#don’t ask me about the way the moved like one on the battlefield or I WILL cry

[gay-dorito-dust]

I'm here with a Wuthering Waves request.

Could I request Jiyan with a s/o who likes talking about how pretty and handsome he is?

‘Look at you,’ you said softly as you held his face within your hands, fingertips caressing his skin as though it was made out of porcelain, while your gaze was transfixed on the many shades that made up his gorgeous eyes that always seemed to be set in a glare or deep thought. ‘Beautiful.’

Jiyan thought that after a while he would’ve gotten use to your honeyed words of sincerity and soft touches, however the general has found himself melting under your adoring gaze more times then he’d like to admit. With him being General it didn’t leave much room for you two to spend much time together, so when you do spend some time together Jiyan tries his hardest to make every second count as reconciliation for how often he’s away performing his duties.

You on the other hand didn’t mind it, sure it got lonely now and then but you’d always remind yourself that when your beloved general does come home from the battlefield, you got the opportunity to show just how much you appreciated him. You knew what you were getting into when you accepted his affections and became his partner, and as his partner it was your duty to take his mind off of his duties and bring about a sense of normality to his life.

‘Is there a reason you’re complimenting me?’ Jiyan asked, righting his hardest to not close his eyes upon feeling your fingertips caress his jaw in a way made every thought escape his head until all he could think of was how careful you were being with him.

‘I’m merely telling the truth my dear general, you are indeed a handsome man to gaze upon.’ You replied smiling warmly at him.

‘Is that why I always catch you looking at me as often as you do when I’m training?’ Jiyan raises his brow knowingly as you could only feel your cheeks flush at being caught but your couldn’t help it, you loved seeing your partner train as you got to watch him in his element and fall even more in love with him then you already had.

‘Guilty as charged,’ you chuckled as you pressed a kiss to his nose, ‘though I will not be made ashamed in watching my beloved general look ethereal and heavenly even when he’s working up a sweat.’ You added shamelessly.

Jiyan tightened his hold on your waist and pulled you in close. ‘You truly are a troublesome one aren’t you my love.’

‘Am I worth the trouble General?’ You asked him, looking deeply into those captivating eyes that you longed to look into their seemingly endless depths of pure gold forever.

‘You are indeed worth it and much more, it is I that should be asking you that question.’ Jiyan said as he recalled the important dates that he had missed due to his duties as general, he knew you didn’t resent him one bit for it, but that didn’t mean he himself had forgiven for missing out on the most important days of your life together.

You furrowed your brows as you saw a look of guilt and remorse cast over his face and you immeditly moved into action by planting kisses all over his face as you whispered sweet nothings to him. ‘You are anything but trouble my sweet, handsome Jiyan. The man with the prettiest golden eyes and the most beautiful blue hair that consumes my every waking thought to the point it maddens me.’ You pull away just to rest your forehead against his.

‘You may hold resentment towards yourself but I don’t, I miss you it’s true but my love for you is unending, I love you when you’re with me and I love you when you’re away fighting to protect our home. You are the most beautiful man I have ever laid eyes upon and I will say that until I have lost my voice completely.’ You steal a kiss from his lips. ‘You are worth every bit of me even if you may not think so but you are and I will spend the rest of my life proving that to you because if I don’t, then may my heart be forever incomplete without you. So please don’t doubt yourself because I don’t doubt who my heart chooses to love wholeheartedly.’ You finished.

Jiyan only pulled you in tightly against his chest as he burrowed his head into your shoulder to hide away his burning cheeks, the words he wanted to say had died upon his tongue when you bore your heart out to him, his eyes sealed shut as he took you in your entirety and engraved it to his memory for when he had to leave once more for the battlefield; hoping that your scent would cling to him so that he’d have something of you to keep him going when stuck in the front lines.

He just wanted to have some aspect of you with him as his own personal morale boost when he was feeling at a loss, but wouldn’t allow for the soldiers to see that side of him, for if the general is shown at a loss, then the soldiers are quick to loose hope, he has to be strong for them like a good general should from his troupes and be a human second. ‘My heart has always belonged to you my dear,’ he began, ‘I didn’t see it fit that I’d receive your honeyed words due to my frequent absences, but with your unconditional love i am sure to see myself the way you see me one day; if you’ll continue to help me.’ He finishes, tightening his hold on you.

You smiled brightly as you stole kiss from his lips. ‘Forever and always my pretty General.’

[snaileer]

Practice Your Skills

“You ever look at someone and wonder how hard it would be to get past their defenses and stab them?”

Damian snapped his head to the side, looking at the young boy now standing beside him.

The boy put his hands up in front of him with a wince, “Not that I ever do that. Totally not, whaaaat???”

Damian huffed and turned back around to watch the gala participants.

“It’s just you kinda looked like you were contemplating the logistics of stabbing Mrs.Halterguild for squeezing your cheeks.”

Damian scowled. Then, after a moment’s beat, “It would not be very difficult. She is nearly blind in her left eye, I would be able to approach without repost.”

The kid hummed, turning back as well before motioning to another group to the far right, “What about Mr. Beckensmith, he’s a retired vet right?”

Damian rolled his eyes and scowled harder, “The man has only seen the battlefield of an office as he bribed his way from being fully enlisted and instead managed to pay for increasingly higher ranks and medals. He is a disgrace.”

The kid cocked his head to the side, looking suspicious for a second and then nodding with concession, “Fair enough, I bet I could get close enough too.”

Damian scoffed.

“What, don’t believe me?”

Damian leveled a doubtful glare at the civilian, making it clear by looking him up and down, “Hardly.”

The other smirked dangerously, “If I can get close enough to poke him and get away without being noticed, will you believe me?”

Damian narrowed his eyes but nodded succinctly and watched as the boy immediately took off, making a few loops around other people before finally backing up to Mr. Beckensmith and poking him on the opposite side as a group moved past.

Damian pursed his lips. Interesting. Certainly better than he would expect from an amateur. And an amateur civilian at that.

When the boy returns to his side Damian brushes off the asks of meaningless praise.

“Come on, I did it, now you have to go poke Mrs. Halterguild without getting caught.”

Damian sneers, “And why would I do that?”

“Because I don’t believe you either, the woman’s old but I bet she sees you and squeezes your cheeks again. Old ladies just have a sixth sense for that stuff you know.”

Damian nearly growls but sets off on his task. He makes sure to stay on her left side, but the woman turns at the last second, forcing Damian to use a passing waiter as cover to remain hidden and finally get close enough to poke her gaudy dress.

Then he sidles back up to the boy on the edges and provides his best ‘I am more capable than you’ scowl. The boy simply laughs and says, “Who’s next?”

They spend the night like that, choosing each other’s targets to attack non-lethally as though they were attempting to stab them, and Damian finds the gala going by in a significantly less tedious manner.

Right up until the boy laughs at him when he chooses a target. Only one bark of laughter escapes, but it is enough for Damian to consider stabbing him as well. If only with a butter knife.

Instead, Damian grinds his teeth and asks, “What is so different about Masters, do you really believe you would be unable to succeed?”

The other gives a breathless chuckle, “I’m pretty sure even you wouldn’t be able to successfully stab Vlad Masters,” The boy’s shoulders sag even as his jaw tightens with irritation, “He sees everything.”

Damian narrows his eyes. Something naws at the back of his brain but currently the critique of his capabilities takes precedence.

“I would be capable of stabbing Masters even without my favored sword,” Damian scowls and stands taller with annoyance.

“Sure you can, man,” At this, the boy quirks a sharp smile, “If you can actually get him, I’ll personally get you a magic sword,” he says with an air of amused indulgence. Like he thinks Damian is some insipid child saying he will find a fairy.

Damian grits his teeth and shakes the other’s hand, then immediately sets off after his target. How dare this civilian question him! He is the Son of the Bat, this is not even a challenge!

Damian growls as his approach is thwarted for the third time by the man turning in his direction and almost spotting him. How dare he! He will not fail!

Just as he reaches to jab the man in the side, already poised to make his escape, Masters whips around and clamps his fingers around Damian’s wrist with a vice grip.

“Really Daniel I thought we were over-“ Masters pauses, looking at Damian critically as he glares at the man’s offending hand, “You are not young Daniel.”

“Remove your hand from my person at once,” Damian growls.

Instead of listening to Damian’s very sensible directions, Masters tightens his grip and twists his arm, most likely in an attempt to hurt him.

“Now why is a child attempting to-“

Damian doesn’t wait to hear the rest of the man’s words, sliding a dagger into his other hand and swinging towards him, until that hand is caught mid-movement as well.

“Heh-Hey there!”

Damian snaps his head to the side just in time to see Grayson take his dagger and slide it into his pocket. He ignores the bark of laughter he hears from across the room.

Masters’ hand disappears from his arm suspiciously fast, “Mr. Wayne, what a pleasure!”

Damian looks over his other shoulder to see his father standing behind him, a thin smile on his face, “Vladimir!”

His father’s figure quickly obscures his vision, putting an arm over Masters’ shoulders in a way that clearly makes him irritated but forces him to follow as he is steered away.

“Dami, I thought we talked about the stabbing at formal events,” Grayson says through a strained smile as he looks over the crowd to make sure no else saw.

“Tt, it was merely a demonstration of my skills, he was in no real danger until he refused to release me. I simply sought to correct that mistake.”

Grayson pinchesthe bridge of his nose, “Demonstration for who, Dames? We all already know your skills.”

“Tt,” Damian scowls and turns away.

Instead of pushing it, Grayson simply sighs heavily, “Just stay out of trouble for the rest of the gala okay? We’re almost done.”

Damian scoffed and waited for Grayson to leave. Once he does, Damian finally looks over to where he had been lingering with the boy.

Gone.

Clearly he’d taken the cowards way out when he’d seen that Damian had been accosted by Masters.

Pitiful.

Damian spends the rest of the night scowling from the wall and looking surreptitiously for a head of black hair and blue eyes unrelated to him.

Of course it’s not until they are actively leaving that Damian sees him and immediately splits off of from his family.

He approaches with irritation, preparing to grab the other by the shoulder when suddenly he turns around and blue eyes meet Damian’s green.

“You,” Damian sneers.

“Me,” The other shrugs. He has an amused smile on his face, though it’s strained at the edges.

They stare in silence for a minute, before the other’s smile grows and sharpens once more, “I didn’t expect you to actually try to stab him, y’know,” A slight laugh escapes him, “Not that it was unwelcome by any means, but still, unexpected.”

Damian scowls again, glaring at this foolish civilian.

“Oh, I never introduced myself did I?!”

The boy exclaims and holds out a hand, smile dangerous, “Daniel Fenton. Or if we’re being technical,” a pause as Damian finally returns the gesture and finds his hand trapped, “Daniel Masters, a pleasure to meet you Damian.”

“Hurry up little badger,” A voice says beside them, and Damian notices that it is indeed Vladimir Masters.

The man approaches, placing a heavy hand on Fenton’s shoulder, making the boy go taut, and then they both step into a dark car, leaving Damian on the front steps.

Damian’s anger flares and he shoots a glare directly to the boy getting into the car. It dies the moment they meet eyes and Damian sees the fear hiding in the other’s eyes.

Fear that Damian is all too familiar with.

Fear that reminded Damian of himself. Reminded him of his own eyes when he’d been under his grandfather.

But why did Fenton look like that?

[soullumii]

sleepyhead | gale dekarios x afab!reader

(18+!!!) afab!reader. second person pov. literally just smut: oral (f receiving), piv, dirty talk, consensual somnophilia. gale lives to please as always

my first gale fic... this man has taken over my entire life.

2k words

Gale’s lips press against yours in the dark, gentle and coaxing. A push and pull. You blink blearily awake from slumber as his hand finds your waist, fingers curling into the fabric of your sleep shift. His brown hair falls over the two of you like a curtain, shielding you from the terrors of the darkness.  

“Mm hello,” you purr against his lips. “What time is it?” You ask when he pulls back. He looks a bit wild, pupils blown wide, his eyes practically look black even in the dim candlelight. He’s breathing heavily, his gaze traveling over you, heated, like the air surrounding fire. He doesn’t answer. 

“Gale?” you repeat, warmth pooling in your belly at the pure desperation on his face. At the want curling in his eyes like a flame.

“It’s late,” he murmurs, voice rough, as though he’s parched. “Though I cannot stop thinking about you. I must…” he trails off, mind moving faster than his mouth can.

One thing you love about Gale is his ability to talk for seemingly hours on end with such eloquence and poetry. But when he’s like this…already hard against your thigh, slowly rutting his hips in circles, captured within pleasure, the words seem to leave him. You love it just as much, if not more. 

He leans in and runs his nose along your throat, breath ghosting over your skin. His teeth graze you, and his tongue follows, licking a stripe up your throat. You moan shakily, cunt clenching around nothing. 

“What’s gotten into you?” You ask, though it’s more breath than substance. Your brain is already beginning to short circuit, especially when the hand on your waist travels down to your thigh, fingertips pressing into the muscle there. 

“You just looked so beautiful on the battlefield today… I tried to contain myself because we had so much to do, but… fuck,” he breathes this against your neck, desperate. He hardly ever uses such vulgar language. “I need you, love.” 

“So you really weren’t lying when you told me you were turned on by my fighting,” you say, surprised.

“I am a lot of things, darling, but a liar is not one of them.”

The sound of his inhale as he leans down to kiss you again sends more molten pleasure swirling through you. 

His hips press against yours, grinding against your clothed cunt in a steady rhythm. You moan into his mouth, your hands reaching up to clench at his sleep shirt stretched over his broad back. 

You’re still sleepy as his hand drifts to the hem of your shift. He slowly pulls it up your thighs, up over your breasts, revealing your undergarments. He paws at your waistband like a cat begging for food. You lift your hips so he can pull them down over your ass. He undoes the ties to your bralette and slides it off your shoulders. 

Gale kisses his way down your body, stopping to close his warm mouth over a nipple while his dexterous hand squeezes and tugs at the other. You moan lightly, pleasure easing through you. He hums appreciatively against your skin, and the vibrations travel pleasantly through you.

“Gale…” you half murmur half moan as he moves his mouth to your other nipple. “I can hardly stay awake…” You feel yourself slipping in and out of consciousness. The gentle chirping of the crickets outside your tent doesn’t help.

“Of course,” he says, leaning back. “We can stop.”

“No—no wait,” you stop him with a hand curled around his wrist. “You can keep going while I’m sleeping, I don’t mind.” 

His eyes darken, his tongue dipping out to wet his lips. “Really? Are you quite sure?”

You nod with a sleepy smile and settle back comfortably. “Mhm.” 

“Tell me if you want me to stop,” he says, pressing another kiss to your lips. 

Your eyes flutter shut, your breathing slowing as you succumb to your exhaustion. Your limbs feel heavy, even as Gale continues his way down your body. 

“You’re so gorgeous, so perfect,” he whispers into your skin. His fingers curl into your thighs before he slowly pulls them apart, baring yourself to him.

He runs his hands appreciatively up and down your thighs, squeezing and kneading before hooking them over his shoulders.

Gale presses a kiss to the inside of your right thigh before retreating. You feel his lips again a second later, just between your thigh and cunt, mere centimeters from where you’re wet and aching for him.

And then you feel his warm breath puffing against your core, and your body squirms impatiently. You peek an eye open to watch him.

He looks so handsome as he glances up at you, eyes soft, mouth twitched into a smirk. “I thought you were going to sleep.”

“I am,” you reply, closing your eyes again. “Just wanted to admire the view one last time.” 

He chuckles lowly, “Sweet dreams, darling.”

He doesn’t move for a while, and you find yourself drifting off in the stillness. Your breathing slows, your mind growing quiet as sleep takes over you.

---

The moment your breaths even out as your hands fall slack against your sides, Gale presses his face between your thighs. He uses the flat of his tongue to lick a long, hot stripe through your folds. You taste delicious on his tongue, and gods you’re so wet. You’re soaking his beard, and he’s hardly been between your thighs for longer than ten seconds.

He doesn’t care. You keep releasing cute little moans in your sleep as he takes you apart brick by brick. Or rather… lick by lick.

His hands grip your waist, keeping you close. Your hips buck involuntarily to meet his mouth, grinding against his face. Even in your sleep you’re seeking out pleasure from him. 

God forbid he won’t deliver.

He pulls back one of his hands to slide a finger into you. It goes easily. He adds another without any resistance. You’re so incredibly wet. He wants to remain between your thighs forever. Your sweet, slick arousal runs down his hand to his wrist, and he bends his head to lick it off. 

His hips rut against the floor of his tent, the act of eating you out so arousing to him he has to seek his own pleasure to mitigate the pain. He doesn’t mind. He’d rather see you cum over and over again before he ever does.

He slowly thrusts his fingers into you while mouthing at your clit, delighting in your shaky breaths and wanton moans. You look gorgeous, brows screwed together, sweat beading on your temple. You’re going to wake up soon, and damnit he’ll make sure it’s while you’re cumming.

---

Warmth kindles between your thighs, pleasure and arousal pooling deep in your belly, tingling in your toes and rising through you.

Sleep drifts away from you, hanging onto the recesses of your mind, but ultimately not strong enough against the building pleasure you feel. 

You chase the feeling, the promise of sweet release. Your surroundings slowly begin to materialize around you. The feeling of your bedroll clenched between your fingers, the undeniable feeling of a mouth between your legs, the sound of low, rumbling, appreciative moans that vibrate through you.

Even the sound of your own cries are registering in your mind. 

The melting pleasure collapses into one pinpoint. A supernova explodes within you as your clit is sucked diligently while the two, long fingers buried inside you hook to press against your g-spot. 

Your back bows, eyes flying open as you cum against Gale’s warm and inviting mouth with a cry of his name. He guides you through it with gentle laps of his tongue through your folds. He mumbles words of encouragement, but they’re lost against your skin. 

“Fuck,” you breathe. “Gale.”

“Mm.” You can practically feel his pride radiating off of him from making you come. 

He continues to lick you through it until you’re coming again, hands fisted in his hair as his lips suck once more on your clit, his fingers fucking into you. Your legs quiver atop his shoulders, your mind utterly fucked into emptiness.

When it’s all too much you push him away, breathing heavily, contented tears in your eyes.

“Holy shit,” you huff, trying to catch your breath. “Maybe you should wake me up like that more often.”

His eyes sparkle excitedly. “If that is what you wish, I’d be glad to.” 

“You are such a giver. You really should let me take care of you sometimes.”

He shrugs. “I like giving. It brings me great pleasure to reside between your thighs for as long as you can stand.”

You sigh at his fanciful words, but you appreciate his adoration all the same. He crawls forward as you lean up to kiss him, the taste of yourself on his tongue rekindling the fire in your gut. His hand winds its way into your hair, the other squeezes your hip. 

“I need you inside me,” you whisper against his lips. “Now.” 

He groans, fingers flexing in your hair. Your body jolts with arousal at the sweet tug. 

“Say no more,” Gale says. “Your wish is my command.”

He takes off his trousers then rolls you onto your stomach. His hands grip your hips, pulling your ass up and backwards, and his knee comes between your thighs to press them apart. 

He guides the head of his cock through your slick folds and your hips squirm in anticipation.

He leans across your back, pressing a kiss to your shoulder blade. “I wish you could see yourself on the battlefield. The way you look with someone else’s blood on your armor… The flush on your cheeks… The way you breathe… You’re so capable, so strong. I cannot help but stare.”

He eases his cock inside you and the two of you moan in tandem at the delightful feeling. Him, at your warmth. You, at the undeniable feeling of being filled. 

He bites lightly at your shoulder before whispering in your ear. “Sometimes I wish I could take you right there. In front of all of our friends and dead foes.”

You clench around him at his words, and he groans, hips snapping forward. You jolt against the bedroll, elbows digging into the feather down material. 

“Gale,” you whimper. 

He hums, “Yes. You’d be saying my name just. Like. That.” He delivers those three last words with hard thrusts, the sound of his skin slapping against yours echoing in the tent. 

He builds up the pace, fucking into you steadily. Your cheek squishes against your pillow as he fills you, your mind still sleepy but undeniably consumed by lust and love.

“What do you think? Would you like that, love? Would you like to be fucked in front of all our companions?” 

“Yes,” you breathe. “Yes, please, Gale. Need you—“

“Mm, that’s it,” he murmurs. His hand skates across your stomach as his warm fingers settle over your clit. “As much as I’d love to indulge the fantasy, I’m not sure I’d want them to watch.” 

He begins to circle your clit with reverence, in time with his thrusts as he pushes you closer and closer to the edge.

“I want you all to myself,” he grits. 

You cry out, melting against him, knees buckling as you reach your release. It rips through you, hard and fast. Unrelenting. A wildfire raging through your nerves. 

Gale chases after his own climax, thrusts growing sloppy and deeper, moans and praises spilling from his lips before he finally cums inside you, hips twitching. 

Your body trembles as the aftershocks roll through you. 

You collapse onto the bedroll, breathing heavily, and Gale pulls you into him. You both lie on your sides, him softening inside you. He buries kisses into your neck, his arms wrapped around your waist. 

“Are you all right?” he asks you, his thumb brushing comfortingly along your rib cage. 

“So good,” you respond, brain blissfully empty, as if the tadpole never existed. You already feel sleep crawling across your mind again, pulling you under. You yawn and grin happily, like a cat that’s gotten its warm milk. 

“Going back to bed already?” he teases, leaning up to press a kiss to your cheek. “I wear you out that much?” 

“Mhmm…”

“All right. Go to sleep darling. I’ll clean you up.”

You’re already halfway asleep when you feel his tongue dip into you once more, licking his cum out from inside you—

Oh well. You can catch up on sleep tomorrow.

[tetsuskei]

⟣ tartaglia

notes: based off the fact that i am indeed a sleepy drunk, and also inspired by diluc’s lore with firewater, also childe lore. he can smell when something is done cooking?

warnings: self indulgent, childe is referred to by his birth name, russian pet names, suggestive themes, fluff

it’s always a beautiful sight to see your boyfriend, ajax, when he cooks in the kitchen.

second to the battlefield, this place is his domain. the sound of soft music plays in the background, and he’s completely in his element. the ginger moves his hips to the rhythm, swaying ever so gracefully while mumbling the lyrics to the current song under his breath. he’s always been a great dancer, so you’re not surprised. it makes you wonder if there’s anything he’s not good at.

you always adore seeing him in atmospheres such as this one, especially with how much he loves to cook. his lips are pursed in concentration, a cute crinkle to his nose on display from the small frown on his face. all of his movements are skilled and dexterous. his knife abilities—albeit ignoring the fact that he’s a harbinger—are precise and quick, almost like everything he’s doing is a second thought.

it may be the alcohol you had talking, or the everlasting love you have for him—or maybe both that gets you feeling extremely soft. the urge to kiss away the expression on his face is high, but you hold back on distracting him and starting something else entirely.

and speaking of distractions, your handsome boyfriend is sporting a v-neck crew shirt and some sweatpants. much different from his sharp work attire. and although loose, the material of his clothes are still somewhat form fitting. his back muscles had been flexing every so often in a way that makes it hard to peel your eyes away. you silently curse his lean muscular self for looking so soft and domestic. just really, how shameless—

“hey! you’re supposed to be helping, not slacking off!” ajax scolds, pointing a wooden spoon at you in a chastising way. but the playful lit to his tone suggests otherwise as he cocks his head, smiling. “mila, what are you daydreaming about from over there?”

you giggle, “sorry, i’m just admiring the view.”

he hums, his smile growing. “and is the view to your liking?”

“it’s likely.” you answering padding over to him.

“i hope so. i don’t look this good for nothing.”

once in his radius, he pulls you into his side, swaying you both as he stirs the food. he quietly tells you it’s his mother’s recipe and his favorite thing to make.

“may i try some?” you ask.

wordlessly, your boyfriend holds out a spoonful for you, and you happily eat off of the utensil. the juices and flavors evade your mouth, beating the rich aroma you’ve succumbed to long ago.

you close your eyes in bliss, blinking them open happily. “wow! it’s delicious, ‘jax!”

“it’s not done yet.” he explains, humbly. “almost, but not quite.”

“okay, perfectionist.” you laugh, going back for more. “still good enough to me.”

he pushes your hand back. “you’ll spoil your appetite.” he warns, frowning.

“i promise i don’t want a lot. just a smidge more. please?” you look up at him with the biggest doe eyes you can muster, and he falters, trying to look away and focus back on what he’s doing.

as uncharacteristic as it may seem, ajax does not put up very much of a fight. not that he could ever say no to you anyways.

he sighs, “alright…fine.”

while you sit and eat (after clearly giving up on helping), your boyfriend starts to ramble about some theater performance he wants to take you to in fontaine.

“so what do you think?”

you hum quietly in response, your cheek on your hand. “mmh that sounds nice…”

ajax glances over at you, concerned. you had grown awfully quiet.

“are you alright?” he asks, inspecting the rest of you for any strange signs. “we don’t have to go if you don’t want to.”

“i want to, yes!” your thoughts are jumbled. “and m’fine. why?” you add to reassure him, “just tired.”

‘tired? you were fine just fifteen minutes ago. so full of energy, actually’ he thinks, watching the way your eyes are suddenly drooping.

“well don’t worry, i’m almost done.” ajax assures.

“hey. did you put this in the food?” you hold up the open bottle of white wine, and some of the contents spill out. however, your boyfriend is quick to grab it once seeing how you’re swaying.

suddenly it all clicks in his brain. “ahh, i might’ve put in too much.” he chuckles, now noting the smell of the food a little bit different than usual. stronger and sharper like the wine. “that explains things. plus the firewater we had from earlier.” he recalls you taking an impressive amount of shots, trying to out beat him.

“didn’t you once say something about sharing firewater with someone in the cold makes them trustworthy? i’ve done half the battle!” you say with pride, albeit wobbling a little. “let’s go sit outside later! we’ll see who freezes first!”

ajax stares at you in awe before laughing—loudly.

“milaya, you always surprise me with just how cute you can be.” he pinches your cheeks before moving his hand to your lower back, steering you towards the couch. “now come on, sit down. you’re going to fall over at this rate.”

“‘kay.” you mumble, letting him guide you. you don’t really feel yourself moving until the plush cushion under you meets your bottom.

“i’m just going to clean up and i’ll be right back. i promise.” he reassures, squeezing your hand before releasing it.

you jump back up eagerly, “i’ll help!”

“no, you’ll stay here.” he pushes you back down gently before standing up himself. there’s a stern look on his face as he says, “you’ve had too much to drink. that’s my fault.”

a small huff leaves your mouth and you pout. your eyes start to water. “then…at least sit with me!”

“the kitchen has to be cleaned up, lisichka.” he reminds gently.

your eyes grow wetter. “the kitchen is more important than me?”

he gives you a look. “nothing could ever be more important than you. you know that.”

“then…you’ll stay. it is your fault after all.”

he laughs, scratching the back of his head, “alright then. but only for a little bit.”

the minute he sits down, you promptly slide yourself onto his lap, wordlessly making yourself comfortable.

“oh? what’s this?” his heart swells. you’re usually too shy to initiate something like this, often leading him to pulling you onto him.

there’s a confused look on your face. “you said to sit down and stay here, so i’m doing that.” you blink slowly, head tilting. “did i sit wrong?”

“no, of course not.” he answers, kissing your forehead. thankfully you’re too out of it to tease him, or he’d never hear the end of it.

he shifts you so your legs straddle his lap. your face is buried in his neck, breathing in the smell of his aftershave and the pinewood scent of him. one hand reaches up towards his soft locks and mindlessly plays with it.

ajax feels his entire being burning with exhilaration. while he knows how to handle his alcohol way better than you do, he is not immune to your touches. he could get intoxicated and drunk on any little thing you do.

a satisfied exhale leaves the man and he closes his eyes for moment, his nose nuzzling your cheek. the feeling of your warm palms sliding across his face pull him out of the moment before your eyes meet.

you hum, staring at him closely. “have your eyes always looked like this?” you ask.

he blinks. “like what? and why?”

“they’re so blue. i’ve never seen eyes like yours before.”

“no, they haven’t.” he answers honestly. he tries to avert his attention away from you, but your hands grab his face again.

“they’re so pretty…like the ocean…” you breathe, now poking at his freckles. “you’re so pretty…”

the man is pretty sure he’s blushing right now when you speak, rambling and comparing him like the sea. of the comforting warmth and unpredictability of the weather, all comparable to his nature—which you love.

you must be trying to kill him, because what he doesn’t expect next is for you to kiss him on the nose, and then his cheeks.

by the time he’s chasing your lips with his own, you’re pulling back, giggling quietly.

“hey, you can’t just tease like that—“ you slump against him, and he freezes, eyes widening.

“milaya?”

“…”

pulling your face back from his chest, he notes that you’ve passed out.

ajax tugs you tight in his hold, tucking your face in the crook of his neck. the smell of your hair makes his heart grow even bigger and fonder.

“by the tsaritsa, my cute girlfriend can’t hold her alcohol well,” he laughs to himself, absently tracing shapes into your lower back, “i’m sure glad this happened at home, or god knows what would happen out in public.”

he doesn’t really know if he’d be more worried about your own safety, or the things he’d do if someone dared to take advantage of you.

either way, his endless vow to protect you couldn’t be broken anyway anyhow. not even in death. he’d be loyal to you for a thousand life times.

bonus:

waking up groggily, you rub your eyes, shield them from from the unavoidable brightness of the sun.

while warm light hits your face, it only makes you feel hot and cold all at the same time. a feeling that should be welcoming only suffocates you instead as an ache converges the nerve points in your head.

“rise and shine sleeping beauty.”

you turn limply, eyes widening at the sight of ajax standing in the doorway.

“i was really hoping on you waking up soon.” he says pushing the door open further. he holds a tray of food in his hands. padding over to you he nods to the water and ibuprofen on the bedside table. “once you eat some, you should really take that.”

maybe its the sleep in your eyes or the fact that you’re not fully awake yet, but you tear up. “you’re always taking care of me.”

“yep, that is my job.” he places the food down, leaning over to kiss away any stray tears.

“thank you.”

he clicks his tongue. “what did i tell you about thanking me for things like this?”

you roll your eyes. such a stubborn man.

you quietly tell him that your brain is foggy, and while you partially don’t want to know, wish that he recall what last happened when you were awake.

“you should’ve seen how cute you were while drunk. i don’t think i could ever forget it.” he laughs once he’s done recapping.

blood rushes to your cheeks, your face aflame. “i’m not going to be able to live this down, am i?”

ajax laughs again, “don’t think so! although, being passed out for pretty much the whole day is alarming, so i don’t think we will be letting you near any alcohol anytime soon.”

your shoulders droop, “i guess that’s fair…”

“don’t be so sad! here, let me feed you!” he moves behind you, sitting down on the bed so his legs are on either side of you. his chest presses into your backside as he reaches for the food.

“‘jax i can feed myself just fine.” you say, going for the spoon, but his reflexes are faster.

“please?” he looks down at you, hoping his ocean hues favor him.

you sigh. “fine.”

the two of you sit in comfortable silence as he feeds you, and you being hungrier than you realize, finish everything quickly.

“i almost forgot! you owe me something.” he says coyly.

you frown, “huh?”

“after all that teasing yesterday…you left me high and dry…” he sniffs.

you blink, and suddenly it’s clear what he’s insinuating. “a kiss?”

“so you remember?” he asks.

you shrug, “just barely…”

“well, now that you’re aware—“ he scoots towards you, knees bumping your own before he’s pulling you towards him.

a yelp leaves you. “b-but i just ate food! and…and i need to brush my teeth!” you protest, but he’s still hovering close over you.

“so?”

there’s no use, because the minute you open your mouth to reply, ajax swoops down, kissing you wordlessly and hungrily. his tongue brief swipes over yours before he soon pulls back.

there’s a mild grimace on his face, “yeah, go brush your teeth.”

you shove him back on the bed, making him holler with laughter, “i told you!”

“it was still worth it, mila!” he shouts after you.

“fuck you.” you spit.

“with pleasure.” he smiles.

notes: my mom added too much white wine to food she made, so she’s the running inspiration for this. shout out to her!

[awkward-tension-art]

Clones as expectant fathers

I am an actual nero-cancer researcher. I have a job and a degree. And my ADHD brain saw sad military men and went “I want that one”

Clones: Rex, Wolffe, Fox, Cody and Fives

CW: pregnancy, the clones all have a ‘secret’ SO, They are expecting a baby, A little angsty with Fox, there's slight mentions of smut with Fives (if you squint), swearing, this is just supposed to be a good time, its not reader insert

Minors do not interact!

Rex

Terrified. Also overjoyed. But mostly terrified. 

He’s a soldier. Captain of the 501st, the most….adventurous of the GAR. His chances of dying on the battlefield and leaving his SO behind are higher than the average clone

And now he may leave behind his child? His kid may grow up without a father

He gets nervous. Anxious and antsy, and it's very VERY easy for Anakin to figure out Rex isn’t entire OK

Rex doesn’t even need to tell Anakin.

Skywalker takes one look at him and just KNOWS.

“Congrats, Rex.” “...on what, sir?” “If it's a boy, name him after me.” “WHAT!?”

Ahsoka needs to be told and she’s more excited than Rex when she finds out. 

“Come on Rex! Name them after me! The republic needs an Ahsoka jr!” “And if the baby is a boy?” “Don’t name them after skyguy, please!”

Most of the 501st don't know. Too many people knowing raises the chance of less accepting individuals knowing. And if that happens, Rex, his SO and his baby may be in danger.

It’s forbidden for the clones to have SO’s, not to mention babies. It could end with Rex being decommissioned or reconditioned if it was found out he had both

Rex will visit and help as much as he can every chance he gets. He feels terrible for leaving his SO for long stretches of time during the pregnancy. 

He WANTS to be there…he just can’t. Not while the war was going on

Despite his terror, Rex is…overjoyed

He didn’t think children were possible for him. He knew it could happen, but he didn’t think HE would ever know this happiness

The first time he feels his baby move in his SO, he’d get this sweetest smile on his face. He’ll kiss the baby bump and just murmur words of love in mando’a

He falls head-over-heels in love all over again

As the due date approaches, Anakin asks an important question

“Captain, I need to know when your baby might be born.” “...why, sir?” “Because I need to know when to take extended leave.”

Anakin tells Padme, and she is beyond sweet. Even visits Rex’s SO and the two have a wonderful friendship

All in all, Rex is both excited and anxious. But having so much support from Anakin, Ahsoka and Padme (and his other brothers who find out much later) helps him a lot

Wolffe

More relaxed. And by relaxed I mean he hides his anxiety better. And it doesn’t exactly hit him as hard

Partly because Plo Koon and the entire Wolfpack knows about his relationship already. 

So you bet your ass the pack celebrates when Wolffe tells them he's going to be a father

Plo Koon especially is excited

“How wonderful, new life being born during times of war” “I’m not naming my child after you, general Plo.” “Nonsense! The child will be a girl.”

During battle, Wolffe finds himself being protected by his brothers and General a tad more

At first he writes it off as a coincidence, but then Boost lets slip during a battle “You gotta get back to your little one!”

He gives his men a bit of a lecture. He’s not incapable of fighting or defending himself. He thinks the message gets across but Plo chimes in with, “Ah yes, the stern words of a father already!”

Wolffe would probably see his SO more frequently than Rex. Just because Plo would more than likely spend more time on Coruscant.

He’s definitely protective. As in, waking up in the middle of the night to check all the windows, protective. Keeping an arm around his SO, protective. Every symptom or sign of discomfort he calls a medical droid, protective.

He’s not stupid, he is well aware that by having an SO and a child on the way he's in violation of several rules. All of which, when broken, would have him decommissioned

But dammit, he's not letting that happen. Wolffe will be there for his SO and his baby, no matter what

Since he’s able to spend more time with his SO, he’s there to feel the first movements of his baby.

It sort of causes him to short-circuit for a second. It hits him that yes, this is a life that he and his SO both created. Out of love.

Wolffe makes a swear that he’s going to protect his baby at all costs

Grandpa Plo does as well, but the Wolfpack doesn’t know that

Fox (kinda angst)

First of all congratulations to the SO for actually managing to be Fox’s SO

They got to be something special for the head of Palpatine’s personal guard to break rules and regulations and find himself an SO

Speaking of Palpatine, congratulations to Fox! Your SO is now in even more danger!

No, seriously. Palpatine knows before Fox. No one knows how, but he knows.

And he absolutely will use Fox’s SO as leverage to keep him under control

And Fox knows this, so he behaves. More so than usual.

He’s not blind. Hes fiercely loyal to the republic, but one step out of line and the (very few) things he cares about will be killed

Which…is why Fox may come across as cold or uninterested when his SO informs him of their pregnancy

A part of him is terrified, he just won’t show it

He’s not going to be more affectionate or anything. He actually acts pretty normal. Which is standoffish.

Despite his…demeanor, he actually manages to be present for the entirety of the pregnancy. It helps being a Coruscant guard, which means he’s more present than all the other clones.

He’s not moving mountains or anything, but he’ll get snacks in the middle of the night in case of cravings

No one else knows about Fox and his SO. not even his own men. He refuses to tell anyone. 

Its for his SO’s protection

But Palpatine, the sick fuck, slips some words to get Fox’s nerves into overdrive

“This war is taking such a toll. So many dead children…so many grief stricken parents” “Sir?” “Oh nothing. Just stating the fact that the loss of an innocent life, such as…a baby, is always a tragedy. Wouldn’t you agree, commander?”

He found himself walking home a bit faster that day and hugs his SO a little tighter that night

Fox cares, in his own way. He’s just beyond stressed and anxious. But you wouldn’t know. He hides it behind a mask. 

It's actually Padme that finds out. And she feels somewhat bad for Fox. She thinks his anxiety comes from the fact that clones aren't allowed SO’s or children

Which, it is, but theres the added threat of fucking Palpatine.

She ends up getting him to tell her the truth and she swears to secrecy. Even offers to hire his SO as some sort of assistant, if only so Fox can be closer to his SO

Hear me out, he actually breaks down when he feels the baby move. He can’t fully handle it anymore and shuts down. 

This is a baby. His baby. They're alive and already so loved.

Something in him clicks and he accepts Padme’s help. 

His terror gets easier, ever so slightly. But he keeps his collected and calm front.

Cody

“General Kenobi-” “Ah! Commander Cody! Congratulations!”

goddamnit.exe

Cody is a tad more relaxed than Rex, but more tense than Wolffe

He knows Kenobi isn’t going to punish him or force him back to Kamino for decommissioning, he’s still a little on guard.

But, since Kenobi knows, Anakin does. So does Ahsoka. Which means Rex knows.

goddamnit2.exe

More people in the 501st know than in the 212th which gives him the biggest headache

Waxer knows though. Cody had to tell someone that wasn’t a sarcastic general

He does a good job hiding his worry though

Cody is able to spend about the same amount of time as Rex with his SO

He doesn’t feel as bad as Rex when it comes to the lack of presence he has during the pregnancy

It's war. It sucks and he’d prefer to be there for his SO, but he’d also prefer SO and child have freedom from the separatists

I will say, he is pretty attentive when he isn’t off in space.

Foot rubs, shoulders massages, helping with cravings

One thing Cody does is that he’ll wrap his arms under his SO’s baby bump and lift it slightly, giving his SO’s back some relief

He really loves to do this because his SO just melts

Hear me out, Cody gets giggly when he feels the baby move/kick the first time

His palm is on the bump and he feels that first little flutter against his hand

404 Commander Cody has his amygdala broken from joy. Reboot?

He’ll actually tell Kenobi about it because he’s so happy.

“That's wonderful Cody, but I still question one thing.” “What is it, sir?” “How you managed to get laid to begin with.”

Goddamnit3.exe

Fives

“Hey everyone! I’m gonna be a dad!”

Ecstatic is not a strong enough word

Also not subtle at all

There is a solid 3 hours until everyone in the 501st knows

He’s told Echo before the first hour. Rex knew within 2 hours.

Fives is BEYOND over the moon

He gets this small smile on his face that just doesn’t go away

Whenever he’s not with his SO, he definitely calls them every day. He wants updates on the little one

Also, seeing his SO with a baby bump? Unlocks something inside his brain.

Fives is incredibly horny when he’s with his SO. He’ll be rubbing their middle and getting a puppy dog look in his eye.

Only if his SO is in the mood of course! He’d never try and be forceful

He’s probably the clone that takes the distance the hardest. He debates taking a ship and making a run for Coruscant on more than one occasion.

In the end he settles to ask Anakin for extended leave.

Anakin is also extremely happy for Fives. Like with Rex, he makes a “name the baby after me” joke

Fives brings that up to his SO and nearly gets smacked. He also makes a “Fives jr.” joke and actually does get smacked.

When Fives feels the baby kick, he gets high on happiness. Actual mumbling incoherent words of love and affection in Mando’a

Lots and lots of “Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum”

He also gets very VERY affectionate with his SO

Kisses his SO’s face a lot. Even as a greeting, he’ll just start peppering their cheeks with pecks

Also probably the only one ballsy enough to ASK his general for extended leave

“Excuse me, general Skywalker? I’ll need to take leave at this date.” “Oh, yea sure. You know what? That seems like a good time for all the men to take a break. Thanks, Fives.”

He’s also probably the only one ballsy enough to actually take his new born baby onto a fucking battleship to introduce everyone.

“This is your uncle Rex. This is your uncle Echo and your uncle Tup. That's your auntie Ahsoka!” “Fives what the FUCK are you doing?!” “Introducing the family, captain.”

[shonen-brainrot]

Together - Bakugo x Reader (comfort)

masterlist

The soft light of early morning spills through the window, painting the bedroom in hues of gold and rose. You wake to the familiar weight of his arm draped across your waist, his breathing steady and deep, his face relaxed in a rare, peaceful expression. Katsuki Bakugo doesn’t look this calm often, not anymore. Not since the war.

You move carefully, not wanting to disturb him. But as you try to shift, his grip tightens ever so slightly. Even in sleep, his instincts are sharp. You glance over your shoulder, catching the way his jaw clenches, his brows furrowing in that familiar scowl even now.

You wonder if he’s dreaming of the battlefield again.

It’s been nearly 10 years since the dust of the final battle settled. The world has changed so much. The heroes are rebuilding, trying to restore what was lost. Bakugo’s name is whispered with reverence across the nation — Dynamight, the one who helped bring peace. But to you, he’s Katsuki. Your Katsuki, the boy who used to snarl at you for getting too close, and now, the man who can’t sleep without his hand resting on your skin, as if anchoring himself to something that isn’t the chaos.

You can tell when he’s having a bad day. He doesn’t talk about it — he never does — but the tension in his shoulders, the way his eyes cloud over, those signs are enough. You’ve learned to read him in ways no one else can. But you wish, sometimes, that he would share the weight he carries, that he’d let you into the storm raging in his mind.

“Katsuki,” you whisper, gently shifting to face him. The sound of his name from your lips, soft and tender, works like a tether. His eyes flutter open, and for a moment, they’re unfocused, still lost in the remnants of some distant war.

He blinks, and the sharpness returns. He’s here. With you.

“Morning,” he grumbles, his voice rough with sleep. His hand moves to your cheek, calloused fingers brushing a stray lock of hair behind your ear. It’s a small gesture, one that he doesn’t even seem to think about, but it sends warmth blooming in your chest. The touch is gentle — so unlike the explosive power in his hands when he’s out there saving the world. 

You lean into his touch, your eyes locking with his. The scars on his face are more prominent in the morning light, reminders of the battles you both fought to get here. But to you, they’re not marks of violence. They’re proof of his resilience, his strength, his will to survive and protect.

“You okay?” you ask softly, knowing the answer but asking anyway. 

He huffs, his typical response, but his thumb brushes against your cheek with a tenderness he doesn’t often let others see. “Tch. 'Course I am.”

You smile, but it’s tinged with concern. You know him better than that. You reach up, taking his hand in yours and pressing a kiss to his knuckles, feeling the small tremor that runs through him at the intimate gesture. His walls are strong, but they crumble for you, in moments like these, when the world feels far away and it's just the two of you, suspended in the quiet aftermath of everything.

“You don’t have to pretend, you know,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. “Not with me.”

His eyes darken for a moment, the weight of your words sinking in. He shifts, sitting up in bed, running a hand through his messy blonde hair, which falls rebelliously across his face. He doesn’t respond right away. Bakugo’s never been good with words, not when it comes to things that matter most. But then, after a long pause, he sighs.

“It’s just…” He stops, jaw tightening. “It’s not over. Not for me.”

You reach out, gently brushing the hair out of his eyes, the same way he always does for you. The small act feels like an unspoken promise — that you’re here, that you always will be by his side.

“I know,” you say softly. “But you don’t have to go through it alone. I’m here, Katsuki. Always.”

His eyes meet yours, and for a moment, the vulnerability there takes your breath away. He reaches for you, pulling you close, his face buried in the crook of your neck. It’s not an apology, not an admission of weakness. But in his silence, you find his answer.

You hold him, running your fingers through his hair, feeling his heartbeat slowly calm against yours. The world may never fully heal from the wounds left behind, but in this moment, here with him, you believe that you both will find a way to keep moving forward. Together.

[justwinginglife]

Lucky Shot

Guys, this fic came about totally by accident, but I had SO SO much fun writing it. Sorry, I know I'm supposed to be working on requests, but this just spontaneously popped into my head and when inspiration strikes, I gotta go with it. Also, for warnings, this has a mature scene but it's not explicit. Hope you all enjoy!

When a beach trip with Soshiro ended in the murder of a rubber duck, you knew there was more to him than meets the eye.

You’d been secretly dating him the last 7 months and during that time, he had begged you on multiple occasions to let him take you to the beach. He always claimed he just wanted to have a relaxing vacation with his favorite person in the whole world, but you knew he was just dying to know if you were a bikini kinda girl.

You resisted at first, finding entertainment in his eagerness. He was so desperate for you to go with him, you were sure if you asked, he would’ve gotten down on his hands and knees to convince you. But there were only so many times you could say no to the pleading in his eyes, only so many times you could resist the press of his hips against yours as he murmured his requests across the expanse of your neck. 

“Please, baby.” He’d gently brush your hair to the side, sucking at the tender skin, then kissing at the trail of bruises that bloomed in its wake. “Let’s go to the beach, love. Let me see you all gorgeous and sun-kissed. Let me lick the salt from your lips.”

And suddenly your resolve crumbled to pieces. 

You were a Captain, you were by no means weak. You were one of Death’s favorite tools, the reaper of beasts, the killer of kaiju. But around Soshiro? You were helpless, robbed of your strength by mere lips on skin. For Soshiro, you were a love-drunk fool, and when he whispered into your ear, “Didn’t you say you’d never had sex in the ocean before? Why don’t we cross it off the bucket list,” you suddenly forgot the reason you’d resisted for so long.

So you went to the beach with him. 

And when Soshiro discovered that you were in a fact a bikini kinda girl, he made sure you never forgot how it felt to have the whip of the ocean waves at your back as he fucked you against the current. When the sun dipped behind the clouds, you wondered if it was simply shying away from the carnality of it all. If anyone were to make the sun blush at their obscenities, it would be Soshiro, with his ravenous desires and his unabashed lust. The vulgar way in which he had so publicly claimed you was enough to convince you that any poor soul who had been on the beach must’ve vacated the premises for fear of being corrupted by the sight of his lecherous appetite. 

When his thirst was finally somewhat quenched, he proceeded to engage in a different kind of activity with you, one that was equally as strenuous, one that waged war on your unsuspecting body. He shot you with a water gun. 

Before you had time to be properly shocked at the sudden change in his demeanor, he shot you again, pelting the center of your forehead with a short burst of cold water. 

Your pride as a gun wielder was on the line and you ducked out of the way of his next shot, before collecting your gun from the sand and firing rounds at his crotch. He was lucky it was only water because you were a damn good shot.

The next thing you knew, the beach was a battlefield and he was the enemy. You ducked behind palm trees and dove across sand dunes, both of you trying to get the upper hand on the other, both of you launching vicious attacks. You’d always fought by his side; it was intriguing to now stand opposed to him. You knew his every move, but he also knew yours. When you’d reveal your position, stepping out to fire at his chest, he’d emerge from his hiding spot and land a blow to your shoulder at the same time. It was like he was your perfect shadow. 

Amidst the raging chaos, you thought to yourself that you never once imagined when you were both sworn into the Defense Force that all that training and all that combat experience would one day be used for something as stupid and as silly as a water gun war. But there you were, two highly esteemed, highly trained, highly ranked members of the JAKDF, dueling with water as your weapons. And you were both taking this so seriously that it was honestly laughable. 

And you did laugh. 

When he gave up on shooting you, tossing the toy to the side, and opting for tackling you into the water instead, you laughed so hard you thought you might swallow half the ocean in the process. Then the calm finally settled in and he just held you a moment, waves lapping at your bodies, as his warmth seeped into your skin. 

You broke the silence first, grinning widely as you teased him, “And here I thought you were bad with a gun.” 

He laughed. “I never said I was bad with one. I said my combat power was low. I never said I couldn’t shoot.”

“And I had to find this out by getting a burst of water to the eye?” 

A sly smile curved across his lips. “I never said I couldn’t aim.”

“Oh yeah? Let’s test out this aim of yours.”

So suddenly you found yourself with your feet planted in the sand, standing a couple feet away from him with a little rubber duck he’d bought from one of the beach stalls perched atop your head, daring him to fire, daring him to fail. 

“You get one shot. And if you miss, we’ll know I’m the better shot.” 

He smirked. “Oh, I won’t miss, love.”

He pulled the trigger and in an instant, the rubber duck was lying face down in the sand. 

You gasped with mock offense. “You just killed my present. You just committed ducky murder.” 

He chuckled. “I’m the one who bought it for you; I think I have the right to kill it.”

As you bent down to pick up the duck, a thought crossed your mind.

“Hey. Who else knows you can shoot?”

He raised an eyebrow inquisitively. “Not many people. Why?”

You grinned devilishly. “I just discovered a new game I’d like to try.”

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next day, the local carnival opened up in town and half the Third Division had flooded the festival grounds, looking for a good time. 

Up until now, you and Soshiro had kept your relationship under wraps, even going so far as to bicker publicly so as to douse any sneaking suspicions of a possible budding romance. So when your favorite vendor opened up his shooting stall, the way he did every year, you knew that no one in the Third Division would suspect you of rigging the game. 

A crowd slowly gathered around the stall as you openly and loudly degraded Soshiro’s shooting skills, betting him that he couldn’t even hit one of the targets let alone all of them. When other officers caught wind of your challenge, they immediately started placing their bets.

“Have you ever even seen the Vice Captain shoot a gun?” Haruichi asked, turning to Nakanoshima as he pondered his choice. 

Her brows furrowed, “Maybe? I’m not sure. I can’t remember.”

He finally passed his money over to you, having decided to take your side. 

“Nah, the Vice Cap’n is good with a sword, he’s comfortable with a sword, I bet he wouldn’t even know how to hold a gun.” Iharu prattled loudly before handing his wad of bills to you. 

Then Reno chimed in sweetly, “Well Vice Captain Hoshina, I believe in you,” and he handed his money to Soshiro. 

“Thanks, Ichikawa. ‘Preciate that.”

“Sorry, Hoshina. Logically, it’s smarter to stand with the Captain.” Aoi apologized to him before presenting you with his money as well. 

Before you knew it, you’d accumulated a fat stack of cash, with most bets placed against Soshiro. Then it was go time. Everyone in the crowd held their breaths as they watched him get into position, hoisting his gun up to fire. 

You gave Soshiro a knowing look and he nodded.

Then he blew everyone’s fucking minds.

He hit every single target with precision and speed. Even the bonus target. 

When he collected his due payment from all the stunned officers, he simply shrugged and said, “Lucky shot, I guess.”

Then he picked out his prize from the booth owner, the icing on the cake for his spectacular debut, and snuck off to meet you in your agreed upon location. 

“Teddy bear, love? To make up for the murdered duck.” He handed you his prize.

You laughed as you took the stuffed animal from him. It was half your size. “What’d you do, pick the biggest one he had?”

He smirked. “Of course. Only the best for you, my dear.”

“You were amazing out there.” You kissed him deeply. 

He smiled against your lips. 

When you finally pulled away, he held up the thick wad of cash.  “What do you say I take you on the most lavish date you’ve ever been on?”

“I’d say that sounds like a dream.”

“Well then,” He held out his hand to you, “Let’s make some dreams come true.”

[sinful-mind-joyful-thoughts]

*clears throat.* Good evening, and thank you for your time. So the idea is along the lines of this. In this world, nothing is truly what it seems. Marcus finds himself in The Library of Alexandria (My HC is Marcus also likes to read to relax.) where our reader is a scholar from Greece. The two of them start to talk philosophy (Or anything you'd like to come up with.) and whatnot. Marcus is turned on by this, he values intelligence. They have sex and well, reader isn't who we think! Reader is actually the Greek Goddess, Chaos; and basically says something along the lines of "I think I'm going to stick around for a while, so in exchange for us doing this again; and worshiping me. I will do whatever I can to allow you to win your battles, even if it seems all is lost." (My apologies if this makes no sense!)

My God

⤷ Credits: Pinterest

Marcus Acacius x Greek Godess!F!reader | WC : 4.1k | Proof read : YES | Navigation | Notifications | asks : OPEN |

Summary: see ask above

Warnings: Exhibitionism , oral F, p in v, breeding kink, worshiping, marking (scratching), kinda sub Marcus

A/n: I'm very very proud of this fic i really like it

Life in Rome was never easy—a place where survival often meant aligning with power, brute force, or sheer luck. But Marcus was different. He never let the harsh realities of Roman life define him. Instead, he focused on the pursuits of the mind—education, knowledge, and the arts held a deeper allure for him than the roar of the Colosseum or the blood-soaked sands of the battlefield. It was this quality, among others, that drew you to him. You admired his intellect more than any gladiator's victory or war hero's tale.

You found yourself drawn to Marcus not just because of his intelligence, but because of the way he made you feel—respected, seen, and, dare you think it, understood. There was a quiet strength in him, a confidence that didn’t need to assert itself through violence or intimidation. He was different from the others, and you couldn’t help but feel that he saw something different in you too.

That evening in the Library of Alexandria, the air was thick with the scent of parchment and the faint aroma of the sea beyond the walls. The library was a sanctuary, a place where the chaos of the outside world faded away, leaving only the soft rustle of scrolls and the whispered voices of scholars deep in thought. You had been there for hours, lost in a text that demanded every ounce of your focus. But as the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting golden light through the high windows, you noticed something peculiar.

One by one, the other patrons began to leave, their departure almost synchronized, as if they were being summoned elsewhere. A soft murmur of voices drifted away, and soon, the library was nearly empty, save for you and a few lingering souls. You couldn’t help but whisper to yourself, “Aphrodite must have sent Cupid, because this feels like a sign.” The idea that the goddess of love might have a hand in this sudden solitude made your heart flutter.

And then, as if on cue, Marcus entered the room.

He moved with the same quiet grace that you had come to associate with him, his presence immediately commanding the space without a word. His eyes scanned the room briefly before settling on you, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. You could feel your pulse quicken as he approached, his footsteps barely audible on the marble floor.

“Good evening,” he greeted you, his voice soft but warm, like a familiar melody.

“Good evening, Marcus,” you replied, a small smile playing on your lips as you tried to keep your voice steady despite the nervous excitement thrumming through you.

He settled into a seat across from you, a scroll in hand, but it was clear his attention was more on you than the text. “I’ve been thinking about our last conversation,” he began, his tone casual but thoughtful. “About how philosophy shapes our understanding of the world. It’s fascinating, don’t you think?”

You nodded, eager to engage with him on a topic that was close to both of your hearts. “It is. The way ideas can influence how we see everything around us—it’s like unlocking a new way of thinking. I’ve always loved how philosophy challenges the status quo.”

Marcus’s smile deepened a glint of admiration in his eyes. “That’s what I appreciate about you,” he said, his voice lowering slightly. “You don’t just accept things as they are. You question them, you seek to understand them. It’s refreshing, especially in a world that so often values power over thought.”

You felt your cheeks warm under his gaze, the sincerity of his words making your heart skip a beat. “I’ve learned a lot from you, Marcus. You’ve opened my eyes to so many new ideas, and I’m grateful for that.”

He tilted his head, his expression softening. “And you’ve done the same for me. It’s rare to find someone who not only values knowledge but also understands its importance in shaping the world. You have a gift, and it’s something that should be nurtured.”

His words made your heart swell, a mix of pride and something deeper stirring within you. The way he spoke to you, with such respect and admiration—it was something you hadn’t experienced before. “You’ve always treated me with kindness, Marcus. More than anyone else,” you confessed, your voice soft but sincere.

“I’ve only ever treated you as you deserve,” Marcus replied, his tone firm but gentle. “You’re intelligent, capable, and deserving of every opportunity that any man would have. It’s a shame society doesn’t always see it that way, but that doesn’t mean we can’t change things, one step at a time.”

His words resonated with you, a reminder of why you had been drawn to him in the first place. He wasn’t just a man of knowledge—he was a man of principle, someone who believed in equality and justice. It was a rare quality in a world dominated by power and greed. “I wish more people thought like you,” you murmured, almost to yourself.

“Perhaps one day they will,” Marcus said, his voice filled with quiet determination. “But until then, we’ll keep learning, keep questioning, and maybe, just maybe, we can inspire others to do the same.”

You smiled, a warmth spreading through you at his words. “There’s a book I’ve been meaning to read,” you said, your voice a little lighter now, as if the conversation had shifted to something more personal. “It’s the sequel to the one I suggested to you last time we spoke. I’ve been eager to see how the ideas develop, how the story progresses.”

Marcus’s eyes lit up with interest. “Ah, yes, I remember. The way you described it made me curious. I’ve been looking forward to seeing where the author takes the arguments in the sequel.”

You nodded, excited to share this with him. “It’s on the top shelf,” you said, gesturing toward the tall bookcase that loomed over you. “I’ve been meaning to grab it, but…”

Marcus didn’t wait for you to finish. He was already moving toward the shelf, his long stride carrying him effortlessly across the room. “Allow me,” he said with a soft smile, reaching up to retrieve the book. As he stretched, his body leaned closer to yours, his presence warm and comforting.

Your breath caught as he handed the book to you, your fingers brushing his as you took it. The air between you felt charged as if something more than just a book exchange was happening. Marcus didn’t move away, didn’t break the connection. Instead, he leaned in closer, his gaze softening as he looked at you.

You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, the realization of how close you were, of how much you wanted this moment, making your thoughts spin. You had admired Marcus for so long, not just for his intelligence but for his kindness, his respect, the way he made you feel seen. There had been so many moments, so many little things that had led to this—his smile when he caught you lost in thought, the way he listened to you as if every word you said mattered, the quiet conversations you shared in the library when no one else was around.

And now, here you were, standing so close that you could feel the warmth of his breath on your skin, his presence enveloping you like a gentle embrace. Your mind raced with memories, with all the times you had felt this pull toward him, this undeniable connection that you had tried to ignore but could no longer deny.

As Marcus leaned in, his movements slow and deliberate, you knew this was the moment you had been waiting for, the moment you had imagined so many times but had never dared to hope would actually happen. His lips hovered just a breath away from yours, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation.

But there was none. You wanted this, wanted him, more than you had ever wanted anything. And as his lips finally met yours in a soft, tender kiss, you felt a wave of emotion wash over you—a mix of relief, joy, and something deeper, something that made your heart feel full and complete in a way you had never known before.

I owe Aphrodite big time, you thought, a fleeting smile curving your lips against his. Little did Marcus know, the goddess of love wasn’t the only divine force at play. Chaos, the very essence of unpredictability and passion, lurked beneath your skin, a secret you hadn’t even discovered yet. But that would come later—right now, all that mattered was the way Marcus was kissing you, as if he had been waiting for this moment just as long as you had.

The kiss deepened, turning feverish as months of unspoken tension finally spilled over. You clawed at each other’s clothing with an urgency that surprised you, your fingers trembling as you fumbled with the ties of his tunic. His hands were no gentler, grasping at the fabric of your dress, tugging it down your shoulders as his mouth moved hungrily over yours. The world around you seemed to blur, the lines between thought and sensation fading until there was nothing left but the press of his body against yours, the heat of his touch.

Marcus’s hands found your waist, and with a low growl of need, he pushed you back against the nearest bookshelf. The impact sent a few books toppling to the floor, their thuds barely registering in the haze of your shared desire. Neither of you cared about the mess, too consumed by the fire that had ignited between you. His lips moved to your neck, leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses that made you gasp, your back arching instinctively into him.

You tangled your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer as he continued his assault on your senses. The scent of old parchment and sea air mingled with the heady musk of passion, creating a dizzying blend that only heightened the intensity of the moment. Your breaths came in short, ragged bursts, the sound filling the otherwise silent library.

Marcus’s hands roamed your body with a desperation that matched your own, his fingers brushing over every curve, every inch of skin he could reach. His touch sent sparks of electricity dancing along your nerves, each caress stoking the fire that burned between you. And when he finally claimed your lips again, the kiss was no longer tender but fierce, demanding, as if he needed you as much as you needed him.

You could give a fuck about who might see you, or what they might think. The world beyond these walls ceased to exist the moment you started unraveling under Marcus's touch. His tunic was already halfway off, hanging loosely around his shoulders, but you were far beyond caring. Your own dress was falling away, your breasts now on full display for him, and the hunger in his eyes made you feel like the most powerful woman alive.

Marcus’s lips traveled down your collarbone, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. He continued his descent, kissing down to your stomach, his breath warm and teasing against your skin. His hands were already at your waist, gathering the fabric of your dress into a bundle. He paused only to give you a slick grin before ducking his head beneath the fabric. The anticipation alone was enough to make your knees weak.

Then you felt it—the hot, intoxicating breath of his mouth, so close to where you needed him most. Your breath hitched as his lips found your clit with a precision that made you moan in surprise. You had to commend him for finding it so easily, his tongue darting out to taste you. His hands moved slowly, deliberately up your thighs, as if savoring every inch of you.

With a sudden motion, Marcus shifted your hips, lifting your legs to rest them over his broad, bare shoulders. The position left you completely exposed to him, vulnerable and aching for more. His mouth worked against your sensitive clit, licking and sucking with a skill that had you gripping the shelf behind you for support. The pleasure was overwhelming, making you a moaning mess as more books tumbled from the shelves, though neither of you cared.

His tongue was relentless, teasing you mercilessly. He started by focusing on your clit, making you shiver with each flick, but soon his motions became wider, exploring more of you. Before long, he was licking up and down the entirety of your pussy, his movements growing bolder, more insistent. You could feel him getting closer to where you needed him, his tongue dipping into you, desperate to go deeper.

The fever of his actions made you grind against his face, your orgasm building fast and hard. "Good gods above, Marcus," you gasped, your voice trembling with the intensity of your pleasure. He hadn't taken a breath, his mouth still worshiping your pussy as if he could die right there and be satisfied. Your legs began to shake uncontrollably, but Marcus kept his hands on your knees, holding you open as he moved faster, his tongue diving in and out of you with a frenzy that had you seeing stars.

When your orgasm hit, it was like a wave crashing over you. You could feel it building, the tension coiling tighter and tighter until it snapped, sending you over the edge. You rode his face, every muscle in your body tightening as the pleasure ripped through you. Marcus didn’t let up, his mouth sloppily lapping up your juices as your body trembled, struggling to stay quiet as your arousal overwhelmed you. He knew it, and the wicked gleam in his eyes told you he wasn’t making it any easier.

Finally, he emerged from beneath the fabric of your dress, pulling it down roughly, leaving you naked before him. His breath was ragged, his chest heaving as he caught his breath, and you could see the glistening of your juices on his lips, chin, and cheeks. The sight of him, his rugged face wet with your arousal, only made you want him more. Without a word, you grabbed the fabric still hanging around his waist and yanked him in for a kiss, loving the taste of yourself on his tongue.

Your hands roamed his body, guiding him backward until you found a random chair in the room. With a firm push, you made him sit, his muscles tensing under your touch. At first, he leaned back, expecting you to straddle him, but you had other plans. Instead, you knelt before him, your hands moving to lift the fabric at his waist before pulling it down. He lifted his hips to help you, but when his hand reached for your breast, you pulled away, fixing him with a smirk.

“Let’s get this straight…” you murmured, straddling his lap but keeping your hips closer to his knees than to his cock. You began to palm him, feeling the heat and hardness of him beneath your fingers. He let out a low groan, his eyes darkening with lust. “You may be the one with the dick…” you leaned down, spitting on his cock, watching it glisten in the low light. “But I’m the one in power.”

You didn’t give him time to respond, your hand guiding his cock to the wetness between your legs. You ran the tip of his cock down your pussy lips, teasing him, teasing yourself, before slowly lowering yourself onto him. The stretch was glorious, filling you up in a way that made your breath catch. “This dick…” you moaned as you took him deeper, your body trembling with the effort to take all of him. “Is for me… only me.”

You began to grind your hips, feeling him press deeper inside you with each movement. His hands were on you again, roaming your body, before one found your breast. He brought his mouth to your nipple, sucking it softly, and you arched your back, pressing yourself against him. The pleasure was intense, his mouth hot and wet against your sensitive skin, his other hand steadying you as you rode him.

“My true god,” Marcus murmured against your skin, his voice thick with reverence. The words sent a thrill through you, knowing how true they were, even if he didn’t. You were Chaos, the embodiment of primal power, and he worshiped you without even knowing it.

You pushed his chest back, starting to build momentum, bouncing onto him with increasing speed. You could feel his eyes on you, watching your breasts, your body moving in time with his. His hands gripped your hips, guiding you, before they drifted higher, tracing the curve of your waist, the swell of your breasts. “So beautiful,” he whispered, more to himself than to you, his voice full of awe.

Your body was beginning to tire, the exertion of riding him making your muscles burn, but you didn’t care. “Marcus…” you moaned, catching his full attention. “Fuck into me.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. Repositioning himself, he began to thrust up into you, meeting your hips as they bounced. The movement was rough, desperate, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room, mingling with your moans and his grunts. You clawed at his chest, your nails leaving red marks as you leaned over him, your eyes locked with his.

You could tell he was holding something back, the tension in his body, the way his jaw clenched. “Are you going to cum?” you asked, your voice breathy and full of need. He nodded, his breath coming in ragged pants.

“Cum…” you lifted your body slightly, before slamming down onto him again. “Cum with me, Marcus.” You bounced faster, matching his pace, feeling him hit that perfect spot deep inside you with every thrust. “Marcus, I need you to make me cum.”

His hands tightened on your hips, holding you steady as he pounded into you, his thrusts becoming more erratic, more desperate. You could feel your walls tightening around him, your orgasm building again, higher and higher. His cock was hitting all the right places, sending shocks of pleasure through you, until you were on the edge, ready to fall.

With a cry, you brought your hand to your clit, rubbing it in fast, tight circles as you rode out your orgasm. The pleasure was almost too much, your body convulsing, trembling as you came, the feeling overwhelming. You heard Marcus groan deeply, his own orgasm hitting him as your walls clenched around his cock. You felt the warmth of his cum flood into you, filling you to the brim, the sensation making you shudder with aftershocks of pleasure.

He kept thrusting, riding out his orgasm with you, until finally, he stilled, his hands loosening on your hips. You were both panting, your bodies slick with sweat and trembling from the intensity of what you had just shared. Without thinking, you leaned forward, pressing your forehead against his, breathing in his scent, grounding yourself in the warmth of his body.

Marcus’s arms wrapped around you, pulling you close as if afraid you might disappear. His breath was still heavy, his chest rising and falling against yours as you both came down from the intense high of your shared pleasure. For a moment, you allowed yourself to simply exist in that space, feeling his warmth, his steady heartbeat against your own. But the weight of your true identity, the secret you had been holding back, pressed at the edges of your mind, refusing to be ignored.

You shifted slightly in his embrace, tilting your head to look up at him. His eyes were half-lidded, softened by the afterglow, and when he caught your gaze, a small, contented smile curved his lips. He looked at you like a man who had found something precious, something worth holding on to. The thought made your heart ache with a strange mixture of guilt and affection.

“If you continue to worship me like this, Marcus,” you whispered, your voice still tinged with the breathlessness of your climax, “you will have many great wins in the future.”

He chuckled softly, a light laugh that vibrated through his chest. “Worship you?” he teased, his tone playful as he leaned in to press a gentle kiss to your temple. “I think you have that the other way around. I’m the one who’s been utterly undone by you.”

You smiled at his words, but there was something deeper in your eyes, something ancient and powerful that flickered beneath the surface. “Oh, Marcus,” you murmured, brushing a hand through his hair, “you don’t even know the half of it.”

His brow furrowed slightly, a flicker of confusion crossing his features. “What do you mean?” he asked, his tone turning more serious as he searched your eyes for answers.

You pulled back a little, just enough to look at him fully. The room seemed to grow still around you, the air thick with an unspoken tension. For a moment, you considered holding back, keeping your secret buried for a little longer. But then you remembered who you were, what you were, and the time for hiding was over.

“I’m not just a girl from Greece,” you began slowly, watching his expression carefully as the words left your lips. “I’m not just a student, studying philosophy and the stars.”

Marcus’s confusion deepened, his grip on you tightening slightly as if trying to anchor himself in this sudden shift in the atmosphere. “What are you saying?” he asked, his voice a whisper now, tinged with the first hints of unease.

You took a deep breath, feeling the power within you surge, the ancient energy of Chaos that had been dormant for so long. The room seemed to darken around you, shadows stretching and shifting as if responding to the force of your true nature. “I’m from Olympus, Marcus,” you said, your voice steady, resonating with a power that was impossible to ignore. “I am not just a mortal woman. I am Chaos, the primordial force that existed before all things. The void from which the universe was born.”

The color drained from Marcus’s face, his eyes widening in shock and disbelief. He pulled back, but not out of fear. His hands trembled slightly as they remained on your hips as if he couldn’t quite reconcile the woman he had just been inside with the god you claimed to be. “Chaos?” he repeated, the word almost foreign on his tongue. “You… you’re a goddess?”

You nodded slowly, the truth of your identity settling in the air between you. “I am,” you confirmed, your tone gentle, trying to ease him into this new reality. “I have walked this earth in many forms, but this—this is the form I chose to meet you, Marcus.”

He stared at you, his mind racing to catch up with the revelation. The weight of your words, of what they meant, seemed to press down on him, and for a moment, he looked lost. “But… why? Why me?” he finally managed to ask, his voice barely above a whisper.

You reached out, cupping his face in your hands, forcing him to meet your gaze. “Because you are more than just a man, Marcus. You have a strength in you, a light that draws even the gods. And in you, I saw something… someone worth revealing myself to.”

His breath caught, his eyes searching yours for any sign of deceit, but all he found was truth. “This is why you’re so different,” he murmured, more to himself than to you. “Why I’ve been so drawn to you…”

You nodded again, a soft smile playing on your lips. “Yes. And if you continue to worship me as you have, if you continue to show me the devotion you’ve shown tonight, I will see to it that you have many victories, Marcus. In battle, in life… and in love.”

He was silent for a long moment, absorbing your words, the enormity of what you were offering. Finally, he spoke, his voice filled with a reverence that hadn’t been there before. “I don’t know what to say… What can a mortal offer a goddess like you?”

You leaned in, pressing a kiss to his lips, tender and sweet, before pulling back to look him in the eyes. “Just be you, Marcus. Be the man I’ve come to admire. That’s all I ask.”

His arms tightened around you, pulling you close once more. “I don’t know what I did to deserve this,” he murmured against your hair, “but I’ll do everything I can to prove myself worthy of you.”

You smiled, the warmth of his embrace chasing away the coldness of your true nature, if only for a moment. “You already have,” you whispered, allowing yourself to sink into the comfort of his arms. For now, you were content to let him hold you, mortal and god, two beings intertwined in a world that suddenly seemed much smaller.

[bloodiedrogue]

EASY DAYS AHEAD

SUMMARY: Astarion's not used to feeling cared for. Luckily though, you're as caring as they come.

PAIRING: Astarion & Gender Neutral Reader

WORD COUNT: 1,925

WARNINGS: Astarion's POV, 18+ sexual content, oral sex (male receiving), body worship if you squint, CONSENT!

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hi, consent is incredibly sexy. That's all I gotta say. Also that I'm pretty sure I was possessed by something because I wrote this in literally an hour and a half???

MASTERLIST

-

Astarion doesn’t deserve the care that goes into loving him. With nothing more to offer than a broken mind wrapped in precious, tainted silk, it’s hard to wrap his head around the tenderness. Specifically the feeling of your skin, trailing patterns down his spine —painting fresh images over the scars that line his back as you praise him for his efforts. 

Your voice sounds wrong in his ears. Every word distorting. All the syllables jumbling up in ways that make him narrow his eyes, staring through the darkness of the tent at nothing in particular. 

“You okay?” you ask, and even now, weeks after your first night spent together, he has to muster up everything he’s got not to break down in front of you. 

“I’m fine, darling.” 

His lips always pull in that liar’s grin, ripping through his face like knives. Slicing the inside of his cheeks each time his fangs bite down on the wet flesh inside. 

He has to force himself to look at you. To stare at the exhausted smile that slowly shifts to a frown, showcasing your insight. How you know he’s lying before he can even elaborate on why he’s fine or how you shouldn’t worry about him —he’s a creature of the night after all. 

Pressing fully against him, he hears you click your tongue and shake your head as if scolding him. “What do you need?” 

Each time you pose that same question he feels like dying. Despite the fact his heart no longer works like yours —despite the act of breathing being nothing more than a habit he’s carried over from his deathbed— there’s a dread that coats his chest. Like oil, thick and slick, it completely drowns his organs. Suffocating his body while his mind and soul fight over what comes next. 

As the internal argument grows, his eyes always dart back and forth. One moment they’re locked onto your face, obsessively viewing each section and the next they’re anywhere but. In the forest, on the battlefield, back home tucked tightly inside the palm of his master’s hand —each night he travels everywhere, lingering in certain places while speeding through others, praying to all the Gods that never listened that he’ll make his way back to you. That just this once, instead of drifting off to sea, they’ll grant him the anchor he so desperately craves. The one that’s tethered to you and the solid ground beneath. 

“You still there, handsome?”

He is —sort of— depending on the moment, but instead of saying that he merely hums. Offering the bare minimum to the only person he’s ever met deserving of more. 

“Tired?”

“Incredibly.” 

You push your chest against his back and grip his shoulder, allowing your fingers to tighten around as you maneuver your lips to his cheek. “You should rest then,” you tell him afterward, but like always the words get pushed together. Morphing into something else entirely, causing him to narrow his eyes. 

“You’re one to talk, aren’t you?” he teases, watching you roll your eyes —feeling your nails tentatively dig into his flesh as a warning. 

“Shush. Don’t make me shove a sleeping potion down your throat.”

In response, he lets out a humorous huff. Then, his hands move to snake around your waist, pulling you on top of him. “Go ahead. I’m sure Gale would thoroughly enjoy such misuse of his wares.”

“My wares,” you correct, pressing an annoyed kiss to his chest, making sure to catch his skin between your teeth in the process as a warning. “I bought them from him fair and square.”  

Immediately, he grabs your chin and raises his brow. “Why the hells would you need a potion of sleep anyway? You already sleep like a corpse.”

You merely look away with a smile. All while rolling your eyes in that way that makes him feel like he’s young again. Freshly born into a world that hadn’t yet chewed and spat him out. One where the veins beneath his skin are full of warm blood, pumping through his system, fuelling the desire he knows he should have now that you’re lying against him, flesh against flesh. Beating heart against— 

Your lips press against his sternum and he swears they’re the most tender things he’s ever felt. Next to the way your fingers always seem to lace in his when you’re sitting by the campfire, they’re softer than any touch he’s ever experienced. Hungry yet restrained for his benefit, knowing it’s hard to feel like this. To experience the kindness of a pair of lips, worshipping a slab of skin so undeserving of such care. 

Each time your mouth makes contact, your eyes are always on him, asking for permission. Begging for consent. He’s never told you this but it’s the most selfless thing he’s ever experienced. Despite it’s obvious subtly, that look you give each time your mouth can’t help itself or your hands grow a bit too greedy, means more to him than life itself. More than power or revenge. More than freedom. Because that look requires worth. Value. An offering of submission he’s long since memorized. 

Each time it’s given to him, he has to compose himself. Otherwise, he might just shatter entirely —fall to the floor in a hundred tiny pieces not even you may be willing to put in the effort to fix.

Swallowing hard, he has to stare intently at your face, taking in the way you look up at him through your lashes. How you arch your brow just slightly upward, asking for forgiveness. Atoning for your sins in the form of restraint until he eventually nods, hearing your voice. 

You always ask out loud to make sure. An act that only further fuels his desire to feel you wrapped around him. To experience the warmth of your flesh tenderly pressing against the iciness of his. 

“Go ahead, darling,” he tells you, and for once, he means it. Truly. 

Instead of pretending like he wants this for the sake of a game, he accepts you in full. Watching you genuinely grin as you lean up to capture his lips, savouring the taste of his approval. Consuming the sound that absentmindedly passes through his lips as your hand lingers down, drifting past his chest and stomach until you’re pulling away to breathe. 

He can feel his mouth swell with need. The rest of his body following suit as you begin to descend, touching and kissing and biting —putting him through every sensation he’s gifted so many others. 

Leaning up to watch you work, he can see the excitement in your face each time he accidentally twitches beneath you. How the edges of your eyes crinkle with anticipation the moment you find yourself tucked between his legs, looming over him with heavy hands and breaths. 

“You’re beautiful,” you tell him then, and for once it means something. 

“You’re beautiful,” he repeats back, and for once it isn’t a lie. In fact, it’s the most honest he’s ever been, and secretly that scares him. So much so that he has to look down to see if you’re still there. 

Hoping that the sudden sincerity in his voice hasn’t scared you away, he can’t help but focus on the curve of your spine. How it starts low; your chest slightly leaning against one of his inner thighs.

Somehow despite the precarious position, you look perfect. Like a piece of art so carefully made, he can’t help but reach down and touch, revelling in the way you shudder beneath him. Sighing at the sudden desperation that erupts when you pull at the fabric against his waist. 

“Greedy, are we?” he jokes. 

Shooting him an embarrassed look, your hands continue to work his underwear down his legs —ignoring the way they catch at his knees and ankles. “I just really want to make you feel good.” 

The way you speak sends him over the precipice of ruin. Even before you discard the cloth and wrap your hand around the head of his cock, he’s already done for. Lost to the feeling of your digits. Fully enraptured by the heat of your breath as you lean forward and take him between your lips, coating him in spit. He has to close his eyes despite wanting nothing more than to look at you. Feeling the way your cheeks hollow out against him, he can already imagine the expressions of your efforts. All the time and care put in as you stroke him gently, maintaining the slowest pace he’s sure he’s ever experienced. 

It drives him mad with need. Bucking upwards each time your tongue drags across the tip, he instantly feels you push back. With a firm hand, you grip his hip and dig the pads into his flesh as yet another warning, telling him to behave. To just sit back and savour the pleasures he’s deserved rather than rushing through. 

He isn’t used to enjoying this. More often than not feeling like nothing more than a body designated for others enjoyment, he isn’t entirely sure how to properly relish your efforts. Or at least, in a way that doesn’t feel forced. Because he could do what you’re supposed to in this situation: touch you, moan for you, utter sweet nothings in your ear to further spur you on. He could do one of them or all of them, perhaps a mixture of two and still, it wouldn’t be enough to fully showcase the weight that fills his chest each time your mouth bobs up and down. How, as you begin to push him further and further into your mouth until he’s grazing the back of your throat, everything you do feels like the greatest gift he’s ever received. How maddening it is to feel loved like this even when he’s at his most unloveable.

Because that’s what you do to him. With the simplest of touches, you make him feel like him again. Like his mind hasn’t been shattered by the repeated slams of a sinner’s hand. As if his skin, etched by the knife of that same bastard, isn’t scarred. That instead it’s merely just skin. A grouping of muscle and tissue wrapping around his bones —a simple casing of flesh meant to be licked and sucked and pumped for all it’s worth until he’s gasping for air and uncontrollably shaking. 

And sometimes he feels like he’s earned it. During the easy days when he’s able to forget about his past and instead focus on the beauty that’s pressed against his leg, continuing to suck the come from his orgasm, it’s as if he’s on top of the world. Standing on a pillar of his past self’s hopes and dreams, he can easily look down at you with pride. Reaching down to touch your temple, he can feel the haze of your affections in full. The tremors of your possessive lips slowly slipping off, granting him a slick-coated smile that makes him almost faint. 

During those days he can smile back and pull you up into his chest, ignoring the ache between his thighs in your absence. Opting to hold you close. 

“Was that okay?” he hears you ask, and despite the question seeming almost juvenile, all he does is kiss your face. Starting at your forehead before moving to your nose and cheeks —eventually ending on your lips, he answers the question the only way he can. By showing you that, thanks to the care you foolishly offer, the days really are getting easier.

-

@poohxlove @gaiasmight @sassy-stupid @novarex @v-gremlin @sapphiccloud @lipstickghoulie @kuroitsukyo @jjfchk @idiotsatan @bluestuesday @bloopthebat @art-by-greenie @heneralmoon @sukunababe @dreamingaboutyousworld @ranfithegood @haniscrying @liadamerondjarin @the-lake-is-calling @marina-and-the-memes @rookieoftheyear @zraloci-cpr @kaetmo @snickerdoodle-daydream @wowowwild @d1anna @raswiet @conniesbbymama @venus-wrts @demonicthorns @kihten @sanscas @spammypasta @leighsartworks216 @rose-gold-blue @p1ssmagg0t @hellish-writes @ghostinvenus @otayz @sexysquatch @sleepyeclair @colorful-anxieties @alina-exe @lillifer @girlwiththepapatattoo @acelin-ginsberg @pinkuranium @catrad0rable @scarletrosesposts @qwnamidala @itsrosebabe @bunnyperi @queenofcarrotflowers-s @tatumadams20 @spkyxszn @chlort @f3v3rs @awkwardwookie @joy-the-reader @warm-milk-with-honey-blog @vertigocrime @iyis @wildpiper @pebblethestone @tillywasneverhere @bex-03 @revemiya @staticspouse @itzagothamcitysiren

(tags continued in comments)

[writtenbyjeanofarc]

𝐎𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐔𝐏𝐎𝐍 𝐀 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌. — !# :

𝖌𝖊𝖓𝖗𝖊: Dark fantasy, yandere, smut.

𝖕𝖆𝖎𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌: Griffith X You (fem! reader)

𝖘𝖞𝖓𝖔𝖕𝖘𝖎𝖘: You and Griffith were the best of friends since childhood trying to get by in the kingdom of Midland. After a lack of communication for years due to a fight that cost you two your friendship, you and Griffith are invited to the same ball, where you two lock eyes together. Such a scenario is harmless, right? What could possibly go wrong?

𝖈𝖜: dubcon, mild sexual tension, implied stalking.

𝕬𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗’𝖘 𝕹𝖔𝖙𝖊: I must admit this was rushed. However, I have no regrets writing this.

“Griffith…. I can’t do this. I can’t afford our friendship to transcend into something more. My parents don’t approve of our…relationship. It’s best if we just stop meeting each other, okay?”

Chandeliers filled the ceiling of the ballroom, illuminating bright enough to light up the whole venue. The windows were decorated with crimson red curtains and white roses, giving off that elegant feel one could ever ask for when stepping into the palace. The doors were made of gold, stainless steel, and intricate patterns that boasted the wealth Midland’s kingdom had over the nations.

This feeling was a dream come true, you thought, as you danced with your partner of the night. You weren’t beyond friends, but it was nice having someone to tag along when dancing to the rhythm of classical music that echoed through the halls.

You were beautifully adorned with a gown as black as ebony and a flower crown that gave emphasis to your crowning glory. There is indeed beauty in the smallest of things the moment you step foot into the ball, giving you a glimpse of what it feels to be in possession of the luxury you usually never had. Is this what it was like being a part of the elite and the royal family in Midland? Perhaps.

You swore to yourself that there was nothing that could get in the way of your amazing time at the ball. You had a handsome partner to dance with, appetizing food and drink you could turn to in moments of hunger and thirst, and your friends to accompany you as the time passed. Your parents trusted your friends enough to protect and be by your side in case things don’t turn out rough ….so far as to let you be invited with your friends to sleep at the guest rooms of the palace.

You were a close friend of Princess Charlotte, which granted you some privilege at least. She handed out invitations to you and your friends to join the feast as it was her birthday being the main focus of the celebration. But what bothered you is her friendship with someone you refused to speak of—a man with long, wavy, and flowing white hair and a pair of icy blue eyes. A man whose dream was to build his own kingdom and have people work for his rule. A man who once claimed you as someone he wanted to keep for as long as time stretches itself into the void. A man who was once your childhood friend, but was somehow separated from you because of your family disapproving of the relationship.

It didn’t take even a second. The moment you looked back, he was amongst the crowd, right behind you and your partner. Seeing him dancing with another woman felt almost strange to you, as he wasn’t one to mingle with other girls other than just you. Anyhow, you chose to move on. Your parents always had a disdain for him, claiming he was a dangerous, selfish young man who took pleasure in taking lives within the battlefield. They say it wasn’t a very smart decision to be friends with him, and the fact that he confessed his feelings for you enraged your family even further.

You dared not revisit the past, better yet, you’d rather not reminisce about your friendship with him. He was not good for you, end of story.

“Griffith, I’ve had it. Let’s just stop meeting here, okay? Our relationship serves ZERO benefits and I just can’t stand the sight of you anymore!”

“Then we’ll fix things one by one. What is it about me that you so despise, hm?”

“The bloodshed, the destruction, the violence you constantly put yourself in! Why would I, a diplomatic person advocating for peace within Midland, care enough to associate myself with a monster who takes innocent lives like you!”

“You know that I take lives for the money. It is a part of what I wanted, dear. A dream the both of us can indulge in, if you so desire. I cannot abandon my dream. I will never betray it. Causing bloodshed isn’t just a hobby, it’s a part of my DREAM. And I shall NOT abandon it over your will.”

“Griffith…..I-”

“I told you this a long time ago but you recall that I said it once, and I would say it over and over again. You belong to me. Not even your family would break the bond we two once shared, and not even their disapproval of our relationship would stop the lengths I’d go just to have you in my grasp.”

Those were the last words that came into mind the moment your eyes darted to the man you so despised. He had a charming exterior, yes, but his ambitions were something you didn’t want yourself to be associated with. After cutting ties with him for good, you saw him once again in this ball. What a shame. You tried keeping your eyes off him by looking away, but things were too late as his stare met yours. Griffith, the man himself, knew not to abandon his partner, but this time he felt the urge to do so.

He always recognized you, from your well-donned makeup to your stunning black gown and flower crown.

Griffith was left with no doubt that he was looking at his one and only childhood friend who abandoned him. His gaze wasn’t that of an innocent look, his icy blue eyes staring at you in anger from head to toe. His eyes undressed and penetrated into your very being, it almost gave you goosebumps. Your eyes darted elsewhere as you looked back at your partner.

“Is there something wrong?” your partner asked.

“No, nothing of the sort.” you responded. “It’s just that….I feel as though I am being watched.”

“That’s definitely not right, do you want to leave the ballroom this early? I’ll inform the guards of your willful departure.”

“No, no…I-I can handle it.” you stuttered. “Just leave me be. I won’t let someone ruin my stay at this wondrous celebration.”

“Hey there!” Princess Charlotte greeted you from afar. “Are you enjoying the ball so far?”

“Ah! Yes, yes I am. However….”

“Oh, what seems to be the matter? You can tell me anything that bothers you!”

“I feel as if someone is watching me….” you said, your voice slightly shaky. “It must be him….”

“You mean…Griffith?” Princess Charlotte asked. “I don’t know much about you two, but I do hear he’s up to something…..”

“What is that ‘something’ you speak of, Princess?” you asked.

“He’s up to sleeping with someone for the night. Who knows who it is, he’s always….sleeping around, that is…” Princess Charlotte laughed. “Are you alright?”

“Well, for some weird reason, I’m not surprised. Griffith has never been the type to stick around with one anyway. He’s better off without me.” you scoffed.

“Awwww….[Name], don’t say that! I’m sure this ball would pave an opportunity for you two to reconcile! And, you know….have the two of you become friends again!” Princess Charlotte replied. “So cheer up! Come on now, would you like a drink?”

“Sure!” you agreed.

After a few drinks, you were dazed and confused with what surrounded you in the ballroom. Your partner and friends were half drunk, and you couldn’t deny how you felt tipsy after seven shots of sweet champagne.

“[Name]!! Are you alright?” Princess Charlotte asked, concerningly.

“I’m alright, Princess. Thank you for asking. I…just had…a few drinks, perhaps…? Can I….go to my bedroom now, please?” you stammered, slightly dizzy and lightheaded from the alcohol you consumed for the night.

“Oh, sure thing! Guards! Kindly escort my dear friend to the guest rooms, please!” Princess Charlotte called out.

Princess Charlotte hosting a sleepover for some guests was something you didn’t expect off your bucket list. When you were invited to her birthday celebration, you were more than excited to spend the night with your friends and the Princess….what you did NOT expect was Griffith being invited as well.

You were escorted to the top floor of the palace. All walls in each guest room were soundproof to avoid unwanted noises from interrupting other guests who were fast asleep. You, on the other hand, had to leave the party early due to your slight drunkenness. While carrying you to bed, your belongings were also brought back to the room beside the bedpost. The guards left you on your own, leaving the door slightly open in case you needed assistance from the servants of the palace.

Hours passed, and you fell fast asleep after feeling quite tipsy at Princess Charlotte’s ballroom party. Things weren’t occurring out of the ordinary, up until the door creaked open. Things weren’t right. Someone entered the room.

You were startled by the door opening, only for it to be closed once again, the lock of the door being heard aloud. It was quite pitch black in the night, the only source of light being the lightning that struck every once in a while. You had no clue of who entered the room, but you were suddenly filled with fear once you came back to your senses. The intrusion was unexpected, and you made a guess on who entered your room in such an ungodly hour. You were right.

It was Griffith.

You were intimidated by the silhouette that appeared before you, but that didn’t give you a reason to cower in fear. In fact, this gave you an opportunity to call for the guards despite being slightly drunk.

“Are you not going to play dumb with me this time, [Name]?” he asked, his anger being quite apparent with his words.

You saw this coming. You recognized that voice—it was that of a commander’s, like he’s always been. Chills ran down through your spine, not because you were afraid of him, but because you were frightened of what was about to happen next.

You felt a sense of urgency it almost hurts to not speak up.

“Griffith? What do you think you’re doing here?! Get out before I call the guards!”

“Do you really want to leave our relationship this badly? Hm?” Griffith asked. “Here I am, asking for one chance to fix the scars of our past, and after all we’ve been through, this is how you repay me?”

“Our relationship was never beyond friendship, Griffith. If you think I’d come back to you for the sake of partaking in your sick, twisted idea of a dream…you are gravely mistaken.”

“You aren’t useful to me just for the sake of my dream. I want you, [Name]. I’ve been watching you all along since we parted ways right in that village. And this time is where I arrive to claim what’s rightfully mine.” Griffith announced, taking five steps closer to your bed as you stared at the door planning your escape route. In an attempt to put both hands on your shoulders, you pushed him away.

“I was never yours.” you replied, bravely. “I wasn’t yours and I’ll never be yours. Please cut me some slack and leave at once, or I’ll have to call the guards on you.”

“The walls are soundproof and the doors are locked. Looks like there’s no room left for you to hide, hm? Just surrender your freedom to me. By surrendering to me, you’ll find peace once we establish our own kingdom.”

“Ever since you found the Band of The Hawk, I’ve already been looking for ways to avoid your company. You just aren’t the one for me, Griffith. I’m better off not knowing you’d engage in such savage battles, having people die and kick the bucket for the sake of achieving your dream.”

“If I can’t have your freedom, then I have no other choice but to force it away from you. I want you in my arms. And I will do anything to make you a part of my dream.”

“No.” you stood up for yourself.

“Are you resisting me….this badly, [Name]?” Griffith asked, ready to pounce onto you. “No. You’re not resisting. You’re not leaving. I won’t allow it.”

“I AM leaving.” In an attempt to stand up and reach for the door outside the guest room, Griffith grabbed you by the wrist with a push strong enough to knock you out towards the queen-sized bed. While you ended up sitting, he took a huge step forward, leaning lower to match your eye level, and forcefully stripped you off by unraveling the straps of your sleeveless black gown. Before you could even utter a word and speak, he pressed his lips right onto yours.

You tried your very best not to kiss him back and show an ounce of enthusiasm in your actions. While his tongue explored you with utmost fervor, you tried to protest with your arms pushing him away and your feet kicking off every obstacle past you. Griffith’s touch, however, was far stronger than you could ever imagine. Your eyes were wide open in shock, trying to escape with all your might though you were already covered in his scent.

Since it was your first kiss, you made an attempt to kiss back in a disorderly fashion so as to piss Griffith off and let him walk away due to your inexperience. But this didn’t stop him. He kissed you in the most aggressive, yet practiced manner imaginable, so far as to render your tongue numb and submissive to his motions. His heavy breathing and humming didn’t help alleviate the situation you both were in either, and you refused to admit that your own childhood friend turned you on.

Griffith wasn’t being gentle around this time, you thought—he had to be straightforward with his motives when dealing with a fragile little thing like you.

You waited like hell for this moment to stop. When Griffith pulled away, you panted hard and set your eyes upon the door.

“Good…..still not taken. Your body is truly miraculous not to feel the touch of another man worthy of your gaze.” Griffith hummed in satisfaction. Forcing your chin to look up at him, he murmured. “Look at me.”

You made a slight effort to look into those eyes you once despised. Griffith’s stare pierced into your very being, you felt as if you were being undressed straight from the way he eyed you from head to toe.

“You will remember this moment from the time we part ways. I want you to dream of this.”

While you were sitting back, Griffith stood upright, taking off his top garment by garment. You thought to yourself that this was your chance—you stood up to walk briskly, only to be found out and pushed back to the bed once again.

“If you think you can escape just because I had other matters to attend to, you are gravely mistaken.” Griffith said.

“What….do you mean by that?” you asked.

“You should be grateful a friend has been willing to give you the attention you so desire. Had I not known you for years, you would have fallen into the arms of the wrong man.”

“Pffft. Talk about being a control freak.” you scoffed. “Let me go.”

“I don’t crave control. I just know what I want.” Griffith replied, undoing his pants to reveal his half-erect member before you.

“Now, suck.”

“Huh?”

“Don’t play innocent with me now, dear.”

Griffith grabbed a fistful of your hair without warning, urging you to wrap your mouth around his cock much to your surprise and unwillingness.

“You must comply unless you want to be tossed around to the peasants of the land. Do this. Do this for my dream.”

“Mmmmhhh! Mmmmhhhh!!!”

Rendered unable to speak, your head was forced to bob up and down Griffith’s length as he moaned in satisfaction to your compliance. You tried to retreat, but his grip just strengthened itself as he forced himself down your throat. You tried your best not to let out a sputtering gag, his thrusts growing more animalistic as he was nearing his release.

You groaned in dissatisfaction as Griffith face-fucked you into oblivion while standing up, his frame bare and naked while you were halfway stripped off your gown. If it were not for the darkness that engulfed the palace’s rooms, you would have mistaken the scene to be that of a brothel’s interior.

Without Griffith’s assistance, you wouldn’t know what to do considering this was your first time pleasuring a man. He continued forcefully pushing your head inward and outward his cock with his powerful hand, so as to set the pace he wanted. He grunted as you let out a cough that signified your struggle against his member down your throat. But he didn’t stop right there. He was close to cumming.

It didn’t take long before Griffith pulled away, holding back his cum as he edged himself to save his release for later. Before you realized things, Griffith unzipped your gown, pushing it down and tossing the clothing elsewhere. He lifted you by putting one hand over your ass, and the other hand on your upper back.

Positioning you to lie down on the bed gave him an opportunity to lunge forward onto you, his face landing on your hard nipple. While he suckled on it gently, his two fingers traced its way to your clit, rubbing the nub fast in such a way that pleasured you. The sounds of his moaning, breathing, and humming did nothing more than to instill a feeling of guilt within you. You felt pleasure, yes, but your guilt for doing something sinful with the man you so despised made you want to hurl.

Griffith pulled away, still fingering you. “Mmmm….all the more to love. You seem to be slowly complying with my ways, dear. I like it.”

“Mmmmmhhhh~”

“Go on.”

After egging you on for a few minutes, Griffith edged you even more with his fingers exiting your entrance, earning a groan of frustration from you. Your eyes were closed and focused on his fingers’ rhythm, only to be interrupted by Griffith’s sudden departure from your clit.

“Gri…..ffith….”

“Hm?”

“Do it again…..please….”

Griffith chuckled. “Anything for my princess. Hmmm….I think you are ready to take me whole. But first, I will be needing this lovely cunt of yours to quench my thirst.”

“Ooooooooohhhh~”

Without a single warning, he slid himself between your inner thighs, spreading them wider. Griffith made an effort to raise your legs to rest just above his shoulders, assuming that of a position where he was about to eat you out.

He wasn’t joking. Griffith started to plant small kisses onto your clit, circling his tongue around as if he was French kissing it. His tongue explored every region of your small pearl, suctioning your most sensitive spot gently as to not accidentally hurt you. He used his two fingers to rub off the slick, prepping it before he finally re-inserted them right into your hole. You retaliated.

“Agh! It burns, help!” you protested.

“Bear it.” Griffith said, slightly frowning. “This will be crucial to prepping you way before you get to have me inside. Now, relax yourself, and do as I tell you.”

Griffith stopped talking at that very moment, seriously eyeing your pussy with great passion and dominion over your body. His face landed in between your labia, licking a strip off of your soaked cunt as he thrusted his fingers in and out of your wet entrance. You yelped, both out of burning pain and pleasure.

Then came Griffith’s proper response, he bobbed his head in a specific direction, eating you out like a crazed animal in heat. He spared no untouched region within your virginal depths, lathering his long tongue around your cunt’s sensitive brown/pink surface. Similar to sucking, he moaned while eating you out for his own selfish pleasure, which aroused you to a point of whispering each syllable of his name repeatedly, with a couple of “yes” that left your mouth.

Noises of whimpers and sloppy gobbling sounds filled the guest room, and since everything was soundproof, yelling out for help considering the party was pointless considering the party long ended and everyone invited were already asleep in their designated guest rooms.

Griffith sped up his pace, unleashing his inner freak as he licked and kissed every spot of your pussy’s semi-interior like a hungry wolf.

“Griffith…..I’m gonna….”

This was a sign that urged Griffith to pull away.

“Hold it off.” Griffith commanded.

Your pussy throbbed HARDER as he stopped eating you out in the middle of your incoming orgasm. This moment was truly not the time, you thought, and what you waited for was Griffith’s final goal—to take you in missionary.

“I’m going to take you nice and deep, and you’re going to be a good girl for me, yes?” Griffith asked, letting out a smirk.

You shook your head with all your might, denying that Griffith has been the reason you were soaked up in all this mess. Tears ran down your face, smothering your mascara all over your cheeks even though such wouldn’t be noticed by Griffith, since it was dark.

“Don’t lie to me.” Griffith said, his face strictly maintaining eye contact with you. “Your body tells me otherwise.” He grabbed you by the thighs which closed voluntarily, spreading your legs wider to gain access to your entrance once more. Before even entering you, Griffith teases your clit by rubbing the tip of his cock over it, earning a moan from you in return.

Then comes the hard part. Griffith inserts the head into your entrance, stretching it in a way where it feels like burning to you. He ignores your pleas, focusing on getting his cock to be buried into you in no time.

“Too tight, God be damned.” Griffith groaned. “Shhh, I got you. Shhhhh. You don’t have to worry anymore. I know what I’m doing.”

Griffith thrusted forward, ensuring that his length buried itself deep into your cunt. This earned a yelp from you, as you were not expecting his sudden intrusion into your guts.

“Griffith…..Why….are you doing this? I-”

“It’s because I’m the only one who can make you feel like the most special woman who has ever walked Midland’s ground. Apart from the hordes of men that want you, it is only I who promised to build my own kingdom for us to rule over the weak. You shall be my Queen, my Countess—and by achieving this dream, I would be able to fulfill my utmost duties as a citizen of Midland…..to weed out the poor and unfortunate from the ends of this world.”

“Huh? If that’s it, then I don’t want to-”

“Shut it.” Griffith scoffed. “You’ll take whatever’s been given to you, my love. From our childhood to where we currently are, I’ve always wanted to make you a part of my dream. And no one, not even your family, can stop us from doing anything to achieve it.”

Griffith began to slowly rock his hips in and out of you, the sensation of pain merging with a feeling far more pleasurable. Sounds of fast clapping filled the room, making it smell of sex all over. While doing the do, Griffith placed both his hands on your breasts, fondling and playing around with them as they bounced according to his rough motions.

Griffith set a faster pace this time, his thrusts growing more animalistic and primal. Fucking you felt good to him despite the tightness that clenched around his cock.

“Such a sweet, sweet girl dolled up just for me.” Griffith praised, his heavy breathing intensifying the scene. “I wonder how many men managed to take you in one night and if they’d ever compare to my abilities at present.”

“Ah! It….doesn’t…matter….!!!” you screamed. “Nnnnggghhh…..Griffith!!”

“….Well? What is it, my dear? Cat got your tongue?” Griffith laughed as he bucked his hips mercilessly onto your tight pussy. “Mmmmmm….I can’t wait to have this body all to myself, for the sake of….my dream…..!!!!”

“Griffith…..I can’t…..I can’t handle…..!!!”

“After all, you’re in my control now. So it’s best to surrender before I try anything else.” Griffith whispered as he leaned closer to your ear.

Griffith ruthlessly pressed his body against yours and forcefully kissed you once again, his hips pounding into you like a rabid dog. You couldn’t see him directly in the dark nor speak, since he took advantage of your open mouth to slide his tongue in and lap at every fluid your mouth had to offer. You could feel him getting close, and as much as you would like to protest your way out of this mess, Griffith sucked your tongue in the most disgustingly experienced way possible.

Not inside….

You thought. “Mmmmmhhhhh, mmmmhhh!!!!”

Griffith deepened the kiss and didn’t look back. He didn’t care as to whether he kissed terribly at this point, for all he wanted was to take full ownership of you. His hips rocked faster and faster, his moment of release coming much closer.

Pulling away, Griffith made a conscious effort to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, whispering inaudible sweet nothings into it like a lover in despair.

“Mmmmmm……All the….more to love…..No one will ever come close to making you feel the same way……”

“Griffith….Not inside……I’m going to—ah!”

“Then do it, love. Grind your way against me. Claw at me like your life depends on it. Show me how much you appreciate my efforts.”

After nutting in you raw, you moaned aloud while Griffith grabbed your hips forward to make sure every last drop of cum unloaded into you. His pacing slowed down as well as the sounds of cheeks slapping against skin.

“You did well, my love. Now open your legs wide and show me who this pussy belongs to.”

You, of course, rode out your orgasm and came down from your high. After the feeling subsided, you closed your legs intentionally out of shame.

“I said….open wide.” Griffith frowned as he used all his might to spread your legs once more.

Despite the sex being over, things didn’t stop there. Griffith shoved three fingers up your pussy, twisting and turning them in order to elicit a moan from you despite achieving a full-on afterglow.

After a while, Griffith pulled away once more after testing the waters.

“You did well, my love.”

Those were the last words you heard before your orgasms led you to fall asleep soundly and peacefully.

[cozage]

Hi it's me again 👀 I absolutely love your writing of my request last time ❤❤❤❤❤ I'd like to send another request to you !!! You can continue writing my last request with other OP characters that you like or you can take this angst request: OP characters react to being forgotten (permanently or not) by their s/o after a brutal battle with the enemies?

A/N: You have once again cursed my ability to sleep. Oh, the ANGST!!! I LIVEEEEEE for it. I only did three characters,but I will DEFINITELY do this again with other characters, so if there was someone in particular you want to see, let me know friend (or anyone else!) :) 

Characters: GN! reader x Zoro, Luffy, Law

Cw: angst, blood, fighting, memory loss

Total word count: 2.5k

Forgotten

Zoro

You grip your weapon as he approaches, cautious of the stranger approaching you. You’re in a vulnerable position, sitting back against the rocks you just crashed into, and your ears are ringing.

“You okay?” he calls out, looking at you in a concerned manner. You pull your weapon out and take as much of a defensive stance as you can. 

“Stay back!” You scream at him. He looks strong, but with some luck you’ll be able to overpower him. 

Zoro pauses for a moment, full of confusion at your sudden hostility. At first he thinks you see something he’s missing, and he scans the vicinity for any kind of trap. He draws his weapon as he approaches you, and you stand to your feet to try and get a better attack point. 

“Hey, what are you-Sit down woman!” The moss-haired man screams at you, voice full of irritation.

You stand, leaning against the rocks for support. “What? So it’s easier for you to kill me? Like hell!”

“Why the hell would I kill you?!? Sit DOWN!” He’s closed the distance between you two, and you stab at him. You almost catch him off guard, but he dodges and easily disarms you. “Would you cut it out?! I know you don’t like help, but you need it right now!”

“Get off of me, you brute!” You’re kicking and punching him, but he just throws you over his shoulder and starts carrying you away, ignoring your punches, desperate to find Chopper. 

--

Chopper delivers the news. Memory loss. It’s not complete, you remember the Strawhats, the Sunny, a few crew members. But you’ve forgotten Zoro. Not just the two of you being together, but you’ve forgotten him completely. 

Zoro handles suffering silently. He locks himself in the crows nest, training all day. If he had been stronger, faster, this wouldn’t have happened. He blames himself a lot.

He tells everyone not to mention your all's history to you. He doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable, and he doesn’t expect you to feel that way about him again. He knew it was a miracle for you to fall in love with him once, he knows he won’t be so lucky a second time. 

It's painful for him to even look at you. Everyone has explained to you that he’s a member of the Sunny, so you trust him now. But everytime he sees you, all he can see is the hatred in your eyes on that day in the battlefield. Even when he gets past that, your eyes look at him with no emotion, vacant where they used to be full of love. 

You thought he hated you based on his behavior. When you asked Nami about it, she finally caved and told you about your past with Zoro. Everyone hates to see the two of you so distant, and Nami knows he won’t ever make the first move. 

You take him up some tangerine water one day while he's working out. You’re not sure why, but you do. 

His mouth drops open when he sees your delivery, and he runs to you and grabs you without thinking. “You remember?”

You don’t, and your face tells him. He lets go of you immediately, and his cheeks turn pink. He mutters an apology, turning away from you quickly. 

“I’ll remember one day,” you tell him quietly as you exit. “Or we’ll just have to make new memories.”

Luffy

The rescue mission to retrieve you had been a little too easy. Everyone was skeptical, but Luffy was over the moon with joy. The universe just wanted the two of you together. That's why you were here now, back with your family. You were unconscious, but Chopper reported that you should wake up soon.

Nami, Ussop, and Franky had wanted to strap you down as you woke up, just to make sure everyone remained safe, but Luffy refused. 

Your eyes fluttered open, and the first thing you saw was Monkey D. Luffy’s stupid grin. Your arm pulled back and sprang forward to punch him, but steel swords blocked your path before you could connect with the pirate’s face. 

Luffy pushed Zoro out of the way, not realizing what you had attempted to do. “Hey, Zoro! Don’t hurt her!” You took the opportunity to swing again, this time making contact with the captain’s face. 

Ussop and Franky were on you in an instant, vines and cords wrapping around your body to restrain you. “You scum pirate!” You shrieked, eyes wide with rage. “Let me go!”

Chopper sedated you, and ran tests to see what was happening. You were perfectly healthy, besides obvious memory loss/alteration. The crew was happy you were physically okay, at least.

Luffy sat by your side while you slept, combing your hair with his fingers. He whispered all the adventures you went on, hoping they would jog your memory unconsciously. But when you woke up, you tried to attack him again, and this time the crew had to put restraints on you to keep you tied to the bed. Luffy just stood back in horror, watching everyone else take action. He was frozen in disbelief, and he wanted to desperately wake up from this nightmare scenario. 

You had to be heavily sedated for several days before you finally stayed calm enough for a conversation. You would talk to anyone but Luffy, who stood in the corner of the room, just staring at the ground. He couldn’t bring himself to leave, but it hurt his heart so much to stay. It was one of the longest times the crew went without seeing him smile. 

The Strawhat crew deduced that the Marines had used some kind of devil fruit power to alter your memory. It seemed love was replaced with hate; the more you loved a person, the more you hated them now. All of your adventures were replaced with Marine ideology. You didn’t want to believe them, but there was a small portion of your mind that could see they were telling the truth. 

--

Luffy is a man of action, and he immediately wants to solve this problem. He’s already trying to get Nami to reroute to the Navy headquarters, ready to smash any person who gets in the way. 

The crew talks some sense into him, at least a little bit. They don’t know who did this to you or where that person is now. Time for smashing can come later, but they need information before they go on a blind rampage and someone else ends up getting hurt. 

After everyone leaves the room, he’s the only one that remains in the room. His face is darkened, full of pain. 

“You really don’t remember us?” He refuses to look at you while he asks the question. His hands are balled into fists, and his body is rigid and tight. “You don’t remember me?”

Oh I know you. I despise you. But you can't bring yourself to tell him what you’re thinking. He looks so broken over your reactions to him, and you know in your gut that he’s important to you. “Tell me the stories.”

And he does. He sits by your bedside and he tells you every story he can think of. He starts with the first time you two met, and he talks for hours. You’re not entirely sure you believe all his stories, but he doesn’t seem like the kind of man who would lie for no reason. 

He tells you stories of the Sunny, and the stories of your alls relationship. He talks about the first time he held your hand, when he kissed you, when he realized he loved you. Your cheeks burned whenever those stories came up, refusing to believe you could love a pirate like him. But he talked about it all without shame, he either didn’t notice your embarrassment or didn’t care.

Halfway through his stories, he realized you’re still restrained. He bends over to take them off, continuing his stories as he works. You’re baffled by this decision, especially since he’s in here alone with you, but you hold back your urge to attack him for now.

When he’s done, you rub your wrists and flex them. They’re sore from being strapped down so long. He sees you doing that and takes one of your wrists in his hands to massage it as if it’s second nature. 

You pull away from him, and you can see the hurt in his eyes as he mutters an apology and continues his story of your alls adventures. There’s significantly less pep in his voice after you reject him, but he still keeps the story going.

Dinner is called during his story, so he pauses and he invites you to come with him. His stomach growls as you all walk to dinner, and he realizes this has probably been the longest time he’s gone between meals. He was so caught up in talking to you, he forgot to eat. 

You go with him to dinner, and the strawhats all eye you, but nobody says anything. They talk over plans and ideas on how to get your memory back. You say nothing, you just listen to them try to plan something. 

After dinner he continues telling you their story, finishing at the point where they lost you to the navy. 

He keeps finding things to talk about though, his nervous energy spilling out into the room. He doesn’t want you to kick him out, and he doesn’t want to leave you to another Strawhat to watch over. He knows they’ll restrain you, and that’s the last thing he wants for you to go through.

He finally falls asleep in the chair, his head resting on your bed beside you. You know your orders are to execute the Strawhats, and this is the best moment you’ll ever get to take out the captain. But you can’t bring yourself to harm him, and you know deep down, there’s at least some truth in the stories he told you. 

Law

Law hated these moments. These moments when he was reminded just how fragile a human body was. How fragile you were. 

An explosion had caught you off guard and sent you flying, and you were just outside of his Room perimeter. He had tried to expand it to catch you, but he hadn’t made it in time. And now you were paying for it. He had rushed you back to the ship, and performed a full scan to find a major head injury and internal trauma. The internal trauma was easy enough to fix, but brains were such fickle things. 

He hoped -prayed even- that you would wake up. After three days, he sat by your side, waiting for your eyes to open. He longed for that sweet smile to grace your lips again, to see that look in your eyes that always made his stomach knot into a ball of butterflies. 

On the fourth day, your eyes flicked open, and he rushed over to meet you. He wanted to be the first thing you saw. 

Fear. That's what he saw in your eyes. “Y/N-ya,” he whispered, moving towards you. “You’re safe.”

You scrambled away from him, almost falling off the bed in the process. “Who are you? Where am I?”

“It’s okay.” Law’s voice was steady, but he stopped moving towards you. Amnesia was common amongst patients when they came out of a coma. He had prepared for this possibility, and he knew it was better to stick to the basic facts. “You’re on a ship, you’ve been traveling with us for a while. I’m Trafalgar Law, the ship’s doctor. You had an accident, but you’re safe now.”

“No, no.” You shake your head, confused. “I was just at home, in the North Blue. I don’t know you. I don’t know where I am.”

His heart constricts, and he tries not to let his disappointment and fear show. Over two years of your memory was just…gone? Slight amnesia before an accident was common, but long term like this was not a good sign.

--

First he asks you to recall what you remember. He lets you ask questions, and he fills you in on how you got to join the Heart Pirates. 

You were super opposed to pirates when you first met Law, and that personality has returned. He tries not to be too upset over it, but it feels like his heart is being ripped out of his chest. 

He doesn’t tell you about your relationship, and he forbids his crew to tell you about it as well. He knows how confusing everything is for you right now, and he knows it would be selfish to add a relationship to the mix. 

You request to depart the crew at the next island. You don’t want to be a pirate, and honestly you’re not even sure how you became one in the first place. You can see the pain on his face, and he starts to argue with you, but he stops himself. “Leave if you want to. I’m not going to hold you against your will.” He can’t look you in the eye after that, though.

He still brings you your favorite food, gives you your favorite books to reread while you’re sailing. He doesn’t speak to you much, or even stick around in your space for long, but he brings you something at least once a day. You can't help but note how well the captain knows you. 

You mention this to a few crewmates, and note how nice it must be to have a captain who’s so attentive to everyone’s likes and dislikes. They all exchange glances, trying to weigh if they should say something or not. 

Finally Penguin speaks up. “Well, he’s not quite as attentive to us as he is to you.” You give him a nervous laugh and ask him to explain. Nobody really speaks up, and you get irritated with all the secrecy.

You storm into Law’s office. “Why do you know so much about me?” Your question takes him by surprise, and you can see he's taken aback by your question.

“I’m a good captain,” he finally stutters out. “Bullshit,” you shoot back. But he insists that's all there is to it, and you know the conversation is over. 

You seek out Penguin again, and corner him into telling you what everyone else already knows. You and the captain have a history. And a long, complicated one at that. 

You return to your captain’s office, but stop yourself before you barge in. You stand outside his door for a long time, debating on what to do with this new information from Penguin. 

You’re about to leave when the door opens, and you find yourself face to face with the man that you apparently love. Both of you stare at each other for a few seconds, saying nothing. You realize it’s the first time you’ve looked him in his eyes since that first day you woke up on the ship. His eyes are a soft amber color, and the light dances across them, making his pupils seem alive, flowing with movement. 

Law finally breaks the silence. “Is there something you need?” He hasn’t said your name since that first day, and you miss hearing it for some reason. 

“I’d like to stay, if that’s okay. On the crew, I mean.” You didn’t know those words were going to come out of your mouth, but you’re happy they do. Though he tries to hide it, Law’s eyes light up, and you catch a brief smile on his lips. 

Internally, Law’s heart soars. He spent so many days sick with worry thinking he was going to lose you, but you’re still the same person you were deep down. He’s holding back tears of relief knowing you aren’t going to leave him. ���Of course, Y/N-ya. You are always welcome here.”

You don’t know if your memory will ever come back, but you find yourself hoping it does.

[favefandomimagines]

Love is a Battlefield (j.m)

Request: Idk I don’t have like a request request but anything with jj maybank honestly okay or maybe the way 13 going on 30 randomly popped in my head like maybe Jenna and matty vibes @idontevenknowbsblog

Summary: JJ Maybank had been your best friend since you were 4 years old and then life started to complicate things.

AN: this is a long one lol and maybe not as close to Jenna and Matty but definitely a best friends to lovers, I got carried away lol not edited

Your mom would joke that it was fate for JJ Maybank to end up in your life. It was fate that her and JJ’s mom would be in the same lamaze class. Because of fate and that friendship, it formed the relationship you cherished the most. JJ was a constant. If there was one thing you could rely on, it was JJ always being there.

Even after his mom left, JJ was there. Moreso after Luke began the drinking and the drugs. It was often a point of contention between him and your mother. She felt she owed it to her long time friend to look after her son and Luke put JJ in danger every day.

Kindergarten started with you and JJ, and ended with you, JJ, John B and Pope. The four of you becoming an instant package deal.

The three of them were there when your dad passed away suddenly when you were 10. Though John B and Pope were supportive, JJ never left your house. Sleeping in a sleeping bag outside your bedroom door for weeks.

It was the four of you navigating your adolescence up until the age of 14. The Summer before sophomore year started with four and finished with five.

Kiara became a fast friend when her parents opened The Wreck and you needed a Summer job to keep you busy. The rest was history, Kie’s Kook year being nothing but a snide comment here and there.

JJ joked that you were the glue that held the Pogues together. If they didn’t have you they’d all fall apart. He loved you since you were 14, all throughout high school and he never said a thing. You staying in his life was more important than how you stayed in his life.

Now you were quickly approaching graduation. You hadn’t been too open about your post-grad plans and that worried him.

He was worried you were going to leave him and never come back. Was it overdramatic? Sure, but it was also realistic. You were always too good for him and maybe that’s why he never told you how he felt.

It was the night before the first day of senior year and the Pogues were sitting around the fire at the Chateau.

“What are everyone’s post-grad plans? We haven’t really talked about it.” John B spoke. “Way to kill the mood, dude.” JJ replied. “Come on, we have to talk about it. We can’t stay at the Chateau forever.” John B replied. “Well, I got into USC. Only a 6 hour drive from you guys.” Kie said.

“I’ll be going to community college on the mainland.” Pope replied. “Starting trade school next fall, open up my own garage here.” John B said. “Y/N, what about you?” Kie asked. “Oh, well, if you would’ve asked me two weeks ago I would’ve said nothing at all but, I do have some news.” You answered.

JJ furrowed his eyebrows at your words. News? What have you not told him? You tell him everything.

“I applied to UNC and I got in. Almost a full ride but I’ll work for the rest of my tuition.” You announced. The Pogues cheered and came to their feet to applaud you. You had always talked about attending UNC ever since you found out your dad had attended.

“That’s amazing, Y/N!” John B cheered. “And only 3 hours from you and J.” You commented. JJ being the only one to not congratulate you didn’t go unnoticed by you. While everyone was occupied, you nudged his foot with yours, signalling to go down to the dock.

You both got up from your spots and walked down to the water in silence. “I know what you’re thinking,” You started. “And what am I thinking?”JJ asked. “You think I’m leaving you. That I’m going to move on from you, find something better.” You continued.

JJ’s silence proved that your thoughts were right. “J, I’m not going anywhere yet. It’s only August, we have almost a year left.” You spoke. “Y/N, this is UNC. You’re going to school, get your fancy degree and move on from your entire life. Me included, you won’t want to hang out with some guy who’s doing nothing with his life.” JJ explained.

“You’re taking over the entire yacht club. That’s a big deal! You’re going to be getting a head start with your life while I’ll be in school for 8 years waiting to start mine.” You replied. “Besides, you think 3 hours is going to keep me away?” You added.

JJ shrugged, his gaze fixated on the water in front of him. “You’re my best friend, JJ. I would never leave you behind.” You added. “Do you promise?” He asked. “I promise.” You said, holding out your pinky in front of him.

“A pinky promise? Come on, Y/N, we’re 18.” JJ said. “And when have I ever broken a pinky promise?” You rebutted. JJ smirked slightly before hooking his pinky with your’s.

XX

It was October. The leaves began to change and the air was becoming brisk. Fall had descended upon the Outer Banks and Fall meant homecoming. You thought you had outgrown the excitement for homecoming but it was your last one. And you thought that maybe homecoming was the perfect time to tell JJ how you felt about him.

Somewhere between 15 and 16, the feelings of love you had for JJ had gone from platonic to the complete opposite. That was why you held off on telling JJ about UNC. Thinking that you two could live in your perfect teenage bubble for a little while longer.

You felt stupid for trying to pursue a relationship with JJ a few months before you left for college but your friendship has withstood the test of time, it could withstand 266 miles. Right? You owed it to yourself to try.

“So, are you going to ask JJ to homecoming?” Kie asked. “How did you know?” You asked your friend as the pair of you stood at her locker. “Because I know you, Y/N. You’ve had feelings for you for as long as I’ve known you. You look at him the same way you look at Paul Mescal.” She teased.

“Yeah, I think I’m going to ask him. I’m terrified he’s going to say no and then I ruined everything.” You said. “He’s not going to say no. And even if he does, you guys have been through too much to let something this small ruin your friendship.” Kie replied.

You wanted to believe her and that everything was going to be fine one way or another bit as you stood outside JJ’s house, pacing, you couldn’t help but think of the worst case scenario. Luke was MIA so you didn’t have to worry about him storming outside.

JJ walked by his front door and heard your voice mumbling outside. He looked out the window and saw you pacing on his lawn. “Y/N? What are you doing here?” JJ asked as he opened the screen door.

“J, hey, uh I just wanted to ask you something. Or tell you something.” You stammered. “You okay?” He questioned. “Yeah, yeah I’m good.” You said. “What’s up?” He asked.

“Okay, so um, would you want to go to homecoming with me? Either as friends or, uh, more than friends?” You said, avoiding his gaze at all possible. “What?” He questioned. “Do you want to go to homecoming with me? Not as friends but as a date?” You repeated.

JJ thought he was dreaming. Were you really telling him you wanted to go to homecoming as more than friends? But why now? You were leaving for Chapel Hill in the Fall, how is it fair to either of you to pursue your feelings when you’ll just be leaving?

“Y/N, you’re leaving in August. I don’t think you want to do this.” He said. Your face fell as you processed his words. “I’m sorry, what?” You asked. “You’re leaving. Even if I felt the same way, we couldn’t do long distance.” He lied.

JJ lied through his teeth. He had to because he knew you needed to go to UNC. It was your dream, it’s where you always wanted to go. He couldn’t stand in the way of that. It was going to be harder as friends, he couldn’t imagine what it’d be like as your boyfriend.

Though seeing the look on your face made him wish he could take those words back. “Uh, this was a mistake. I should go.” You said, backing away slowly from his front porch.

You were so embarrassed, how could you have misread everything that poorly. “Y/N, we-“ JJ started. “Don’t. Please don’t make me feel worse than I already do.” You interrupted, before turning around and walking home.

JJ could see not only the unshed tears in your eyes, but the hurt as well. He could’ve been honest, told you the truth. He didn’t know how you’d both do long distance once you were in college. He was scared to lose you but he did anyway by lying.

You got home and walked through the front door and saw your mom standing in the entryway. “How’d it go?” She asked. But she could tell by the look on your face that it did not go well.

All you did in response was finally break down in tears. Your mom gave you a solemn look before she walked over and wrapped you in an embrace. “Oh honey, I’m sorry.” She spoke. “I feel so stupid.” You cried. “You’re not stupid, Y/N, you just loved him.”

XX

It was now December. Homecoming came and went and you didn’t go. Two months had gone by and you hadn’t spoken to JJ. You were angry, embarrassed, confused. Why did you think JJ felt the same way? Why did you ruin your friendship like this?

JJ called you everyday, sent texts, but you didn’t want to see or hear what he had to say. You were angry with him for embarrassing you the way he did. And you were stupid enough to think he actually liked you. He was JJ Maybank for crying out loud, every girl in your grade wanted to be with JJ. What made you different?

That meant that your relationship with the Pogues was suffering. You didn’t want to make them choose sides so you made the decision for them and therefore stopped seeing them as often.

But it was now Winter Break and they were determined to figure out what exactly had gone wrong.

“So what’s going on with you and JJ? You haven’t spoke in months.” John B asked as you sat outside your house. “Nothing. What did he tell you?” You questioned.

“Nothing. Just like you. Seriously, Y/N, what happened?” John B questioned. You were quiet for a moment, fidgeting with your fingers.

“I told him how I felt. I told him that I wanted to go to homecoming with him as more than a friend and he rejected me. He doesn’t feel the same way.” You explained.

John B was silent. More so out of confusion than anything else. How could JJ say he didn’t feel the same way when he 100% did?

“Can we please not talk about it? I’m embarrassed enough as it is.” You added, standing up to walk back inside.

John B was going to figure this out one way or another.

He arrived at home and saw JJ’s bike out front. “J?” He called entering the home. “What’s up?” JJ asked, entering the living room. “What is going on with you and Y/N? And don’t lie and tell me nothing. She told me everything.” John B questioned.

JJ was quiet for a moment, knowing that he was going to have to face his mistake. “You have feelings for her, J. Why did you tell her you didn’t?” John B added.

“Because she’s leaving. She’s going to UNC, going to make all of her dreams come true and I can’t be holding her back. What happens if we got together? One, she stays here for me and then down the line resents the fact she stayed instead of following her dreams. Two, I get my heart broken because I fall even more in love with her and she leaves. It doesn’t end well for either of us either way.” JJ answered.

“JJ, you can’t live your life like that. Have you ever thought about going with her? They have jobs in Chapel Hill.” John B suggested. “And be her loser boyfriend who followed her from home?” JJ scoffed. “Now you’re just being a jerk. And being way too hard on yourself.” His friend said.

“It’s the truth, John B.” JJ replied. “No it’s not. You just won’t let yourself be happy.” John B told him.

JJ was quiet as John B walked off to his room. Maybe he had a point. He was finding excuse after excuse to not let himself be happy. But his entire life was based on waiting for the other shoe to drop.

You were the most important person to him and he couldn’t lose you like he’s lost everyone else. What was he supposed to do? The damage was done, you weren’t talking to him. There was no way he could make things right.

His body moved before his brain could catch up, and he was getting on his bike making a run for your house. John B was right. He shouldn’t be letting these things get in the way of something that would make him happy.

When he arrived, he barely turned the bike off before he was already off. He just stood there for a moment, thinking about what he was going to do next. He didn’t really leave with a plan.

JJ looked down at the flower bed and saw small pebbles and his brain kicked into over drive.

He tossed the first pebble at your window, the sound slightly echoing off the glass. After a few seconds, he tossed another one.

You were sitting on your bed reading a book when you heard taps on your window. You furrowed your eyebrows as you discarded the book and walked to the window.

The sight shocked you. JJ was standing outside tossing rocks at your window. You slid your window opened and looked out. “JJ, what are you doing here?” You asked.

“You weren’t answering my calls or texts.” He says. “I know. That was on purpose.” You sassed back. “I want to say…I lied to you,” He started.

“I lied to you the night you asked me to homecoming. I do feel the same way. I have since we were 14 and you punched Rafe Cameron in the nose for making fun of my backpack. You’re my best friend. You’re perfect and I just got scared. Scared that no matter what, we were just going to be another high school couple and never speak again once you leave. I love you, Y/N and I was stupid to make you think that I don’t.” JJ finished.

“Give me a sec.” You said before closing the window. JJ’s heart sank. Were you going to reject him? He felt like he was going to throw up from anxiety.

JJ heard the front door open and moved to stand in front of your porch. You walked out in your seashell pajamas that you bought with Sarah last year.

"Do you mean all of that?" You asked. "You're not just going to bail when it gets hard?" You added. "No, no I'm not going to bail. You're worth it, Y/N. Like you said you'll only be a few hours away. I could be in Chapel Hill by noon on a Wednesday if you said the word." JJ said.

"Then I guess I need to get a UNC Boyfriend t-shirt. If that's what you want." You said. "I'll wear that t-shirt every single day." JJ said, walking towards you kissing you deeply.

You had imagined your first kiss with JJ many times and the real thing was so much better than you had thought.

[intheshadowsbehindyou]

Mercs x gn reader who’s blind? They’re not a fighter or something but they help around keeping the base in check or something, they have really good hearing.

Can tell the guys apart from their footsteps, even catching Spy off guard when they noticed him sneaking about.

One thing they want to familiarize with the Mercs are their face shapes. They may not see them with their eyes but they picture them to match their voices. GN Reader adores being around these noisy men.

TF2 Mercs with a blind reader (Most notably Spy..)

Warning: Brainless imbeciles

EDIT: I MISREAD THIS ASK IM SORRY THE BLIND READER IS A MERC AAAAAAA

Scout:

-He is wracked at first with the misinformation surrounding blindness. At first, he thinks your world is completely dark. Night-time type of darkness and you have no ways of seeing his shape whatsoever. Which might be half true for some of you, but imagine his awe when you look directly at him after being spoken to. You could hear this idiot nagging from a mile away.

- “Wait, so do you know i’m white?” “I’m blind, Scout. Not stupid.”

- He’s clearly been unsocialized to those with vision impairment. It shows in his borderline stupid behavior. Waves his bat in front of your face and then winces when you angrily grab it and yank it away from him. Thats when he discovers that blind people typically don’t enjoy that. Gee, you learn something new everyday!

- Runs really fast by you on the battlefield and your face follows the exact direction from where he came from to where he was going. He saw this for a split second and needless to say, he envies your heightened hearing. You had a mildly interested expression the entire time. As if trying to discern if that was an enemy scout or not. Hmm, no. It’s definitely your scout. Nobody else uses that pretentious ass expensive cologne from tuefort’s strip mall. You wanted to gag.

- You could hear him easier than any other merc. His footsteps were simply too evident and easy to identify due to the rhythmic fast-pace. Like an annoying fly buzzing past your ear. (In all honesty, you’re not too far off.) Scout gave himself away way too easily and it concerned you a bit.

——————————————————————-

Soldier:

- “LOOK ME IN THE EYES WHEN I’M SPEAKING TO YOU, ROOKIE!” Soldier says confidently. You glare and say “Well I’d do that if I could see where your fucking eyes are.” aaaaand cue soldier’s immediate realization and instant guilt. These men seriously just speak out of their ass impulsively like babies.

- Bumps into you on accident in the hallway a few times and you certainly don’t need vision to know he opens his mouth in protest before immediately closing it and apologizing profusely for not being mindful enough toward your position. In fact this is beginning to happen a lot more than the other mercs for some reason.. The other ones EASILY move out of your way or make space politely. Yes, even Spy and Medic.

- You approach him one day; and you ask him if he might consider he has vision problems as well. Soldier quietly ponders the thought before audibly shrugging. You shake your head and ask him if he has any blurry vision, blind spots and whatnot. He mentions the top half of his eyes are pretty much dark. You blink for a second, then reach out to touch his head. Feeling something hard and metal.. You pull it off his head and he’s like “HOLY MOLY MARY MOTHER OF ROCKET JUMPING CHRIST! YOU FIXED MY BLINDNESS, PRIVATE! YOU MUST BE A DESCENDANT OF THE GOOD LORD JESUS!” Yes, it was his oversized helmet.

- You rub the bridge of your nose for a moment, utterly fucking tired and it’s not even ten yet.

——————————————————————

Demoman:

- SAME HAT! Sort of. Demoman is missing an eye, and his blind spot is annoying. You’ve both sort of unintentionally bonded over your poor eyes and after memorizing where his blind spot was, you make sure to walk up behind him in that exact area to startle him. Which usually results in both of you howling in laughter.

- You nervously ask demoman to be your eyes on the battlefield one day while anxiety is quite intense. Demoman shakes his head in irritation. “Ye do know I have horrible depth perception, everybody and der mother is movin at mach 10!?” and you respond “Great! We’re fucked.” You were indeed not fucked. Both of you managed to tough it out by ears alone. You make a great team and demoman is blessed to have you. You protect each other expertly.

- If you happen to have a white cane by any chance, prepare to do childish pretend sword battles with him during dinner time. Don’t worry, he’s using a broom. God knows that eyelander would actually try to kill you and everyone else in the room. Miss pauling is very displeased by your guys’ table manners.

————————————————————————

Engineer:

- You inspire him a bit. He was always a bit secretly doubtful of his own abilities after losing his hand in battle. It gave him a nagging insecurity that he’d fuck up in some way, or was no longer qualified due to his disability. You completely destroyed that insecure side of him. The way you effortlessly kill and complete your missions has made him feel better.

- You’re in his workshop one night, and you’ve memorized pretty much the entire layout of the room as this point. Minus maybe a few annoying bolts on the ground here and there that you dance over. You approach him and put your hands on his shoulder. Which he responds to by rubbing your left hand. “So uh, are you making some weird contraption that’ll fix my eyesight or something?” You ask as a joke.

- Engineer sounds offended by such a thing. “You don’t feel broken, do you? I’m not doing that.” He says sternly. “You’re not broken, Y/N. If you want I can make somethin’ partner but there’s nothing wrong with you and I don’t want you to feel that way. You’re no toy to be fixed so that everyone else is somehow comfortable! If ‘em boys are bothering you why I oughta—“

- You sigh in slight exasperation from the random dad rant but in the inside you’re thankful for his words. You hug him tightly in gratitude to shut him up and then feel a cold metal touch your arm. You look down, unable to discern the shape of the object. But it’s undoubtedly robotic-feeling. “Whats that?” You ask. Engineer pauses. Realizing he had taken his glove off. He realizes now’s a good time to remind you he’s on your side. He strokes you with his metal hand to soothe you. “Let’s just say we aren’t too different in some respects, sugar.” And his words is what makes you realize what it is.

- You drag the metal hand to your cheek and feel the cool claws against your skin. The thumb of the machinery rubs your chin.

————————————————————————-

Heavy:

- He figures out you’re blind right away and he genuinely doesn’t give a shit. He finds everybody equally annoying, like I said beforehand. You’ll notice as aforementioned he moves out of your way in the hallway however and aids you around the building whenever you ask him. He seems to care.

- He asks you how big he is from your perspective. You can answer that pretty confidently. The truth of the matter is that he’s the most recognizable due to his large body, rumbling voice, and massive footsteps. He nods and slightly smiles with reassurance. Good. Even those with eyesight problems know he’s dangerous. excellent. Just the way he likes it.

- Heavy fully trusts in your abilities and makes no attempts to help you in battle unless you ask. He’s seen you bash heads in one too many times without much thought and it’s safe to say they made a great call hiring you. Clearly you don’t let being blind affect your work whatsoever. In a weird sort of way, he feels oddly proud of you but won’t ever voice it outloud.

- You save him from a Spy and this causes a distant, disheveled look in his eyes as you run off and he stops whirling his gun. It isn’t often his kindness is rewarded like this. (Also now he’s wondering if he should ask Medic to give him supersonic hearing.)

———————————————————————-

Pyro:

- Pyro doesn’t realize you’re blind at all at first. It’s just not something they think much about when accessing new friends. His mind isn’t on scoping out their inherent “flaws” but rather scoping out how well you treat the others around you. Which is an odd thing for Pyro considering they’re quite content on vandalizing shit, disregarding people’s worldly positions and their feelings on it, and overall being an unforgiving nutcase who’d 100% bite off all the heads of their animal crackers and put them back in the box.

- Once they figure out you’re actually not here to cause damage, they seem to warm up fast. Pun intended. I think the moment they realize something’s wrong is when they silently point out a sniper around the corner with their pointer finger and you don’t even flinch. In their stead, Soldier audibly reminds you. This causes pyro to re-think how you might perceive some stuff.

- They begin to psychoanalyze you more out of habit. You seem to disregard a lot of certain visual stimuli in favor of sound. Without even asking you they figure out after a while that you’re blind and quickly adjust their behavior to better accommodate you. Instead of pointing at danger for example, they grab your hand and make you point at it… Which works, I mean. But he could just speak, y’know? It’s not like you can’t hear them better than anyone else over that gas mask.

- Pyro figures out how to convey signals to you without having to do the hard task of speaking. Two taps on your shoulder meant spy, one tap meant sentry around corner, and so on. Not only did this hide his intentions from the enemy team but helped you team up with them quickly.

————————————————————————

Sniper:

- Ugh.. Sniper is much like Scout in the sense that he has no clue how to respond to a blind person. He quickly assumes you’re inept at first and begins prioritizing your position on the battlefield more than anyone else. Shooting down key targets that get too close to you; or get in a quarrel with you. It’s flattering really but you can hold your own in a fight just fine. This is affecting your performance.

- You admittedly lose your mind and yell at him. But to be honest he had it coming with his stupid assumptions. Sniper doesn’t even complain nor move a muscle as you shout at him and storm off. He immediately feels regretful and tips his hat forward. Once again he’s lost another potential friend to his own behavior. “I was only trying to keep you alive.” He mutters to himself as he turns away. Unbeknownst to him, you heard it.

- Convinced, you sigh and walk back to him and run down the fact that you’re independent, and that you appreciated it but it’s important you complete things by yourself. Then you bitterly apologize for yelling at him. You could have swore you heard a soft “Sorry too…”

- This unexpected softness from a hard rough and tough guy like Sniper is what makes you reconsider him. He’s willing to fess up and apologize for having a bias. He just sucks at it. You forgive him hesitantly and you learn to not regret that later. Because he soon learns that you’re simply equal to all the other mercs and treats you as such.

———————————————————————-

Medic:

- Come on now, really? He already has his hands on your medical history the moment you walk through the door. He doesn’t skip a beat whenever idly scanning for things he should keep note of. Medic never even asks you if you’re blind. He simply acts as though he’s always known. Opening doors for you, directing you if you truly need it. Aggressively shoving the other mercs out of the way to make way for you so he doesn’t need to tend to BOTH your wounds.

- At first you suspected him to go crazy over time and check your eyesight curiously like a wet specimen in a jar. But his indifference is.. Slightly unnerving. You decide to enter his office and hesitantly remind him that you’re blind. Because you genuinely don’t know at this rate.

- “So..?” He asks. Rather rudely at that. You want to exhale loudly in anger so badly. Why was everyone in this fuckin’ place so mean?? Medic takes his glasses off and readjusts the position of his desk papers. “Should I act upon this more and enforce more adjustments?”

- “No—“ You say slowly. “I didn’t know you even knew. Normally you’d go crazy with curiosity whenever someone is even mildly different than you in an attempt to understand them.” You tell him. This causes him to sort of put his fist to his lips and snort. Holding back a laugh. “What? You think I haven’t met a blind person before? You’re forgetting i’m a doctor. Plus that just means we’re safer with you around. I’d rather not be backstabbed a thousand times each round anymore.”

- Agh.. That explains it. That yellow folder on the table with the blurry photo of your image also explains it.

—————————————————————————-

Spy:

- FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

- His poor pride is in pieces on the ground whenever you’re nearby. The other mercs can visibly see his fists clench into a ball and swear they see his eye twitch. Scout especially wonders if you’re going to be the one who finally blows his lid. Why? JUST WHY? Why can you hear him when nobody else can? He’s like a magician the way he disappears into the shadows. So why does it not affect you?

- He’s superior in every way and he knows it. So why is it whenever he’s lightly walking along the hallway to have a smoke break that you turn around and greet him? Truly, nobody else walks as gently and lightly as he does. His footwork to your ears is like a tiptoeing predator in the bushes the way he walks so slowly to achieve stealth. He freezes in place and grits his teeth everytime you do this… Then suppresses his own unholy wrath and stumbles away.

- .. You’re making him needlessly paranoid. He can’t work under these conditions. If you can sense him, then surely eventually the other team will? Congratulations on singlehandedly causing this old man work related silent panic attacks. His hair is falling out more than usual and he’s staring at himself in the mirror, with a dead gone expression. Staring into the void. He’s dissociating now.

- Tries to outsmart your own heightened senses in any way he can. The closest he’s gotten is maybe sneaking into your room while you were asleep to check your drawer and you woke up due to the sound of the drawer opening. After rolling around to face him, his cat-like eyes in the darkness disappeared as fast as they came in. WHOOOOSHHHhh went his cloak. You could even hear him tapping his watch in the process. Really, you didn’t understand how he was such a huge threat to the other team.

[oozedninjas]

Ninja's Heartstrings

Summary:

Leo and Raph are in love with you, and they both show it in their own unique ways, sparking constant clashes that make Donnie and Mikey uncomfortable, causing conflicts within the group.

Beyond enjoying their attention, you begin to realize that you have strong feelings for both of them, and you find yourself torn between whom to choose. But one day, it dawns on you: Aren't brothers supposed to share everything?

WARNINGS: NSFW (suggestive) / part one of two of an eventual trio-smut / +18 MDNI / Leo and Raph are in their late twenties /

Master Splinter always said that a ninja must be observant. After so many years of hearing that statement, Leo noticed he applied that principle not only on the battlefield but also in his personal life, which sometimes left him wondering whether he had incorporated it as a part of his personality or if he simply couldn't help but scrutinize things in detail when it was about you.

He paid attention to the way your hair moved when you walked, to the glow in your eyes when you were happy. He noticed the way you frowned when displeased and sighed when disappointed. He marveled at how absolutely ravishing you looked no matter what you wore. It wasn't fair how you could weaken him without even trying. 

Leo couldn't help the look of excitement in his eyes as they followed you when you entered the lair. And certainly, he couldn't stop his heart from pounding like crazy when you noticed and waved at him. However, it was Raphael who you approached. 

He casually held you by the waist as you showed him the film you had brought for the usual movie night. It was only then that Raph darted a quick look at Leo across the room. A sly smirk came with it. Of course he knew. Leo understood right there that his feelings for you slipped through him like water through fingers. Whenever he looked at you, his gaze held such a depth of sentiment that it was impossible to conceal. 

Of course, Raph knew, and he made it very clear that he felt the exact same way about you, and he wasn’t giving you up. It was evident in every protective move he made around you: casually placing his hand over the sharp edges of the furniture whenever you passed too close, serving you the largest slice of pizza, or giving you the bigger piece when splitting a piece of chocolate in half. He would take you home each night after your visits to the lair on his motorbike and come back smiling like a true fool.

Leo sighed, resigned. He loved his brother and would be more than happy to share his contentment at being with someone as wonderful as you. Yeah, maybe that was the right thing to do. 

"Hey, aren't you coming?" you turned to ask.

You smiled at him as if your heart was physically calling for him. Ah, crap. He wouldn’t stand seeing you smile like that to anyone else. That day, the leader in blue set his mind on one thing and one thing only: he would fairly win you over. Leo grinned back at you with a dangerous glow in his eyes.

"Yeah, make some room for me."

*****.

“She’s gonna be here soon,” Mikey said as he arranged the cushions on the living room sofa. He had already cleaned up the empty pizza boxes and now Donnie was placing them in a black plastic bag along with other trash remains. 

The gentle, yellow-tinged warmth light permeated through the grooves in the ceiling, barely kissing the furniture surface. 

“Yeah, hope things don’t get weird again,” Donnie said.

He spoke in a somewhat whining tone, as he rolled his eyes. Mikey chuckled.

“Tell me about it. Which of them will snap first this time?”  

“My bet is on Raph.” 

“Hmm, I don’t know, Leo was this close last time!” 

Mikey made a tiny gesture with his fingers as he giggled to the thought of Leo’s deep frown when you chose Raph to cuddle with while watching the movie the last time you were there.

“I was close to what?” the leader interjected, arms crossed. His gaze was skeptical as his tone curious. 

“Oh, you know, demanding a duel combat with Raph owing to jealousy,” Donnie answered as he tied a knot in the black plastic bag.

Leonardo's expression darkened. 

“What?” 

Mikey gulped, feeling somewhat uncomfortable with the abrupt change in the atmosphere, but he remained quiet. 

“Come on, don’t play dumb. You know what I’m talking about.'' 

"Who's playin' dumb?"

Raphael entered the living room then, pop-corn on one hand, a soda can in the other. His voice was so glowy it made his good mood palpable. 

“No one. Donatello is just overthinking stuff,” Leo deflected. 

Raph let out a closed-mouthed chuckle. “When isn't he?”

Donnie gaped, offended.  

“Excuse me?! I’m not overthinking anything. I’m just stating the facts.” Donatello whined while putting off the bag.

“Which are?” Raph asked while leaning on the opposite wall on which Leo was standing.

 "You both need to cease displaying such��" he paused for a moment, attempting to pinpoint the precise words to encapsulate the entire situation. "Enticing behavior towards her!"

"What?" Raph managed to force out a scoffing chuckle to mask he had choked on his soda. 

“Oh, please,” Donatello said sardonically. 

Raph was about to retort but Mikey spoke first. 

“Look, we’re just saying it’s obvious you’re both into her, and sometimes it’s uncomfortable to be trapped in the middle of—”

“Of whatever mating rituals you’re putting out to win her over,” Donatello finished, tired of feeling cringed every time you visited the lair.  

The door swung open just then, before anyone else could utter another word. You strode to the room, and all heads turned in your direction.

"Hey, guys!" you greeted with a cheerful tone, but you couldn't ignore the heaviness in the atmosphere settling onto your shoulders. The four turtles exchanged a knowing look. "Did I miss something?"

“No! no, we were just having a… creative discussion” Mikey said quickly, smiling. His fingers fidgeted close to his plastron. 

“Couldn’t decide which movie to watch tonight,” Leo said in a much more smooth tone. “Think you can help with that, doll?” 

His voice was velvety as he addressed you. Rapahel rolled his eyes, and Donatello murmured something you didn’t quite catch. 

“I could bring up some options, I guess.” 

"Be my guest," Leo extended his hand to escort you to the sofa, but Raph swiftly slapped it away before you could grasp it.

"She knows the way. You're not a damn host," Raph growled under his breath.

"Oh my God, I can't take this anymore. I'm calling it quits for tonight," Donnie declared, turning to face you. "It's wonderful to see you, but I've got some lab work to wrap up. Enjoy the evening, and make yourself at home." Donnie bid you farewell with an apologetic smile. He shot his brothers a glare of frustration as he left.

“I’m off too… places to be, pizza to eat, you know!” Mikey let out a chuckle before vanishing from sight.

You stood there, utterly perplexed. After a few moments of processing how everyone had essentially fled the movie night, you shifted your attention to Leo and Raph, your expression demanding answers. Impatience grew with each passing second as your foot tapped the floor in rhythm.

"Well? What's going on?"

“They’re party poppers, don’t mind them. Now c'mon, sit with me.” Raph placed his arm around your shoulders casually, offering you popcorn with the other. Leo was about to make a comment but you spoke first.

“Actually…” you said slipping away from his hold smoothly, “I want to sit with Leo tonight.” 

Raphael clenched his jaw, “Fine, whatever. What are we watching?” 

You frowned at the sudden harsh tone, but didn’t really understand the problem. You had indeed sat beside him last time. Was he…?

“Come on Raph, don’t be a sore loser.” 

"I ain't lost nothin' yet," he shot back, with a determined tone.

"Hey, uh, guys?" Your voice wavered with a mix of uncertainty and squeakiness.

They both shifted their attention to you, guilt flashing across their faces as they registered your puzzled expression. Raphael let out a sigh.

"Ya know? I actually gotta kick some butts tonight." 

He handed you the popcorn bowl as he finished the soda, strolling toward the door.

“What?! you’re leaving too?” You asked, reaching out to him but Leo grasped your hand, stopping you in your tracks. 

“Let him go, he needs to cool down,” the leader whispered to you. 

"Sorry, sugar, catch ya next time... unless ya wanna swap flicks for somethin' more thrillin'," he smirked, taking a few steps back to get a good look at you. Raphael adored the way your eyes lit up at his words, but he wasn't thrilled about Leo's hand holding you in place.

“That’s tempting, but I really wanted to do something chill tonight. See you around Raph!'' 

He shrugged, seemingly dismissive. “Your loss.” 

It wasn’t visible but the amount of self-control that took him to just go was huge. He would rather leave than seeing you glued to his brother's side all night and he knew better than trying to make you change your mind. Additionally, starting a fight could make matters worse, and he didn’t feel like falling from your good side. 

“Now, what if you show me your favorite movie?” Leo smiled, but this time there was something more to his smile. 

*IIII*

You both were sitting on the couch, his arm over your shoulders and your head leaned against his own. Outer-thighs barely touching. His breathing was even, plastron moving calmly. You hadn't really gotten used to watching it up close. It was pretty. Marked with small indentations which made it look like you could run your nails over them… and so you did, jolting him a bit, but Leo just glanced at you, flashing a smile before returning his eyes to the tv. He stood still despite his heart hammering loudly. Could you hear it? He tensed. 

You were absorbed touching him, imagining –not for the first time– how would that part of him feel against your own. Bare skin to skin, your nipples rubbing on the hard surface of his chest. Your breath hitched. It wasn’t right to have this kind of fantasies when he was right beside you, yet you couldn’t help yourself. Your mind simply took life of its own and started to produce several indecorous images. 

It was like that night with Rapahel, the other day. 

Both of you were riding on his bike, he told you he wanted to show you one of his favorite spots to watch the city lights and you traveled hugging him from behind, chest against his shell. Scratches and marks of combat decorated his carapace. His muscly shoulders barely peeked from ahead and you would have given everything to just let your hands wander his entire back. 

“Well, here we are,” he said, stopping the motorbike before he jumped off in one smooth movement. 

“An abandoned building?” you said skeptically, following him to the creepy dark entrance. 

“Scared?” he teased, looking back at you with a smirk. 

“As if.” 

It was indeed quite gloomy, Raph's presence dispelled your fears. Naturally, you'd rather meet your end than admit it out loud and inflate his ego to an even more dangerous extent.

He entered, and you trailed closely. The space resembled an abandoned hotel lobby, with wood marred by moss and the steel of the staircase corroding. A peculiar blend of natural light and the faint reflections of neon-glowing advertisements scarcely penetrated through the shattered windows. Somehow, you thought, it was something along with Rapahel aesthetics.

You two ascended the ladder, and with each step, your body pulsed with anxiety, the thought crossing your mind that perhaps the stairs wouldn't bear the weight of both of you since they creaked strangely with each step. But those were unfounded worries. Soon, you reached the top floor, and Raphael swung open the door that led to the roof. New York City at night, seen from the pinnacle of an abandoned building, offered a breathtaking view.

He perched on the edge and extended his hand to you. Without hesitation, you took it, settling beside him, your legs dangling over the cars bustling along the avenue below.

“Raph this is amazing!” you said, unable to repress a smile. 

“I know” he hesitated before continuing, “I used to come here a lot… back then.” 

You turned to him, his expression was deep, and you decided not to let go of his hand.

“When you were a merciless vigilante?” you tried to joke and he smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. 

“Come one, I wasn’t ‘merciless’ I actually gave them many chances to withdraw.” he lied, jestingly “Guess they loved having their asses kicked.” 

You laughed at that and this time he seemed more relaxed. 

“Or maybe they stupidly thought they could defeat you” 

"They should've known better. I'm faster and stronger than 'em. Always have been," he boasted with that air of superiority that you adored. "Besides, no one stands a chance against the Nightwatcher."

"Or big metal turtle, like Casey called it," you chuckled. "Man, I would've loved to see you in that armor," you mused absentmindedly after a couple of seconds, and he shot you a smirk.

"I still got it. I might wear it if you ask me real nice," he said smoothly, with that low tone that sent shivers down your spine and made your thighs clench. Yet, you didn't let it show.

"Ooh... please show me?" you said, offering him your most charming smile. Raph laughed, his voice raspy and deep.

"You'll have to do better than that." 

"Come on, Raph, you want me to beg?" you protested, shifting carefully to avoid falling. His eyes sparkled, and his smirk grew wider.

"Fine," you whined, "could you please try on the armor for me?" Raphael scoffed.

"That was still kinda weak, but I suppose it'll have to do." He started to move as if to stand up, but you instinctively interlocked your fingers with his, not even thinking about it. His eyes flicked down to your hands and then back to you, questioning.

"Not tonight, though. I'm too comfy to move," you remarked. As you said that, you pressed your side against his, and he gently tightened his grip on your fingers. It felt wonderful to be close like that, in a peculiar kind of embrace amid the heights, incredibly intimate and heartwarming. A few seconds passed during which you both simply gazed at the city and how far the streets stretched. Then, he softly called your name, his hold on your hand trembling slightly.

"I've been meanin' to tell ya somethin'," he began, and you looked at him with a small smile.

"What?"

Raph moved closer, his eyes ensnaring yours with their intensity. There was something in them, a gaze concealing a sentiment he'd been bottling up until now, much like you had. He lowered his face, resting his forehead against yours, and your noses brushed against each other.

"You can tell me anything," your voice barely more than a longing whisper. Your mouth drew nearer to his with each passing moment, your half-closed eyes revealing your desire.

The high-pitched wail of a siren, accompanied by the flicker of red and blue lights, made Raph growl as he reluctantly tore himself away from you.

"Duty calls." He breathed with flushed cheeks before clearing his throat.

Something – someone – shocked your arm repeatedly, pulling you out of the sweet memory. Leo was gazing at you with a mix of amusement and doubt, as if he were anticipating something from you.

"I'm sorry, what?" you said, blinking a little.

"I asked if you'd like more popcorn." He gestured to the empty bowl, and you gasped. Had you devoured it all by yourself, lost in your own mental movie?

"Oh no! No, thank you." You felt heat burning the back of your neck as color crept to your cheeks when you realized that he might be asking because he was the one who wanted more, since you had selfishly eaten it all on your own. "B-but if you want more, I can go get some."

Leo chuckled at you before smiling sweetly. "It's fine, I'm good."

"You know, there's something I'll never understand about romantic comedies," you changed the subject as the movie continued. You couldn't quite keep quiet now, perhaps due to nervousness. "And it's why they only seem to make you yearn for a lover so perfect."

Leo raised a brow.  

"How's that?" he asked, leaning closer, and you could feel his cheek resting on your head. You thought he must look cute, eyes still on the TV as your chest tightened with the desire to hug him.

Slut. 

The thought came so fast and so forcefully, crashing onto you from the back of your head to your eyes, throbbing. Slut. Hadn't you just been remembering how you felt in Raph's arms a literal second ago? Then why? Why did what you were feeling right now seem so close to that, if not even the same...

"Well, th-the protagonist's romantic interest is always too stunning for real-life standards. There's no one that perfect," you continued the conversation, trying to block your own thoughts.

Leo shifted to look right into your eyes. "I wouldn't be so sure about that," he said, flashing you a charming smile. You blushed even harder this time.

"Oooh, don't tell me you think you've found the one," you teased, trying to escape the cringe of your own mind without realizing you were digging your own grave.

Leo kept his little grin and nodded. "I think I may have, yes."

"How's she like?" You knew he was talking about you; all of his body language screamed so. Leo seemed to think for a second.

"Too stunning for real-life standards," he said with a sly look, and you lightly smacked him on the arm with the back of your hand while chuckling. But then he added in a small whisper, "She doesn't seem to mind."

You frowned, "Mind what?"

Leo shrugged, his gaze suddenly fixed on the TV. You weren't supposed to hear that.

"Leo?" you prompted.

"We are ninjas," he started, "and we have acclimated to the idea of living forever banished in the shadows. Alone. Not only because of the secret oath to protect this city, but because of the way we look. Whenever we're together, she looks at me as if..." he locked his gaze on yours again, filled with deep yearning and adoration, "as if she doesn't mind.."

He wasn't talking only about appearances. You deserved someone who could spend time with you during the daytime too. You should get to be with a guy who's able to accompany you to family dinners, publicly celebrate your relatives' or friends' birthdays, heck, someone who could take you to your graduation dinner or job promotion celebrations. He couldn't do all of that, but you already knew, and you didn't seem to care.

"And when she's with me, I feel like I could actually be bold enough..." he leaned closer, eyes half-lidded in craving. His face was now just two inches away from yours, "to kiss her."

The glimmer of his gaze was drawing you into a warmer world, one in which you knew you'd be safe within his arms. Your past worries were now forgotten, lost in the midst of his shallow breaths. 

"Yeah? So why don't you try it out?"

"I might just do that now."

"My son."

Both of you jolted back at the sound of Master Splinter's voice, followed by a throat clearing. You felt your whole body turn red with embarrassment. How long had he been there?!

Leo's expression was priceless, so startled despite his ninja skills. It was so funny that it almost made you forget your embarrassment.

"We were just watching a movie." 

Despite his age, Leo still felt the need to explain himself but didn't move, and he didn't allow you to either. It was his way of acknowledging that he was a grown adult sharing a moment with... well, what were you to him? More importantly, what was he to you? The worries came back strongly, throbbing like a headache.

"A movie that has finished, I suppose?" his dad said, gesturing to the black screen. Leo flashed a look before you spoke.

"Yes, it was very entertaining. Thank you for having me here, Master Splinter," The mutant rat held a serene expression, apparently pleased with your words, "but it's getting late. I should take my leave."

Leo reflexively squeezed your body against his and let go as soon as he realized.

"You don't have to go, dear; my novel is about to start, and you both can stay and watch it with me," he said affably. However, upon noticing his son's expression, he quickly added in a sigh, "Or you can move your date to your room."

Date. The world seemed to strike a chord on you both.

"Actually, I do have some things to do at home. I'm sorry," Leonardo's disappointment was visible through every line of expression on his face. He straightened up, however, and gave you an understanding nod.

"I'll take you home," he told you, moving toward the part of the lair where they stored the turtle-van.

"No! I mean, no, thank you. I think it's better if I go by myself." Leo frowned, doing his best to hide the growing panic burning in his chest. Were you having regrets about the moment you shared just now?

"Thank you anyway, Leo. Goodnight, Master Splinter."

**IIII**

The sound of the rain falling over the roof of your place was exactly what you needed to calm your nerves. You lay on your bed, watching the little drops drip down the glass window. It had been three days since you were in the lair. During this time, you strategically ignored the calls of both Leonardo and Raphael.

You needed time to think about what to do. By this point, it was undeniable that you felt something very strong for both of them. It made no sense to avoid it or deny it. The only thing you had to do now was decide. You huffed, hating the fact you couldn't have both. And then it hit you: why can't you? Who says one must love only one person?

You grabbed your phone from your purse. If there was someone who could help you confess your feelings to both of them and somehow convince them a poly-relationship could work without causing a war, that was April.

[save-the-villainous-cat]

IM BACK FOR ANOTHER ASK!!

Okay so Hero who got hurt in a fight with Villain and Villain who is deeply in love with the hero. Villain helps patching up the hero, but hero absolutely hates depending on anyone and doesn’t quite trust the villain at first 😔

“I…” The villain stared at the worryingly red skin on the hero’s arm. They knew a hematoma would stay, a nasty bruise that would make the hero wince every time they moved their arm in the next week. “I didn’t mean to…”

They didn’t dare to touch the spot, didn’t even want to look at it. The villain swallowed.

Controlling themselves on the battlefield was difficult enough and when the hero kept jumping up and down in front of them, injuries were unavoidable. They loathed that part of themselves, that part that couldn’t be denied anything, that part that took without thinking.

On some days, they blamed their past, on others they blamed their present. Either way, the villain wished to leave all of this behind.

“Oh, spare me.” The hero pulled their arm away, squeezing their eyes shut in pain.

“…it was an accident—”

“Accident?!” The hero wiggled out of the many blankets the villain had thrown onto them in a panic. It had rained the entire day and the hero was as cold as ice by the time the villain had brought them to the car. “You looked quite determined to eliminate me.”

Their eyes drifted to the car’s door but the villain had already locked everything. Their gaze wandered back to the villain, as if they were going to open the gates of hell in order to get out of here. However, in the end, it was just the two of them. In the backseat. In an alley.

“I’m sorry.” The villain wasn’t really keen on talking. “It’s hard to control sometimes.”

“Hard to control, huh?”

The villain didn’t answer. They looked at their own hands, rough and scarred. Quickly, the hero stared at the door behind the villain.

“So, this is a kidnapping?” the hero asked.

“No…” The villain tried to look at anything but the hero. However, it was a little difficult, considering that the car wasn’t that big and that the villain was basically in the hero’s personal space.

The hero studied them.

“What is it then?”

The villain didn’t answer. Instead, they opened the first aid kit that had become their best friend throughout the last weeks. Most of the bandages were used already but that didn’t hinder the villain from refilling it. Carefully, they took the hero’s hand and bandaged it, making sure that their red knuckles had some stability.

“What are you doing?” The hero didn’t pull their hand away but they seemed to accept the villain’s help rather reluctantly.

“You need to stabilise your knuckles. Better for healing,” the villain said. The hero’s hand was still cold. Yet, it was softer than the villain had expected. Their memories haunted them. The hero on the floor, breathing heavily.

The villain had to stop this. Somehow.

“If you’re trying to kidnap me, then just tell me. I’ll escape either way.” The villain cocked their head, as if it was a challenge.

“Don’t worry, sunshine. I’m almost done.”

Apparently, the hero couldn’t say anything to that. Whether they liked it or not was a mystery to the villain. They were quiet and watched them, almost as if to figure out where to put their next chess piece.

After carefully wrapping the bandage around the hero’s hand, the villain unlocked the car’s doors but the hero didn’t leave. Surprisingly enough, they didn’t even move when the villain opened the door for them, revealing the pouring rain outside.

“That means you can go,” the villain said.

“You’re the one they experimented on,” the hero said quietly, as if that changed anything. Again, the villain didn’t answer. This time, it was out of embarrassment. “They told me you’re a monster. I didn’t even realise they talked about you…”

“You can go,” the villain said softly. “I’m not kidnapping you.”

The hero’s eyes were fixed on them.

“Hey, look-”

“Please just go.”

[in1-nutshell]

And hey continuation of The last ask of old predacon buddy how would the decepticons react to Old Predacon buddy revert back into their younger form like out on the battlefield most of them would most likely be terrified (more specifically Megatron because he had to fight old Predacon buddy back then a long time ago)

Megatron is not going to have a fun time when he finds out.

Hope you enjoy!

Bot Buddy the Old Predacon turns to their younger self fights the Con's

SFW, Platonic, Cybertronain reader

The Autobot had been ambushed by the Decepticon’s.

They were being swarmed from every angle.

Buddy was becoming more and more restless hearing the sounds of battle through the console as Ratchet turned on the groundbrigde and went in to help.

“Ratchet let me help! We both know I can fight!”--Buddy

“This isn’t a game, Buddy. We can’t have Megatron know that you’re here like this.”--Ratchet

“And what about the others?”--Buddy

“If something does happen then come. But only as a last resort, do you understand?”--Ratchet

“…Fine.”--Buddy

The kids did their best to keep the Predacon calm while they kept on swishing their tail around in irritating fashion.

They were doing a good job keeping things under control despite everything.

“Don’t worry Buddy. They’ll be back before you know it!”--Raf

“Such faith you have Rafael. And such patience.”—Buddy

“It doesn’t look too good, but usually the bots have it covered.”--Jack

“They’ll be okay. The team’s been ambushed plenty of times. They always—”--Miko

“BBBBBBBEEEEEEEEEPPPPPPPPP! (OPTIMUS NNNOOOOO!)”--Bumblebee

“AAARRRGGGGHHHH!”--Optimus

“…”—the kids and Buddy

“…Rafael. Ready the groundbrigde.”—Buddy

Buddy slowly walks to the groundbrigde as Raf activates it.

They go through the portal.

Both sides saw a bridge open on the hill above them.

The bots optics widen knowing who it was.

Optimus was holding on to his wound on his side with Megatron in front of him.

Megatron also looked at the portal curiously.

What did the Autobots have up their…

Oh…

The giant predacon walked out of the portal and scanned the area.

Megatron actually stepped back seeing the site of the young Buddy.

It was almost like seeing Buddy when he first started out as a gladiator.

Soundwave was already planning several portals to help with the evacuation.

Buddy finally set their optics on Megatron and Optimus.

“MEGATRON!”--Buddy

“Is that—”--Megatron

“GET OFF OF PRIME!”--Buddy

Megatron narrows his optics at the Predacon.

“Megatron obeys NO ONE!”--Megatron

Megatron kicked Prime’s wound harshly.

The audial piercing scream that came out of Buddy’s throat made everyone try and cover them up.

It was too fast for anyone to comprehend.

Buddy had flown straight down and tackled Megatron off of Prime and proceeded to beat the ever-loving daylights out of him.

Megatron did put up a fight.

But the fight was already set the moment Megatron kicked Prime in his wound.

Buddy held no remorse for this mech.

This was no longer the Megatronus they knew from their days as gladiators.

This monster.

This Megatron.

Was the enemy.

They were close to offlining him, but Soundwave had tackled them to the ground.

Soundwave quickly sent out the groundbrigdes for the troops and Megatron could escape.

Buddy did manage to tail whip him before he went to the portal.

Buddy huffing as they carefully walk back to their team.

Ratchet is trying to patch up Prime’s wounds.

Buddy kneels down.

“Anyone who can’t walk, get on my back.”--Buddy

Buddy stayed by the injured bots side the entire time.

They absolutely refused to get treated until everyone was treated.

They absolutely did not leave Optimus’s side through the entire way, even afterwards.

“Has anyone seen Optimus?”--Jack

“No, not today.”--Arcee

“I saw him earlier with Buddy.”--Smokescreen

“Found them.”--Ratchet

Buddy has their wings and limbs around Optimus effectively trapping him to the med slab.

“You are not walking till I say so.”--Buddy

“Buddy—”--Optimus

Buddy moves their wing in front of Prime’s face.

“Sleep Pax. I’m going after Bumblebee and Ratchet next.”--Buddy