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#he doesn’t know why you have this power over him but he doesn’t mind it and he wants more of it all the time always
dottedsilktie · 3 days
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Spring cleaning
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Nanami Kento is the perfect man. At least, he would be if he wasn't so hellbent on dragging you into his maddening cleaning routine. Luckily, he knows just how to get you on board. cw : tooth-rotting fluff ! a little suggestive if you squint
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You used to be partial to spring, looking forward to the last days of March when the prospect of warmer days thawed the chilly remnants of winter. Then you met Kento, and spring was no longer associated with flowers in bloom and sunny days ahead. Ever since you moved in together, you started dreading the last two weeks of March. 
Kento had a peculiar way of welcoming the new season and it involved a day of thorough and almost debilitating spring cleaning. The first time he told you about it, you waved off his detailed plan for the day as a joke. Now, years later, you still cower at the thought of the back-breaking, mind-numbing and, quite frankly, infuriating cleaning programme he puts together every year to test your patience.
You've tried everything to get out of it - faking an illness, 'inadvertently' scheduling a conflicting business trip, crying and grovelling at his feet - but nothing worked. So you've come to accept your fate and gave up on throwing a tantrum first thing in the morning when your alarm rang at 6 AM sharp on that dreaded day. Kento was already out of bed, probably gearing up for a long day of power raking the yard and getting off on it. You were almost tempted to snooze it but you knew he would just slither in your room and snatch you out of bed himself. So you steeled yourself to get up, get ready and get cleaning. Kento was waiting for you in the kitchen, brows furrowed and deep in thought as he went over the printed plan he'd stuck on the fridge. He barely acknowledges you when you croak out a hoarse 'good morning' and kiss his cheek, only humming and squeezing your waist in passing. A glance at the plan he perused was enough to send shivers down your spine : it involved raking, watering, trimming everything in the garden, followed by never-ending laundry and finally channelling Kento’s Marie Kondo obsession to sort through your closets and get rid of enough junk to appease his vendetta against unworn clothes.
Once you settle on your high chair in front of the marble countertop,  Kento pushes a cup of coffee towards you, and when you wrinkle your nose at the uncharacteristically potent smell, he explains with a small smile, “Blond roast ristretto - you’re going to need it, darling ” before kissing your forehead and standing up to his full height in front of you. 
You just stare at each other for a while - you sipping the sewer water he called a coffee, and him shooting you a sharp scrutinising glare that’d have you squirming the right way any other day. “You are usually quicker than this, almost feels like you’re stalling for time”, he observes with the slightest amused upwards twitch of his mouth. God why must a man this handsome be so insufferable. “Just savouring the exquisite coffee my darling husband made for me, is that wrong ?”, you retort, tone dripping with sarcasm that only makes his smile wider.  You think you might just be able to charm and laugh your way out of this but he’s quick to pinch your nose to distract you and snatch your mug from your hands, fine blond brows quirked and rosy lips stretched in boyish mirth. He doesn’t have to reprimand you, you’re already raising your hands in defeat, mumbling in a tone nothing short of dejected, “Okay, okay – no need to get handsy,  it’s not easy giving up on my freedom”. To drive your point home, you make a show out of slowly sliding off your high chair, hissing and groaning as you stretch your arms over your head and crack your knuckles right under Kento’s nose. “I’m not fit for these things, Kento - every time I move I feel my body cracking and all, I’m not made for physical labour”.
He listens intently, amusement shifting into mild concern as his hangdog gaze dart between your cup that he rinses off and the pathetic stretching routine you’re performing. Kento moves to dry his hands on a kitchen towel before cupping your cheeks. His amber eyes are so soft and he looks at you with a fondness so genuine, so poignant you’re sure he’s going to let you off the hook. You inch even closer to victory when he bends down to brush the tip of his nose against yours and ghost chaste kisses along your cheeks, your jaw, then your temples. He stays like that for a while, one hand at your nape brushing the delicate hair there, the other cradling your face and rubbing soothing circles against your heated skin.
“I’m sorry”, he whispers right into your ear, his voice smooth and comforting, then he’s back to peppering your temple and cheek with small pecks that make you melt against him. “It’s fine, I know you wouldn’t want to put me through that now that you see just how bad it’d be for me to — " “I’m sorry that you thought this would be a convincing performance”, he cuts you off, biting down on your earlobe, making you gasp at the unexpected nip of his sharp teeth against your sensitive skin.
He pulls back to appreciate how your pretty face contorts in fluster, then surprise, before twisting in an angry pout. You’re gnawing at your bottom lip, arms crossed over your chest, truly defeated this time and the shame of being played only adds to your growing irritation. “My petulant little thespian is at her wits’ end”, he taunts you in a singsong voice, his usually inflectionless baritone voice sounding uncharacteristically chipper. You stare at your feet with the vexed mortification of a child caught red-handed and Kento has to hook a finger under your chin for you to look him in the eyes.
“Do a good job cleaning today and I might just help you work out those aches that make you ‘unfit’, mmh ?”, he offers, the swift flicker of his gaze between your eyes and your lips sullying the apparent innocence of his offer. He doesn’t give you time to answer as he brushes past you, a smug smile playing on his lips, and you all but scurry out of the kitchen, hot on his heels and bursting with energy. Needless to say, the house is spotless by the end of the day, your assigned chores crossed off at record speed.
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can you tell i love domestic kento
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sparkplug02 · 3 days
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My take on the Final Fifteen
To Aziraphale, I don’t think the choice was “stay with Crowley on Earth” or “leave Crowley for Heaven.” I think the choice was “go to Heaven with Crowley” or “go to Heaven without Crowley.” In other words,
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“No” wasn’t an option (to Aziraphale) (gif is not mine).
From the coffee shop scene where the Metatron orders coffee from Nina:
Metatron: “Do people ever ask for death?”
Nina: “What?”
Metatron: “The name of your establishment, ‘Give me coffee or give me death’ - I assume they always ask for coffee?”
Nina: “They don’t ever ask for death, no.”
Metatron: “I don’t suppose they do. So predictable.”
Death isn’t an option. “No” isn’t an option. Not to Aziraphale, who goes along with Heaven as best he can.
With Job, there was wiggle room to bend the rules and interpret things in Job’s behavior. Aziraphale lied but he didn’t outright refuse anyone. Technically, Crowley was the one who made the trick happen. Aziraphale only affirmed it.
During the Final Fifteen, Aziraphale had effectively just started a war. To quote Crowley, “Heaven won’t like that.” Then Voice of God personally came down and, rather than issuing a punishment for using his halo, the Metatron told Aziraphale he would be the new Supreme Archangel.
If God (or God’s voice) says so, then it must be. Aziraphale IS the new Supreme Archangel. The Supreme Archangel must reside in Heaven, so Aziraphale will go to Heaven. For an angel, there is no choice in that. I doubt it crosses Aziraphale’s mind that refusal mighty be an option. There is no option.
Aziraphale’s time on Earth is up. Maybe that is how he sees it. Nothing lasts forever, and he has to go. I doubt he wants to go alone though.
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(gif still not mine)
If Crowley came with him, that would make Heaven more bearable. Making Crowley into an angel again might not be an “I can fix you” but a “this is the only way we can stay together.” It is not within Aziraphale’s new jurisdiction to refuse the call of the Lord, but it is within his jurisdiction to give a call of his own. I doubt any angel has the power to make a demon an angel again, so the Metatron was probably banking on the fact that Crowley doesn’t trust Heaven and would never willingly return there, but I also doubt Aziraphale knew that.
If you approach this from a perspective of no alternative, no choice for Aziraphale to stay or leave, only the choice for Crowley to join him or stay behind, then the response to “tell me you said no” was a very honest and genuine “I couldn’t.” Not because Aziraphale values Heaven over Crowley, but because he has no choice in the matter. He IS going to Heaven. He doesn’t see a way out of that.
Of course, Crowley does, and why wouldn’t he? He makes his ‘too late’ love confession, and when that doesn’t work outright, he tries to convince Aziraphale that he has a choice, that he can refuse, that he should refuse, that he ought to refuse.
One of the things I learned in a public speaking class (shoutout to Donna) is that if you’re trying to persuade someone, you can’t expect to get them to swing from one extreme to another. You have to know where your audience stands on the issue and aim to move them one, maybe two degrees towards your side at a time. If you want to change someone’s mind the easy way (talking to them instead of forcing them through an experience that changes their perspective), you have to go slow and steady. If you try to argue someone from one extreme to another, then all you’re likely to do is push them even further away from the stance you want them to take.
This was not a slow and steady persuasion. This was a last-ditch attempt at a long shot. Aziraphale had just started to separate himself from Heaven, enough that he stopped Armageddon with Crowley, but he wasn’t completely detached from them. They still sent Muriel to watch him, which implies that he’s still under Heaven’s control, even if he has gone rogue.
Aziraphale doesn’t see staying behind as an option. He cannot do it, it will not happen. He spends all that time trying to convince Crowley to come with him because that it is the only thing that will make this inevitable future bearable. He must go to Heaven, he will go to Heaven. When Crowley asks him if he said no, he doesn’t respond because this isn’t something he can say no to. It doesn’t occur to him, and he doesn’t consider any possibility…
…until Crowley kisses him.
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This is only one example. He keeps turning around, keeps looking back. THAT is one step in the right direction. THAT was enough to make him hesitate, to wonder if maybe he could choose not to go to Heaven and that maybe he should. One fabulous kiss and now, all of a sudden, he’s second-guessing himself.
He still goes, but in the elevator, the Metatron tells Aziraphale about the Second Coming. Crowley figured this out earlier, and Aziraphale knows it now. That final look? Well, they both know how Crowley thinks the Big One will end. Heaven and Hell against Humanity.
In order for Crowley to succeed at stopping the Second Coming, Aziraphale would have had to stay with him. In order for Aziraphale to succeed at thwarting the Second Coming, Crowley would have had to come with him. They probably both feel like the other is abandoning them in their greatest time of need.
Here’s the thing, though: Aziraphale may be Supreme Archangel now, but he was Guardian of the Eastern Gate first and foremost. Aziraphale might stand by and watch Heaven and Hell fight, but the second Heaven turns against Humanity, ohhhhhh it’s over. He was only willing to kill Adam because he thought the rest of Humanity’s survival depended on it. He knows humans kill each other and die all the time, but the last time he’s watched a holy or unholy being kill people was the Flood, and that was God Herself doing it. If his captors fellow angels start killing humans as collateral for the Second Coming, then that will knock him over the edge.
And Heaven doesn’t want that. The Metatron gets Aziraphale in line before the Second Coming starts. If Aziraphale and Crowley team up (you know, the angel and demon who tried to subtly perform a double-half-miracle and instead produced a 25 Lazari smoke signal), it’s over. The day Heaven loses their grip on Aziraphale is the day Heaven loses.
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I think Crowley’s kiss worked better than he thinks it did. It made Aziraphale doubt, and it walked him one step closer to turning around. Aziraphale’s protective Principality nature will take care of the rest, and as soon as Aziraphale realizes he has a choice, we all know the choice he will make. Crowley is an optimist. He’ll be there when Aziraphale figured it out.
He’ll be pissed off, but he’ll be there. They both will. Crowley is still on Their Side. My guess is that Aziraphale will go radio silent for an episode or so before he sabotages Heaven so bad that the only way they can recover is by teaming up with Hell. The second Crowley sees Heaven’s plan going up in flames, he’ll know his angel is behind it. He’ll know Aziraphale is on Their Side again.
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scarlethexelove · 17 hours
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can you please write Y/N and Wanda also Natasha is not dead here (up to you thooooo) , and Y/N pretty much replaced Vision. But before these events Natasha has always been there for Wanda, (after Endgame) so she didn’t make a hex but still griefed about Y/N and Wanda making a big move for Y/N’s reincarnation but in a good way. After Y/N being back from the dead. She learns that her soon to be wife has already fallen for Natasha and her reincarnation just meant nothing and Y/N didn’t go on with her life and ended it just there.
Wands regretted everything until she lost herself and made a big mess with the universe (pretty much MoM) and overall Wanda regretting everything, and when she gets us back (it can be Wanda taking another one of us in an another universe) or her just making us alive from the dead *this all can be up to you author*
I love your stories 🖤
I'm Sorry
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Pairings: Wanda Maximoff x Reader
Word Count: 3590
Warnings: Cheating (Allusions to it but really it is there), Angst, Major character death, Mentions of Murdering innocent people, Angry Wanda, Suicide by others, Not really a happy ending, tiny bit of fluff like very little.
A/n: This one was fun. I hope I did it justice. I may have changed a little bit of it but I hope you still like it.
NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN
Everything hurts. You have a splitting headache and it feels like you got run over by a MACK truck. Your face scrunches up in pain, the lights too bright even with your eyes closed. Sensory overload has you curling in on yourself. Hands come up to clamp on your ears when you hear a voice, but it’s so loud and muffled that you don’t even know who is talking to you. All you want is for all of it to stop. You had been an experiment but that experience doesn’t compare to what you are feeling right now. 
“Nat turn the lights off.” Wanda orders the older woman in the room. Nat flicks the light off as she watches Wanda brush some hairs back. You let out a whimper at the contact. It breaks her heart seeing you like this. When her hand brushes against your skin she can feel you. She feels your pain. Red whisps leave her fingers slowly seeping into your skin. Soon enough the pain starts to dissipate. 
Wanda crawls in the bed behind you wrapping herself around your frame. You feel a body pressed against yours and you immediately know who it is. “Wanda.” You whisper. You turn around in her hold and nuzzle into her neck. “I’m here sweetheart.” Wanda combs her fingers through your hair. You're so tired and she feels like home. You fight to stay awake but her ministrations have your eyes closing. “It’s ok detka get some rest.” Wanda whispers and kisses the top of your head. You finally let yourself drift off to sleep. 
A little over 5 years ago the team was fighting Thanos. Your powers let you see brief points into the future. You saw that if you died that Wanda would be safe. Thanos needed you gone to get what he wants but you also saw that in the end the Avengers would win. The event that sets that in motion was your death. So as much as it pained you you let it happen. To save Wanda, to save the world. Wanda could move on but the fate of the universe was in your hands. 
“Wanda.” Nat says softly from the corner of the room. She looks at you curled into Wanda’s arms. A sight she had hoped to never see again. “Natty, she needs this.” Wanda says softly, still stroking your hair as you sleep. Nat just nods. It hurts but she knows it is something that Wanda had to do. 
Your mind races. Your dreams are of your last memories. The fight with Thanos and how you let him kill you just in order to save everyone else. Your body shoots straight up as your chest heaves from the memories. You feel a hand rubbing up and down your back but you haven’t quite gained control. You mind questioning how you are here. Why are you alive? You should be dead. That was all your mind could see and you had accepted that fact but here you are. Tears stream down your face. “Why?” You're not sure what you are asking, who you are asking the question of. You feel so small. “Why what detka?” Wanda asks you with concern on her face. “Why am I here? I should be dead.” Your voice breaks and Wanda’s heart hurts seeing you like this. 
Wanda starts explaining everything that had happened while you were gone. Excluding some details. They had worked tirelessly to bring back those that were snapped away. Wanda and Nat become the de facto leaders of the Avengers. It took 5 years but they finally did. Once that was done they set out to bring you back. It took some time but somehow when Bruce had snapped his fingers he was able to bring you back. But somehow you ended up in a pocket universe in a deep sleep. They were finally able to get you back safely. All the information flooding into your mind is a lot to handle but eventually you understand. Somehow the universe had different plans for you. 
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It’s been a few months since you came back. Most things are the same but something seems off. Wanda hasn’t been as loving towards you. Before she was always so touchy and wanting nothing more than to crawl under the sheets cuddling while watching some sitcoms. But now she barely even gives you a hug. Sleeping in the same bed has you feeling like she isn’t even there. She is a million miles away even if she is only right beside you. Your heart hurts not understanding, is she still mad at you for letting Thanos kill you. Anytime you try to talk to her she just brushes you off and says nothing is wrong. So you're left alone to your thoughts and worries.
Nat had moved into your shared home while you were away. The two women grew closer at the loss of so many others. You want to be angry and jealous that Nat gets more attention than you but you still trust Wanda hoping that she will come around eventually. 
You’re walking towards the kitchen when you can hear a hushed discussion between Wanda and Nat. You stop just shy of the door frame listening in when you hear your name mentioned. “Wanda you need to tell Y/n.” Nat says her body leaning on the counter and arms crossed against her chest. “Tell her what Nat?” Wanda counters. She sits at the table with a sad look adorning her face. “You know what Wands.” Wanda lets out a sigh. “I can’t do that to her Nat.” Wanda’s voice is low. “You can’t keep lying to her. You can’t keep lying to me. I love you Wanda.” There is a pause in the conversation before Wanda speaks up. “I love you too.” Your heart drops the moment the words spill from Wanda’s mouth. 
You’re quick to turn on your heels as the tears start to stream down your face. Holding in a sob as it all makes sense now. In your absence the two had fallen in love. You’ve somehow become the other woman in Wanda’s life. You don’t know how you didn’t see this coming. Your powers should have felt this but they hadn’t and now you’re left heartbroken. You push into your shared room focusing on pulling yourself back together. You can’t let them know that you know until you figure out what to do. 
The buzzing of your phone pulls you out of your despair for the moment. You see Fury’s name flash on the screen. You quickly wipe your tears and answer the phone. “Sir.” You say masking the waver in your voice. “Y/l/n I have a mission for you. Since you have been cleared for duty I would like you to head out tonight with Barton and Barnes. I have sent over the reports for you to go over. Good luck out there and glad to have you back.” The phone line goes dead as the man hangs up the phone. You open the report sent to your phone. You now see the flashes in your mind of how the mission will go. And that is where you see it. What you’re going to do. 
That night you enter the Quinjet greeted by the two men. Hugs and joy at your return. Your powers are always a significant help to missions. You three go over the plans for the mission. You lay out what you had seen in your vision, excluding one crucial part that the men don’t need to know. You know if they did they would try and stop you. But your heart aches and you put on a fake smile so that no one would expect a thing. 
Everything was set to go. A long message meant to play for Wanda after it was already too late. This would be your last mission. Wanda and Nat would have all that they could ever want. You wouldn’t be the burden that you know you are. They should have just left you dead if they were going to do this to you. So you made that decision for them. You weren’t going to come back from this mission alive. 
The mission was going perfectly. Playing out exactly as you had seen it. Bucky and Clint were together and far away from you. You snuck into the building off the side. It held some hostages that had been taken by Hydra. You snuck in taking out every agent that you passed. It didn’t take long for you to make it to the hostages. You were able to release them from their binds and get them out of the building safely. But you knew it wasn’t over yet. Bucky and Clint were waiting exactly where you told them too. Having each hostage run towards them for safety while you stood with your back towards the open area. 
You waited knowing what was to come soon. You could change the outcome but you didn’t want to. You didn’t want to be in a world where Wanda loved someone else. You waited with bated breath as the last hostage ran towards your teammates. You exhale the air in your lungs before a sharp pain in your stomach is felt. You grit your teeth turning around firing off a few rounds, but you're hit with another round to the shoulder. You can hear the muffled sounds of Bucky and Clint calling out for you but you push through. Another shot to the leg sends you kneeling on the ground. You push through the pain as you stand. A few steps forward as you unload your mag into the man. Another man appears with his finger on the trigger of his gun. You watch as an arrow sores through the air and hits the man directly in the chest. His finger squeezes the trigger as he falls. You’re hit with the array of bullets. Your body sways before falling to your knees then falling to the ground. The ground below you stains red as your body goes cold. 
Wanda felt a change in the universe. She cries out causing Nat to panic next to her. Wanda clutches her chest in pain. She felt this twice before. Once when Pietro died, the second when you died fighting Thanos. She had never wanted to feel that pain again but here she is feeling it. The world stops turning at that moment. Not again she thinks tears streaming down her face. 
The doorbell rings but Wanda doesn’t hear it. Nat tries to console the younger woman pleading for her to tell her what is going on. It continues to ring when no one answers until Nat gets up and finds out what is going on. Wanda sits sobbing on the couch. Nat walks back in with a folded paper with your hand writing on it. Wanda scribbled on the top. 
Wanda sees this snatching the paper from her hands and quickly opening it before reading the words delicately written across the page. 
My dearest Wanda,
You’re reading this because I’m gone. I’m sorry to do this to you
but I can’t live life like this. I know that you no longer love me.
I see the way you look at Natasha and I know she is now
the love of your life. I want you to be happy. I saw this coming
and I could have changed it but who am I to keep you from the 
one you love. Don’t mourn for me, just live your life. You don’t
have to worry about me anymore and you can be happy, that 
is all I have ever wanted for you. But my love I can’t live in
a world where you love someone else. So this is goodbye.
Love,
Y/N
Tears hit the paper blurring the words in front of her. Wanda’s heart shatters into a million pieces. How could this have happened? How could she have thrown away all that you two have? She is absolutely disgusted with herself and with Nat. This isn’t how it was supposed to go but she was blinded and now her eyes are finally open but now it could be too late.
Through the tears Wanda gets up making her way out the door and immediately taking off towards the compound. Her magic lifts her into the sky as she flies as fast as she possibly can to the one place she knows you would be. Praying that maybe it was all wrong, maybe you can be saved. Nat calls out for her as she leaves her alone standing in the yard. 
The ground cracks below Wanda’s feet as she lands hard on the ground. Anger and guilt pumping through her veins as she walks towards the building. Her magic slamming doors open as she makes her way to the med bay. Your body is already lying there. Bucky and Clint talking outside the room. Windows lining the wall as they keep looking back at your body. Wondering what they would tell the angry redhead but they didn’t have to wait too long. They spot Wanda fear and sorrow on their faces. “Wanda we can -” Clint is cut off. “Save it.” 
Wanda makes her way into the room. The boys walked away looking like kicked puppies. Wanda’s breath picks up as she sees your still body encased in a black bag. The top half of it unzipped revealing your pale skin and blood staining your suit. You look so peaceful like you could be sleeping. Wanda cups your cheek, a light jerk of her hand when she feels how cold you are. She lets her magic slip out the ends of her fingers going into your head. Fresh tears streaming down her face. “I can’t feel you.” A sob wracking her body. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry love you never deserved any of this.”
Wanda silently sobs as she sits next to you. Your hand in hers as she just stares blankly at your body. The door clicks open a while later. Wanda doesn’t turn to look. “Go away.” Her voice is hoarse from all the crying but she doesn’t care. “Wands.” Nat whispers. “I said leave.” Wanda’s voice raises as her head snaps towards the door red swirling in her eyes. Nat knows she is just upset so she doesn’t back down. “Detka.” She whispers. “Don’t you dare detka me.” Wanda stands letting your hand drop off the side of the bed. “This is all your fault. She is fucking dead because of you.” Wanda seethes. “Don’t put that blame on me Wanda. You're just as much the problem.” Wanda stalks towards Nat red surrounding her body and slamming her into the window, a crack forming behind her body. “Don’t you fucking dare blame me. It should have been you. You should have died back then. I would still have her. She is more of a woman than you will ever be. I let myself be blinded by you. Blinded by the love you gave but I didn’t love you. I don’t fucking love you.” As hard as Nat can be, Wanda's words cut deep. Tears shine in her eyes as she holds back a sob. Wanda sends Nat’s body flying through walls until she lands outside. Wanda follows as she does so. Releasing Nat’s body which is now battered and bruised. She then flies off into the night. 
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It’s been months since anyone has seen Wanda, held up in a small cabin in the middle of nowhere surrounded by mountains. Some have tried but they always get blasted out so they stopped trying. She has been lost to the Avengers and they aren’t sure they could ever get her back. The day they lost you they also lost her. 
Wanda’s black tipped fingers comb through a book. A very dangerous book. The more she searches the darkness in her soul grows and the blacked tips grow. She has tried everything in the book to bring you back to life but none of it works. She had another attempt today, something new, something hopeful but it ends with a magical outburst throwing everything in the cabin. She continues to comb through the pages ignoring the disarray around her. She closes her eyes and lets her magic do the work. It’s not long before she finds something new. She thought she had seen all that this book had to offer. All that the Darkhold had to offer to the Scarlet Witch. 
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You are sitting in your living room, two small boys cuddled into each of your sides as you watch a movie. Empty bowls of ice cream sitting on the coffee table that you have your feet propped up on. You laugh as your son Tommy tries to mimic you. You other son Billy giggling along. Tommy huffs and crosses his arms. “Not funny.” He mumbles. You can’t help but ruffle his hair which makes him swat at your hand causing you to chuckle. “One day buddy you will reach it.” You kiss the top of his head. All of you falling back into the silence, the only sound is the movie playing. 
Your mind flashes to a vision of Wanda but not your Wanda standing in the middle of your living room. Her face twisted into something you can’t even imagine in your wildest dreams from the woman you loved. The pain that she has caused to get to this point. As your world comes back to you you are met with a star shaped portal in the middle of your living room. What was once an image in your head now in front of you. 
Wanda’s hand wraps around the young girl's throat in front of you. “What did you do?” She seethes. The two boys next to you are terrified. You quickly stand and tell them to run but Wanda’s head snaps towards you. The couch you were once on is now thrown at the stairs blocking the way. You push your boys behind you in a protective manner. Wanda’s eyes trailing the boys curiously, a small warm spot forming in her heart seeing your protective nature. She didn’t expect to find you with kids but she always wanted a family with you so it can’t hurt. 
“Wanda!” You yell at her. Wanda is startled by the anger in your voice. You have never yelled at her like that. “Let the girl go.” You demand of her. Her hand slips from the girl's neck as she coughs on the ground holding her throat. Wanda starts stalking towards you but you back up with your boys behind you. 
Billy tugs on your shirt a little trying to get your attention and you quickly look back at him. “Is that Mama?” His voice sounds so small. Your attention quickly turns back to the woman in front of you who has stopped. You can see tears in her eyes at Billy’s words. “That is not your Mama.” You shake your head. You can see the hurt on Wanda’s face as she gets closer to you. “I can be.” She says a crack in her voice. 
You start to walk towards the woman but your boys try to stop you. You motion that you will be ok as you stand in front of Wanda. “You could never be my Wanda.” She falls to her knees, her hand on her chest as she looks up at you. “I can see your hurt and your pain but you have caused so much more and for what.” Tears rolled down her cheeks. “I did it for you.” She whispers. “I would never want you to do this for me. Wanda you murdered people. Good people.” Wanda stands back up and moves towards you, her hand reaching out to cup your cheek. You back up away from her touch. “I wanted you back.” You scoff and shake your head. “After seeing what you did I could never want you. I miss my Wanda but you are not her and could never be.” 
Wanda’s face twists in anger. You try to back up again but she is quicker this time. She grabs your wrist in her hands. “Wanda that hurts.” You whimper as she digs her nails in. “Too bad. I’ll make you love me just you see. Now that I have you back I will never let you go again.” There is a panic that rises in you. “We will have the perfect little family.” She looks behind you. “Won’t we boys?” They are too scared to say or do anything just holding onto each other for comfort. 
Wanda keeps one hand on you as she turns around. Her wrist flicking as America is thrown back through the portal. It dissipates from the middle of the room before she turns back to you. You struggle to get free but she is stronger than you remember. She clicks her tongue and looks at you, her hand finally reaching to cup your cheek. Red whisps leave her fingers as they sink into your mind. “All mine now.” She replaces every memory and thought of your Wanda with her. Changes the fear to love. You’re hers now and no one will change that. Her magic soon flowed into the boys having the perfect little family. She would tear the world in two to keep you and the boys forever. 
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fuckmyskywalker · 10 hours
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𝐇𝐢𝐭𝐦𝐚𝐧!𝐀𝐧𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 - 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐈: 𝐌𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐬.
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Summary: A week of chaos. From the end to the very beginning. You find yourself in the darkness, remembering how the light touched your skin first. When you fly too close to the sun...
CW: 18+. dead dove do not eat, non-con, gun play, knife play, knife riding, death threats, dirty talk, dark content. | word count: 3.3k
a/n: Hope you enjoy it! DNI if you don't like the topics listed and DNI if you are a minor. Happy riding!
Hitman!Anakin series.
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"𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘮𝘦 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘢 𝘴𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘱𝘪𝘦𝘤𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘦𝘳𝘤𝘺."
Sunday. 16th.
Comically, he could argue with any soul that crossed the empty streets that life doesn’t have a price. He could laugh at the soft-spoken, naive answer of self-value, laced with the dumb kindness of human nature. Humans are kind by nature, or that’s what idealists say; what— a sane person, he thinks— would say is that humans are selfish by nature, the realistic approach.
Since the start of times, the number two has been sacred. There are two worlds to join in the afterlife: Heaven and hell. Two deities to recognize: God and the Devil. Two spectrums: Good and bad. Two cycles: Day and night… and two options: To kill, or get killed. 
It could also be described as a constant phrase he learned while growing up: “The strong one will eat the weak one”, eight words haunting him like the plague, following him and patting his shoulder at every failure, and congratulating him at every success. Strength equals power, money equals power, intelligence equals power… but can a man have it all without losing his mind? Or perhaps he is just getting philosophical when he shouldn’t. Unlocking the windows with ease as his mind races with the never-ending turmoil of an unfair life, edging him to do unfair jobs, and win dirty money. 
Although Anakin Skywalker has learned that some hot dish soap helps clean the blood stains over dollar signs.
Twisting the knife— an anxious habit— Anakin stands beside your bed, watching your immobile boy. There’s a soft smile plastered on your face, you must be having a nice dream… too bad it won’t last long. Leaning down, the tip of the knife dances over your neck, careful— careful. Not yet. Those aren’t his instructions. Although his boss never specified the in-betweens. 
His lips ghost over the shell of your ear, raising goosebumps in your slumber. Your skin is aware of the intruder, the instincts kicking in. “Hey,” His voice is barely audible, but his warm breath sends a jolt of adrenaline like a lethal injection directly into your veins. “Wake up.”
Your eyes shoot open, body jolting forward only to be pushed back by the knife against your throat and his gloved hand over your face. There’s no need to use brutal force, it’s easy to fuel your fear; blue eyes staring into yours through the holes of the black ski mask. He can tell you are shaking— in fact, he can see it. 
“Don’t move, don’t try to scream. If you do, I’ll slice your throat from ear to ear. Smiley face, that’s why I like to call that,” He chuckles when he sees you shivering. Oh, to be the strong one grants him with a power that makes him feel alive. Who cares about repercussions when simple acts and sighs like your tears make him feel immortal? “Do I make myself clear?”
You nod weakly. Every fiber of your being is yelling at you to run, to push him and throw him everything within your reach but you can’t move. Your body is paralyzed and for the first time in your privileged life, you realize something frightening. When he pulls back and lets go of you, the loud exhale that escapes your lungs pleasures him even further. Good. Everything is going according to plan.
It doesn’t matter how much money you have. You can die just like anyone else. 
“See, I can imagine you already know why I am here,” Anakin continues, chuckling when you shake your head. “No? Uh, I thought you’d be smarter. Well, I guess money can’t buy intelligence.”
Your eyes flicker to his wrist, watching him twist the knife. At least he isn’t all over you. How can a human be so calm while toying with another’s future? As if it wasn’t a delicate situation, as if money was everything in the world— pathetic. 
Stuttering, you run toward the only option your brain knows. “I’ll d–double the price. I’ll triple it,” Your legs move, hanging them on the edge of your tall bed. Anakin arches an eyebrow, he could’ve killed you for moving. Yet, he is somewhat interested in your offer. “I can pay much more than whoever hired you.”
“Oh, really?” Anakin laughs. It’s a cold, bitter laugh. There is no humor in it. Only cruelty. “And what makes you think money was the only thing I got paid with?”
“Who hired you?”
He laughs again. It has been seconds since you heard him laugh for the first time and you loathe the sound already. “That’s for me to know and for you to find out, darling. Or maybe I’m lying. Maybe it’s just like the movies and I get a mystery envelope with money and your name. Would that make you feel better?”
He is definitely mocking you, which normally would raise your anger and bring out the worst in you— right now it seems like a bad choice. Anakin can’t blame you for questioning, every victim does, sometimes he grants them their wish— when they aren’t that important— sometimes he just does the job, hoping they die with their doubts as their last thought. Your life's on the line, it must be the first time someone has pierced your little bubble… so yeah, he can’t blame you. 
“Please don’t kill me, I’ll… I’ll do anything.”
There it is. Classic. His favorite words. Anything means anything. Everything is fair in love and war— everything is fair at gunpoint. “Anything?’ He repeats. “It’s not like I haven’t heard that one before.” His sarcastic tone flies over your head. You cannot pay attention to anything else besides the ringing in your eardrums and the palpitations of your heart. 
Anakin finds great joy in fueling the terror in your soul. It is something he wasn’t exactly born with— or at least, during his loneliest nights, buried in alcohol and money, surrounded by his guns and his ghosts. He isn’t afraid of them, they can’t hurt him. 
“Anything,” You confirm, lip wobbling and tears streaming down your cheeks. His task was awfully simple, yet, there is something he must do first now that he sees you more clearly. Anakin doesn't have the pleasure to witness such a pretty downfall often.
In a swift move, Anakin lifts the knife over his head, smirking wider when you raise your hands in a pitiful attempt at self-defense. Expectant, you sob one last time before the pain comes, before the burning sensation of piercing skin and crimson blood. 
Which never arrives. 
The sharp blade pierces through the sheets and the mattress. Ripping the stitches and creating the most awful sound you have ever heard in your life. That could’ve been your face. Did he miss his shot? Is his aim that bad? Your vision is blurry due to the thick coat of tears, crystal clear and salty that trickle down like tiny diamonds. 
“Money is not enough this time, sweetheart,” He coos at you, cupping your cheek and brushing your tears in a fake act of kindness. His pursed lips make your stomach twist. You never thought there’d be fates worse than death… but here you are. “I won’t kill you—” His words make your shoulder fall for a second as a smile dances on your chapped lips like the weak swing of a butterfly’s wings. “Yet.”
“What do you want from me?” You sob, placing your hands on your lap, not sure what to do with them. You are in no position to fight. You are under the mercy of a clear psychopath. Someone without morals, without ethics and values— under the claws of a monster. 
The worst part? You don’t even know who is pulling the strings tied over the monster’s claws. 
“Don’t be sad, sweetheart. I’m sure you will find it amusing— and if you don’t I don’t care,” If you weren’t begging for your life, his voice could’ve been attractive. Even his eyes. His fucking eyes that seem to pierce your soul. “You see that handle?” He points at the knife with his chin. “I want you to lift your cute nightgown and ride it. You can close your eyes and imagine a cock, I’m sure you’ve done it before from what I’ve heard about you. If I like the show, I’ll let you ride my cock— and if I don’t like it. I’ll kill you.”
“You cannot possibly ask me to—”
A small squeal escapes your lips when the muzzle of a gun comes in contact with your temple. The steel is frigid against your burning skin. There are no words left in your throat, if you weren’t terrified you would’ve thrown up. 
“You don’t like to think, you don’t like to listen— I’m starting to believe you are actually stupid, princess. You either fuck that knife or die.” Your whimper. Irritating. Infuriating. Fucking lovely. 
Lifting your hips from the bed, you kneel with the little strength you have left. Anakin never removes the gun from your temple, in reality, he presses it further, watching your skin dent slightly. Lifting your sheer nightgown, you clumsily hook your finger at the waistband of your panties, tugging them down with embarrassment.
“Please don’t make me do this,” You beg, losing balance momentarily as your panties hang from your ankle. 
There is a storm echoing in his laugh. Like pouring rain falling over your heart before it even reaches your ears. “If you don’t do it, I’ll force you. I will enjoy it more… and then you’ll die.”
The flat tip of the blade handle feels like steel against your folds. The touch is feathery light, perhaps unintentionally gentle. You are glad there is a thick leather wrapped around it— otherwise, it might hurt even more. 
Rocking your hips slowly, you close your eyes focusing on anything else. You will not enjoy this. You refuse to give him pleasure. If this is the way you die— at least you want to imagine you put up some kind of fight. Despite your constant thoughts— foolishly thinking your mind is stronger than your body— when the handle comes in contact with your clit, your body instinctively jolts. You stop. You don’t talk. 
You don’t want to die. You don’t want to die, and you don’t want to enjoy it.
“Spread your legs wider and don’t stop moving. Don’t make me go there and open them myself,” His voice is low. “Show me how much you don’t want this.” His voice mixed with the adrenaline brings you to a borderline dizzy state. 
Resuming your movements, you bite the inner part of your cheek, flinching when his free hand cups your breast. “See? Is not that difficult to obey. I know you are so used to getting your way, little princess. But not this time. Not with me.”
His thumb traces your nipple poking through the silk. You hate yourself for this— even more when you find a steady rhythm. Your clit grinds against the flat top and throbs, quickly begging for more. Hooking the barrel underneath the thin straps of your nightgown, Anakin lets them fall, exposing your chest. 
“Don’t come. If you do, your tiny brains will make a bloody mess over your lovely canopy and walls. Now fucking ride it.”
The leather glistens with your arousal. It’s pathetic, humiliating, miserable. When you position yourself above it, when you flex your knees to fit it— that’s when everything you are— breaks. 
The handle stretches your walls in a way that couldn’t be more uncomfortable. Your arousal helps but only much. Unhurriedly, you begin to ride it just like he commanded you to, just like you have to. Your pussy clenches around it, you can’t even fool yourself and think it is a dick. Nothing could help you now. No one can save you now.
“Seems to be you can listen sometimes…” Anakin observes, removing the gun from your skull to press it against the valley of your breasts. “Don’t think I can’t see how wet you are. Are you that deranged you are enjoying this?”
Are you?
Is he?
You just have to do this. Right?
Too many questions, no answers. 
“Faster.”
Increasing your pace, the tears make themselves known again. You are enjoying it. Your walls are dripping, your pussy is begging for more. The slick sticks to the leather like a second layer of shine, the sounds your body is making are against your will— but you can’t stop moving. Anakin breathes loudly, his own excitement evident. You cannot see the outline of his erection underneath his black cargo pants but he feels it, throbbing, leaking, eager to bury itself in you. Hear you sob and feel you clench after every cry.
“So fucking wet,” He mumbles, pressing his lips against your sweaty neck. The soft cotton of his ski mask brushes over your skin, bringing you a nasty comfort. “Remember, if you come… you die.”
The muzzle now dances over your nipple, distracting you from the burn in your lower stomach for a second— when his hand finds your clit. Circling it quickly, roughly, Anakin exhales again right in your ear. 
“I can’t wait to fuck you. I hope you are ready to die while I bury my cock inside you.”
A loud moan, mixed with a throat-ripping wail falls down your lips, body writhing and hips trashing. The handle is as deep as it can go, and before your vision goes white you feel the gun poking underneath your chin. Your hands curl around the hem of the nightgown you are still lifting, almost piercing the expensive and delicate fabric. Your orgasm is strong, it clouds your senses and for a moment the euphoria makes you forget how you just marked your destiny. The handle is sticky just like your thighs. The world is spinning.
Your life is ruined.
Just as your vision goes white, it goes black.
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Monday. 10th.
Politics are known to be comparable to walking on thin ice. One false step and you sink— all the way to the cold and lonely bottom. Made only for the ones who can twist and turn others under their will and for those who aren’t scared of the nerve-wracking possibility of being a hero or a villain. 
When your father offers you the vacancy for Campaign Manager you don’t hesitate to take the opportunity. Daddy dearest always serves opportunities such as these on a silver platter. Why would you refuse? Sure, a week before the presidential elections might be signing a death sentence, but why would you care? Even if you fall, your safety net is insured, secured and endorsed. 
“Are you sure you can do this alone?” Natasha Andrews, your father’s assistant lowers her clipboard, focusing her dirty blue eyes on you from beneath her thin-gramme glasses. “We have a week before the election, these last days are crucial.”
“I’ll be fine!” You answer confidently. To have such confidence and naivety that being young gives you. You just feel invincible. “I read some of John’s final projects. A few venues and bookings won’t scare me.”
“I don’t think you are seeing the big picture here,” Natasha calls your name patiently. Removing her glasses, folding them and placing them next to her clipboard, you can already imagine a boring lecture about responsibility. You’ll be fine! “Your father has an image to maintain, a reputation to hold and the statistics are growing in his favor. This last week is to secure the win. Your father chose you for a reason.” Another way to say ‘There are high expectations. You better fulfill them.’
Huffing, you take her words as a weak attempt at an insult. You understand the big picture. You’ve been surrounded by the big picture since you can remember. “Why are you looking at me like that?” 
Natasha runs a hand through her ginger locks, taking a deep breath. She’s too old to deal with all this. “Look. I know you are young and I’m sure you have wonderful ideas for the campaign, but our time is limited. We can only continue with the schedule and hope for the best. If your ideas can be incorporated into the events then you are more than welcome.”
Always used to getting your way, you find baffling how someone who doesn’t know can defy you— or in your eyes, Natasha is doubting your capacities. Standing up, you point at her. Your manicured nail, painted a crimson red holds an almost accusatory tone. You don’t have to prove anything to anyone— not even your father. There is no chance of failure, because when you are young… you are on top of the world.
“No, you look. I know you are worried but I can do this,” You reply, not bothering to hide the patronizing tone in your voice. “My father knows I’m more than capable. You may not know me but you will. If I want to change the date of a venue, or if I want to make a goddamned pool party we will. I know what’s best, I know what will work.”
Natasha raises an eyebrow at your words, her expression hardening slightly. “I never doubted your… abilities, Miss. We have a schedule we must follow. Nothing personal. It is your first day in your position. Can you even name three key supporters of Jonathan's campaign? Have you planned a meeting with potential donors for when your father wins the elections?”
The assistant has a point, but you won’t give up. You will never lose a fight. 
“Easy, everything you say is too easy,” You narrow your eyes, placing both palms on the desk to hide how they shake from frustration. “If I say the word, my father will fire you. It doesn’t matter how long you have been working with him. I’m his daughter.”
That’s your wild card.
And as usual, it works. 
Sighing through gritted teeth, Natasha rubs her temple. How can an educated girl like yourself be such a despicable person? “Go on.” 
The smile that brightens your face beams like flames. Threatening to consume everything on its way. Everything is easy when you have the influence. You were born with it, what’s wrong with using it? “Alright… key supporters….”
The redhead scribbles down as you talk, from all you know she is playing hangman with your face on the stick figure, not that you care, of course. Your mood heightens as she just listens and comments on trivial things such as locations and schemes. You knew it would be easy. You just need people that follow you. 
“We can do the last meet-and-greet at Cafe Serenity. My father invested in the project and the owner owes him that. I’m sure if we present the petition he will accept,” You talk, tangling the wires inside your head. “I can schedule an interview with Channel 7, Global News Network, and Insider Globe, they do most of the coverage during the elections and my father knows the actionist in GNN…”
“The meet-and-greet sounds good. It’s the perfect strategy to calculate the supporters Jonathan has. Plus the media coverage will be wonderful,” Her jaw clenches as she talks, but you are too busy staring at your nails to see the daggers coming from her eyes. “You’ve got a good grasp on this.”
“I know,” You smile, ignoring the fake smile. 
Suddenly, your phone rings. It’s an unknown number. A frown etches on your face as you pick it up. Excusing yourself from the table, Natasha nods, her blue orbs gluing to your back; if looks could kill…
Closing the door of the meeting room behind you, you bring the phone closer to your ear. “Hello? Who is this?” 
Silence.
“Hello?”
A feminine voice breaks the silence. The unknown woman calls your name and your heart stops momentarily. It sounds vaguely familiar, and it carries a heavy accent that you can’t pinpoint from where. 
“Lisseth? Is that you?” Your chirp echoes through the empty hallway. “I can’t believe you are back!”
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Thank you for reading! ✩
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daydreamalley · 1 day
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A Ramble about Phase 19 of the Fifteen Manga Ft. Storm Bringer spoilers
Just absolutely cannot get over the 15 manga. I love the light novel so much, but this manga adaptation is so ridiculously amazing. Dazai and Chuuya’s proximity/touching has been amazing of course. I adore the way Hoshikawa draws Dazai and Chuuya as well (my baby boys, especially Chuuya). But these last two chapters with Rimbaud and Verlaine. Like, fuck. The whole “At least, one of them felt that way,” part just hits so much harder in the manga for me, with the art and page placement. And this whole most recent chapter. Like firstly, you don’t have to end every chapter with like Chuuya getting stabbed okay, help me out here.
Comparing the last page of phase 18 with Verlaine and the first page of phase 19 with Chuuya makes it so obvious that Rimbaud is seeing the similarities between them with just that parallel, which is confirmed later with Rimbaud quite literally seeing Verlaine standing behind Chuuya. 
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Not to mention in phase 18 the “That’s right Paul, I remember you,” in conjunction with him seeing Verlaine in Chuuya.
Then that flashback with Verlaine carrying Chuuya and Chuuya’s just so small I could cry.
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Like, I knew he was small, but he's just so young, I can't. People were experimenting on him. Like, how??
The way Rimbaud wants to ask Chuuya something and Chuuya crouches down to him. Which leads to Rimbaud putting a hand around Chuuya as he tells him to live. How close and personal they are when Rimbaud says all of this just make it feel so much more impactful for Chuuya. Kinda love too that Chuuya isn't just standing over Rimbaud. He's making it obvious he's open to listening.
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Rimbaud says a lot of shitty things to Chuuya up to this point, even complaining that he has to kill a kid while only referring to Dazai, completely not acknowledging Chuuya as anything more than Arahabaki. But once he fully remembers what happened with Verlaine, I feel like that’s when Rimbaud remembers what he truly believed about Verlaine and his humanity and how that extends to Chuuya’s humanity. Because Rimbaud’s whole final speech is most definitely things he’d also thought of or told Verlaine before (as I think is confirmed in SB). I think those are Rimbaud’s true thoughts and beliefs on the matter, it just took that long for him to remember the full story and how he felt about it all. Rimbaud saw Verlaine’s struggles with humanity, and now he also remembers why Verlaine betrayed him. And so he tells Chuuya to live, just as Verlaine wanted him to back then, live without the burden of worrying about your humanity or where you came from, because “you are you.” It doesn’t matter if Chuuya (and Verlaine) “are but a pattern etched on the surface of raw power.” In Rimbaud’s mind, and honestly where we eventually end up at the end of SB, is that it really doesn’t matter what your origins are, whether someone is an artificial personality (aka pattern) etched onto raw power, because really everything is some version of a pattern upon the world. And in a word with abilities, a lot of people are a pattern connected to a power. Just as in SB Chuuya decides that even though Adam isn’t human and he knows it, it doesn’t take away from Adam’s actions, his sacrifices, or his dreams. Same goes for Chuuya and Verlaine. Their origins don't affect how human they truly are. Their humanity is significant no matter what. It just took a bit more convincing for Chuuya to get there, a little more than what Rimbaud could offer on his (almost) deathbed.
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Anyway, Chuuya holding Rimbaud’s hand as he dies just does things to me. Like, the book described that “Both Chuuya and Dazai quietly listened as if there was something in what Randou (Rimbaud) was saying that they couldn’t allow themselves to miss… Some things, however, would not return to normal: the body of a man who no longer felt the cold, and the hearts of two boys who stood rooted to the spot, staring at him. A gust of wind peered through their souls as it passed them by.”
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This page just so well depicts that last line. It truly feels these boys have heard something so monumental, that they won’t ever forget. Standing in the aftermath of their first fight together, hearing these words about humanity that both mean so much to both of them. Dazai’s expressions really convey this to me in the manga, and convey it just so beautifully. And Chuuya being so close to Rimbaud when he speak those words just makes it feel like those words truly are so monumental for him. And also this means that Chuuya fought to kill a man, that to be entirely fair and clear was trying to kill him first, and then held to his hand as he dies, and there’s just something about this added detail that’s so significant to me in portraying the weight of it on Chuuya. Chuuya's connection to Rimbaud is a complicated but important one. But really these words are important for both boys, because let’s not forget that Dazai also struggles with his humanity. Even if he doesn’t have a physical reason to doubt his humanity, like Chuuya, there are many other reasons that he does doubt it. So hearing that all people and all of humanity are really just patterns within the physical world, human or not that’s true of everyone and everything, and that’s important for Dazai to hear too. I think both boys think back to Rimbaud’s final speech quite a bit, if I’m being honest or did for a while.
I am NOT getting over the detail that someone (Chuuya??) put Rimbaud’s scarf on his grave. I just… it does something to me and I love that detail so much. And cutting back to that “You are you” line while Chuuya’s talking to the grave is just so perfect in my opinion, and again just shows the significance of it so, so well. It’s like, he's talking to Rimbaud, complaining about his actions really, and then it cuts to that “you are you” and it just shows almost the contrast I guess between Chuuya feeling unrest at not finding stuff about his past that Rimbaud could’ve given him, but maybe wouldn’t have anyway, and Rimbaud’s statement that those things don’t matter because Chuuya is who he is beyond all that. Also the little dandelion blowing into the wind, to me also signifying a wish being spread.
Anyway, entirely unnecessary to end the chapter with a big knife in Chuuya’s back, thanks. Especially after Chuuya mentions how he’s still exhausted from everything. Like let’s just, stop, please.
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He's just a boy, leave him alone for the sake of all things good.
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soshadysoquiet · 1 day
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TUA fanfic WIP: Sibling Beach Trip
I've recently devoured @assaily 's WIP posts and you know what, why hoard all of my WIPs when I may never finish them and people might enjoy them?
Having said that this isn't a snippet so much as it's a 2 thirds done fic that I've lost inspiration for the ending for so grab yourself a drink and enjoy!
Working Title: Beach No Beach. Love a working title
Length: 6k. Self control? Who is she?
Premise: Post apocalypse a family beach trip is proposed. Five has his reservations and is finding real life hard to adjust to, but he'll go if that's the Sibling Movement of the week. This is basically a slice of life fic that I'm pretty sure was going to build to Diego needing to save Five from drowning at the beach, because of course it was, but I think the rest of this has enough low-level angst and family moments to be entertaining on it's own.
Warnings: This fic discusses body dysmorphia in small detail and has underage drinking from Five.
It was embarrassing. More than embarrassing, really.
Shameful.
But Five couldn’t swim.
They’d had what constituted as ‘lessons’ when they were kids, apparently. Five had very limited memories of life before the Apocalypse, and often they seemed more surreal than anything.
‘We did?’ He asked blankly, barely looking over his morning cup of coffee to Viktor and Klaus.
‘All the time bro!’ Klaus replied breathily, laughing, eyes just a little wide in the thrill of memory, or possibly at Five not remembering something. ‘You don’t remember the pool? I’m pretty sure Dad blocked off the door after we started sneaking down there to play.’
‘I remember.’ Viktor nodded along, smile curling his lips so that his face lit up. ‘That’s how we found about Diego-‘
‘And his creepy fish power!’ Klaus looked ready to implode with hysteria and even Viktor bent to the table with a snort before looking between them.
‘You really don’t remember that?’
‘Diego isn’t a fish…’ He spoke slowly. He was talking to children after all. Or maybe he was hallucinating again. It happened. Hiding his grimace, Five took a sip.
‘Yeah! Yeah he can really hold his breath, come on you have to remember that, we teased him for weeks!’
‘Yeah that was kinda mean of us.’ Viktor grimaced a little into his own coffee. Probably for no reason, Viktor at that age wouldn’t have said Boo to a goose.
Hold his breath? It almost was a memory. Someone laughing, Diego pouting, then throwing a fit.
‘I think I’d remember us finding out about that.’
‘Maybe you blocked it out, it was pretty horrible at the time.’ The tone shifted after Viktor’s words.
‘Why doesn’t that surprise me.’
‘What doesn’t surprise you?’ Diego.
‘Speak of the devil!’ Klaus chorused, Five flinched a little at Diego’s hand falling briefly onto his shoulder as he passed. But it was barely noticeable now, he’d almost got a hang on it. ‘We were reminiscing about the time Dear old Dad decided to test out our underwater endurance.’
‘You mean when he held us all under the water until you all near passed out and I beat all your asses.’
‘Definitely would have remembered that one.’ Five murmured, covering up the chill skipping over his flesh.
‘Technically you didn’t beat my ass, since I wasn’t included in How to Drown Your Kids 101.’ Viktor replied with a darkly amused smirk and the sort of steel satisfaction that only true trauma inspired.
‘Well I’d have beaten you too.’ Diego retorted, confident as he went about fetching some ungodly looking juice concoction from the fridge.
How many different fruits went into just that, how many vegetables? The math wasn’t worth it, wasn’t worth the pang of mixed dread and desire it inspired in him.
‘And then we all called you, ah, well, never mind eh?’ Diego’s glare had silenced Klaus.
‘For the record, we’re sorry.’ Viktor offered, voice so gentle and meaning.
‘I’ve got nothing to be sorry for.’ Five retorted. He wasn’t there after all, and he was above childish name calling. He had found more creative insults.
‘Well you got off the hook easily anyway, you weren’t even there.’ Diego chimed in, but did take the time to nod to Viktor in a passing sense of camaraderie. He sat heavily at the table and looked at them all as he took a drink. ‘What brought this on anyway?’
‘We’re trying to convince little Fivey-‘
‘Older than you!’ His insistence was soundly ignored.
‘To come to the beach with us all at the weekend.’ Diego hastily swallowed the mouthful of his juice. What could all those ingredients even taste like together? Five shook his head at the sight.
‘Hell yeah you should come! You don’t get out enough.’
‘I get out plenty.’
‘To the library maybe.’ Klaus mumbled, twiddling with the buttons undone on his shirt.
‘Come on Five, it would be fun!’
‘Would it really?’ He sighed, wished he’d just blinked back up to his room with the coffee.
‘Its the beach bro.’ Diego’s voice was so deadpan that Five managed to feel insulted.
‘There isn’t even anything there! It’s all dead anyway!’ One of his hands gestured with the coffee cup for effect as he complained but the others were staring at him and, oh, right. Nervously he cleared his throat. ’I mean-‘
‘No, no what is it?’ Klaus was too gentle. They’d started doing this recently, paying attention to him rather than responding with their own drama and pushing what he said aside. Five didn’t know what to do with it. And it only took a few rapid equations to work out the cheapest way out of this situation.
‘Fine I’ll go. But don’t expect me to enjoy it.’ He blinked away. But not far.
Paranoid.
‘Alright alright.’ Five muttered quietly at Dolores’ imagined critique from where he sat in the pantry, listening.
‘Well, that was surprisingly easy, only took ten minutes.’ Klaus sounded both pleased and a little disappointed. Had he not wanted Five to come after all, or had he just wanted to do more wheedling?
‘What do you think he meant by it being dead?’ Viktor asked, voice contemplative and too damn observant.
‘I swear to God Klaus, if you making him go to the beach causes another apocalypse-‘
Diego and Klaus devolved into childish squabbles and Five blinked out of the pantry.
The beach huh. He hadn’t seen it in decades. He’d only been the once. If they’d ever done any missions by the sea as children Five certainly didn’t remember it.
It could be nice this time.
‘We can’t swim Dolores.’ In the emptiness of his room, the reminder drifted lifeless. He’d learned that one the hard way. ‘And only you can float.’
-
A weekend beach trip sounded like hell to Five but apparently he was one of the few. Yet it was interesting that the closer they got to the date the more cracks appeared in the others’ armour.
Diego would boast about his abilities, but when Luther had guffawed ‘oh my god! Fish-Boy!’ Their knife-wielding vigilante had begun to stammer on and off when they talked about the ocean. Allison had bitched at Luther down the phone for it, as had Klaus in person. Five had been listening in on parts of the phone call.
Because he liked to hear their voices, not because he was paranoid, Dolores!
But it wasn’t just Diego.
Allison had sounded hesitant, and wanted to bring Claire, but remained nervous about mixing Claire with their family. Five usually made himself scarce on the rare occasions that Allison brought Claire around. It had only been twice, but no matter how much he wanted to meet her, Five didn’t have anything to fall back on when interacting with people outside his siblings. Unless they were a threat, or it was for less than two minutes.
Three minutes fifteen had been his record, at the library where he went to practice. And after that he’d had to go hide in the bathroom stall and have a minor panic attack.
With people that mattered it was harder. Because there was only so long Five could talk to someone who mattered before he fucked it up. He’d only been able to say ‘Hi, nice to meet you’ to Claire before becoming overwhelmed by her childlike open-stare and making an excuse to run away. But he wasn’t the only reason for Allison’s hesitance.
Five thought she was worried about the crazy rubbing off.
During last month’s visit Klaus had told Claire the story of Dead Uncle Ben after she’d caught Klaus talking to what looked like thin air. Five had overheard on the phone call the week after how Claire had begun ‘talking to Dead Uncle Ben’ at school. For a custody battle situation, it was understandably a nightmare.
Diego always had knives on him, and children had sticky fingers. Claire kept trying to pull them out from Diego’s pockets and holsters and fingers. It wasn’t as if Diego encouraged or approved of it, but he had offered to teach her before he’d caught Allison’s look. And even at the beach Diego would probably be packing at least three knives. Probably more.
Luther had been fine at first, and was Claire’s favourite uncle. But then  the Holy Trinity of Stupid; hitherto named Klaus, Luther and Diego, had loudly reminisced about the all the times Luther had accidentally injured them during training when they were kids. Even Five had joined in; Luther  smacking him hard enough into the wall after a mis-timed jump and cracking his arm during combat training were ironically some of his clearer memories. Allison trusted Luther with Claire’s life, but she had looked a little green around the gills as they all laughed about it.
Viktor hadn’t done anything to directly inspire worry, but Allison had told Luther she was worried about Claire finding out what she’d done to her sibling when they were children. Five had stopped listening to the phone call once Allison started crying, feeling more than a little guilty about his eavesdropping.
So, Allison was apprehensive about Family Fun-Time at the Beach because it involved Family Fun-Time. Otherwise known as ill-facilitated chaos.
Klaus worried about taking Ben to the ocean and Ben being sad about only being able to be so-corporeal in the ocean. A guilt Five felt Klaus didn’t need to put on himself, given that without him there would be no beach for Ben. But he’d been told he had a rather unsympathetic view on things and asked to leave. It didn’t help that Ben was apparently desperate to go to the ocean and also sad about it, apparently.
Or so Five could tell from what he’d heard when he stood nearby Klaus’ room at night, or followed him at night down the street, or when he was hiding in the pantry eating fluffed-nutter sandwiches and just listening to his siblings being alive.
-
Friday lunchtime and Five thought that most of the pre-beach drama had probably run its course, that said nothing for what would blow up when they were actually there in typical Hargreeves-style. And he counted the journey to and from as a separate nightmarish entity altogether, but at least this time he was one of the cats to be herded, not the one doing the herding. Small mercies.
They were just lucky that Lila had decided not to come. Apparently their powers ‘gave her a headache’ whilst she was pregnant. Five had gone to visit her out of boredom and sibling duty, and swore to report back on the idiocy for her, and had somehow gotten roped into shopping.
‘Just zap us all there, I want to feel alive again.’
‘You could do it yourself.’ He pointed out, and she groaned and grabbed his hand. They did that a lot, held hands. Five had actually come to enjoy the brusque contact with his most violent sister. There remained a certain comfort in the knowledge he was holding the hand of another killer.
‘Don’t be a prick.’ She groaned. He waited, brow raised. ‘Look you’re more practiced than me alright! I don’t want to jump there and find out little Lila Junior is all over the floor somewhere else!’
‘Okay that’s disgusting.’ He’d blinked them just to stop the conversation, but not so quick that he hadn’t seen her wicked grin at his pain.
And, of course, after jumping that far, he didn’t have the juice to escape.
‘Do you even own anything that isn’t some god-awful dark academia bullshit?’
‘Rich coming from a punk.’
‘You’re going to the beach not a banquet-‘ They’d snapped and bitten at each other whilst grinning through their shark teeth and Lila had forced him to buy a pair of truly heinous swimming trunks about the length of the Academy shorts he’d used to wear. At least until Allison had dragged him out shopping again.
‘You wore that nice suit in the Sparrow timeline, you do not need to go back to looking like a prep-school kid.’
At least Allison had taste.
And secretly, Five had been glad that someone had made him do it. Old routines were the hardest to break for him when they seemed so ultimately unimportant.
‘Sunglasses!’ Lila belted out, breaking his musings and dragged him roughly over to a stand. She’d fussed over trying on shades and insisting on him doing the same and Five had allowed himself to pick out a pair he actually quite liked.
They suit you better than those goggles. Five huffed a smile at that. Dolores always had deplored his apocalyptic wardrobe.
‘I just, I want to be out there, but I’m not sure I’m ready to be out there.’ Five’s head popped up over the sunglasses stand.
‘Viktor? Luthor?’
‘Five!’
‘Lila?’
‘There’s the boys! No Klaus?’
‘He was, um, what are you doing here?’ Luther stumbled the words, other than Klaus and Five, the siblings were still somewhat awkward around Diego’s partner. Lila didn’t let it show, but Five thought the distance there bothered her. Five certainly wasn’t the one to know what to do about it. Klaus had told him he ‘imprinted’, like a duckling, and that had been enough ‘friendship’ talk to last another lifetime.
And he got embarrassed enough by Diego’s obvious happiness at him taking the time to include Lila.
Five held up the shorts he was being frog-marched into buying.
Not that there was a point, because he wouldn’t be stepping foot in the ocean ever again.
‘Apparently this is required dress code.’
‘Oh, same.’ Luther grinned a bit, before his face fell. Viktor, who’d been the one talking earlier, looked a little sullen.
‘No offence, but me and my spawn are going to walk away from all this.’ Lila gestured and excited stage left back towards the child section where, embarrassingly, Five had just come from to get the shorts in his hand. She had meant that their powers were bothering her, a weird pregnancy side-effect, but the pair of them looked a little slapped in the face.
‘What’s up with you two?’ Five asked, coming around the sunglasses stand to eye them up and down better. ‘Was it Diego? It’s usually Diego.’
‘What? No.’ Luther insisted. Viktor cleared his throat.
‘It’s just,’ Viktor paused for a breath and looked to Luther, who nodded encouragingly. ‘It’s hard to, cross some hurdles, with the dysmorphia.’
‘It’ll get easier, or I hope it will.’ Luther’s half-encouragement was half-hearted but well meaning, and Viktor offered him a small sad smile. Five just frowned at them.
‘Dysmorphia?’ He rolled the word around, squinting. ‘The medical condition?’ He frowned harder. In a sense, Luther’s ape-like physicality could be called that. But Sloane had gone a long way to helping with that. But she wasn’t fully welcomed into the loving disaster that was his family yet, so she wouldn’t be at the beach. Maybe that was the problem.
He’d said the wrong thing, Luther was flushed in embarrassment and Viktor put a hand on his arm before cutting in.
‘No, well-‘
‘Sort of, in my case. Both I guess.’ Luther spoke over Viktor, seeming to pull in his confidence with a truly remarkable strength. Strength of character that their father had always failed to measure. Much like Viktor’s patience.
‘Body dysmorphia. It’s when you might feel like the way your body looks isn’t how you think it should be. It’s how I felt, before. And somedays there’s another new hurdle to cross.’
‘It’s not comfortable, the idea of being on show like that.’ They managed their words with aplomb, but Five was somewhere between them and himself.
Maybe that was selfish, but he found himself looking at his own hands as they spoke, jaw a little slack.
Dysmorphia.
‘Oh.’ He didn’t have many more words for them, but the silence suggested he should, so he pulled away from himself and looked to them again. ‘What are you going to do about it?’
Taken aback a little by the blunt question, they looked at each other. Viktor found his voice first.
‘We were debating between making a ’t-shirts are ok’ pact or a-‘
‘’Skin or nothing’ oath.’ Luther finished. Five didn’t think he had the skill set to say the right thing.
You do. Dolores insisted softly. You’re kinder than you think.
‘Well, let me know what you decide.’ He offered, hoping he was somewhere on the track to wiping the misery off their faces. Three apocalypses and it’s still the human condition bringing us all down. ‘I’ll join you.’ Decidedly he nodded, and turned to make sure Lila wasn’t getting caught shoplifting. Honestly her skills needed some improvement. Although she would probably say the same about him.
Viktor and Luther’s seaside-problems Five could understand maybe a bit better on a personal level than those afflicting the rest of his family, because there was a certain degree of dysmorphia to all their bodily situations that didn’t bother dwelling on but couldn’t not be dwelt on at the beach. It wasn’t like he enjoyed looking at himself in the mirror, so on some level he got it.
He’d bring a t-shirt in case.
-
Despite their united worry, and Five’s pessimism, the Hargreeves family all descended on the mansion Friday evening for their trip to the beach the following day.
Five nearly blinked to the roof when Claire ran up and hugged him, standing with his fists clenched throughout and then vanishing behind the bar. As in hidden behind the bar. He had long ago sworn to Allison that he wouldn’t drink in front of Claire. They could at least both agree that she was a child.
Luther and surprisingly Viktor got drunk on the other side of the bar and Klaus merrily joined in.
Lila dropped Diego off to stay overnight since they had an early start come the morning, and Five contemplated blinking into their car to escape whilst Diego shouted at her to not do anything criminal while he was gone.
Allison escaped to smoke twice in between fretting about which sibling to entrust Claire to in the meantime, and quickly decided to just put Claire to bed instead.
Five listened to it all hidden behind the bar. Klaus knew he was there, he kept passing his glass down for Five to refill. Five left a shot out for Ben as well, because it felt polite, Even if apparently Ben disapproved of alcohol.
All too soon, they were turning in for the night in dribs and drabs.
Five hung on until the end. Surprisingly with Luther and Viktor.
‘Ahem.’ Luther cleared his throat and knocked a little sloppily on the bar top as they were turning to go. Five had been humming ‘Dream a little Dream of me’ for Dolores for the last few minutes and hiccupped himself to a stop. ‘For tomorrow, no shirts.’
‘No shirts!’ Viktor chorused loudly and very, very drunk, toppling a little from the sounds of it.
‘No shirts!’ Luther joined in and the pair stumbled up for the night.
‘No shirts.’ He toasted to the air, took his last swig and went to pick up Dolores-
But she wasn’t there. The shop had thrown her away.
In a flash the martini glass he’d been drinking from smashed against the bar where he’d thrown it.
You’re gonna have to clean that up now.
‘I know, I know.’
He ignored the catch in his voice as he moved to do just that, craving to hold her and getting glass shards instead.
‘Get up Five! Christ, there’s always one.’
‘And it’s usually him, or you. Actually it's usually you.’
‘Shut up and help me! Oh wait you can’t.’
‘Wow, low blow.’
‘Oh I can go lower-‘
‘Shut up.’ Five smacked his pillow at Klaus like a true teenager and glowered. His hair was ruffled and he smelt like a bar.
‘You look like some nasty little cat I found on the sidewalk and just want to put in a blanket,’ Klaus half-crooned, half sneered, grabbing his grumbling gremlin of a brother. ‘Now come on, get up and showered or Allison will have our asses.’
‘Have our asses!’ All three of them turned with slightly horrified gazes to see Claire standing in the door giggling, fingers pressed over her mouth and looking like she knew exactly what she was doing. The little tyrant. With a final giggle she turned and ran. ‘Mooooooom!’
‘No no no no no!’ Klaus abandoned Five to his fate and sprinted off after his favourite little terror of a niece. If she made it to Allison, they were all doomed.
She made it Allison.
Five managed to get himself somewhat presentable, down the stairs and into clothes. In fact they all did, more or les on time, it was a Hargreeves miracle.
‘Loving the shorts buddy. You needed more colour in your wardrobe.’
‘Keep talking and I’ll sk-‘ Five stopped himself, Ben snorted uncharitably behind Klaus’ shoulder as Claire looked eerily around at them, eyes wide and guileless. Klaus cleared his throat whilst Five’s brain seemed to re-wire itself, clutching his coffee for dear life and eyes shielded by shades. ‘Skkkunk you.’
‘Skunk you.’ Claire mouthed, hand benignly in Allison’s, eyes bright with hell-fire.
‘Skunk me?’ Klaus turned to Five again, disbelief and laughter battling for dominance in his chest. ‘That’s the best you could do?’
‘Keep talking, and you’ll find out.’ Five’s coffee got grumbled into and Ben guffawed behind them.
‘You’re both idiots.’
‘Shut up Ben!’
‘Dead Uncle Ben’s here?!’ Klaus shrivelled under the weight of Allison’s incredulous raised brows turning to him with the sweet promise of death as Ben ‘awwed’ behind him.
-
Allison had already had to put up with Claire having a tantrum about not being able to talk to Uncle Ben, and had thrown her hands in the air when  Klaus had said Ben also wanted to talk to Claire.
‘Sure, why not! Let’s just wheel her right into therapy rather than window-shopping it!’ She had stormed to the back of the bus and sat next to Five, because he was currently the quietest and she saw the least of him.
Ben’s blue conjured form absolutely enchanted Claire, and her eyes swelled so large and happy and un-affected by rumour as she looked gleefully between Dead Uncle Ben and her Mom that it made Allison’s heart lighter.
Watching Ben form into what existence Klaus could give him was always a delight, if a bittersweet one, and Allison found herself relaxing a bit at watching the joint joy on her child and brother’s faces.
They had taken the bus to the beach, changed three times and by the time the ocean breeze was coming salty and refreshing through the window Allison’s hungover siblings had drunk enough coffee, water and juice to grace the land of the living. Viktor and Luther had woken from their nap enough to tease Diego about his upcoming life of parenthood. She’d berate them, or join them, but honestly they were just the warm up act for the terror Allison herself could inspire if she told Diego the truth of parenting. But she didn’t quite want to do that.
Something in her knew the horrors too well to joke about them right now, the emotions always too present. And some dark voice inside her said that she didn’t get to lord it over anyone. Not with the mess she’d made the first time round.
And probably was making, letting her kid talk to her ghost Uncle.
‘It’ll be fine.’ Allison jolted a bit, and glanced down at Five, slumped still somewhat bonelessly, dressed in a plain top and tropical beach shorts that were almost the same shade of yellow as Allison’s own bikini under her wrap dress. Five was alert enough to be verbal, which was good, but not quite enough to move further down the bus and put up with their family’s particular brand of unending bullshit.
‘What will?’ She asked, bewildered. ‘This family trip? I’m pretty sure its’ already gone way better than it should, which means we’re due for a tsunami at least.’ He snickered at that and she smiled at the rarely heard sound.
‘Well I won’t disagree, but I meant Claire with Ben. If anyone can talk sense to her, it’s the one who usually holds the brain cell.’
And Five was somewhat right. Despite the way he very awkwardly coughed and looked through his fringe out the window when Claire came to sit between them.
‘Mom, I’m sorry about pretending to see Dead Uncle, I mean, Uncle Ben at school. I know it’s a Serious Topic now.’ She nodded solemnly, and Allison felt her face crease up in adoration at the attemptive-adult look on her daughter’s angelic face. And the apology that she wasn’t sure she deserved, but couldn’t help melting over. ‘But that doesn’t mean I’ll stop talking about him because Uncle Ben and Death are important.’ And just like that, adoration turned to the sort of disbelief that only children could inspire. Five snorted.
‘Smart kid.’ He muttered, and Allison found her smile reforming.
‘Thank you Claire, and you’re right, those are important topics. We’ll have a talk about bluntness at, a much, much later date.’ Because there were only so many Serious Parenting Moments she could handle before 10 in the morning. She thought she had an easy out, but then Five was turning to Claire with a devilish look at Allison over his glasses and a truly awful smile. Her stomach dropped.
‘Whatever she says don’t listen to her, your Mom mastered bluntness at age Six.’
‘Six?!’
‘Six.’ Five nodded.
‘I think you should go talk to Uncle Ben while he’s here sweetie, Uncle Klaus can only keep him visible so long-‘
‘But I wanna talk to Uncle Five too!’
‘No you don’t-‘ Allison and Five flashed each other an awkward look at their matching words.
‘Hey Claire! Claire! Wanna see the octopus in Uncle Ben’s belly-‘
‘NO SHOWING HER THE HORROR!’ Allison shouted as Claire squealed and ran for a glaring Ben and shit-eating Klaus.
She didn’t have one child, she had a whole bus of them.
-
The beach spray in the air wasn’t like he’d thought it would be.
Five watched the unreal blue hue of the ocean, heard the waves crash rather than slosh thickly, felt sand rather than trash and rubble under his feet.
It was beautiful.
‘So, we doing this?’
‘We’re doing this.’ He glanced to Luther and Viktor. They’d set up their family’s base-camp on the beach, and Allison was over at the nearby changing huts getting Claire sorted. Diego had set them up under one of the available umbrellas and was lecturing Klaus on sunscreen. Because of course he was.
Red rays from the too-hot sunlight burnt through the distorted atmosphere, piercing dust-and-storm clouds, lighting the grey sloshing water in an eerie light.
‘Don’t you want to swim? I always wanted to swim.’
‘Hey Five!’ Sand hit him in the face. Five spluttered and spun around. No crap littering the golden sands. Just his family and the blue tide. Disguising his shaky breath, Five glared at Diego. ‘You too, sun cream, come on line up.’
‘Sun cream Nazi.’
‘Want me to spray it in your face Klaus?’ Klaus just groaned, turning around obediently as Diego sprayed an endless can of aerosol ‘factor 30’ onto his pale skin.
‘Might as well get it over with Five. He’ll have his way.’ Klaus pouted.
‘That I will, alright, you’re done, come back in three hours.’
‘Alright Mom.’ Klaus mocked with a grin and escaped away, donning his brimmed hat and heading to the ocean.
‘You’re up.’ Diego beckoned him over and Five shook his head snorting.
‘The sun’s not even radioactive at this point.’ Diego stared and then grabbed him.
‘You’re the most in danger, young skin is important to protect.’
‘Get off me!’ Five snatched the can and roughly sprayed over himself before throwing it back. ‘Happy?’
‘That’s not how you apply sunscreen bro.’
‘Its literally what you just did.’
‘No sunscreen, no sun.’ Diego stated with an impressive amount of finality and pointed at the towels under the parasol where Viktor and Luther were lurking. Beyond them, Allison was running after Claire to the water.
‘Fine by me.’ He wasn’t swimming anyway, and he’d had enough of the sun’s harsh rays. Diego seemed appeased, and headed to the ocean himself.
Five settled down and, seeing his remaining brothers had already removed their shirts, did the same. Solidarity and all.
Job done, he settled back, and watched the ocean.
It was even more mesmeric now than it had been back then, thick with ash and ruined life, but the largest amount of water he’d seen in months.
He hadn’t washed in months.
Is it even real? Dolores laughed at him
‘Of course it’s real.’ Walking there had been a dream, heart thudding, shedding clothes along the way haphazardly, stumbling over ruble and Dolores in his arms, in a dream till the water sloshed over his ankles.
The sensation had sent shivers up his spine.
‘Hey, you swimming?’ Viktor nudged him back into focus and Five looked around him, glad of the sunglasses hiding his eyes.
‘No.’
‘Really? But we’re at the beach, and it’s pretty empty, even Luther’s in.’ It took Five a moment to notice that yes, he was. Tossing Claire up in the air and into the water as she squealed in delight. Diego looked like he was doing some pretty serious swimming while Klaus and Allison lounged in the shallows.
‘You go, have fun. I’ll guard the camp. Wouldn’t want us loosing our clothes.’ He got a frown at that, but Five had lost his Academy uniform that day on the beach and with it the only reminder of home he had left, the only identity he had. Not to mention the only clothes he’d had.
Just because he’d wanted to feel water and hadn’t weighed them down.
‘Well, come over when you’re ready. You’ll like it.’ He grinned in lieu of answering and Viktor shrugged and went off, both him and Luther bare-skinned from the waist up and wearing it with growing confidence.
Smiling a little, Five folded his arms behind his head and stretched his toes into the sand. It burned a bit, but the feeling was unlike anything he’d felt before. He kept doing it over and over, finally sitting up and admitting that he wanted to touch it.
Five settled off the towel and felt the sand all over, shivering, digging his fingers into it.
Dry and hot on top, cool and heavier underneath if he dug down far enough.
Golden, soft.
His fingers found a shell and Five took a while staring at the delicate pattern, mesmerised. He looked for more.
‘What are you doing?’ Five had to get a better handle on being snuck up on. He looked around to see Claire staring at him, rocking on her feet.
‘Finding shells.’ He replied.
‘I’ll help!’ She lay down next to the hole he’d dug and reached her arms in to tease through the sand. ‘They’re pretty.’
‘Uh, sure.’ Seeing how deep Claire had to reach into the hole, Five looked around and winced. Half of their belongings were covered in sand and to match the hole was a large mountain he’d moved aside, digging straight down mindlessly.
‘Is this one good?’ Claire pulled out a long, thin shell, poking Five’s knee with it.
‘Its great.’ He took it and tried not to feel her eyes on him as he looked it over. ‘It’s a razor clam shell.’ He offered, turning it over in his fingers and admiring the barred pattern. He put it in the ‘clam’ pile.
‘Really? What’s this one.’
‘A snail.’
‘And this one?’ Five glanced over from where he’d reached for another speck of porcelain white buried in the sand.
‘A crab claw.’
‘Where’s the rest of the crab?’
‘Given that that’s it’s arm, I’m assuming that it’s dead.’
‘Like Uncle Ben.’
‘Like Uncle Ben. Although, I don’t know if crabs have ghosts that stick around, that’s really an ethical and philosophical debate on the presence of a soul and frankly it’s exhausting.’
‘Oh.’
‘Claire! There you are, don’t run off like that!’ Allison looked vaguely harassed as she hurried to them. ‘Oh, Five, thanks for looking after her.’
‘Don’t mention it.’ He replied, somewhat guilty where he had moved to sit in the hole he’d dug, and hadn’t even noticed Claire being ‘missing’ in the first place. He’d been too focused by the texture of sand and delicate shells.
‘What are you two doing?’ The frown and amused quirk to her mouth suggested that this wasn’t normal.
‘Uncle Five’s collecting shells.’ Incredulous eyes turned his way, Five scowled.
‘I can stop.’ He snapped out.
‘No, no Five, it’s okay. People collect shells at the beach.’ Her assurance was swift but gentle, genuine. Claire was looking at him wide-eyed.
‘Oh. Okay.’ He replied, somewhat derailed from defending himself.
Prickly. Five ignored Dolores’ fond chuckle.
‘Impressive hole Five.’ Luther came up behind Allison and Five hopped out enough to sit on the rim of his sand pit. Claire squealed on seeing him and reached up to be lifted, she kept hold of the crab claw.
‘What is that?’
‘It’s Uncle Five’s dead crab!’
‘Don’t touch things like that!’ Allison wrestled it from Claire  who pouted.
‘Uncle Five touched it!’
‘Well, he’s a heathen, not a lady.’ Five snorted, but didn’t deny it. ‘Let’s go wash your hands.’ Claire was led away with a plea of ‘but mooooooom’ and Luther took her place.
‘You’re not swimming?’
‘Apparently I’m collecting shells.’ Five gestured over to the neatly sorted collection he’d accumulated.
Dolores liked them.
‘I just thought you were digging a hole. Maybe we should make a sand castle.’
‘A what?’ Luther was already gathering the sand Five had piled up and grinned.
‘I’ll show you! I used to try and make miniature ones on the moon with the moon dust I collected, but we could make a really big one!’ The childlike enthusiasm was enough to stir Five’s eternal curiosity, he followed Luther out of his hole and felt the sun lap his skin as they began forming a ‘foundation’.
It was surprisingly enjoyable. Therapeutically technical.
It looks good.
It did, Five thought.
Give it a tower for me, like a princess would have.
‘It needs a tower.’
‘Good idea. And a flag.’
They built for a while before Diego came to join them and added himself in with a comment of ‘sick’. They stuck one of Diego’s knives in the top in place of a flag and Viktor and Klaus came by with a heaping assortment of lunch foods.
‘Feeding time at the zoo!’
Allison and Claire followed having been in the sea again, and Five got up and stretched from where he’d been hunched over. The water glittered in the sun.
Five thought he might like the beach.
‘Five, your back!’
‘What about it?’ Five looked at Diego askance but got pushed under the shade.
‘It’s coming up red already, I told you to stay in the shade.’
‘Such a parent in the making.’ Klaus teased. ‘What? I think it’s sweet, really!’ Ben, apparently, was getting involved.
‘I’m fine.’ Five protested, but was wrangled onto one of their sandy towels and he watched bemused as Diego wetted a t-shirt and draped it over Five’s shoulders. The coolness did feel good, he hadn’t realised how hot his skin had gotten. Sometimes it was hard to feel things.
‘After lunch, you’re putting sunscreen on.’ Diego warned with a raised finger and firm stare. ‘Now drink your water.’
‘You’re not the boss of me.’ But he wasn’t about to waste water, so he drunk what he was given and ate the hotdog passed his way and listened to their chatter. With the distraction of the sand gone, his thoughts ticked lazily back to the last ocean trip he’d had.
He’d been so hungry that time that he’d contemplated eating one of the rotting fish carcasses before deciding better.
-
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my-favourite-zhent · 3 days
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Fortune and Favour
Hello folks, a new AU long fic for you.
Summary:
AU set in Luskan 1480DR. Rugan has assumed leadership over the Coin Spinners gang and taken the name Clearlight. When a Waterdhavian noble comes snooping around for Illuskan Netherese relics under the gang's headquarters Rugan steps up to put them in their place. What he instead finds is the chance at an amazing payday and an unexpected prize.
Notes:
This AU is straight out of the filthy mind of @fistfuloftarenths. She head canoned the idea of Rugan of Clearlight based off the screenshots of @captainsigge. Fistful also came up with a lot of the scene ideas, so I'm bordering on being her ghostwriter at this point. Also thank you to @dustdeepsea for helping me with the title and summary. Big shout out to all three for beta reading for me. These fics are pretty much written for the Zhentil Keep Perverts at this point.
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Banner by the lovely @coreene
Chapter One below the cut or here on AO3
Chapter One
1480 15 Uktar
Eden of Clearlight was dead, had been for many months now. While she had rallied many of the other gangs to the Coin Spinners banner, she had lost almost as many men in the ensuing chaos. The Coin Spinners had been left adrift, weakened, directionless and Rugan had seen an opportunity.
He’d only been a lieutenant in a lower ranking gang – so low its name does not bear recounting – when Eden had pulled them all into the fold. But now she and most of her officers were dead. There had been a few others that vied for leadership, and all had found a knife in their back. Either each other’s or Rugan’s.
So it came to be that at barely twenty-four Rugan had become the new head of the Coin Spinners, and with it acquired the title Clearlight. So named for the temple-come-fortress that housed them. He had struck decisively at the other criminal organisations before they had gotten their feet back under them. Most had survived but in weakened states. There were few left who would dare challenge him now. Which was why Amnos’ information came as a surprise.
“Some girl’s been asking about you down in the Cutlass,” the redheaded man had said as the pair stood in front of the altar to Tymora that marked the centre of the fortress.
“That right? Looking to get recruited?” Rugan drawled in his lilting Luskan accent. He tilted his head as he spoke, tied back flaxen hair catching gold in the sunlight that trickled through the stained-glass window overhead. It was said to be the last glass window in Luskan, and for which the temple and now Rugan derived their name.
“Doesn't seem like, looked a bit posh to be joining up.” Amnos scratched his beard pensively.
“A noble?” His eyebrow quirked. That was interesting. Not that he had any love for nobles but he’d never heard of one stooping to joining a street gang, especially not in Luskan of all places.
“Seemed so, dressed nice and spoke real educated-like too. Southern accent it sounded like.”
“Who’s she affiliated with?” The thought of a southerner stirring up trouble did give him pause. Kalen Dren, one of the parties who had been involved in the annihilation of the Luskan gangs, had been from Waterdeep and had since returned there. Any locals would’ve known to stay out of Rugan's way.
Amnos shrugged. “Doesn’t seem like she knows the local gangs, we haven’t seen her make contact with anyone. She’s just been reading books when she’s not harassing the locals.”
“Suppose we should pay this little interloper a visit then. We can’t have just anyone trading on my good name.” He smiled shark-like.
+++++
The Cutlass was one of the busier inns. In the city’s heyday it had been a sight to behold. Still turned a profit as it was, but much like Luskan it’s glory days were long past. The timbers were old and rotted, and its windows were made of thin sheets of animal horn rather than glass.
A nervous silence had fallen over the taproom when Rugan and Amnos entered and he felt a smile play at the corner of his mouth. There was power there, in being feared. Rugan’s exploits against the other guilds had been cutthroat and his reputation well earned. He had little interest in the common folk though. These customers had no reason to fear him as long as they didn’t cross him, but there was no need to tell them that.
He nodded at Amnos to wait for him down here before ascending the stairs to the inn’s rooms. The girl had been under watch for a few days now and his men had informed him of which room was hers. He knocked at the door. Whatever this little noble wanted, he'd be sure to send them packing.
The door swung open and there she stood. Little was right, she barely came up to his chest. But gods, she was beautiful. With soft raven waves cascading past her shoulders, a small but perky bust and a delicate waist that was begging to be grasped.
“Heard you've been asking around about Clearlight, lass.”
It was meant to be intimidating, well, just a touch to start. In her excitement the girl didn't seem to notice. She clasped her hands together under her chin and looked at him with wide eyes.
“You know about the Clearlight temple?” The delight in her voice was unmasked. Her eyes were sparkling, and they were lovely too, framed by thick dark lashes.
The girl’s reaction was the exact opposite of what he had intended, and he felt himself swallow unexpectedly. She grasped his hand in both of hers.
“Oh, do please come in!” She began pulling him into the room without waiting for a reply. Rugan allowed this, but not without some trepidation. Was this a trap set by a rival faction?
“I'd love to hear your opinion on the maps. It took a while to piece them together.” She ushered him towards a table that looked like the victim of a mad cartographer. Several maps were scattered over its surface, weighted down with pebbles. He could see underneath was a larger sheet that had connections between these disparate pieces drawn in.
“Now, no one source had all the sections of the undercity of course. What information we have on Netheril and Illusk is fragmented at best. But based on the complete diagrams from various other Netherese ruins we know that the general floorplan of a Netherese vault house follows a distinct pattern…” The girl had taken a seat at the table and continued to chatter on, but she had lost him a while ago. He sat down in the opposite chair, scrutinising her as she spoke. 
A thin braid encircled the crown of her head, adding a touch of order to the chaos that was her hair. Her blouse looked to be of a fine cotton, with ruffled trim along a neckline that dipped deliciously low. He admired how the swell of her breasts peaked out from beneath her top. It was cinched under her bust by a green velvet jacquard corset, laced up the front. Her pants were tan leather, they looked smooth and barely worn. Amnos had been right, entirely too posh to be a recruit. Some noble out of Baldur’s Gate or Waterdeep mayhaps?
“I keep asking about the temple but no one seems to want to talk about it. You'd think it was dedicated to Beshaba rather than Tymora with how skittish the locals have been.”
“People can be a bit superstitious here in Luskan,” he offered, inwardly grinning at his good fortune. 
She was a complete and utter fool. For all her research she had neglected to look into the local criminal organisations before coming to Luskan. Of course she didn't know that the Coin Spinners had taken the temple as their base, and that he had taken its name for his own.
“Ah, forgive my manners. I've forgotten to introduce myself. My name is Isolde.” She held out her hand for him to shake.
“Rugan.” He replied, taking her hand and raising it to place a kiss upon it.
She was taken aback, eyes wide with surprise.
‘Didn't think a guttersnipe like me knew how to address a noble lady, did ya?’ Rugan was both rankled by the thought and smug that he had proved her wrong. 
He noticed a blush creep over her cheeks and how she seemed to be appraising him now as if noticing him for the first time. He felt the beginnings of a smile tug at the corner of his mouth. No, it was more than surprise, she was flattered.
“P-pleased to meet you,” she managed to eke out.
“Indeed.”
Then, just as quickly, it seemed his hold on her was broken by a sudden recollection.
“Ah I almost forgot! The onion skin!”
“Onion skin?” 
But she was already out of her seat and rooting through her pack. She returned with a roll of paper that when unfurled was semi translucent. He supposed it did resemble the skin of an onion.
Carefully she placed it overtop the other maps, pinning it down based on some landmarks only she perceived. There was a map on the onion skin he realised. Tymora’s tits, this was—
“It's the blueprint for Tymora’s temple. The clerics in Waterdeep let me take a look at their copy. Took a bit of maths to get it to scale with the others but luckily the walls are mostly square. Mind you, this is from when it was built in the 1370s, there's no way to tell what it looks like now over a hundred years later. At least not short of going in yourself.”
Now this was something. It galled him to think that a map of the hideout had just been floating around in some Waterdeep temple for any preening noble to come have a little look-see.
“And these markings here?” He gestured to the map, careful to keep his tone neutral.
There were four circles and three crosses marked on the onion skin which lined up with structures on the maps below. He already had a sneaking suspicion what they were based on their locations.
“Passages down to Illusk. The circles are confirmed, cross-referenced with some old journal entries of a priestess I found in Candlekeep library.” 
She was correct, two were caved in, but the remaining pair the Coin Spinners had heavily trapped and kept watch over. Never knew what manner of sneak or beast would come up from the undercity.
“And the crosses are unconfirmed?”
“Right, I couldn't find any historical records that mention them specifically, but based on the fact that the first four correspond with the Netherese designs, I think it's safe to assume there would be a temple counterpart for the remaining three. Two of them are connected to a hidden inner chamber while the third connects to the high priest’s chambers, which would explain why they weren't widely known. I mean, it's just a hunch, but I'm fairly confident.”
She looked proud, and he supposed she had reason to be, having found three unguarded entrances to slip into his lair.
“Why would the temple builders create passages, and not just loot the undercity?”
“They may have already looted it or attempted to. But I suspect the temple's location would be particularly auspicious, sitting on top of a coin house. The number of passages also suggests this—seven was considered lucky in many human cultures.” She mused.
There was a sharp whistle and they both started from their chairs.
“Shit, the kettle.” She hurried over to the opposite table where a ceramic kettle bedecked with runes was steaming. Nobles and their magic toys.
“Would you like some tea?” She called over her shoulder.
“Oh, aye.”
Rugan took the opportunity to consider his next steps. He had come here expecting an upstart wanting to buy their way into the guild, or perhaps some imposter trading on his name. Either one he would've cowed or killed, depending on how much he disliked them. He was certainly prepared to dislike some preening noble.
But, technically she was innocent of any crime outside general nosiness. If anything it was his good luck that he had found her before some rival did. He could just take the map but that left the girl as a loose end. 
Rugan watched as she prepared two cups of tea. Killing her would be easy enough, but it would be simpler to find the entrances with her know-how.
‘Besides,’ he thought, as she tucked her hair behind her ear revealing more of her slender neck, ‘Noble or not, it would be a crime to remove such a pretty thing from the world.’
She returned with the two cups, and he noted she had left two sugar cubes on his saucer. Sugar had been a luxury in Luskan of late, seemed like more and more things were luxuries nowadays.
“My thanks.” He accepted the cup politely and dropped both cubes in before stirring. “You bring all this with you from Waterdeep?”
“Yes, that's right. Generally prefer to travel light but the merchants I know in the city were of the consensus that it’s a bit harder to get supplied in Luskan, and in any case it was just the one boat up.” She took the seat beside him and sipped at her tea.
“Not too long of a trip I hope?”
“A little more than half a tenday by galley. Not long at all.”
He nodded and took a deep draught of the tea. Rugan was no deckhand, but you don’t grow up in the city of sails without learning a thing or two about ships. A galley was one of the fastest and most expensive ships to book passage on, just one way may have run her fourty or fifty gold pieces. Definitely moneyed, maybe a merchant family out of Waterdeep? She might fetch a nice ransom. No servants though, at least none that Amnos had observed. This wasn’t entirely unusual with tourists who thought part of the fun was ‘roughing it’ . Especially if they were stingy tourists.
“I’m being rude again, I’ve forgotten to ask about your interest in the temple.” And she really did look sorry.
“Well I live there for one.”
“Live there!” She straightened in her chair. “But the clerics in Waterdeep, they said the clergy has long since abandoned Clearlight temple.”
“We’re not really associated with the Waterdeep branch. None of the large organisations have any interest in Luskan since the Spellplague. You could say we’re a bit esoteric compared to most Tymorans.” Rugan didn’t consider himself a particularly good liar, but the girl hadn’t seemed to have noticed.
She was leaning in close now, barely containing her excitement. “So you’ve been inside? You’ve seen the passageways?” He could smell her hair now, it was like jasmine and orange peels.
“Aye lass, some of them. Most are collapsed but those new ones on your map I haven’t seen before. Could be worth an investigation.” The girl was almost leaping out of her chair, this was too easy.
“Would you permit me to come look?” Her voice had already been high but it seemingly shifted a whole octave up now. “I promise not to disturb anything, and of course there would be a split of anything found down there.”
He let his features fall into a charming smile. “Well, if you're promising.” Of course the split would be highly in his favour, if he let her keep anything at all. Unlikely.
It was his lucky day, Tymora be praised. He was going to secure the fortress, possibly a payday and—he let his gaze linger on her a moment—a bit of company if he played his cards right.
She must have noticed his stare, noticed how close they were because her cheeks were reddening and it seemed like her breath was caught in her throat.
“Are you a treasure hunter, then?” Her cup was no longer steady in her hand and he gently took it from her, placing it on the table.
“N-no, just a student. I've been writing my graduation thesis on Illusk.”
“And the treasures they left behind?” He leaned in closer as well so they were mere inches apart. 
“It's the records I'm interested in.” Her voice was quieter now, it had a breathy quality to it.
“Not the coin?” She merely shook her head and he reached forward to palm her cheek. When she didn't protest, Rugan felt confident in his approach. She was younger than him, not by much, but enough that combined with a sheltered upbringing she was likely inexperienced in these things.
“Seems to me, if we're going to be working together we should get to know one another a little better. Don't you agree?”
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yuwuta · 4 months
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satoru physically withers and crumbles every time you return his belongings. he doesn’t know how to tell you that he can only accidentally on purpose leave his glasses on your nightstand, or his jacket on your couch, or his shirt in your laundry so many times before he loses his mind. every time you don’t take he bait, he folds into himself and wonders why you don’t love him anymore and it costs him $22.50 to hear ieiri tell him to suck it up and use his words because he literally has to buy her company (and drinks).
but when you do take the bait, when you do wear his things, satoru thinks it’s all worth it. he can’t explain why it does what it does to him. it’s a sinister kind of possession he wants to have over you, knowing you’re your own person, free to do as you please, but also knowing you’re caged in him. it’s a lovesick kind of gooeyness that melts his heart seeing you fumble with the sleeves of a sweater that’s too long for you. it’s the vision of you seeing you drowning in him—in his clothes, in his things, in him, in him, in him. he’s selfish, he wants to consume you in as many ways as possible, wants you to drown in him, would die happily knowing you were one tenth as enraptured by him as he is with you. he doesn’t know how or why or when you gained so much power over him, but he doesn’t care, he doesn’t want you to ever stop, so if he has to keep pretending to leave his clothes and bags and glasses around then so be it.
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sugume · 3 months
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LESSONS IN CORRUPTION w/Gojo Satoru
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IN WHICH: Your teacher finally has his way with you at the end of senior year
( TW ): fem!Reader, dark & explicit content, mean and manipulative teacher!Gojo, Porn w/ no plot, corruption kink, power dynamics, virgin!reader, unprotected sex, cream pie, size difference, breeding kink, blood, fingering, age gap (reader is 19, Gojo late 20's), Gojo secretly records, half edited
Word count - › 1.6K
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“You know I love you right?” Satoru asks, cupping your face. 
“I love you too.” You smile up at him as he fingers your pussy. 
“Loved you ever since I laid eyes on you—ever since you walked in my class with that short skirt and those white knee-high socks. My innocent schoolgirl.” He leans down to kiss you on the rose-covered hotel bed.  
It was your graduation party last week, but he said couldn’t make it to your party at your parent’s house, said he had an important meeting, and RSVP no to your parents’ invitation but when you asked them, they looked at you incredulously and asked why they’d send invitations to your teachers. When you went to school for your last week and told this to Gojo he said he did get an invitation and your parents told you that so you wouldn’t get upset that he couldn’t make it. 
“Gotta surprise for you though.” Gojo smiles up at you from his chair. You’re sitting on his desk, feet resting on the armrest of your teacher’s chair. Gojo can see your panty-clad pussy from his position under you, but he doesn’t say anything. He knows you’d be embarrassed if you knew he could see your Hello Kitty panties.  
“Really? What is it is!” You set your salad down so he could have your full attention, you know he doesn’t like it when you focus on anything else--even if it’s something as simple as food. You think it’s romantic how much he needs your full attention. 
“Well since I couldn’t come to your party, I figured I should throw you another party, this time just us. It could be our special party.” 
“Oh my god, really?” You throw yourself in his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck. His cologne engulfs you. 
“Mhm, and guess what? It’s gonna be a sleepover party at that new fancy hotel that just opened downtown. You excited Princess?” Gojo wraps his arms around your waist, discreetly rubbing his semi on your pussy. 
“Super-duper excited! When is it? Please say soon!” You cheer, innocently bouncing in his lap. Your pussy clenching when you feel his cock rub down the length of your damped cunt. You hope he doesn’t notice. 
“This weekend schoolgirl, your parents approved n’ everything.” He informs you, holding you down on his now rock-solid cock.  
He couldn’t wait for this weekend.  
“Really?” 
“Really, but they told me they want you to tell them you’re staying at your best friend’s house,” you open your mouth to question why but his grip on your waist tightens and he looks down at you angrily. “Don’t question us y/n, you know your parents and I know what we’re doing. Were the adults, you’re just a child, understand?” 
“Yes, Sir.” You nod, not wanting to upset him when he’s always so good to you.  
“Good girl, now finish your lunch sweetheart—no stay on my lap I make sure you eat it right.” 
Gojo glances at the nightstand, ensuring his phone is set up before he looks back at you. Rose petals underneath, nipples puckered, and eyes crossed you look like an angel. His angel. 
“Sir! I-it feels weird down there—I think I gotta pee.” Your pussy clenches around his fingers. 
“Just let it happen, princess,” He curls his fingers into your g-spot, his other hand going to rub your clit. Your legs start to shake, and you try to clamp them shut but Satoru’s thighs keep them in place. “Don't—That’s it, let go, let it happen.” 
You never knew what it was like to orgasm, Satoru has only told you what it would be like, but this—this—you could get used to the way your pussy contracts on your teacher’s fingers and your mind goes blank. 
Your hands fly down to his wrists once it’s over, suddenly overwhelmed. 
“S’too much ‘Toru, please no more!” You cry out, another mini orgasm washing over you.  
“Gotta prep you—get you wet enough for my cock sweet girl,” he takes his fingers out of your cunt, and your juices following in suit. “Think you’re ready?” 
“Mhm.” You look up at him like he hung the moon and stars. Right now, if he told you he did—you’d believe him. 
He brings his wet fingers to your mouth, and instinctively you open your mouth. He shoves them in. 
“Can’t wait to see this small pussy take a dick too big, too old for ‘er.” He groans at the thought, pulling his now clean fingers out of your mouth to pull his boxers off.  
You gasp when you see it jump out. It’s huge, the tip is an angry shade of red, and his balls look ready to explode any second. You don’t think with all the prep in the world you could take it. 
“It’s too big, Sir.” you whimper, shyly backing away from him.  
“Don’t run away from me y/n, how many lessons does it take for you to get ‘Don’t question your elders’ through that little brain of yours,” he pulls you back, slapping your pussy. “C’mon now, didn’t you say you loved me?” He pouts, looking down at you with puppy eyes. Your heart clenches. 
“Course I love you—I can take it. I promise.” You grab his face, the one you’ve spent the last semester admiring from afar, and kiss him the way he taught you. 
“Yea?” 
“Mhm.” You lay back down and wrap your legs around his hips. 
He grabs his cock, the head soaked with your juices, and slowly pushes it in. You gasp from the sudden intrusion. His fingers did nothing to prepare you for his girthy cock. He pulls out again before pushing in, this time a few more inches. He repeats this movement until you're filled to the brim. He looks down and chuckles. Only two-thirds of his cock is in your too-small pussy. Blood trickles out the side of your pussy. 
“Hurts.” You cry. He looks up to see thick tears flowing down your cheeks. 
He thinks about comforting you, but he can’t get his mind off your tight pussy. He’s too worried about not cumming prematurely than comforting you.  
“Shh, it’ll feel better soon honey, just lay there and take it.” He starts to move in and out of your cunt. Using your blood as extra lube. 
You claw at his back from the overwhelming feeling of your pussy being stretched. Satoru grunts above you, sucking hickeys all over your breast. After the ninth thrust, you start to moan, the pain quickly turning into pleasure. 
“Sir! Feels s’good.” You moan.  
“Your cunt feels surreal princess, never felt anything like this, think I might need to fuck my students more.” He says into your neck, speeding up when his balls start to clench and ache with the need to release. 
Suddenly, you’re overcome with a surge of jealousy, the thought of him fucking the other girls when you leave for college, teaching them how to kiss, and letting them sit on his lap and eat lunch every day makes you want to cry and scream and the same time. He’s yours! He doesn’t get to fuck anyone else, nobody else should be bleeding on his cock and cumming on his fingers.  
“S’not fair! You’re mine, only mine!” You wrap your legs around his hips, pulling him impossibly closer to you, in you. 
“Then prove it little girl, show me that I belong to you.” He shoves his lips on your pouting ones. 
You throw your arms around his neck and buck into his hips, determined to show him that he only needs you. That you’re enough to satisfy all his needs. 
“Fuck, ‘m gonna cum deep in this cunny. Gonna fill you up—watch you get full with my baby and have to drop out of college before you even finish the first semester!” His thrusts turn sloppy, bruising your swollen cunt. 
“Yes, give me your baby Sir, please!” You moan, suddenly thinking about a life with him and a baby you two 've created. You’ve never felt so empty. 
“Please, please, need ‘ur baby s’bad!” You slur, legs tightening around his waist. 
“‘M cummin’ schoolgirl, ‘m fucking my baby into your too-small cunt.” Satoru groans, his balls contracting as he shoots his load into your womb. 
The sensation of being filled causes you to orgasm again, the world going blank for a few seconds.  
“Shit!” Satoru lays over top of you, the weight of him making you wheeze. You lay there silently for a few minutes, unable to form a coherent thought. 
“W-was that good?” you question when your mind clears, thinking back to what he said about fucking other girls. 
“Of course it was princess, best I’ve ever had.” He reassures all the while his mind is racing, thinking ‘bout the new girl that just transferred to your school. He kisses you as he places a bet with himself ‘How long would it take to get her breed full of his child too.’ 
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luffysscraps · 8 months
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Straw hats kinks;🔞
cw: Headcanons.NSFW.Smut.18+.Fem reader. Luffy’s a bit gross. (BUT IF YOU DONT LIKE HIM LIKE THAT THEN YOU’RE NOT A TRUE LUFFY FAN‼️‼️) Sanji cums on food.
Characters: Luffy. Zoro. Sanji.
Not proofread.
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-Luffy
• Hair pulling (Giving and receiving); he didn’t know how much fun it was to pull you down on his cock by your hair. Watching you try to get away from him and forcing you to look at him by your hair made his dick twitch. He also loved when you grasp his head when he’s going down on you. The feeling of your fingers gripping his hair harshly made him hard instantly.
•Excessive cum; Again he discovered this by complete accident. Even without using his devil fruit powers his balls are abnormally large and filled to the brim with cum. Doesn’t matter how long ago he was sucked dry they’ll refill within an hour. And with Luffy’s stamina he doesn’t even notice when he’s shooting blanks. But watching you fill up with his cum turned him on even more which resulted in him going longer creating an endless cycle of cumming inside of you. He likes to pull out slowly and watch the juices drip down his cock and onto the bed sheets; making a mess of your pussy.
•Spit; He’s so messy. His kisses are so sloppy. And he knows this, he often apologizes for his messiness but doesn’t do anything to improve it. So when he accidentally drooled over on top you he didn’t expect his cock to twitch so wildly. So (with your permission of course) he begins to spit on you more often. In your mouth; on your boobs; ass; pussy; face. Anywhere you’ll allow him to he does so. Hell he’ll even ask you to spit on him some times.
•Belly bludge; He loves placing his hand on your womb and, every time he thrusts feeling your skin stretch to accommodate his size. “Hmm~ I can feel myself inside of you~!” He’ll groan out with a laugh on the end of it. He makes it a game, placing his hand on your stomach as he’s trying to feel his tip with every thrust.
•Marking/Biting; He loves, loves, loves to leave marks on your body. By the end of your session you’re left with red and purple hickies and bites all over your body. He can’t seem to take his mouth off of your body, there’s something so addicting about having your soft skin in between his lips. A simple neck kiss often turns into a sex session because he’s so turned on by just sucking on your skin. (Although he does forget his own strength and ends up biting too hard sometimes.)
•Body crushing; “You can take it! Can’t you?” He giggles while he smothers you against the mattress. He loves the feeling of his weight on top of you. At first he used it as a way to restrain you and stop you from squirming but he soon began to enjoy the control he got from it. You can barely breath from underneath him, and your squirms were no more. There was something unexplainably sexy about you two being so close to each other that turned him on. He didn’t know what it was but now he loves to smother you against the bed sheets
•Bonus; He doesn’t mean to be so rough with you, it’s just that he doesn’t know his own strength and when he’s going at it, his mind runs blank more often then not. He’s not in control of his body and stretches his dick to reach your womb, trying to go beyond but it seems impossible. So he’s made it his goal to break through your womb! And he tells anyone who asks what his dreams are or goals. “My goal is find the one piece, become pirate king and break through Y/N’s womb!” He shouts in the middle of a heated battle. Sometimes you wonder why you love this idiot.
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-Zoro
•Throat fucking; Zoro often has you laid out on his bed in front of him. He spreads out your arms grasping both of them tightly. He positions himself at the entrance of your mouth and goes to town. He loves to grip your throat and feel the outline of his cock as he thrusts in and out of your mouth like his own personal toy. So warm; so wet; and don’t get him started on that tongue of yours. It’s something about your throat that Zoro loves (slightly) more then your pussy.
•Dacryphilia; When your eyes start to water and tears prick the corners of your eyes Zoro let’s out nothing but a moan. There was no concern for you. He loves watching the tears streak down your cheeks as you whine and cry about how his cock is too big and too much for you to handle. “What is it too big? Come on now Y/N~ I know you can handle it~” The power and control he feels from seeing your pathetic tears make his dick run wild.
•Breastfeeding; The man loves boobs, and he loves sucking on them too, this kink was a no brainer. He doesn’t know why but playing with your nipples and sucking on them gets his rocks off. He’ll get hard In seconds from just playing with them. Sometimes he’ll fall asleep with a nipple in his mouth.
•Cockwarming; Just like how he’ll fall asleep with your nipple on his mouth, he’ll fall asleep with his cock still inside of you. It feels at home just being inside your warm cunt. He loved spooning you and just shoving his cock into you without warning and falling asleep in seconds. It’s just so relaxing, feeling you squeeze him tightly in his sleep. He’ll stay like this with you for hours, but don’t be surprised when he wakes up and starts going to pound town without warning.
•Boxers; something about seeing you in his boxers makes him hard in a heart beat. Man sees you wearing his boxers and he is sprung. You look so sexy wearing his underwear, he can devour you in seconds if you come to bed wearing his boxers. The boxers being way too big for your figure; the way he can see the outline of your cunt. It drives him crazy. A simple nap together can turn into getting freaky in the sheets because of you wearing his boxers.
•Orgasm control; “listen to me. You can’t cum now. Don’t disobey me baby girl~” Again it’s the power going all to his cock. When he feels you squirm and your walls twitch he shakes his head “Ah, ah, ah. You’ve gotta hold it until I cum first alright?” His voice is so demanding and feeling your uncontrollable twitching go against his words causes him to smack your ass. “Bad girl~” he warned with a smirk.
•Breeding; The thought of knocking you up is just so enticing to him. Stuffing you full of his cum and watching you quake and shake makes his body feel so hot. And watching your baby bump and tits grow larger just turns him on so much. He’ll place his hands on your stomach and breasts every day, feeling them swell as the days go by, god it just makes him hard instantly. He’ll pump you full of cum every single night, he can’t help it he loves using your hole for hours on end.
•Bonus; not really a turn on, turn on. But Zoro finds it hot when his s/o is smarter then him. Say something smart, figure something out or lead him back to the crew and he’ll just stare at you with a devious smirk. He’s totally silent but that smirk on his face is all telling.
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-Sanji
•praise (giving and receiving); “you’re doing so well for me princess~ just a little more.” “What a good girl you are for me~” “fuck~ so tight. So good for me~ hmm~” with Sanji being Sanji, even if he can’t speak full sentences he’ll praise you to the ends of hell. But if you praise him back, call his cock big, tell him how good he’s fucking you, tell him he’s amazing and sweet to you; he’s hard again in minutes and you’ve earned yourself another round.
•Brat taming; My goodness, please, please, please act naughty and disobey him. It turns him on soooo much. If you tell him ‘no’, try to get away from him, or tell him something mean he’s quick to remind you who’s in control here. He’ll pin you to the bed like “uh uh uh~ Be a good girl for me, okay princess?” With a playful wag of his finger he’ll lightly scold you and act like what you did was childish before rightfully punishing you. Shoving his cock in your pussy before fucking you painfully slowly, and with your body pinned you can’t move at all. You’ll end up whining and begging for him to speed up, and only when you say please is when he’ll comply.
•Spanking; It goes hand and hand with brat taming. Be too naughty in one night and he’ll bend your bare ass over his knee. “Now you’ve earned yourself 20 spanks. I want you to count with each one or else I’ll have to start over.” He warns before he smacks your rear. He’s gentle with you, not too harsh but not too soft of course. He just wants you to learn a lesson. And when he sees the plush of your skin turning a soft red and purple it drives him wild. After the spanking is over he’ll kneed the bruised skin with a sly smile. Sinking his fingers into it to hear you whine and cry more.
•Bondage; He likes the restraining aspect of bondage. He likes to tie you up and restrict your movements. He’ll tie your hands around your back with just about anything he could get his hands on. A rope, a ribbon, his own tie. Loves to watch you squirm and cry, begging to be unrestrained but you’re at his mercy. It makes him feel like he’s in control, only he can let you go and only he can make you feel like this.
•Oral (Giving); Sanji LOVES to eat you out for hours on end. He’ll tie your hands behind your back and place his hands firmly on your thighs so you can’t move. He’ll leave a trail of kisses along your stomach before his head dips down to your wet cunt and his tongue does it’s job. He’ll have you ringing out orgasms on end. Not stopping from your whines and protests of overstimulation. He’ll go until your clit is sore and your pussy aches. He loves eating you out, your juices are simply delicious. He loves feeling your thighs squeeze his head, he swears he can cum just from your noises and the action of his tongue sliding in and out of your slick.
•Food play; Sanji often treats himself with a snack late at night and that’s you. He’s brought whipped cream and hot fudge to the bedroom and you’re his plate to decorate. He’ll tie you down to the bed and spread whipped cream on your sensitive nipples, a trail of hot fudge runs down to your pussy and cherries on top to garnish the dish. He makes you a work of art before devouring your body. As he eats you up like no tomorrow you can feel his hard on pressed against your inner thigh. You’re just the best dish he’s ever had, how can he not get hard?
•Bonus; “I’ve made you a special dish tonight my love.” Sanji beckons as he enters the bedroom holding a plate. You know exactly what that meant and hummed softly laying down on the bed. “It’s a chocolate eclair, made with Love~” He sung happily taking a piece of it up with his fork and putting it to your lips. You could see the runny, milky-clear, liquid of his sperm sitting on top of it and you gladly ate it and you could see the exact second his cock gets hard in his pants.
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deadsetobsessions · 3 months
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It takes a lot to break a ghost. After all, even death didn’t keep them down for long, not in any way that mattered.
There is, however, a sure fire way to utterly crush a ghost’s core without even touching it.
Find their grave, and defile it.
It is the height of cruelty. It is the ultimate act of disrespect. It is violation, of the deepest kind, an act that can never, ever be allowed to go unpunished.
As Danny stared at the remains of the toppled over rock tower that Tucker and Sam had made for him all those years ago, to honor his death, he wasn’t sure if he could survive this.
——
Please.
Zatanna looked around. The magician knew better than to write off the sound as a trick of her mind.
You have to help him. Please. He’s just a child.
“Who? What’s wrong?” Zatanna asked, heart aching for the grieving whispers of the young voice.
My brother. His grave. It’s been destroyed. Please.
Zatanna’s hair stood on ends. “What’s his name? Where is it?”
Amity Park. His name is Phantom. Please. Hurry.
Her heart skipped a beat. Phantom. The name of the Infinite Realm’s Champion, the future king.
“Shit. I’m on my way. Can you lead me there?”
I can’t. I won’t be here for much longer. Tell him Jazz sent you. Please. Help him. Help him.
“I will.”
When Zatanna portals out of her dressing room, she catches a flash of red hair.
——
“CONSTANTINE!”
“Gah! Zatanna?” John Constantine fell out of his chair, legs slipping from their place propped onto the table.
“Emergency! Infinite Realms level. Someone destroyed Phantom’s grave.”
Constantine scrambled upwards, pulling on his coat as his mind all but bleated like a highland goat at the sound of “Infinite Realms” and “Phantom’s grave.” Destroying a ghost’s grave might destroy the ghost, but if they survive the initial splintering, right before their final death, they’ll explode in a ball of fury. Normally, it would be slightly less of a problem. Normally, it wouldn’t be the most powerful ghost in the Infinite Realms. Normally, this wouldn’t happen. Normally, even if it did, it wouldn’t risk a war none of the universes would win. The Infinite Realms loves prince Phantom. Their grief over this… even if he survives, the consequences would be unimaginable.
“You contact the League. I have to go fix this, right now.”
John doesn’t bother going for his hottle, because he unfortunately needed to do this sober.
“Go, go!”
——
Danny doesn’t turn even as he hears the crunch of grass blades. He sits, staring blankly at what used to be his grave marker.
“Hi, there,” it’s a woman. She sounds sad. Danny understands, because all he feels is a whistling hole where his heart used to be. “Are you Phantom?”
Danny sighs, ice crackling at his lungs. He knows, when this is over, he’ll find it in himself to rage. If he doesn’t shatter from this, he knows he’ll take Amity out. Perhaps he’d spare this one. It’s been a long time since anyone bothered visiting or even knew about his grave.
“Your highness…your sister sent me. Jazz?”
That got Danny’s attention. Glowing green eyes peeked from the curled ball of ghost to stare Zatanna down.
She swallowed.
“She… had red hair?”
“Why are you here?” Why did she send you? He doesn’t say. Zatanna seems to understand anyways.
“To help. Please, will you let me help?”
Danny looks down at the ice freezing her feet to the ground and thinks of the kind set of her eyes, the steel backing her spine, the carefully nonthreatening posture. Yes, Jazz would send this kind of person to help him.
The ice melts.
“Thank you.”
Danny watches as she approaches his destroyed grave. She glances back for his permission. He shrugs. It’s destroyed. Nothing would ever bring it back.
And then, he was proven wrong.
Zatanna’s eyes glow, and the stones began melding itself back together- no, it was reversing the damage and zooming back to its proper place.
“Oh.”
The damage to his core was still there. But… he won’t kill this one at all.
Or her friends, who stand at the edge of the clearing with the soul-torn one standing at the helm.
“Is this… alright, your highness?”
Danny stares at Zatanna. His voice is hoarse but… but it’s not on the verge of insanity anymore.
“Do you always come to graves without an offering?”
He knows he’s being rude. He’s past the point of caring. Zatanna’s response is to pull a bouquet of lilies from behind her back.
——
Phantom’s face is so young, and it’s even younger when he smiles.
“Not always,” Zatanna replies, rolling her eyes. But when she settles the flowers down, they’re gently placed.
“Can you magic clovers around it?” Phantom asks, that note of painful hope cracking her own heart. She wonders how old he was when he died.
“Of course.”
A field of clovers surrounds the rock tower, and Zatanna adds four layers of heavy wards around the area when she grows them. Phantom notices, and looks up at her with… trust.
“I am Zatanna. Your sister, Jazz, sent me.”
“Okay. You can call me Phantom.”
——
“I want their heads.” Danny says.
“We don’t kill.”
“Then hand them over to us, for they have hurt the Great One. They will answer for their crimes.” Frostbite settles a hand on Danny’s shoulder.
“Alright.”
“Constantine.”
Constantine somehow manages to drag Batman away to hiss in his ears.
“Shit in a hole, Batsy, I’m not fucking with the Infinite Realms. My demons won’t fuck with the Infinite Realms. Destroying a ghost’s grave is an act of war, and an act of complete violation, and we’re lucky Phantom liked Zee enough not to completely bring ruin to our universe. So shut up, and get the bastards that did this.”
“Hm.”
——
Zatanna sits in the visitors chair, Batman’s and Constantine’s disgruntled selves standing behind her.
“How old are you, Phantom?”
“Hm?” The future King looks exhausted, understandably. “Oh, sixteen.”
“You’re… sixteen? That’s how old you look, right?”
She’s hoping that he’s older, that he’s a millennia and a half years old. Because if he wasn’t, whoever broke Phantom’s grave, broke the grave of a child.
“No, I’m sixteen. My body looks fourteen. I died when I was fourteen.”
Constantine swears.
Batman straightens and walks out, fists clenched.
Zatanna eases the hum of hunting magic at her finger tips and smiles at Phantom until he sleeps.
Then, she gets up, and hunts.
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jj-one · 1 month
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STRAY KIDS + POSSESSIVENESS ! 🩹 ⋅˚₊ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅
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this is smut, do not interact if under 18
pairing: dom!skz x sub!fem!reader, established relationship, husband!changbin bc why not ? genre/tags: smut, angst, fluff (tbh it's only changbin's part), jealousy, exhibitionism, voyeurism, lots of degradation, mentions of crying, marking, manhandling, bondage play, piv, unprotected s*x (do not try this at home kids), public s*x, rough s*x, fingering, nipple play, oral (f & m receiving), t*tty slapping, multiple orgasms, edging, choking, bulge kink, slight breeding kink… am not mentally ok for writing any of this words: 3.4k
**old repost from my deleted blog
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BANG CHAN. His patience was a level of no other. The man just watched you flirt with his friend and didn’t mutter a single word. All the while you kept boasting about how good Changbin’s muscles looked and the movement of his biceps were leaving you in complete amusement.
Pissed off doesn’t begin to describe what he’s feeling right now. He clears his throat,
“Are we done y/n? I think it’s time we head home now.”
The tone of his voice was cold, icy like a winter storm.
The lump in your throat was stuck. You knew how much in deep shit you were for this and his silence was the main indicator.
You could feel his piercing eyes on you the whole time.
It wasn’t long before you’d end up in this position. Both arms were locked above your head by his strong hands. The tight grip he kept around your wrists was definitely going to leave some bruising.
“You’re such a dumb slut. Did all this just to get me like this huh?” His cock hitting your walls aggressively as you spasm and shake under him.
“All this to get me to fuck you the like the dumb little cockwhore you are?” He growled, “can Changbin fuck you like this?”
His pace was relentless. His cock stretching you open with each deep thrust. His harsh words cutting into you like a dagger. Your mind was blank, head full of Chan’s cock. You had to answer him though, or else he will stop.
“N-no Chan only y-yours… only you can fuck me like this!”
A smirk creeps up his face from your quavering voice. He leans forward, his lips brush over yours as if almost to kiss you but doesn’t.
“I own you y/n. Only I get to have to you, understood?”
All you feel is his cock slamming into you. The slapping sounds becoming a melody of a beat, your heart was racing a mile a minute.
“Understood.”
LEE KNOW. He hates when you act out in public. The way you tease him and get him riled up, knowing he can’t do anything about it. It gave you sense of power, you had the upper hand— for now.
You were wearing the shortest mini skirt possible, it barely covered your bum and you could feel a cool breeze slip through your crevices. You kept walking in front of him, swaying your little hips side to side, letting him watch you bend down to pick things up as he sneaks a peak under your skirt. The sight of the pink lace thong you wore was enough to make him grab you by the arm and yank you into a public restroom nearby.
Before you know it, you’re being devoured by your boyfriend. Sitting on the counter of the sink whilst he was below you, giving you a gaze that could snatch your soul. His digits sunk into your dripping cunt as he swipes his tongue across your slit. Your skirt was still on but pushed up slightly, your thong was also moved to the side.
“I can’t believe you’d go out like this and expect me not to control myself.” He rises up momentarily.
“You do this on purpose, knowing I don’t want other people looking at you.”
He laps up your juices and coats it with his face, scissoring you open with his fingers.
“Fuck… I wore this for you Minho— w-wanted to look pretty for you.” Your eyes were tightly shut, feeling the euphoria as you were close to your orgasm.
He abruptly pulled his fingers out of you, thrusting your hips in the air now, you whine for stimulation.
“Will you be a good girlfriend for me and cum on my tongue kitten? I want you to scream as loud for me as you can, I don’t care who hears it.” Minho was dead serious. He doesn’t care you both are in a public restroom and there’s people casually walking by. He wants everyone to know you are his.
You nod and agree to be on your best behavior for him. You know he will most likely reward you for this in the end.
“I promise, I’ll be a good girl Minho.”
Feeling your body heat surge as he inched closer to your core, pressing his tongue at your entrance. He tongue fucks you viciously while never breaking his eye contact with you.
Feeling yourself come undone from the surreal pleasure, all you want is to feel your release.
You thrash and moan as you cream on Minho’s tongue, your legs felt like jello when you climax. You let out multiple gasps for air, feeling as though you just ran a marathon.
Minho hasn’t left between your legs yet, his face still in a headlock. He wasn’t quite finished with you just yet.
“You can give me one more, right kitten?”
CHANGBIN. Being a newlywed couple felt like a fairytale dream come true. He felt incredibly lucky to have you as his wife and doesn’t stop reminding you how happy he is. He’d shower you with a beacon of compliments that would melt your heart each and every time.
You went on another vacation right after the honeymoon and it felt like paradise. That was up until a small incident occurred, it happened when you were at the pool with your husband. One of the pool goers at the resort couldn’t keep their eyes off you. You wore a sexy one piece that had cut-out details on the sides to show off your waist but you wore a sheer cover up over it.
Changbin noticed straight away the eyes that were glued to you, the eyes that were glued to his precious wife. He was livid. Almost causing a scene, he went up to the perverted man that was eye fucking you and gave him a piece of his mind. In utter disbelief of what was unfolding in front of you, you go up to Changbin to calm him down and get him to stop before he ends up actually doing something he’ll regret. His face burned crimson from anger but the sound of your voice brought him back to reality.
Things were much better in private now. Much better. Sitting on your husband’s lap in the jacuzzi bathtub felt so relaxing, his hands roamed your naked body as he placed chaste kisses all over you. He stopped at your neck to give it more attention, nibbling on a sensitive spot that made you sink right into his form. Moaning softly whilst his hands prance down to your back.
“I want to shield the rest of the world from you, only I get to gawk at my gorgeous wife.” Changbin says possessively, looking at you once he comes up from your neck.
You nod in agreement, “they can look but can’t touch!”
“No, they can’t even look, all of this is mine, mine, mine.” He plants a kiss to your cheek as his hand creeps down to your core. He prods your hole with a single digit, entering you with ease. You let out a soft moan as you part your lips slightly, bucking your hips forward. He pumps his finger into your wetness as he looks deeply into your eyes, nothing but burning desire in his pupils. He brings his thumb to your clit and rubs it in a steady motion, your swollen nub feeling overstimulated from his touch.
“This is just the beginning my love, I’m not done with you until the sun comes up.” He whispered in your ear as he drags his tongue against your earlobe. In just the jacuzzi alone, he’s made you cum several times from his fingers. Oh how those magical fingers always do wonders on you..
HYUNJIN. The room was pitch black, your vision completely impaired from the blindfold attached to your head. Your hands were bound to each other, behind your back being tied by a thick rope. You had nowhere to go and the room was pure silence, naked and touch starved, you whine for Hyunjin to do something but you were met with no answer. He was standing over you on the bed but you were unaware of any of your surroundings.
The man finally spoke, “This is what happens when you try and make daddy jealous.”
You can feel his hot breath on your neck, the sensation making you crave him even more.
Hyunjin was always the possessive type, was constantly in need of reassurance if he felt his ego was being bruised. This was situation was no different, he needed to remind you that he was the one who owned you.
He brought finger to your perked nipple, gently dragging it across to tease you a bit. A white-hot charge sent through your body as you finally felt his touch. Dripping in a puddle of your own slick from the dirty thoughts racing in your mind, he continues lightly tracing your hardened nipples; eliciting low moans from you.
Your senses were heightened from the way you weren’t able to see anything, any little touch from him making you squeal from shock.
“You like this don’t you?” He says in a condescending tone, he belittles you some more. “So pathetic, look at you. Can’t do anything but take it, so fucking helpless.”
Hyunjin loved seeing how weak you become under him, the power dynamic being completely imbalanced right now. All you could do was moan out for him, practically begging him to do more but you know he’s going to take his time with you.
“Gonna make you squirt all over this bed for me.” He says, “Won’t stop until I have you screaming and begging for mercy, which I will never give you.”
The smirk on his face was devilish, he was conjuring up the perfect plan to ruin you indefinitely.
“Hyunjin, please fuck me… please.” You push your thighs together to feel some friction but Hyunjin gets mad at this action instantly.
He brings a harsh slap to your left tit, making you jump up a bit but your body couldn’t move properly from being tied up. Your legs went back to it’s original position, spread open for him so he can get a glimpse of your dripping cunt.
“Don’t ever tell me what to do, I make the rules now.” He palms your breast and kneads it excessively.
“You are my property.”
HAN. If jealousy was a disease Han would be the first one to catch it. He really loves yet hates the fact that he has such a smoking hot girlfriend that everyone wants. He knew it wasn’t going to be easy dating you but the way some of these other guys would look at you was about to become his villain origin story.
You were so oblivious to anyone who attempted to flirt with you, you only had eyes for your man but it was hard to convince Han otherwise. The pizza delivery guy complimented how pretty you looked and when you handed him the money to pay for the food, you accidentally gave him a ten dollar bill instead of a twenty, he didn’t even care he just smiled and continued talking to you.
That’s when Han knew he had to butt in, he was listening from the couch and he knew he shouldn’t have let you be the one to answer the door. Quickly he comes up to you to wrap his arms behind you, keeping you in a tight hold as the pizza guy looks mortified now.
“You can leave now,” Han says to him in a harsh tone, “We have important business to take care of!”
Slamming the door in his face now, Han comes up from behind you to take the pizza box out of your hands to place it on the table. Soon after, a heavy make out session between you would ensue.
As your naked bodies entangled one another, you feel yourself cinching around his cock from each inch as he slides it in. Your breath instantly coming to a halt as the end of his cock crashed into your cervix. He moves with his ass up in the air as he buries his length deep inside you, the squelching sound of your wet pussy making him see stars.
“Fuck… so fucking tight for me.” Han says sounding pussydrunk off the way you feel around him.
You fall into a frenzy as he pumps his length into you harder, pounding into you like no tomorrow. The bulge of his cock could be seen inside you, moving in and out of you intensely. Grinding your hips to match his pace, you rub your clit to feel more stimulation.
“You’re so fucking hot my God…” He cooed, tiny beads of sweat now forming on the sides of his face. “Your pussy was made for me and me only…”
“Only I can make you feel this good.”
FELIX. He felt sick to his stomach whenever he saw someone else looking at you. The way people would look at you in public when he was with you made him feel beyond disrespected. This is exactly why he doesn’t bring you anywhere because his fragile little ego will be crushed as soon as another person laid their eyes on you. He couldn’t deal with it anymore, he just had to do something about it.
You were at a public park but the park was so big that it was easy to hide and go unseen behind some bushes.
Felix brought you to a secluded area and told you get on your back, you do as he says and he looks at you with the most evil grin on his face.
“I’m going to fuck you so dumb right here, right now.” Felix says in a raspy deep voice, “I will let everyone exactly know who’s bitch you are.”
You gulp once you feel his hands all over you, you wore a black slip dress which drove him absolutely mad.
“Gonna make you pay for getting me worked up like this.” You felt so small when he spoke like this to you, the sticky mess in your panties was only growing as you feel his hands go up your thigh.
“Too stunned to speak sweetheart?” He asks, giving you an alluring yet mischievous smile. You have no idea what this man has for you in store.
“N-no, I can speak-“
“Shut up.” He quickly cuts you off from saying more. “I’m the one talking right now, you sit back and take what I’m going to give you.”
You did exactly as you were told and lay back for him. He quickly unzips his pants and frees his cock from his boxers. You look at the red tip of his angry cock, the sight of his raging erection was enough to make you feel a tingling sensation in your heat. His cock would plunge into you nice and slow but once he bottoms out he’ll quickly pick up his pace, fucking into you menacingly. He brought a hand to your neck and squeezed the shaft of it tightly, you gasp for air as he choked you but it wasn’t unbearable. You close your eyes to the feeling, letting yourself be fully immersed into him. Each thrust he gave you felt like bliss as he roughly held onto your hip, fucking you like a complete maniac.
“Gonna dump all my cum into your slutty little body,” Felix continued,“you’re my fuck toy, only I get to use you.”
SEUNGMIN. Usually something like this would never get to him. However, today was different, very different. Seungmin almost went ballistic when he found out that some guy asked for your number while you were out shopping at the supermarket. He often goes everywhere with you but you were getting off work and went straight to the store to grab some things for dinner. That’s when it happened and you told Seungmin as soon as you got home. You thought he’d just laugh it off but he frowned, disproving of that guy’s actions.
“What a loser,” Seungmin says in an annoyed tone, “when they will learn to just leave you the hell alone?”
He wanted you all to himself, if he could lock you up forever and throw away the key, he probably would. Only letting you out when he tells you you can.
“They can try all they want Minnie but I know I belong to you at the end of the day.” You bring your arms around his neck and lean in to kiss him and he kisses you back passionately.
“Want you to say it for me again, who’s pussy does this belong to?” Seungmin was now relentlessly pumping two fingers in you.
“Y-yours Seungmin… yours!” You could barely get a coherent word out of your mouth.
“And who makes you feel the best?”
He wasn’t letting up on making sure you know that you fully belonged to him. “We can do this all day princess… I’m not going to stop until I’m satisfied.”
This was his fifth time edging you at this point, leaving you on the verge of an orgasm but would pull his fingers out once he notices your chest floating up. He’s being so evil to you right now, as if you it was your fault for what had happened in the supermarket.
“You, only y-you! You’re the best at making me feel so good!” You babble as he rapidly moves his fingers in and out of your gaping hole.
“That’s my good little girl, now keep taking my fingers and I’ll reward you soon okay?”
JEONGIN. “You’re such a filthy slut, you know that?” The motion of needy hips were bucking into you. Your head was kept in place, completely still, on your knees and on the verge of tears from your boyfriend’s words.
You knew why you were in this predicament right now. This was all your fault and you did it all for this exact reason.
You wanted to see Jeongin’s reaction to saying you think Felix was hot. You know he wouldn’t take that comment lightly since that was one of his best friends. You wanted to see how far you could test his limits.
“You wanna fuck my friends huh?” He grabs you by the hair and furrows his eyebrows to regain more focus onto you.
You couldn’t speak, all you could do was shake your head around him as he shoved his cock further down your throat.
“Can’t even talk with your mouth full of cock, what a dumb little whore you are.”
His cock hitting the back of your uvula, causing you to make a gagging noise. Streaks of saliva creep from the sides your mouth, the messy scenery underneath him was a heavenly sight indeed. You moan while sucking his cock, the vibrations making the hairs on the back of his neck rise up. He throws his head back and keeps a tight hold on your hair, gripping you with everything he had. He thrusts his hard length into you viciously, the gurgling noises you were making whilst he fucks your face sounds harmonic to him.
“Shit…think I’m gonna cum soon” he muttered, letting out a groan as he kept pushing your face into his cock. “Yeah… just like that fuck… that’s it.”
A stream of tears came running down your face as you continued. You can feel his veiny cock twitch against your tongue as you felt hot spurts of cum fill you up now. You swallow each and every drop and milk him clean like the good girl you were. Opening your mouth wide to show it was empty he grins viciously and taps his dick against your tongue.
“You’re the biggest fucking slut…” He pants heavily.
“My biggest slut.”
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angelsheartts · 26 days
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୭ JEALOUSY ˚. ᵎᵎ ~
#pairing : lucifer, adam, alastor, angel dust, husk, valentino, vox, x gn reader.
#cw: jealousy?, +18 in valentino's/vox's part, suggestive content ig, cuss words lmao.
#notes: u guys don’t know how much i wanna know why lilith made a deal with adam, and how could she even fumbled lucifer.
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⋆.ೃ- LUCIFER .
i don't think lucifer gets jealous easily, at least, but if he is jealous, he will surely become reallyyyy clingy and will try to show off. i mean, he's the sin of pride, after all.
being the partner of the king of hell really meant that there would always be people staring at you, even ones who had no shame at all and would flirt with you, sometimes even in front of lucifer.
"would you mind if I bought you a drink, sweetheart?" a powerful overlord asked you, making lucifer raise an eyebrow and look at the overlord with one of his annoyed characteristics expressions, and before you could even reply anything, lucifer had already bought you both the whole menu of drinks while clinging onto you. "do you think this is enough for you, (name)?" he asked, making the overlord stop bothering you both and making you gasp a soft sigh, knowing he did all of this with such an innocent face, as if he wasn’t getting annoyed just a second ago.
⋆.ೃ- ADAM .
his ego is too big for him to even consider the idea of being jealous, but boy, does he want to get rid of the fucking asshole who is talking to you.
even though you were adam's third wife/adam's first husband, you were nice to being around. not like your husband, who always made snarky comments about everything and everyone.
sometimes, though, people would flirt with you without you noticing, making your husband really irritated and dragging you away while flipping off the angel who initially flirted with you and making some snarky remarks about them. "(name), that bitch was literally fucking you with his eyes! you should have called me before, next time make sure to be around me, got it?" adam called out, making you giggle since his insults were sometimes so unexpected.
⋆.ೃ- ALASTOR .
alastor is the kind of guy who wouldn’t get jealous; maybe once an extermination you would see him acting a little possessive over you, but really, this guy knows your soul belongs to him, so why would there be a need to feel jealous?
actually, only your friends at the hazbin hotel where the only ones who knew about your relationship with alastor; it made sense, since he knew you could get in danger if someone else found out.
that didn’t meant that angel dust wouldn’t take the opportunity to flirt with you as a joke while trying to get a reaction from you. "(name), i think you would get pretty popular if you started to appear on my films" he said jokingly to you, while alastor just looked at him with his usual smile "i don’t think that (name) would want to get involved in that kind of stuff, angel dust, isn’t that right, dear?" alastor answered, kissing your cheek, and leaving you speechless since he mostly kept his affection for when the both of you where alone.
⋆.ೃ- ANGEL DUST .
for me, he may get jealous depending on who's hitting on you; if it’s some random imp, it won’t really bother him; he will just tell them to fuck off themselves and leave you alone, but if it’s someone like valentino, oh boy, he acts VERY different.
angel dust didn’t really like you being in the porn studios were he works, because he knows that valentino is waiting to say anything to you, and because he simply thinks you don’t belong in a place like that. he thinks you’re much better working at the hazbin hotel or wandering around the pride ring.
"(name), aren’t you a supportive one? you know that if you want, i could make you a star lik-" "val, we're on set soon" angel dust spoke, looking angrily at valentino. "well, looks like your little boyfriend doesn’t want me to talk to you; i’m sure we’ll have plenty of time the next time," valentino whispered, making you stand there awkwardly.
as you both were finally at the hazbin hotel, anthony asked you not to come next time, since he really didn’t want valentino talking to you ever again. "(name), you know i really don’t want to get you in trouble, and you know that outside of the studio we can do whatever the fuck we want, but still, thanks for the snack you brought." he said, smirking, and letting you cuddle into his arms like you always do after an exhausting day.
⋆.ೃ- HUSK .
husk would only get jealous or, well, mostly, frustrated if someone interrupted you both, like if you both are just having a wholesome moment and someone just steals your attention from him, he’s a cat after all AND will be grumpy afterward.
you were having a nice chat with husk while having a drink at his bar, but as he was explaining you something, alastor came along and asked you something between the lines of 'if you had seen charlie or vaggie' since he had to talk to them about some business about the hazbin hotel.
after alastor left, you turned to look at your partner, noticing how he had been growling this entire time. it wasn’t really loud, though. "tsk, that radio demon really needed to ruin the atmosphere," he said, making you give him a look "what? you know, i dislike the idea of him thinking that he can just do whatever he pleases with my stuff." hearing your partner's words, you knew you had to reassure him that even though alastor had interrupted you both, your attention was still set on him and no one else.
⋆.ೃ- VALENTINO .
he’s valentino, he surely and kind of obviously gets jealous whenever you’re talking to someone that isn’t him.
the workers in the studio know that since you worked there, you've only filmed with valentino; nobody questions why, and nobody really cares whatever reason their boss has to not let you fuck with others.
today, though, a worker intended to jokingly flirt with you. "(name), i think that if we make a video together, even the most pure souls would want to watch it" oh, well, that wasn’t even a little funny to valentino.
"such a slut for me, mmh? you really thought my sweet (name) would even think about fucking with you?" valentino smirked, while thrusting into you. he had his eyes set on the demon who flirted with you, not even caring about the fact that he was on set.
⋆.ೃ- VOX .
this man has the same jealousy problems, or even worse, than valentino. he's actually such an attention whore, so he obviously would despise everyone who tries to flirt with you.
actually everyone who works for the vees knows how jealous vox is, and that’s because this is a situation that often happens: if someone is even looking at you a little longer than usual, he will become insecure and try ANYTHING he can so he can have your attention on him. like i mentioned, he’s an attention whore.
today, the outfit that velvette chose for you might have made some people stare back at you. i mean he can’t judge them; you looked so fucking good in it, but hell does he want to have you all by himself, so what does he does? take you to his office so he can have you all by himself.
"(name)," he mutters while keeping his hands all over your body. "you knew what you were doing, huh? making everyone stare at your body, but i’m such a good partner for not making a fuss about it, right?" he asked, waiting for you to atleast praise him, 'cause like a already mentioned he’s an attention wh- lmao.
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sttoru · 8 months
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𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐌𝐄 𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐄
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⟣ sypnosis. everyone has their own fetishes and things they get turned on by; some things being very random or specific—naturally, your lover has his own. what are random / mundane things you do that he gets turned on by?
⟣ note. uhh kinda a thought i had back in the days of my old account + from this post & now i just wrote it out . . . hope you all enjoy. this post contains smut, proceed at own risk !
⟣ tags. dom!gojo, geto, toji x female reader (separately). headcanons + drabbles. smut. (over)sexualisation. gojo: m! masturbation, implied blow job, dirty talk, reader gets called ‘baby, princess’, teasing | geto: teasing / edging, dirty talk, breast play, dry humping, implied breeding, degradation if you squint, reader gets referred to as ‘wife(y)’ | toji: brat taming, pussy spanking, cunnilingus, teasing, dirty talk, reader gets called ‘doll, slut,’
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GOJO SATORU.
definitely the classical ‘sucking on a lollipop’. satoru himself doesn’t even know why he gets so turned on by the sight of the candy disappearing between your plump lips—it’s not that he likes it when just anybody’s enjoying a lollipop either—only when you do it, it’s a complete turn-on. it’s ridiculous that you have that much power over him honestly.
since satoru’s been dating you, he’s discovered so many things about his body that he never even knew of; new feelings, new emotions, new. . kinks and fetishes. there’s just something about you eating a lollipop (or actually any kind of food that you need to suck on) and he’s already having a difficult time hiding his hard-on. he swears that he’s never found that innocent thing ‘hot’ before;
will try to play it off—try to ignore it, but naturally, fails at this. you can easily see the changes in his expression and actions.
satoru shifts in his seat on the couch, eyes trembling as they didn’t know where to focus; the show playing on the tv or you, who’s next to him, suckling on a lollipop like it was the best meal you’ve eaten.
“is it good, princess?” satoru asks in hopes of distracting his perverted mind from going any further. you turn your head towards him and nod, taking the candy out of your mouth with a faint ‘pop’ sound, “mhm. very.”
it’s like you knew — the way your eyelashes flutter, your glistening lips parted into a sly smile, tongue sticking out to slowly lick the sweetness and circle around its surface to get every last drop of that strawberry taste. just like the way you would tease his tip—
satoru shakes his head as if it’d help erase the mental image of you on your knees between his legs; get yourself together. she’s just eating a lollipop. there’s nothing sexual to that.
but he can’t help it. his body reacts on its own as the blood flows to his crotch, his boxers restrain the growing bulge and his cheeks turn a pink hue. his breathing pattern turns irregular as well; all clear indications of his arousal.
you were too preoccupied with your little snack and the tv-show to notice any of it. the distraction was perfect for satoru—he could palm himself through his shorts and you wouldn’t notice a thing. so, that’s what he decided to do.
his big hand sneak under the waistband, long fingers reaching far enough to stimulate his throbbing cock through the fabric of his underwear. it wasn’t long before you start to notice what was happening down there. satoru was never good at hiding such things from you.
“shit—sorry, baby.” satoru flashes you a weak smile after seeing your eyes land near his groin area, “you’re just so fuckin’ hot. . i couldn’t wait.”
he tilts his head back, warm breath coming out in small gasps whilst his hand motions continue. satoru was shameless at this point. he didn’t care if you knew—all you had to do was sit there, look pretty, have a lollipop in your warm mouth and he’d be able to finish himself off with no problems.
“need some help?” you chuckle, biting down on the ball of candy in your mouth and throwing the empty stick away somewhere on the coffee table.
satoru lets a whimper escape his lips at your suggestion. he wouldn’t say no to that, but it truly felt like he’d cum right in his pants from the idea. he can’t wait to hear those wet, suckling noises again—this time due to you sucking and licking something else than a mere lollipop. something way bigger.
“mhm, fuck, yeah. need ya to suck me off so bad—might cum the moment i feel those lips wrapped ‘round my dick, though. ya mind if i do? just don’t forget to swallow like a good girl, ‘kay?”
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GETO SUGURU
his ‘kink’ is simple: just you in an apron does unspeakable things to that man. suguru’s always knew that you’d be the one he marries, however every time you put on an apron to cook, the desire to make you his wife intensifies ten fold. you look absolutely adorable in it—standing near the kitchen counter whilst moving back and forth in your pink apron.
another thing about that which turns suguru on even more, is when he finds you in the kitchen after spending the night together, wearing only panties, his shirt and the apron. ‘easy access’, is what he likes to call it. his arms would find their place around your waist, clothed dick pressing and grinding against your ass from behind. next thing you know he’s pushing your panties to the side and fucking you good.
probably will dirty talk right into your ear whilst giving you that good, early sex session in the morning.
suguru sucks on your earlobe and digs his teeth in the soft flesh before pulling away, hands still feeling up your tits under the apron, hips deeply rubbing against the fat of your ass—just what you expected to happen once you put that apron on. his favourite one at that.
“look at you,” suguru purrs against your nape whilst leaving small pecks across the skin, “you’re going to be such a good wife and mother one day, sweetheart. and i want to be that lucky man that gets to call you his wife. .”
his words and touches were merely used as a way to divert your attention from your cooking. if suguru wanted to take you right then and there, he would. and he knew you’d allow it. you always do; you turn putty in his hands whenever he’s so loving like this in the early mornings.
“mngh, yes, please.. wan’ you so bad, suguru.” your voice is a quiet whisper as you bite back a moan or two. you couldn’t hold on any longer as the endless grinding made you crave for more. you push your ass back on the hard bulge you felt, gaining a grunt from the man behind you.
“impatient, hm? poor you.” suguru sighs before trailing two fingers downwards, pulling your panties aside while his other hand discards his boxers. he rubs the tip against your wet entrance, slipping the head in before pulling it back out to rub the mixture of fluids over your cunt—not yet giving you what you want, “you know, i was also thinking about how good you’d look in an apron while pregnant. with a little belly sticking out.”
the extended edging and dirty talk made your brain stop working as it turned all thoughts into lustful ones. all of them revolving around suguru and the pleasure you’re about to receive. you knew he was just giving you a small taste of what other nasty stuff he’s going to whisper in your ear later on. you can’t count how many times suguru’s made you cum from simply his lewd words and smooth voice.
“pl—” before you could start to beg again, suguru pushes his entire length in, the girth of his cock making you grip onto the counter like you’d fall over if you don’t. you bend over a bit and let your tummy rest against the cold surface.
“so submissive.” suguru whispers under his breath, watching you arch your back after he starts to pump into you. his hand trails across the knot made from the laces of the apron, which rests on your lower back. suguru twists the material around his index finger before firmly pulling you back by it—back flush against his chiseled chest, “so obedient. .”
it was only a matter of time before his slow thrusts turn into a quick and rough pounding. you could tell by the way his breathing was turning shallow.
“what do they associate those terms with nowadays? ah, yes, ‘wifey’ material. i feel like that describes you perfectly. fuck—i really can’t wait to make you my wife, put a baby in your tummy and start our own family. you’re going to look so beautiful pregnant. i’m sure of it.”
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FUSHIGURO TOJI
gets extremely turned on by you getting mad at him. toji found this out when you were upset by his habit of leaving laundry on the floor. he remembers how you stood there in front of him, blocking the tv from his sight, hand on your hip, finger pointing at his chest with that cute little frustrated expression plastered on your face. for some reason, it made his dick twitch in his pants. the urge to fuck that scowl right off that pretty face of yours was undeniable.
toji would be so calm whilst you’d almost lose your mind at his laid back, or actually, lazy demeanour. like he isn’t taking you seriously at all when you’re mad (he actually isn’t; his mind is too busy thinking about the positions he’s gonna have you in later that day).
idle ‘mhm’s’ and ‘yeah’s’ are all you’re going to get out of toji if he’s seeing you look at him with that adorable pout again—that almost unnoticeable pout you have when you’re upset about something.
“honestly, toji. you could’ve washed this yourself instead of waiting on me to finish the dishes and then put your dirty cup and plate in the sink.” you sigh and reluctantly wash his dirty utensils as well, even though you were in the midst of scolding him.
“it’s really annoying, you know? when i think i’m done doing the dishes. . . .” bla bla bla bla.
well, that was moments ago—you trying to talk some sense into toji. somehow it ended up the other way around; you being put on your back on the nearby table, legs on either side of toji’s head, his tongue lapping up your leaking fluids, his rough fingers digging in the fat of your thighs.
“really thought ya could jus’ talk to me like that without any consequences?” toji sighs, his deep breath hitting your cunt making your muscles tense up, your thighs trying to close around his head. a harsh slap lands right near your clit which causes your hips to jerk up in surprise;
“aht aht,” toji scoffs and disregards any contact with your dripping pussy, leaving it be for the time being, “keep your legs open f’me. all the way or ‘m leaving ya hanging right here.”
you cooperate immediately and spread your legs again whilst your fingers tug at toji’s black locks. his sharp eyes travel from your cunt to your face and he exhales through his nose, almost in a mocking, breathy chuckle;
“bet y’re gonna sulk ‘n pout if i get up and leave again, eh?” toji grins and is almost tempted to do just what he said, simply to see you pout and get mad at him once more. he wants to play that game of patience, but he knows he’ll come out victorious after every round. you’ll be the first one to beg him for forgiveness for your behaviour.
“please, baby— ‘m sorry. sorry.” there it was. you caved in, your frown nowhere to be seen as your face was overridden by desire and need for the man kneeling before you. toji was too good at letting you forget all about your previous sour mood—his tongue working its magic on you was enough to put you under a calming spell.
“mhm. that’s what i thought.” toji hums and smacks your cunt again. this time it was done purely for his own satisfaction; to hear how wet you’re for him, how good he’s been eating you out for the past couple minutes. but most importantly—to make sure you knew who held all power in the end.
toji leans his head down and lets the tip of his tongue glide across your vulva, circling right around your entrance to drive you insane. you could feel him smirk against your cunt in victory;
“ya know, i should make you angry more often just to turn you into a fuckin’ mess afterwards. mhmmm—wanna see that cute tough act ya put on fall apart the moment i put my dick in y’r cunt. gonna have you go from acting like a brat to a slut in under a minute, you jus’ wait and see, doll.”
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sabersandsnipers · 7 months
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Drabbles: Caregiving
Featuring: Astarion, Gale, Halsin, Gortash
Inspiration courtesy of @creativepromptsforwriting
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Astarion
To put it lightly, Astarion is a mess after killing Cazador. And who can blame him? After returning to camp, he simply sits and dissociates. His hands tremble. The only solace he finds is when you’re near. 
Still covered in blood, you ask his permission to clean him up. He simply nods, his eyes staring at nothing. You grab a damp cloth and begin gently wiping away the dried blood. He leans towards you, hoping your presence itself can protect him from the trauma that keeps surfacing in his mind. 
You notice his pants are still stained with blood as well. You gently cradle his face to get his attention. 
“Do you need help changing?” 
He doesn’t say anything but the look in his eyes is enough to assure he needs help. You lay him down and help him out of his soiled clothes. You quickly grab his night clothes, pulling his shirt over his head and helping him into new bottoms. 
After he’s settled, you turn to leave, but his hand shoots out to grab your arm. 
“Please stay.” His voice is strained. A deep ache blooms in you. 
You sit next to him on his bedroll, cradling him against your chest and whispering soothing thoughts to him for the rest of the night. 
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Gale
As skilled a wizard as Gale is, he can’t always prevent himself from getting sick. Confined to his tent, you took it upon yourself to care for him. 
As you brew some tea for him, he stretches out on his bedroll and watches you work. His heart warms at your worry for him. He really doesn’t deserve the care you’re giving him. He’s sure you have more important things to do. 
You pour the tea for him, crouching next to the bedroll. With barely enough energy to move, you have to help him lift his head to take a sip. You gently cradle the back of his head, bringing the warm liquid to his lips. 
He takes a small sip before laying his head down again. 
He licks the remaining liquid off his lips. “It’s good,” he says. The taste of it sends a comforting warmth through him, mildly numbing the ache settling in his bones. 
“I put a little something extra in there for you,” you tell him, winking. 
He lets out a breathy laugh. “Why am I not surprised?”
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Halsin
Halsin is always the one who wants to care for you. You’ve insisted time and time again to let you pamper him sometime. He works so hard for you, protecting you and making sure you never go to sleep hungry or cold. 
After scrounging enough gold to get a room at a nearby inn, you finally force his hand. He’s bathing in the wash room, and you sneak in while he’s scrubbing at his skin. 
He looks at you, a smile coming to his face. “Did you want to join me?”
You shake your head. “I was hoping I could wash your hair,” you tell him. 
He raises an eyebrow. 
“Please?” you insist. “You must be tired.” 
His shoulders slouch and he ceases his scrubbing. “Get over here,” he grumbles.
You rush over to sit behind the tub, leaping at the chance to help Halsin relax. You make quick work of wetting his hair, pouring a cleansing mix onto his scalp. Your fingers tangle themselves in his hair, massaging slowly.
“Hmmm, that feels good,” he says, voice low.
You smile, watching as the tenseness leaves his body. “Good. You deserve it.”
He leans his head back, making it easier for you to work your fingers through his long hair. 
You can’t help yourself. You lean forward to press a kiss to his neck. He turns to  you, a warm smile on his lips. 
Your heart melts just like the first time you saw it.
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Gortash
You straddle Lord Enver Gortash, his bare back laid before you. Your fingers dig into his tense muscles, earning moans from deep within him. He dearly needed a massage after an especially tiring day of ruling over Baldur’s Gate. The power of having him writhe beneath you is intoxicating. 
You lean down and start to press kisses to his lower back, slowly trailing upwards. He growls your name. A warning. You know if you continue to tease him he’s going to flip you onto your back. The thought thrills you. 
But you want to work out those big knots in his back first. He deserves to be taken care of before he takes care of you. You continue your work, rocking back and forth on your heels to gain momentum as you dig deep into his flesh. 
His moans rumble through your hands. You grin to yourself, looking forward to the moment where he gives you the pleasure you want in return. 
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callie-the-creator · 5 months
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sfw. warnings: obsessive behavior, slight stalking, jealousy, saiki uses his powers for selfish reasons, etc.
author’s note: oh, don’t mind me, just writing some headcanons if saiki was ever a yandere.
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• you and saiki first met in chūgakkō, junior high, but he didn’t fall in love with you until a few years later when you two were already in pk academy. maybe it’s all the accidentally bumping into him, dropping your papers and saiki being the one to help you pick them up, making awkward eye contact in class, hanging out with one another outside of school, or touching on the same snack you both are aiming for at either the vending machine or at the store... all the things somehow have you involved these recent days and saiki is less than impressed at first
• saiki has always stated time and time again that he personally does not think he will not fall in love, so he always watches others who are in love and help them if he can, but here he is…completely captivated by you of all people. he didn’t know why though, was the author just really that bored?
• good grief
⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹ ⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦
• let it be known that he does possess the power to alter your perception of him. saiki could always just make you fall in love with him just like that…but…what’s the fun in that? no, no, he wouldn’t dream of doing that to you
— however, since saiki was born with the uncontrollable ability to read the minds of all living creatures in a multiple-mile radius…he can read your mind, he knows all of your favorite things, what you dislike, your hobbies, and your address. he didn’t mean to at first, but he did find your thoughts and imagination fascinating. he even finds himself listening to you during class like you’re his favorite podcast
• saiki is crazily protective over you.
— there was a time where you nearly got mugged! and when i say ‘nearly’, well, let’s just say you should be grateful saiki was there to protect you. can’t you see that he’ll always be here for you in a time of need? he’ll keep you safe, but only if you see that for yourself…
• saiki doesn’t think he’s the jealous type, but he will stop any other man who has a crush on you by any means necessary by either relentlessly embarrassing them for the rest of the day or wiping you from their memory because only saiki can have you. no one else. he doesn’t care how many people he has to make forget you to become your boyfriend
• what’s that? you wish it was a sunny day in japan instead of a rainy one? don’t you worry about a thing! saiki will handle that for you!
• stalking you is almost child’s play to saiki since he has so many powers to ensure you don’t spot him — shapeshifting, teleportation, you name it! but this is a good thing because you don’t have to worry about him being an aggressive type of yandere
— if he is following behind you when you’re walking home, i do think saiki would change to his female self, so you would be less scared
• once the author made you bring coffee jelly to school and willingly give it up to saiki after seeing him light up at the sight of it, saiki knew that he just had to marry you
• he could, quite literally, turn the world upside down for you if it meant that you’ll be with him.
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