

“Uzui”, Rengoku’s admonishment is affable but firm.

“I think we should just talk about it, since he clearly won’t”, the giant idiot sitting across from him shrugs, “did anyone besides Shinobu go on a mission with her?”.

“I did not go on a mission with her”, Kocho corrects him, patient, “I just know she didn’t want to stay in bed any longer. She let me treat her wounds but only right after it happened, I haven’t seen her in almost two months”, she catches Sanemi’s gaze as she speaks and he holds hers. Rage dissolves, it stops gripping the tissue that attaches muscle to bone and he finally feels like he can move his limbs again.

“’Kay”, Tengen clicks his tongue, “well, I tried visiting”.

“We all did”, Obanai, the only one staying despite not drinking tea, speaks quietly.

“She never comes out. Only speaks behind closed doors and it’s mostly to tell us to leave”, Mitsuri’s voice trembles.

“Tokito was the only one she came out for”, Iguro pushes, “but he doesn’t remember”.

“Shinazugawa-san”, Shinobu tilts her head to the side, “you stayed at my estate day and night, for over a week. But then… did you ever try?”.

Sanemi exhales but it comes out like a hiss.

“Why the hell would you think I didn’t-”

“When was the last time you went?”.

“Shortly after she left the butterfly estate”.

Mitsuri’s shocked gasp echoes across the quiet room.

“Two months ago?”.

Sanemi glares at her.

“Yes. I gave her space, you don’t really want someone at your door every day after shit like that happens”.

“Two months? What the fuck kinda space is that? I bet she thinks you forgot about her”, Uzui speaks with the cup pressed to his lips. Convenient, since Sanemi is getting closer and closer to knocking his teeth out.

“Shut the fuck up, Tengen”, the stern warning only makes the sound hashira grin.

“Think about it, she may be believing all she was to you was an easy relief provider…”.

“I’m fucking warning you”, Sanemi’s hand closes around the hilt of his nichirin, “another goddamn word and I’ll slit your throat open”.

Uzui’s sarcastic expression morphs into something real, something serious.

“Good. So you can still man up, after all. Fucking go talk to her”.

“That’s not your decision to make, you assho-”

“Enough”, Rengoku heaves a deep sigh as he glares at both parties, “the point is, we’re all worried. And we all care. If despite what she went through she can still honor her oath as a pillar, I believe we owe it to her to keep trying. She’s my comrade and my friend, I won’t leave her alone”.

Sanemi deflates in his seat, the hand clutching his blade relaxes. Kyojuro’s fiery, determined gaze makes him feel so insignificant.

“Shinazugawa-san”, when Rengoku speaks again, his tone is gentle, “please help us remind her she’s not alone. She holds deep affection for you”.

Deep affection. Well, that’s a way to describe it, he thinks.

Truth is, Sanemi doesn’t know what you actually feel for him. Hell, he doesn’t know what he feels half of the time. When he refused to leave the butterly estate as long as you lied there unconscius and bloodied, he remembers feeling dread. When was the last time he got scared, felt actual fear? He’s afraid every time Genya leaves for a mission, holds his breath and refuses to release it until his brother is back. But you? You’re a pillar. He can’t be scared for you or it’ll mess with his head, it’ll remind him that their talent and power can both succumb to destiny far too easily. Their lives are always tied to the fragile thread of luck and yours almost, almost got severed.

He wonders if you felt the same panic when he was the one injured, that time he almost didn’t make it. Sanemi remembers the way you failed to control your breathing, the tenderness enveloping his heart at the sight of your shaky hands and rain-soaked hair. Through gritted teeth you admitted how scared you got, how worried. You’re brave. He isn’t. Once he knew you’d make it, Sanemi left. He paid you one visit, then disappeared with the excuse of wanting to give you time to recover.

He couldn’t have anticipated this, your stubborn disappearance. Time went on and despite the anxiety gripping his heart day and night, he convinced himself you were fine. He told himself you didn’t need him. He waited for your friends to make you better, to help you bring your usual self back. But you just resisted and pushed everyone away and Sanemi doesn’t think he’d make a difference anymore because why would he? You spent a few nights in his futon and that was it. Why would you need him of all people to talk some sense into that obstinate head of yours?

Dwelling on all this, using the excuse of being annoyed at how infuriating you’re being, is far easier than admitting the truth. Concern is eating away at his sanity and, hell, he misses you. He’s scared to face what that fight did to you, how different you are now. Gods know how his trauma changed him.

“Sanemi”, Iguro gently bumps his shoulder against his, “let’s go together”.

“No”, he gets up, tea left unfinished and cold in his cup, “I’ll go alone”.

It only starts raining once he arrives at your estate but he still finds it ironic.

There’s no one around and the place looks barely inhabited: he has faint memories of your lively messiness, teacups and books and snacks everywhere, especially when you had guests. You liked having guests. Mostly from the corps but also Shinobu’s girls, villagers, other pillars. Genya. You’d ask them to come over and you’d make tea for them, cook, sometimes a bottle of sake would be passed around (especially if Tengen or his wives were present).

Sanemi never came by a lot, he’d pay brief visits from time to time, mainly to check on his brother or take a tipsy Obanai home. You were the one always passing by his estate. You’d ask him to be your sparring partner, you’d drop by to leave some homemade ohagi, you’d let him undress you at night. You liked when he was gentle and he liked when you were vulnerable, none of the usual burning quips you’d exchange once the moon would go down. You’d find release in something other than banter and then wake up to a new day of pretending neither of you cared about the other enough to address whatever feelings were tied to something that was supposed to be easy. Uncomplicated.

Something that wasn’t supposed to make Sanemi think of you at night, itch to kiss you, have your fingers gently run through his hair. He wasn’t supposed to be wondering where you were, how you were, when on a mission. He definitely wasn’t supposed to ask his master to pair him up with you, not while being fully aware of how willing he’d be to sacrifice his life to keep you out of harm’s way.

You’d look at him in a way that made dangerous thoughts take shape in his mind, you’d make him feel like more than what he was willing to be. Thoughtful, tender, hopeful. You’d articulate his name like no one else, make it sound special, like a melody.

Oh, Sanemi.

Sanemi, promise me you’ll be careful.

Sanemi!

Sa-ne-mi.

Shinazugawa is your usual go to but if you’re worried, if you’re scared, if he makes you exceptionally mad or provides the pleasure you’re seeking, it’s always Sanemi.

You make him want to give you everything, more than relief, more than a life where each day of being alive feels like a luxury.

“It’s me”, he gruffly announces himself, listens to the way his voice echoes across the empty entrance.

Sanemi gingerly shuffles to the shoji doors of your bedroom and sits on his heels once more, hands closed on his knees. He knows you’re there, he knows you can hear him. He hopes his absence didn’t weigh too heavy, although with all the shit you’re going through he sincerely doubts you spared him a single thought.

“We had a meeting today. I guess you already know, your crow was there”, Sanemi takes a deep breath, “you’ve been going on missions. Yet you refuse to be seen”.

A statement. Where is he even going with that? He doesn’t have a speech ready, words never come easily to him and anxiety makes his rough edges even sharper.

“Everyone’s worried about you, even that asshole Tengen lectured me. So I’m here. You can’t live in that room forever, come out”.

He could very well open the doors himself, barge in, but he wouldn’t dare. He may be crass with words but he’s still respectful of your boundaries.

“Oi, did you hear me? I said, come out. Hiding won’t solve shit, you should know better”.

Sanemi waits for a few seconds. Nothing, besides the drumming of the torrential rain against your roof. He groans.

“Can you fucking at least say something? Tap on the goddamn floor, one tap yes, two taps no?”, he raises his voice, “are you even listening to me?”.

He pauses again, muscles tense. Right as he begins to ponder about whether he should break through the stupid doors after all, he hears a faint thump. And then two more.

The sudden uptick in his heartbeat is nothing short of pathetic.

“Three…? What does that mean?”.

“Go away”.

It fills his lungs with relief, the way your voice sounds the same. He hasn’t heard it in two months, it’s a little hoarse, but it’s you.

“I’m not going anywhere. Come out”.

“Fuck off”.

The corners of his mouth relax into a soft smile.

“Tell that to my face, coward”.

“You can tell Tengen you fulfilled your bothersome duty. Now leave”.

Sanemi sharply inhales through his nose. Yeah, he should’ve guessed that’d be the one thing you’d fixate on.

“Don’t be a fucking idiot”.

And by the way, when did you even start addressing that dumbass so casually?

It’s silent again, which makes one of his brows twitch.

“Oi. Stop being stupid, I’m serious”.

No sign of life. Fucking hell.

Sanemi shuts his eyes, relaxes his shoulders. He thinks of what it must’ve been like for the past months, being so lonely. You never enjoyed being on your own, one time you confessed that being with other people helped keep your fears at bay. He remembers your hushed voice, tender, vulnerable, and how he pulled you closer in the darkness of his bedroom.

You must’ve hurt a lot. Clumsily treated wounds that only a professional like Shinobu should’ve checked, probably spent entire nights wide awake, nightmares chasing you whenever your body would give out to exhaustion. A self-imposed seclusion that added on to your physical pain and yet you still refused to abandon your duty as a pillar.

“I should’ve been here”, he says, voice low, barely a murmur, “I should’ve checked on you every day. I told myself I was giving you space but it was a bunch of bullshit. I just wasn’t brave enough to come”, he pauses to clear his throat. “I’m sorry. I don’t think you needed me, or maybe you did, either way I need to know you’re okay. Whether you come out or not, I’ll be here. I’ll come every chance I get, hell, maybe I won’t leave until my next mission. Just talk to me, from time to time. Or tap on the floor again. Whatever you want”.

Sanemi attempts to swallow the lump in his throat before speaking again.

“Who gives a shit about Uzui? I’m not here for him. You know why I’m here, despite how bad I am at showing it”.

He listens to his own breathing in the quiet of your house, relaxes the fingers that were once again gripping the fabric of his pants. Part of him is comforted by the fact that you’re fine enough to go on missions but it’s a comfort that pales before the sense of guilt he feels for having lost so much time. Perhaps it’s presumptuous to believe you needed him in the first place but he realizes it hardly matters now. He failed to remind you he’d be there for you, whether you wanted someone to be there for you or not. All he had to do was show up and he refused to do that. His life is such a broken record of wrong choices, it makes him sick.

And then, suddenly, incredibly, the shoji doors of your bedroom slide open. He looks up but doesn’t get the chance to meet your gaze because you don’t linger there, but instead walk to the low table you always enjoyed having so many people sitting around. Sanemi observes the way you carefully sit on your heels and, even if you never turn to look at him, he understands it’s a quiet invitation. His heart is beating loud in his ears when he rises from the tatami floor, legs once again unstable as he shuffles to where you’re sitting. He doesn’t sit across from you, as he usually would. Instead, he stays close enough for his thigh to be almost pressed against yours.

“Hi”, you say, and it sounds so delicate, so frail, it breaks his heart.

“Hi”, he says back, quiet and hopeful. Sanemi meets your gaze, through the one eye that is not covered in bandages the way your neck, half your face, arms are. Your yukata is loose enough for him to see that your chest is wrapped in bandages as well.

“Are those still necessary?”, he asks, well aware of what the real answer is.

You shake your head no.

“Can I see?”, Sanemi’s voice isn’t but a murmur, “don’t hide from me”.

“There’s nothing to see. I look hideous”, you’re quiet too, left eye uncharacteristically dull.

“Don’t say that”.

“It’s true. I can’t look at myself anymore”.

His chest aches. It’s a feeling he hasn’t felt in a long time but he remembers it with shattering clarity. Events taking his sense of self away from him, the inability to recognize his reflection in the mirror. A Sanemi Shinazugawa that belonged to the past and couldn’t be brought back no matter how hard he tried.

“Let me?”, he lightly grazes one of the bandages covering your wrist. It’s a plea, more than a request.

Your gaze shifts to him and somehow softens. You wish to extend the moment in time in which Sanemi is looking at you like this because it will hardly ever happen again.

With a small nod, you give him permission and his heart swells. This isn’t something you’d trust just anyone with, the fact that you’re willing to let him of all people see you, actually see you, carries the most special meaning in the world. His world, at least.

He’s the most gentle he’s ever been as he carefully unwraps the bandages. Sanemi can’t help the way his jaw tenses at every scar he uncovers: they’re everywhere. You’re covered in them. Some are part of the natural healing process after your skin was cut so deeply, so many times, others are the result of poorly stitched wounds you certainly handled yourself.

You tremble underneath his touch and he so badly wants to take your hand, kiss each knuckle to calm you. To ground you. To promise that it’s okay, it really is.

Still, Sanemi is not prepared for the sight of your lost right eye. It’s still open but with an unnatural, opaque milkiness to the pupil and iris. This side of your face has been clearly lacerated as well, one particular scar turning the corner of your lips slightly downwards.

You’re looking at him with a gaze that is daring, incandescent with quivering dignity. He knows what you’re thinking: I told you, happy now? I was right. Hideous. Now you can see it too.

“Can I touch you?”.

“No”, you whisper.

Sanemi exhales slowly when you start crying. You never allowed him to see you cry, he’d sometimes hear faint sobs when you’d hide at the butterfly estate, after a mission or before a meeting, but this is the first time he’s witnessing your pain in such a raw way.

“I’m so ashamed”, you hiccup, take your face in your shaky hands, “so many of our comrades are dead, innocent people are killed every day. Fuck, maybe soon I’ll be dead too. And this is what I’m upset about, my appearance. But I can’t help it, you know? I tried. I really tried. It’s just so hard, I look like a monster”.

“Is that what you see when you look at me?”.

Your head snaps up and the sight of your cheeks, wet with fresh tears, makes his stomach clench.

“Of course not. It’s different!”.

“How is it different?”.

You sniffle, then gesture vaguely with one hand.

“You’re a man. Your scars are proof of how strong you are, how valiant. On me? They’re just a reminder of my weakness. They’re ugly, I’m ugly. Something ruined. I wish they could’ve just killed me that day, I wish Gyomei didn’t-”

“Don’t fucking say that”, Sanemi hears his own voice vibrate with rage, “you’re not weak and if anyone ever dares imply that I’ll stick my blade through their neck. You’re strong and brave and a survivor. We all are. I’m looking at you right now and I just see you. I’m so fucking relieved, actually, because I still get to see you. Not a thing and definitely not a ruined thing. You’re still you and you’re still here and you’re allowed to feel shitty about it but what the hell. I’m here too and I won’t let you face this alone”.

He leans in closer when you don’t reply and refuse to meet his eyes, shoulders rising and falling rhythmically as you keep crying.

“Can I touch you?”, Sanemi asks again, slowly, carefully, but more determined.

Instead of replying, you place you head on his shoulder and nuzzle further into his neck when he wraps his arms around you with a relieved sigh.

Sanemi lets you shake, lets you wet his haori and grip it like your life depends on it. He whispers sweet reassurances in your ear, kisses the crown of your head, does everything in his power to stop himself from crying with you. It’s surprisingly hard, witnessing one of the most resilient fighters he’s ever met, crumble in his arms. While his inability to do anything to make it better is what makes it so difficult, what really surprises him to the point of almost choking on his own tears is the fondness he’s able to hold you, reassure you with.

Sanemi can’t remember the last time he allowed himself to be the old version of him so openly, the one he thought he had successfully buried with his mother and siblings so long ago. He didn’t know it still existed fiercely enough to manifest in broad, knowing daylight but of course you’d be the one he’d be willing to lay it bare for. He’d give you every part of himself, so long as you asked.

The pads of his fingers delicately skim across your arm under the sleeve of your yukata, then caress your wrist, rise to the side of your neck. The fibrous tissue feels familiar and foreign under his touch, it’s different than his own, more painful.

The agony etched across your beautiful features doesn’t subside, not even when he carefully traces your jaw with his thumb as he delicately holds you. He hates that this happened to you. Selfishly, he hates it. Even if he knows slayers, pillars, masters, aren’t above suffering or grief. Why would they be? They’re not special. They’re not better than any civilian. And yet, Sanemi’s rage for what happened to you could burn down villages.

“I wish it was me”, he says and he means it. He doesn’t say the worse thing, doesn’t voice the terrible thought actually swirling in his furious mind.

I wish it was someone else. Anyone but you.

You lean into his touch and idly shake your head.

“You’re already handsome enough. Gotta stop at some point”.

Sanemi can’t bring himself to chuckle as he usually would, he barely manages to let out a huff of air through his nose. But you cracked a joke and it’s enough to momentarily placate the enraged beast floundering in his chest.

“Come stay at my estate”, his thumbs skate over the skin underneath your eyes to brush off what wetness remains, “just for a while. I’ll send away all the helpers”.

You’re similar to him in more ways than he’d like you to be and Sanemi knows you’ll hesitate. Because you don’t remember how to let someone take care of you.

“I can’t”. 

“Yes, you can”.

“What difference would it make?”, you chuckle bitterly, “I’ll still look disgusting, whether at my estate or yours”.

Sanemi gently bumps his forehead against yours.

“I’ll let you plant those flowers you always ramble about, the ones that’d look good by the gate or whatever”.

“Damask roses?”, you attempt a smile and he swears his lungs start expanding once more as they get their fill of oxygen.

“Whatever you want”, he softly runs his index finger over the bridge of your nose, “we’ll have breakfast together, I’ll run you baths. I’ll wait for you to come back from missions and you’ll wait for me. Does that sound so bad?”.

You hum as he keeps exploring your face with gentle touches. You let him. He’s too much of a coward to just kiss you but hopes his hands, the pads of his fingers, are getting the message across. You could never look disgusting. You’re everything I want to look at, the one person I hope to always see. I’m so lucky I still get to see you.

“I’ll come”, you whisper, “if Genya comes too”.

Sanemi heaves a deep sigh. Gods forbid you stop thinking about other people’s feelings even for a moment.

“Pushing it”.

“You’re actually denying me right now, Sanemi?”.

Ah, there it is. The premise of every single one of his downfalls.

“Genya can visit. He can come but he won’t stay”.

You scoff.

“Fine”.

“Good”.

He guides you to him once again, with a hand that cradles the back of your neck. Sanemi rests his chin on your head as he strokes your hair and you sigh softly, the puff of warm air so close to his throat.

“Shinazugawa accepting guests. I feel pretty special”, you murmur, humorless.

“Don’t let it go to your head, I just like your ohagi”.

“Really?”, you click your tongue, “I’ll spit in my next ones, then”.

He smirks.

“Bold of you to assume that would deter me from eating them”.

There’s a pause, one he doesn’t give much meaning to as he keeps absentmindedly stroking your hair. But then he feels it, the way you tense against him and under his touch. When you pull back to fix him with an uncertain look, he fears he already said something wrong.

“What?”, it comes out gruff, watchful.

You hesitate for a second, then let your shoulders drop.

“You know, I wouldn’t mind if…”, another pause, then you take a deep breath, “it’s okay if you find someone else. For relief, I mean. Don’t feel pressured to… like, it wouldn’t make me upset or anything. You can bring them to your estate too, I’ll just find myself somewhere else to be for a while, it’s-”

Sanemi gently but firmly presses his thumb to your mouth, one hand cradling your jaw again and tilting your head up, to make sure you look at him.

“I already told you”, he lets his thumb follow the curve of you bottom lip, “to stop being a fucking idiot”.

You shake your head.

“And I’m asking you to consider that you’re a normal man with normal needs”.

“I am. I need you to shut up”.

“You don’t understand. I might not be able to let someone see me, touch me like that, ever again. Not even you”, you lean forward to press your forehead against his shoulder because there’s only so much courage you can rely on while facing that violet gaze, especially when filled to the brim with weird adoration you can’t interpret the right way.

“I don’t care”, he murmurs. Then, much softer than you’d expect, “we go beyond that”.

It’s weird, hearing him say that. It makes your heart flutter against against your ribs because in no way you wished to imply you are important enough that he’d have to consider your feelings or whatever, in case he wanted to seek relief elsewhere. It’s his right to, as it’d be your right to.

The last thing you want is for him of all people to hold back out of pity. You can’t imagine any man finding you desirable anymore, anyway. It’s pretty easy to come to terms with that. But you wouldn’t be able to tolerate the idea of Sanemi depriving himself of a normal life, whatever normal would look like for you all anyway, because of poor, debilitated you.

“It’s not fair, being stuck with me. Don’t do that to yourself”, you whisper into the fabric of his haori. He scoffs.

“You know what’s not fair? How much of a dumbass you’re being”.

You pull back with a scowl.

“I’m serious, Sanemi”.

“Well, stop that”, he lightly flicks the portion of your forehead that is not covered in scars, “I’m not stuck. I’m where I want to be”.

He then tilts his head to the side, as if to consider something he failed to bring up until now. “What do you want?”.

You blink.

“What?”.

“Yeah. You run that mouth a lot about what I should want but what do you want?”.

In any other universe, this entire conversation wouldn’t exist. It probably wouldn’t have existed in this universe either, if not for you getting almost killed by a hoard of demons. He would’ve stayed the man you share a few of your nights with from time to time, when neither of you can keep pretending want and need and mutual attraction aren’t about to claw their way out of your chests. He would’ve stayed your comrade and the one man you’d trust your heart with, as long as he never finds out.

But now? You’re not sure what this is. You don’t know how to trust anything ever again.

“I want to know”, you murmur, “that you’re not moved by compassion. I want to know that you’re still you and whether I can ever be me again”.

Sanemi’s gaze softens. He’s finally able to take one of your hands but, instead of bringing it to his lips, he presses the palm against his chest. The skin feels warm under your palm.

“I am me and I will do everything I can to help you find you again. And if we never do, that’s fine. There’s time to get adjusted to the new you who, by the way, is still one hell of a fighter. Which is what I always liked in the first place”, he clicks his tongue, “that’s what moves me”.

There’s one thing Sanemi doesn’t say, which is that maybe the journey of helping you find yourself again will also help him find part of himself too. Whatever that could mean.

“Okay”, you say and sound so tired, completely spent when you let yourself rest in his arms again. You don’t have any energy left to question or resist. You’ll pack your bag, the same one you used so many times on missions with either Sanemi or the other pillars, spend some time in the quiet of his estate. You’ll sit in his garden and maybe drink tea on the engawa. You’ll have to find out if you’ll be able to allow him to get close, to take care of you the way you took care of him when he allowed you to get close too.

Sanemi once again wishes for a world where his sole purpose could be to keep you and what’s left of his family safe. He wishes he didn’t have to deny himself tenderness and affection, relentlessly push away the idea of naming whatever it is he feels for you. Whatever has been persistently pulling him in from day one, like a tide that goes out only to go in again, a current he can’t fight and isn’t entirely sure how to navigate.

But it’s fine this way too. Because he’s still him and you’re still you.

“Okay”, he agrees.

[wannaeatramyeon]

Daniel Park with Unhinged F! Reader

You, the peak of the verse with a list of supposedly strong and powerful men to kill meet.

Gun Park | Goo Kim | Samuel Seo | Samuel Seo Part 2 | James Lee/DG | Jinyoung Park | Eli Jang | Tom Lee | Ryuhei Kuroda | Eugene | Vin Jin | Charles Choi | Daniel Park

I had a request sometime last year on Unhinged F!Reader helping out Allied. Soooo- this is my response to it...

'Why are you following me?"

You turn around in the alleyway to see a guy approximately the same height as you. Unremarkable if not for the way he has managed to pick you out from the shadows and keep up with your steps.

"Please, I need your help."

Help? Does this person have any idea who you are?

You arch an eyebrow at his request as he continues to stare at you with wide eyes.

Honestly. Did he think this puppy dog look was going to work on you? Of all people? You don't say anything, letting the silence add pressure until he spills out his guts.

Something about the Four Crews and HNH, which vaguely rings a bell.

You start to examine your nails as he rambles, quickly losing interest. Damn, is that dried blood underneath? You really must clean them better post fight.

And tch! Another chipped nail too. Ugh.

Oh. He's still talking, huh.

You've already tuned him out but the sound of his voice grows irritating and you cut him off, just as he starts to mention the Ten Geniuses or whatever.

You thrust a palm out at him, inches from his face and clever boy, he shuts up immediately. "Why should I help you?"

"Um." He hesitates. "I can pay you?"

"Not interested."

"I.. I can copy moves? You can teach me to be your masterpiece-"

"Cool," you say, stifling a yawn. Wasn't that crazy old doctor also a copy user? You dispatched him without difficulty.

"Let me guess-" You start ticking off each point on your fingers.

"One. You don’t move like you’re a natural, so you do have a master but they're not cutting it anymore- " He nods.

"Two. You've somehow found out about me and managed to seek me out-"  You don't tell him you're reluctantly impressed at that part.

"Three. Then hoped that I would help you because I have such a good moral compass-" You roll your eyes at this. What is it with pathetic men expecting women to clean up their mess?

"Four. So you've come here to ask me to help and promise me riches as a sweetener but sorry to break your heart, I don't give a shit-" He recoils, taken aback by your bluntness.

"Anyway, which mediocre fool has been teaching you?"

"One of the Ten Geniuses I mentioned. The Learning Genius."

What a lame title. "Who?"

"Gun Park."

You have a vague recollection of this person and gesture for him to tell you more as you pull out your small slip of paper. The one with the list of crossed out names, that you hunted down and defeated one by one until only a few remain. 

Oh wait... the name Gun Park is here-

"Um. Black eyes, half naked all the time, tattoos on his arms, smokes-"

"Right!" You click your fingers. "That loser! The Learning Genius, did you say?"

He widens his eyes at you insulting his master but nods anyway.

"Pfffft-" you stifle a laugh unsuccessfully. Goddamn that is funny.

"Learning Genius!" You squeal, letting out a cackle that leaves his hairs standing on end. The more you think about it, the funnier it gets. On what planet is that guy qualified, good enough, to teach anyone? You laugh and laugh, clutching your stomach as he backs away awkwardly.

Wiping away tears from your eyes, you make up your mind and ask, "What did you say your name was?"

"I... I didn't. It's Daniel Park,"

You dig out the pen in your pocket and add his name to your list.

He's undercooked. Maybe fun in a few more years but now Daniel is nothing but a baby. It'll be fun to crush him eventually.

"Listen," You fold your note carefully, slipping it back into your pocket. "I have zero inclination to help you. None."

He opens his mouth to argue-

And you cut him off again with a shrug. "Mainly 'cause I don't want to. Anyway, I'll find you once you're ready to fight. It'll be a shame to kill you any sooner, but-"

You lunge at him, slamming Daniel into the wall with a hand on his neck before he has had a chance to react.

"- Follow me again and I won't hesitate." You smile sweetly, like butter wouldn't melt. Smile stretching further, turning monstrous and unhinged when you feel him attempt to free himself from your grasp but to no avail.

You give his throat one more squeeze for good measure as he chokes and claws at your hand before releasing him. “See ya!”

Daniel drops to the floor, gasping desperately for air and rubbing at his neck. Thinks that this has been a grave mistake and now he has a target on his back.

He watches you, humming to yourself and sashaying away into the night, melting into the shadows once more.

[physalian]

10 Character Dynamics the World Needs More of

Me handing out character dynamics like free samples at the Mall Food Court: “Take one! Or two! You’ll love it!”

I don’t care how many times these tropes have been done – write more of them. Write all of them. Fill out your author bingo card one by one.

1. “No one gets to kill you but me, Old Friend”

This. Right here. Primo rival content that I *live* for. All the juicy history between two old frenemies, the character drama, the backstory, the titillating unknown of what drove these two to rival status, bitter enemies that respect the heck out of each other, to the point that hell hath no fury should one get knocked down without the other’s consent.

And, of course, the moment where it seems all bets are off, when the rival comes to save their ass only to hand it back to them at a later date. The angst! The shipping fodder! Need I say more?

2. A bigger, badder villain, and their minion

You, reader, spend countless hours hating the guts of the big bad villain. They’re evil, they’re vile, they’re sadistic, heartless, irredeemable bastards. They killed your favorite character for shock value. The big bad moustache-twirling antagonist… is actually not the biggest fish in the story.

Either they’re coerced into doing evil as a puppet of the Bigger Bad, a tragic villain in their own right, or they have some reservation, some line even they won’t cross, someone else’s boots they have to kiss, someone who features in their nightmares, as they feature in the heroes. They end their stories dispatched without a thought by the Bigger Bad, or redeem themselves in death by taking out their masters. It never gets old.

3. A leader and their lancer: besties

You know what’s better than leaders and lancers who have zero faith in each other and are constantly bickering about who should be in charge? Leaders and their right-hands who adore each other (platonically). They have each other’s backs, they know each other’s greatest strengths and weaknesses and are each other’s perfect covers.

They can communicate with looks and vague gestures alone, they compliment each other’s flaws and misgivings, build up the rest of the team when they’re down on their luck, and should misfortune strike either, they pull out all the stops and show off exactly why they’re not to be trifled with, so that even the villain is afraid.

4. “I don’t even know who you are”

Oh, but you will. This one twists the knife, robbing the avenging hero of the importance in this world they’re desperate to maintain. They are their own hero, the sun revolves around them… but not to this one asshat that ruined their life and doesn’t even remember doing it.

An entire identity built upon the finding, fighting, and overcoming of this wrongdoer, every other goal in life cast aside for this one impossibility. Either the villain toys with the hero to make them irate, or gets suckerpunched by some pissant fueled by vengeance and spite and divine purpose to dole justice where justice is due.

6. The jaded badass and their naive ward

If the last 8 years of media is anything to go by, we still love this trope, whether it’s in a galaxy far, far away or a fungi-zombie post-apocalypse, or in the twilight hours of an era of legendary mutants. The best part of this trope? You get two often contradictory character types in one body. The pessimist, PTSD-ridden master of old with no living friends left and at least one dead love interest *and* beneath all that, still lies an atrophied heart of gold just waiting to be nurtured and revived.

The naive ward gets a hard lesson in how crappy the world can be, but also in how there’s still some goodness left, if their guardian cares about them. The jaded badass in turn, learns how good the world can be, that there’s something still worth fighting for beyond the next bottom of a bottle.

6. The enemy of my enemy (is my friend)

Similar to the “old friends”, this trope is often a result of the minioned Big Bad realizing they don’t want to be evil anymore. Or, bitter old rivals, sides of a war that have been fighting for generations, ideological polar opposites, fundamental polar opposites all come together when: Some evil schmuck managed to scare them both.

Doesn’t matter on what shaky ground this temporary alliance is built, or how long it lasts, equally-competent badasses on both sides finally work together and compliment each other’s strengths, and compensate for their weaknesses, in a way their teammates never could.

7. The irredeemable villain’s only wholesome connection

Not so irredeemable anymore, now are they? This trope messes with your head, taking a character you know has done heinous acts of terror, but who cares unflinchingly, unabashedly, about one thing – either their lover, their pet, their relative, or their kid.

This exists independently of the heroes and is not the same as an “oops I guess I’m your father” reveal. I’m talking this character who everyone is convinced cares about nothing and no one but themselves and their ambition still has a place in their soul for something they want to protect, they want to be loved by, or that they must spare from their atrocities.

8. Platonic Heterosexual Friendships

These two have seen each other at their most vulnerable. They’ve shared fears, dreams, desires, know each other’s deepest, darkest secrets. They’ve seen each other exhausted, frazzled, dressed up, dressed down, bloodied and broken and like a raw, open nerve. These two would die for each other, they would live for each other, and yet.

They’re not in love with each other. They’re wholly comfortable in each other’s spaces without lust and desire mucking up the atmosphere. Neither is the one, neither wants to be the one. They remain together not for the bonds of romance, but for the bonds of friendship, and nothing could be stronger.

10. The Ace and their best friend, the Self-Proclaimed Slut

These two respect the f*ck out of each other. One never mocks the other for lacking desire and in return, they’re never mocked for their promiscuity. They’ll never walk in each other’s shoes, but they don’t need to, to understand that’s just how some people are. They’re each other’s safest spaces when the world doesn’t take either of them seriously.

They’re each other’s biggest defenders against the bullies, presumers, the holier-than-thous who think they have it all figured out. They’re the perfect compliment to give advice on everything from relationships to the best outfits for an outing because there’s *zero sexual tension* between them. Or, maybe, if the stars align, they’re something more.

10. The redeeming villain, and their staunchest skeptic

This villain has lost everything – their home, the respect of their people, their worth, their evil ambition, their identity, and has begun working their way up from rock bottom doing everything in their power to show the heroes that they’re serious. They make amends, they break their bones proving themselves, they’ve swayed everyone they’ve wronged in the hero camp.

Except one. The one character that was probably their first defender, and got burned for it. The character that was naive enough to think this villain could be saved, and was wrong. The character that won’t be duped again without some serious drama and soul-bearing between them.

Now tell me which ones I missed!

[magpiepills]

Overtime

Rating: EXPLICIT 18+ MDNI

Pairing: Tim Rockford x f! Reader

Word count: 1.6k

Summary: Tim passes the time on a long double shift.

Warnings: SMUT! PIV, fingering, cream pie, unethical pairing, dubious consent, handcuffs, implied infidelity, etc. no use of Y/N, reader has hair. No editing, no proofreading, no betas!

ACAB, please go vote if you’re in the US!

A word from the author: special thanks and consideration to my girl @strang3lov3 for checking in on how our boy Tim is doing! I’d say he’s doing alright!

masterlist

Turgid Members Club

The Late Shift (this is the same Tim and same reader!)

At 1:12 AM, Tim pours a cup of coffee. It’s too hot and too weak, the powdered creamer he pours in to mask the flavor clumps dryly. He tries to break them up, pressing them against the side of his cup with the flimsy plastic stirrer before sighing and dumping the whole mess in the sink.

Tim walked back to his office under the buzzing fluorescent lights, his shoes squeaking softly against the stained and chipped terrazzo floor. He’s restless. Relegated to an overnight shift in addition to his first late shift, he was to cover the desk, a warm body to field any emergency dispatches. The night was quiet, though. In a town this small, the officers in the field could handle most of the calls, leaving Tim little to occupy him for the rest of his shift. He thought of you.

Sitting in his squeaking chair, running his hand over the top of his desk, straightened during the first silent hour of overtime, he tried to conjure the smell of your cunt. He wanted to remember the way you felt on his lips. His cock twitched in his slacks and he looked around the empty department before sinking a little lower in his seat to rub his wide, paddle shaped palm over his thickening length. He was reserved, giving himself a little counter pressure, but not stroking, exactly. He grunted and closed his eyes. Your face floated in his mind, the pout of your lips, the glass of your big Bambi eyes. He thought of your tits, the color of your nipples, the weight of them in his hands, and he jutted his hips upward against his flat hand.

Tim loosened his tie, unbuttoning the top button of his limp and wrinkled shirt. Gripping the arm rests of his chair, he tried to reason with himself. He’s alone, but he’s not alone. Down the corridor there are guards, the janitor was here somewhere, pushing the grubby yellow mop bucket, daubing gray pine-sol water across the floor in a pantomime of cleanliness.

And you are here. Down the first corridor, through a locked door, up a flight of stairs, another locked door, and tucked in a cell all alone in a mostly empty block of cells meant for wayward ladies. He can’t go to you. It would be wrong. He can’t come in there and wake you up from your already shitty sleep and shove his aching cock down your throat. He can’t.

But he should do some rounds. Check that all is in order, all doors are secure, all protocols are being followed. He’s on the clock, after all.

The keys on the big master key ring click as he fixes it to his belt. He stretches and adjusts this shoulder holsters and palms his half hard dick once more before leaving his office. He walks slowly, his face arranged in a serious line. No nonsense. He takes his time, checking logs as he goes, exchanging brief notes with the guards on duty, all in the name of duty. He observes the men in the cells, cost of them frequent fliers, lying on their bunks or sitting and mumbling. He nods at the ones who bother to look up as he passes.

The locked door clangs open, and clangs back shut. Tim locks himself into the stairwell and starts casually, unhurriedly toward the women’s unit. He unlocks the door at the top of the stairs, no doubt announcing his arrival, and carefully relocks it. The corridor is quiet. The stale air is barely circulated by a slow turning fan overhead. It has probably been on for 90 years, Tim thinks, walking softly past empty, dimly lit holding cells. His blood rushes faster as he nears the last cell at the end, speeding to his neck and his cheeks and his heavy cock.

He finds you, finally, just as he had imagined you. A little devil in repose on your single bunk, pants kicked onto the floor, stiff jail-laundered top rolled up over your belly, one leg dangling over the side. Were you waiting for him?

In your sticky, humid, dreamless sleep, you heard his steps. You heard the heavy fall of the door, the turn of the lock, but they were far away. Only the rhythmic tapping of metal against metal roused you. It was much closer, more insistent. You rubbed your eyes and slowly put together the sound with the shadow darkening your little compartment.

Detective Rockford. Tim. His gold wedding band clicking against the cold bar keeping you inside your cell.

“Tim?” You rasp, voice soft and sleepy.

“Hey jailbird,” he coos, “just came to check on you. Make sure everything is in order.

Your hair was mussed, your face puffy and bleary, it made you look sultry and seductive, he thought.

“Need to inspect, sweetheart,” he apologized and dangled a pair of handcuffs from the end of this thick finger, “turn around for me. Against the wall.”

You moved slowly, still groggy, but Tim didn’t rush you. He watched you move, from your pink painted toes up your bare legs, round little ass in your too-tight panties, your belly, and those tits he knows are waiting under your shirt.

When you’re against the wall, legs spread and hands behind your back the way is expected, Tim lets himself in. He cuffs you carefully, as if the cuffs were bracelets, and this was a real date, a night in the town.

He lifts your pillow, glances under the mattress, and shakes out your blanket, bringing it to his face to inhale your scent before tossing it back down.

“Looks like you’ve been on good behavior. Still need to pat you down, though.”

You hum, amused at how far he’s willing to take his farce. You know why he’s here, your pussy thrummed from the moment you realized who had come for you.

Tim’s broad frame looms over you, wide hands on your shoulders, sweeping your hair away from your shoulder, sliding over your chest, down over your hips, stopping there to squeeze before disappearing under your top.

You kept your cheek flat against the white painted cinder block wall as he crowded you, kneading and pinching your breasts, rutting his hips into your ass as he mouths at your neck, sucking and nibbling, soothing himself, working himself up.

When it’s not enough, he turns you around.

“Shhh. Gotta be quiet now.” He lifts the front of your shirt and stuffs it into your mouth, accomplishing two things at once.

He rolls your panties down your thighs, waiting for you to step out of them before shoving them into his pocket.

Taking a step back, Tim rolls his sleeves up his forearms as he watches the way you shift your hips, little cunt so needy. He makes his assessment, then begins the methodical process of your undoing.

“Been a good girl? Need a little reward for staying out of trouble?” He whispers.

You nod, desperate for his touch, whining quietly.

His touch is precise. His thick finger slides up the wet length of your slit, gathering slick that he brings to his full lips, sucking his finger clean before he goes back for more. Just one finger sliding over your seam, glossing past your clenching hole and your throbbing clit, covering his digit again.

Like a painter, he daubs your wetness over the tips of your breasts, he swirls his finger around your pointed bud and blows, letting you feel the way they cool even in the too-hot cell.

Tim is greedy, and he sucks each nipple into his mouth, letting his teeth faintly scrape against your tender flesh as he licks you clean.

As if to make up for the last time, he was generous with your pleasure. His rough hand worked between your legs, fingertips strumming your clit, and two thick fingers spearing into you from behind, pumping until your legs were weak and your head was cloudy. Your orgasm soaked his hand and wetted your thighs. You whimpered into his chest.

“Turn around.” He pants, drugging at his pants, unable to free his cock fast enough. He’s in a hurry, he needs to feel the tight grip of you around him. He pulls your hips back roughly, arranging you just so, digging his fingertips into the plush of your ass as he lines himself up and slides home, every inch of his turgid member pushing the air from your lungs as he fills you completely. Wiping your mind of any thoughts or second guesses.

He pulses there, thick cock head against your cervix, letting you feel him, really feel him.

Your mouth hangs open in a silent whine when he begins to move, gathering steam like a freight train until he’s pounding into you hard and deep, narrow hips colliding with your ass, warnings to stay silent forgotten when he groans and stalls, emptying inside you with heavy spurts of white.

Tim tucks his cock back into his pants and sits heavily on the side of your bunk while you remain against the wall, catching your breath and dripping come down your thighs. He regards you with curiosity, a certain fondness he didn’t usually feel for inmates. He turned you over in his mind and then put you away, steeling himself as he was trained to. He let himself out of your cell, and motioned for you to turn so he could remove the handcuffs. He was gentle, apologetic as you rubbed your wrists.

“I’ll tell laundry to bring you a fresh outfit, maybe see about getting you another pillow,” he said, his voice back to business already, devoid of the need from just moments ago. He disappeared down the hallway, and you tried to go back to sleep.

[headlines-headlines]

NEVER-ENDING FOREST.

𝐆𝐢𝐲𝐮𝐮 𝐓𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐨𝐤𝐚 𝐱 𝐏𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐫! 𝐟! 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫.

★ 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓.

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲! Ubuyashiki sends you and Tomioka on an important mission. However, you both need to get... creative... to fulfill your task and make it back in one piece.

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬! female bodied reader, smut, intoxication (sex dust), fingering, pet name use (baby), rough + raw sex, creampie.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5.3k words...

☆!☆!☆: i had the bright idea of Tomioka turning into lowk a soft dom with the help of an aphrodisiac ;^). enjoy! (divider: @cafekitsune)

"Be well my children, please return to us safely," Master Ubuyashiki replied, dismissing the two Pillars in front of him to begin their journey down to the Garment District. 

"Yes master, of course," You answered, both you and Tomioka rising from your deep bows.

Currently, at the Ubuyashiki estate, you, [L/n] [F/n], and Tomioka Giyuu, were summoned by Master Ubuyashiki due to a troubling alert from a village near the Demon Slayer headquarters. The threat entailed a demon who wiped out several smaller villages nearby, each in the span of a night, simply with the ability to reduce multitudes of people into a trance-like state. This time, it found its way to a larger village crucial to the garment supply for the Demon Slayer headquarters, already devastating a handful of other closely connected communities. 

Many slayers were dispatched in earlier stages of the threat, but none have returned from their missions. The common result was dismembered slayers deep within the forest, or locals dropping dead to the ground from sheer exhaustion first, before being eaten unconsciously. Villages would report signs of a sweet-smelling scent and barely translucent fog emanating from deep in the forest, with even slight ingestion of it causing overwhelming heat and physical excitement. It was a tricky task, not only wiping out a notorious demon but fighting an invisible foe, its blood demon art. 

It was decided that two Pillars, close in rank would go investigate the issue and dispose of the threat immediately before the demon made its appearance by nightfall. Knowing you were already acquainted with your fellow Pillar, Ubuyashiki decided Tomioka's calm and calculated attitude complimented your quick initiative and undying drive. Over the past few months, you had begun to bring him out of his isolated shell. By befriending him, it led him to open up more,  having a noticeable effect on the other Pillars as well. Leave it to Light Pillar [F/n]'s radiating beauty, and soft, bubbly demeanor to finally melt his cold exterior. 

This was not the first mission the two of you have gone on, however. A similar, and even longer tactical mission preceded this one, so naturally, you held no qualms about working with Tomioka once more. He was super thoughtful and charming, albeit a bit quiet, but never gave you any glaring issues to worry about. Despite you both bumping heads from time to time due to your more extroverted personality, Tomioka came to appreciate the friendly dynamic you shared. 

Exiting the premises, your eyes pointed to the sky, watching both of your crows circle around each other before calling out to you, directing your path. At your side, Giyuu set a brisk pace while you matched him, turning back to wave a cheery "Goodbye!" to a few of the other Pillars gathered at the gate to send you off. 

You were prepared to complete your duty as a Pillar, ending the incessant destruction of the Smoke demon that hid in the forest.

• • • 

It was 30 minutes before midnight, the exact time when the first waves of translucent fog would start to seep into the village. After reserving temporary lodging, you and Tomioka had gone into the forest, listening for the hissing whispers that would urge locals and Slayers alike deeper into the looming trees and dense foliage. The demon would coax its victims into the darkness, promising their sweetest desires whilst intoxicating them with smoke. By the time they would reach the owner of the voice, it would be too late. The once straight path would become eternally long, with no discernible way out. One would have already lost control of their limbs and basic motor functions, unable to fight back, or even tear their eyes away from the horrifying sight of a ravenous demon.  

The plan was to entrap the smoke demon during its preparations to disperse the poison. The safety of the villagers came first, so eliminating the demon's ability to use its blood art was key. After locating it, you were to disable and behead the demon without casualties and make it out of the supposed never-ending forest. You and Tomioka concealed your breathing techniques in order to mask your presence, diving straight into combat from the shadows. You watched as the figure of a woman morphed into a creature built from the forest terrain. It was a disfigured humanoid shape, with vines slithering up her body, full of flowers you assumed held the contents of that sweet-smelling fog.  By catching it off guard, you were able to render quick slices with your blade along her limbs, severing not only the flowers but whatever body part was unlucky enough to be underneath. 

Your attack proved to be effective, but not without consequences. Instead of regenerating a new limb, the gaping hole swole up with a giant flower, shooting its mist directly into your face, and throwing you several meters back. Breathing it in so densely almost paralyzed your lungs from shock. You coughed and sputtered, as you hit the ground. Driving your sword into the dirt, you steadied yourself to rise to your feet, keeping a faint eye out for any further strikes, but watched as Tomioka swooped in to sever the newly formed appendage. It caught on, sending a few puffs of smoke his way as he effortlessly weaved between them, closing the distance. Finally finding an opening, Tomioka drove his nichirin sword into the shoulder of the demon, using his water-breathing form to slice across, effectively taking its head off its shoulders. However, hoping to make a grand exit, the demon's fallen limbs burst into smoke, shrouding the area with airborne poison before vaporizing. Tomioka had already taken a heavy couple of breaths before slamming his haori to his nose, trying to prevent further smoke inhalation. 

"Curse you Slayers... I would have torn apart your headquarters by now... if it weren't for your meddling swordsmen," The demon spat, choking bitterly from being beheaded.  

Her body began to burn and vaporize underneath the bright moonlight, the poisonous secretions from her skin dispersing into the air. There was soon nothing left of her, not even the long, extravagant, robes she adorned herself with.

Tomioka's chest heaved from fatigue, drops of sweat running down his temple. He watched sternly as all traces of the demon disappeared, before releasing a long exhale. It was now eerily quiet, the long assault finally over. You both had succeeded, protecting a village from total annihilation once more. 

Before getting a chance to celebrate, he felt a certain light-headedness seize him, forcing him to take a step back to regain his balance. The mist that was now vanishing had managed to up the temperature of the surrounding area by a few degrees. It was a little unnerving, but he realized you both would have to endure whatever effects may result from ingesting various amounts of the demon's blood art. It was non-lethal, with the worst side effect reported to be dropping unconscious. He would stay in close proximity to you for the rest of the night, deciding it was better to monitor your reaction since you took most of the damage.

Pulling himself together, he turned his attention to you in the distance. 

You stood several feet away, hunched over, unable to move as the stiffening heat encased every fiber of your being. 

Your knees buckled underneath you as you felt your body's heat intensify. There was a sinister warmth pooling between your legs and shooting up your spine. You knew it was too late to hope to reverse the demon's blood art, so you doubled down, deciding to bear it. You tried your best to steady your breath as you sank to the ground, your heartbeat hammering in your ribcage while the effects of the fog settled into your body. 

"[F/N]!" Giyuu's strained voice called out to you, regardless if you could hear him or not. He had missed most of the demon's final smoke attack, but started to feel his chest tighten at the sight of you on your knees, breathing heavily. He was nearly exhausted making his way over to you, but after seeing you ingest so much smoke, there was nothing more important in this moment than making sure you were okay. He would get you out of here safely if it was the last thing he did. Protecting you was the final part of his mission. 

It was then as if the temperature of the area skyrocketed. As Tomioka approached you, the air grew thick, and time slowed down as everything grew hazy around him. He could only really hear how hard he was breathing, and his focus was lasered in on your figure, wanting to make it to you as quickly as possible. As his footsteps grew closer, you hurriedly outstretched your arm towards him, aiming to halt his advances.

"No! Don't come any closer!" You cried out, panicking because you knew what was happening to you. This poison... resembled the effects of an aphrodisiac, however, almost hundreds of times more potent than a natural one. You didn't want to embarrass yourself in front of your fellow Pillar, the state you were in could put you both in a very compromising position. Regardless, Tomioka ignored your warning and pushed on, soon dropping to his knees with a 'thud' at your lefthand side.

"Are you alright?!" His sturdy hands came up to grip your shoulders, a worried expression all over his face. "Do you feel anything?" He questioned you. 

Your body felt hot all over, and his touches were scalding, you needed him away from you before it was too late. You tried to turn away from him, avoiding his eyes, but his grip was unwavering, holding you in place. 

"Get away from me. ...Please Giyuu," you quietly begged him, unable to explain what was making you so flustered. You brought a hand to his chest, slightly pushing him away to maintain your distance. A shade of pink dusted your cheeks as you felt his eyes scan your body, examining you so closely. 

"Not until you tell me what's happening," he insisted, suddenly fixated on the way your chest heaved as you took in deep breaths. 

"It's just, really, really hot," you half-lied. A light layer of sheen was starting to gather on your forehead, and you reached up to unbutton the first few buttons of your collar. 

"Here, take this off," He insisted, quickly reaching over to slide off your haori, and placing your sword with it on the ground next to you. His haori joined yours as he too, tried to escape the heat creeping up his legs, spine, and into his face and chest. 

You fanned yourself to no avail, closing your eyes to ignore the growing pulsating feeling of your nether regions. Taking off your haori proved to be useless, as you expected. You would do almost anything to relieve this maddening sensation all over your body and just prayed that Giyuu was in a better position than you right now. What good would it do if you were both like this? You couldn't help but let your mind wander, giving an inkling of attention to the idea of how you both could help each other out.

"I feel like... it's getting worse," Giyuu interrupted your thoughts, his breaths becoming more and more labored as seconds passed on. He scanned the area looking for any signs of life before it hit him that the never-ending forest path you two were stuck in must've been tied to the demon's blood art as well. Although the demon's life had been taken, and all effects should have ceased by now, it still persisted, locking the both of you in a trance-like state, still affecting your perception of your surroundings. Until it wore off, there was no escape for either of you. 

His eyes darted back to you, still full of concern. If he was unable to get you both out of here, he could at least find some way to help you.

"[F/n]. You need to tell me what you're feeling, maybe there's a way to reverse this. But, I don't... I don't remember there being an antidote...," Giyuu was unable to piece any of his thoughts together. It was starting to become increasingly difficult to concentrate on anything at all. Anything other than how... how beautiful you looked right now. Your eyes were trained on the ground, but he still lingered on the way your lashes fluttered open and closed. And the way your pretty lips were agape, sucking in short breaths. Your quiet whimpers triggered something sleeping deep within him, with the sound of your voice making his dick twitch to life in his uniform.

'It can't be....,' a very suggestive thought flickered in Giyuu's mind as he started to vaguely grasp what he was feeling. If the effects of the poison turned out to be what he thought it was, it would be an embarrassingly long amount of hours before the two of you made it out of this forest.

"It's the blood demon art... it's supposed to make you...," You trailed off, unable to finish your sentence. You were starting to not trust your own voice. You didn't even know what to say. You couldn't bring yourself to tell him, 'by the way Tomioka, this might be sex dust. we're supposed to start fucking to get rid of it.' Poor dude probably thinks there's an antidote somewhere. Unbeknownst to you, it just clicked in his brain what he needed to do. And as the water Pillar, it was his duty to do what he must to protect others. Especially a friend like you, a beautiful swordswoman at his side.

"It's alright, we can figure this out. I just need you to trust me." He cut you off calmly, moving behind you and leaning against a tree a couple of inches away. 

"Huh? What're you...," you started, squeaking as Giyuu pulled your back taught to his chest in a tight embrace, knees on either side, effectively trapping you. Reaching around to your front, he began indiscriminately popping open the rest of the buttons to your uniform jacket. You were only in your bindings underneath, which barely held up after the intense fight with the demon. You could feel the heat radiating off of him, the way he was glued to your backside. You knew the effects of the aphrodisiac had finally caught up to him, feeling him clench his teeth as his jaw was pressed to your temple. He slipped your jacket off, adding it to the pile of discarded clothes on the ground. 

"Hold on!" You wailed, nervousness choking you up completely. What was he doing? There was no way the quiet, stone-cold Giyuu Tomioka would participate in such erotic acts, even if it meant failing to return from a mission. You honestly didn't even think he had it in him to be so boldly sexual. You underestimated the level of carnal lust he had been holding back, simply to not disturb the peace of your friendship.

"I know I can help you, [f/n]. Forgive me," He exhaled, propping a finger under your chin to tilt your head back up toward him. His eyes were a shade darker, but you could see the traces of concern and desperation etched into his features. He leaned forward to lock his lips with yours, snaking a hand behind your head to nestle in your hair. His lips were soft and warm as he kissed you. You hesitated but moved your lips in sync as his tongue licked your bottom lip. Your mouth parted almost immediately, allowing his tongue to enter, tangling with yours. His tongue pushed into your mouth, hotly sucking on yours as he lightly moaned into the kiss. Seconds later, he pulled away with a quiet exhale, drinking in the sight of you with your face flushed and lips now swollen and pink. 

"These need to come off though," he sighed with disapproval, motioning towards your feet.

A hand slid down your leg, lifting it up to slip off your Geta sandal. Reaching over to your other leg, he popped off your remaining shoe.

"Are those...?" his breath was caught in his throat as he trailed his hands up your legs and lifted up your skirt, revealing the thigh-high socks you wore under your uniform.

You groaned as you felt Giyuu's palms slide over the tops of your thighs and slip underneath your uniform skirt, hands finding their way to the cotton material of your socks. 

"And definitely these too..." He sighed by your ear, his voice so deep it almost held a growl.

Your breath hitched as you felt two thumbs hook under your socks, intent on pushing them down your legs. Even in your hazy, lust-drunken state, you realized your socks were still connected to your panties by thin garter clips. By pulling your socks down, he could end up pulling your already-soaked panties down with them. Your resolve was already crumbling in this compromising position, but the risk of being exposed would shatter it completely. You were fighting off this 'poison' the best you could, but Tomioka's heated breath right next to your ear and slowly hardening length against the curve of your ass wasn't making it any easier. 

"G-Giyuu! Enough! 'Hng... you- you can't!" You panted frantically. Your hands wrapped around and strained against both of his wrists, heart thumping wildly as you watched him struggle to inch your socks down. 

"Just... Just let me take these off. You're overheating," Giyuu breathed, lowering his chin into the crook of your right shoulder. "It'll make you feel better... I can make you feel better." 

Despite his nonchalant demeanor, Tomioka found himself somehow falling deeper and deeper into intoxication, the remnants of the perfumed poison wafting off of you in sickly sweet-smelling waves. He couldn't help but inhale your scent deeply, quickly becoming addicted to it. His eyes were low, clouded in a dark lust as he felt his self-control splintering the more you pressed up against him, trying to preserve your dignity and hide your embarrassment. His tongue snaked out from between his lips, dragging a small stripe from the crook of your neck to your ear. He felt you shudder harshly beneath him as he kitten-licked the shell of your ear. 

"Please... you can't..," you whined, your pleas falling on deaf ears as the water Pillar had his way with you, already successfully dragging your socks down more than halfway. Your strength was no match for his, which had you biting your bottom lip frustratedly, feeling the effects of the poison diminish your motivation to resist. You watched as your garters moved down your legs from underneath your skirt, tightly fastened to your panties as they were pulled down with them.

"B-But my underwear-!" You helplessly stammered, as Giyuu lifted one of your legs after the other, slowly peeling the items of clothing off one by one. A patch of wetness could be seen dead in the center of your undergarment and caught his eye immediately as he watched it be pulled along. A trail of your slick coated your thighs, Giyuu's mouth watering at the sight.

"Oh. But you're already so wet down there... just let me help [f/n]... please," he softly groaned into your ear, his voice so desperate, full of need. You shivered as the air hit your barely covered cunt, and you snapped your knees together, trying to conceal yourself the best you could.

"Giyuu..." you started, feeling his large, rough hands slide back up underneath your skirt. Snaking his hand in between your thighs, he spread them open, allowing him more access. There was nothing to separate him from your bare pussy, and he let himself drag a hesitant finger up your quivering slit. A strangled moan escaped you as his fingers gathered your slick, and used it to rub smooth circles around your clit. 

"Oh! Fuck...," you quietly cursed, feeling yourself jerk and twitch from sudden pleasure as Tomioka gave you attention exactly where you needed it the most. You couldn't hide how badly you needed him to touch you, knowing how embarrassingly quick it would be for you to come undone. You arched more into him, lolling your head to the side as his slow circles on your bud brought you deeper into madness. Against your wishes, your hips ground into his fingers and into his erection behind you, chasing your high.

"That's it [f/n], I got you," he purred, moving his other hand that he used to steady your hip to trace your slit once more. You felt a finger breach your entrance, and you grabbed his forearms to steady your jolting body. 

"'Hng,... Ah!" you moaned loudly, gasping as he curled his finger inside your dripping heat, pushing it deeper until he found a spongy spot along your velvety walls. You almost leapt out of his arms, the way he prodded your g-spot so fiercely, your mind melting into a hazy goo, unable to think straight. You were practically immobilized with pleasure, letting out a whine when he added a second finger, and soon a third, stretching you out. His pace around your clit quickened, never faltering even with the added stimulation. Your pussy was drooling around his fingers, the squelching noises so vulgar to your ears. However, it was music to his. 

Tomioka nipped and sucked at your exposed neck, shuddering as your sweet cries reached his ears. You were almost at your limit, he could feel you squeezing sporadically around him. It was almost devilish how much he enjoyed you falling apart in his hands. He just wanted to help you feel better, of course, so happy the way your swollen pussy clung to his fingers. With a few more rubs of your clit, you felt it. The pressure that was steadily building up in your abdomen was careening over the edge. 

"W-Wait! Giyuu...! 'm cumming... gonna...!" You couldn't finish your sentence as the pressure exploded, sending you straight into the clouds. Your eyes rolled upwards, and your pussy spasmed and gushed around his fingers as you came hard. You shook in his arms, quietly cursing and moaning his name. Tomioka continued to finger-fuck you through your orgasm, relishing in the way you moaned his name as you came. He was rock hard, his cock straining painfully now against his uniform pants. He wanted nothing more than to feel himself inside you, hoping it could relieve the unbearable sexual frustration you were both suffering from.

As you panted, slowly coming down from your high, Giyuu slipped his hands away from your cunt to tear off his jacket, now allowing the both of you to be skin-to-skin. You still had your bindings halfway on, but you were soaking through your skirt, even creating a damp spot where the curve of your ass met his print. Giyuu had already slipped off his shoes, finding a place for his hands around your waist. You released a shaky breath as you felt his hands rub circles at your sides. 

"Are...are you feeling better?" He asked lowly, peering over your shoulder at the bindings that were slowly unraveling around your tits. His hands mindlessly came up to grope them softly, palming them in slow circles.

"Y-Yes," you breathed, unable to wrap your head around how hard he just made you cum with his fingers. The heat momentarily dwindled, before returning with the stimulation at your chest. You had the shortest window of relief before being reminded that you needed more. It wasn't enough. You needed to help him too, the only way you knew how. His method was working after all. 

"Giyuu... I think I need more," you mumbled, relaxing into his touches. His fingers came up to peel off your bindings, exposing your nipples to the air. He took each one in his index and thumb, lightly pulling and tweaking them. You jerked, shock and pleasure shooting through you. 

He was at your earlobe licking, then sucking and kissing the soft skin down the side of your neck.  

"I know baby, ...how much more? Tell me what you want," he sighed, drunken on how perfect and sexy you were like this. He almost wasn't sure how much of himself was being influenced by the aphrodisiac, you already drove him crazy internally. Eventually, he knew he wouldn't be able to hold himself back anymore. The way you regarded him so sweetly always, he found himself drawn to you, appreciating your friendship. He could only yearn for you, wanting to take you every time your touches lingered on his arm, or sparred with him, or was in his presence. He wanted to show you just how much he wanted you. 

"I want you... to fuck me," you moaned, ignoring how desperate your request may have came out. You just couldn't bear it any longer, you needed him to make you feel good. You needed him inside you until you couldn't think straight.

Giyuu wasted no time and brought his legs in, lifting you into his lap with a strong arm. He turned your head to collide mouths, hastily deepening the kiss. His tongue was back inside your mouth fiercely, mixing your saliva with his, and pulling back a bit to run it over your puffy lips. With an arm still supporting your back, he placed you onto his outstretched haori on the ground, him now on top of you. He broke the kiss, a thin string of spit connecting your lips before snapping. Giyuu slid his hands up the back of your thighs, placing both of your legs over his shoulders. Reaching down, he popped open the buttons of his trousers and hooked his thumb underneath, pulling them down with his undergarments and freeing his cock. You glanced into the space between your bodies, watching as his dick, long and heavy with considerable girth, twitched to life. It slightly curved, and his tip was angrily flushed, precum dribbling from his slit. Your mouth watered a little at the sight. You could feel how big it was from his print, but seeing his dick in all its naked glory was a different story. You were calculating if it would even fit, unaware that Tomioka watched your expression morph into one of dumbfoundedness. He lowered himself, placing an arm next to your head, to press a chaste kiss to your cheek, and one on your lips.

"You can take it... right?" He whispered into your ear and gave a tentative roll of his hips, sliding his tip over your slick folds. His cock dipped lightly into and out of your entrance and slipped right over your clit. 

"Ah...! Yes-!" You gasped, feeling the head of his cock breach your entrance. He pushed a few inches into you, your pussy already squeezing him tightly. You felt him groan, drawling out your name in a soft whisper. 

"So fucking... tight...," Tomioka shuddered, tensing up to keep him from creaming inside your needy cunt so quickly. "How could you keep this from me..?" He closed his eyes, enjoying every second his cock slowly pushed an inch inside of you. 

"Ohh...! Keep going p-please!" You babbled, needing him to hurry and fill you up, even if the pressure opening up your little hole was overwhelming. The effects of the poison still craved more and more, having no regard for logic, just urging you to be pounded into. 

"Gods...," he breathed, with quick two thrusts fully splitting you open and seating him deeper than you could have imagined inside you. He stilled for a moment, letting you feel every twitch, as you throbbed around him. You were situated in a mating press, thighs to your chest, as Tomioka angled his hips to kiss his tip at your cervix. Your head reeled from total satisfaction, despite the painful stretch, and your voice was caught in your throat as you felt him, finally, filling up your aching pussy. You almost couldn't get enough of his body being on yours, wrapping your arms around his neck and screwing your eyes shut. Slowly dragging his full length from out your pussy, you felt every vein on his cock as he moved, already whining and nipping at his neck to be stuffed again. He couldn't bare to turn to show you how wide his pupils were blown, beads of sweat forming at his temple as his last strings of self-restraint started to snap. 

"I'm gonna start moving now," Giyuu murmured lowly, almost as a warning to brace yourself.

"H-Hurry, Ngh-!" you cried as he snapped his hips forward, plunging into your velvety heat once more. With a firm grip on your calf, he set a brutal pace, pounding into you with every sharp roll of his pelvis. Your pussy drooled and creamed around him as he rearranged your insides, echoing obscene skin-slapping sounds when his heavy balls met the curve of your ass. 

"Fuck... you keep sucking me in like that...," he hissed, losing himself in your pretty cunt. 

His cock head continually prodded your cervix, constantly rubbing along your g-spot, sending you barreling towards your second release. His head rose to watch your face, long wisps of jet-black hair running awry. He loved watching your tits bounce as he roughly fucked you, the sight fulfilling his most carnal desires. He watched as quiet praises fell from your lips, barely coherent with how cock-drunk you became, and your eyes fluttered open and closed, unable to hold eye contact, your nerves firing off on every end. His eyes flickered to where your two bodies met, eyeing the creamy ring your pussy pushed down the base of his member the deeper he thrust into you. He let out staggered grunts feeling himself approach his high quickly with the way your cunt swallowed his dick relentlessly. He wanted you to cum again, all over his dick this time, and felt the urge to breed his seed deep into you, only if you would let him. His hand abandoned the back of your knee to snake down your abdomen and find its way to your puffy clit. After rubbing several quick circles on your nub, he felt the siren's call of your approaching orgasm, your cunt starting to spasm around his length.  You peered up at him through teary eyes, mouth falling open.

"I-I think I'm... 'm cumming... 'm cumming... fuckk, " you braced yourself as your vision exploded with stars, your mind-numbing climax tearing through you with a strangled cry. Your pussy squirted your release, dripping down your ass and wetting him from his balls to the tops of his thighs. You called out Tomioka's name with a sob as he fucked you steadily through your orgasm. His resolve finally cracked as he knew he wasn't going to last much longer.

"Just like that baby... I'm almost... almost there," he stammered, clenching his teeth as he watched you come down exhaustedly, your doe eyes low and tired. 

"Inside... n-need you to cum inside me...," you whispered up at him, using the last of your strength to urge him impossibly deeper. It was such a filthy request that he was more than happy to oblige, as his thrusts morphed into, deep, sultry rolls of his hips. He ground into your cunt a few more times before pushing inside you one last time, his tip spurting warm cum up against your cervix. His body shook, chest heaving hard as he breathed out a string of curses, drowning in the intensity of his climax. You both panted heavily for a moment, feeling the brain fog finally start to dissipate. 

Sliding out of you with a quiet "damn," his eyes locked on your pussy as his own semen spilled from your hole, trailing down your sex. The two of you had just gone at it like rabbits, both sheepishly smiling as Tomioka lowered your aching legs. There were no words to describe how utterly satisfying it was to succumb to the urges of the aphrodisiac.

"I think," you said in between breaths, "We might have to just continue this later... indoors...," suddenly reminded of your place on the forest floor. 

"Yeah, ... I agree."

® 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬-𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬. 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝. 𝐃𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭, 𝐧𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐥𝐫 𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦. 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬, 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬, & 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 <𝟑

[moonselune]

I'm not the same anon who requested for BG3 ladies in compromising positions but could I request for the same prompt with Raphael, Rolan, and Wyll with female crush?

Hehehehehhehehhe what a brilliant request

Rolan:

You were in Ramazith’s Tower, meticulously organizing books in the library. Standing atop a ladder, you reached for a particularly high shelf when the ladder wobbled precariously. You felt a sudden panic as you lost your balance, arms flailing for support.

"Careful!" Rolan's voice called out, but it was too late. The ladder tipped, and you fell backward, bracing for impact.

Instead, you landed against something solid. Rolan had caught you, his arms securely wrapped around your waist. The momentum pushed you both back, and you ended up pinned against him, his chest against your back. You felt his breath on your neck, and his grip tightened to steady you both.

"Are you alright?" Rolan asked, his voice a mix of concern and embarrassment. His usual irate demeanor had given way to genuine worry.

"Y-yes, thank you," you stammered, aware of how close you were. You could feel his heartbeat against your back.

Rolan cleared his throat, trying to compose himself. "You should be more careful," he said, attempting to sound stern but failing miserably. He finally set you down and stepped back, giving you space but not before a lingering touch on your arm.

You turned to face him, your cheeks flushed. "Thank you for catching me."

He offered a small smile, his eyes softening. "Anytime. Just try not to fall off ladders too often."

Wyll:

The battlefield was a chaotic mess, goblins swarming from every direction. You fought fiercely, but in the midst of the skirmish, a particularly large goblin blindsided you. You stumbled, the ground rushing up to meet you when suddenly, a strong arm pulled you back.

Wyll had swooped in, his rapier flashing as he dispatched the goblin with swift precision. In the heat of the moment, he didn’t realize the position he had put you in until it was too late. You were pinned beneath him, his body hovering protectively over yours, his face inches from yours.

"Are you hurt?" Wyll asked, his voice husky with exertion. His eyes searched yours for any sign of injury, his concern palpable.

"I’m fine," you managed to say, acutely aware of his proximity. The warmth of his body, the intensity in his eyes—it was overwhelming.

Wyll seemed to realize the compromising position and quickly helped you to your feet, his cheeks slightly flushed. "I, uh, didn’t mean to—" he began, looking a bit flustered.

You smiled, touched by his gallantry. "Thank you, Wyll. You saved me."

He gave a modest nod, his usual confidence returning. "It’s my duty, but I’m glad you’re safe. Let’s finish this fight together."

Raphael:

You were exploring the lavish House of Hope, Raphael’s opulent domain, when you felt a sudden trip. One of his servants had deliberately stuck out a foot, despising you for your special treatment from the master you assumed, and you stumbled forward, bracing for a hard fall.

Instead, you found yourself caught in Raphael’s arms, his grip firm and possessive. He had been waiting for this moment, his smirk revealing the truth—this was orchestrated. You were pinned against his chest, his eyes gleaming with amusement.

"My darling," Raphael purred, his voice dripping with false concern. "Are you alright? It seems my servant was careless."

You glared at him, the dots connecting, knowing full well this was his doing. "You planned this, didn’t you?" you accused, your face heating up from both the proximity and his audacity.

He chuckled, his hand stroking your back soothingly. "Perhaps. But can you blame me for wanting to catch you in my arms?"

His touch was intoxicating, his presence overwhelming. You couldn’t help but lean into him slightly, despite your irritation. "Raphael, you’re insufferable," you muttered, though there was no real anger in your voice.

He leaned in, his lips brushing your ear. "And yet, you are here, in my arms," he whispered, his breath sending shivers down your spine. "I’ll always catch you, darling."

With a resigned sigh, you allowed yourself a moment to enjoy his embrace. "Just don’t make a habit of it," you warned, though your words lacked conviction.

Raphael smiled, a glint of satisfaction in his eyes. "No promises."

Hope you all enjoy it ! - Seluney xxx