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xythlia · 2 years

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𝘉𝘌 𝘚𝘞𝘌𝘌𝘛 𝘛𝘖 𝘔𝘌, 𝘉𝘈𝘉𝘠 𝘍𝘛. 𝘓𝘌𝘝𝘐𝘈𝘛𝘏𝘈𝘕

- ̗̀໒ WARNINGS : TW FOR INSECURITY READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION. f!reader, angsty in the beginning, loss of virginity, teasing, nipple play, begging, fingering, oral, mating press, creampie, squirting

- ̗̀໒ WORD COUNT : 2k

req: can we get a insecure virgin reader + levi plz? if ur comfy with it can it go into feel better smut? I've read all your fics on ao3 and I'm obsessed I need more of your writings! xx

Your tears make him feel sick to his stomach.

It breaks his heart, seeing the glimmering saltwater welling and spilling down your cheeks in damp tracks. Your lip wobbles as you sniffle while your hands shakily grasp his forearms, further widening the canyon opening in his gut.

"Why are you upset?" His voice is soft, trying his best to be soothing and not spook you. The last thing he wants to do is make you feel like he's coming towards you confrontationally.

"I feel," you hiccup, "I feel like you just don't like me- like that." The way your words dissolve into more tears.

It's a helpless feeling, not knowing why you feel this way or what to do about it. He knows he has a tendency to get lost in something, tunnel vision on whatever new release is happening or whatever game he's immersed in, but to know he made you feel so unimportant in the process? He thought you could see through all that, but maybe he'd just assumed rather than ever have a conversation about it.

His mind is racing, tripping over itself as his own hands shake. How long were you carrying this feeling? He felt like a fool, he was a fool; shamelessly failing you.

Yet, he's doing it again, staying silent for far too long and falling inside himself, leaving you to crumple against your mattress. You push him away as he attempts to hold onto you, console you. Instead wailing, "Am I not what you wanted?"

You feel stupid, humiliated, just wanting the earth to open underfoot and swallow you into it's depths. Anything to get away from this feeling. You were human, and he's been surrounded by the most beautiful inhuman beings for eons how could you believe you could compare?

Softly he places a hand to your back, fingers stroking up and down your spine in a deliberately comforting manner. "I... You're everything I wanted. I want you all the time, always, I want to be with you every second of every day. I feel real jealousy towards the people who are with you in moments that I'm not," you hear the hitch in his voice, "I think you're the best thing that's been in my life."

His face is aflame by the time you turn around, no longer feeling the need to hide so urgently. Not when he's just made himself, finally, vulnerable to you. "Do you really mean that?"

He swallows thickly, but his eyes never stray from yours and his hand comes to tightly lace your fingers together against the mattress.

"I really do. I just... You know how sometimes when things feel like they're going really well, say a sunny day happened- you don't bother to check the weather," his voice becomes smaller as he squeezes your hand, "but when the sun's out at midnight, you should be checking. I should've checked on you. Should've been less selfish all the time. I'm sorry-"

His words are cut off in a low groan of surprise as you throw yourself against his chest, wrapping your arms around his neck and burying your face against his skin. "I love you, it's not all on you. I should've- I should've said something, even just once."

His arms come firmly around you as you continue, "I just... I just want you to love me, too."

"I do love you," he murmurs against the side of your head, pressing his lips there just for that moment of closeness.

"Why haven't you shown me?"

That gives him pause. "What do you mean?"

It almost stumps him, truly. He makes sure to kiss you, always be there with you when he can, helps you with anything you need-

"You never try, you know, touching me," your voice is suddenly shy. "Haven't you wanted to?"

His breathing almost stops as you grasp his wrist tenderly, clearly giving him the space to pull away and say no if he wishes, but he doesn't. Instead watching with bated breath as it disappears beneath your shirt, feeling your warm skin under his fingertips.

Even when you draw your hand away, his remains, gingerly moving upward over your belly before stopping, letting the curve of his thumb and index rest beneath the swell of your bare breast.

You hum in approval, gently tugging him down as you let yourself fall back against the bedspread and pull him into a heated kiss, full of sudden desperation.

You nip at his bottom lip while he draws his hand back down, only to tug on the hem of your tshirt, prompting you to prop up on your elbows as your chest is exposed to the evening chill. When his lips wrap around one of your hardened nipples your head tips back with a groan, enjoying the feel of his tongue sliding over the bud.

Quickly you become restless, whining and moving your legs in an attempt to accommodate your fastly dampening underwear. You can feel the nerves standing on end, making you squirm even more and cueing Levi to slide his other hand down past the waist of your pajama pants.

The tips of his fingers rest just before he'd reach your slick folds, making your clit pulse in anticipation. You're trembling, trying to gasp out how badly you just need him to touch you or you might go insane.

It could've been hours with how much he was teasing you, coming up to slide his tongue between your lips and dipping back down to alternate attention between your breasts. That hand, however, remained still inside your panties.

You rutted your hips brazenly, not caring for anything but relief now, but he evades it. Always managing to move his hand ever so slightly so as to not touch you. The pressure was reaching its boiling point, your clit ached so fiercely it left you with fresh tears gathering in your waterline.

Finally as your eyes meet, his fingers slide through your slick folds and you nearly sob at the sensation. The sticky noises as he slides two fingers inside you, prodding your warm walls, and keeping steady pressure on your clit with his thumb makes you feel lightheaded. Still, you don't look away from him.

He's drinking in every expression like a fine wine: your pupils blown out and glassy, lips moving in moans and whimpers, the flex of your neck muscles wishing to tip back.

The feeling in your gut is akin to a spring loaded coil, just reeling and reeling further back with every swipe of his thumb over your clit and every curl of his fingers. The sheer intensity of the environment between you two makes that coil suddenly snap, causing you to break eye contact and wail in ecstasy.

Your thighs shake and your hands come to claw at his back furiously, mind going numb as you feel your bottoms growing wetter the more you writhe in the pleasure high.

As your orgasm slowly dissolves, rose colored world coming into focus when you open your eyes, your legs still tremble with aftershocks as his hand pulls out of your bottoms. You're floating, delightfully boneless as he leans back and tugs them down your legs.

His mouth waters at the glossy mess between your legs, watching the way you throb around nothing. All thought ceases when he shimmies down on his stomach between your legs, warm breath on your thighs sending a shiver down your spine.

His tongue slowly rolls from his lips while you're stuck still, eyes unable to look away, before licking a fat stripe up your messy cunt. He holds your folds open before going back in, tongue prodding your entrance and making your eyes roll back in your head.

He's a panting, moaning mess as he devours you and there's nowhere else he'd rather be than between your legs. Lithe fingers brush against your clit once more, relishing in the way it makes you squeal from above. He presses his tongue flat against it, feeling overjoyed at the way it tears an even bigger reaction from your body.

Something shifts, he wants, no needs, all of you right now or he feels like he may very well die. That thought is what has him shooting up, tugging his pants off and letting his throbbing cock smack against his abdomen as it springs from his underwear. Quickly he shuffles back between your legs, sliding his cock in between your sloppy folds.

You reach down to hold your legs open, mind switched off and only chasing the base instinct for complete intimacy with him. Slowly he presses forward, rocking his hips slowly before his cock fully nudges inside you. Your legs spasm as it does, fighting against the overstimulation as you gasp out but don't call for him to stop. Slowly he slides inside you until your hips are flush, once again watching your expressions. You look like the picture of bliss, chest heaving with full breaths and adjusting to the new sensation of being full.

It nearly renders him shocked as you cup your breasts, kneading your flesh and your hips grind up so that you're using him.

He lets you, holding your hips for support because honestly it's the hottest thing he's ever witnessed. You getting yourself off with his cock, like it was a toy, sets his head spinning. Your moans rise and rise as your pace becomes messy, frantic. Your back arches and your pussy clenched around him so firmly it makes him draw in a sharp inhale. It's beyond beautiful, watching you completely lose yourself and fall apart on his cock.

In your pleasure chasing daze you stop holding your legs up, letting them fall sharply and he eagerly chases after you, folding your legs up and pounding into your hungry cunt while one of your hands fists in his hair. He's never had the privilege to feel something this incredible, hearing you chant his name like a mantra and the sound of skin slapping in some perverse harmony.

He's clenching his jaw, unable to take his eyes off you as he feels you clamp down once more. It's only slightly jolting to feel liquid spray his abdomen but it doesn't make him slow down, if anything it only encourages his thrusts to become deeper and messier before slowing. Relaxing into the feeling of your pussy and his cock throbbing in time while he fills you to the brim with warm, opaque fluid.

He's certain you could never doubt his devotion again after tonight, and he'll make sure to see you fall apart and to fill you up again and again from here on. It's a promise on repeat in his mind as you both slow, coming to lay still against one another as you catch your collective breath.

Gently you release your grip on his hair, fingers lazily sliding through the strands instead as he presses his ear over your heart, just enjoying the afterglow especially with such an intense series of events tonight.

"I love you," he whispers into your skin, arms sliding beneath you as he relaxes further against your body.

#obey me smut #leviathan smut #obey me x reader #leviathan x reader #obey me x female reader #om! leviathan #obey me levi smut #obey me leviathan #obey me imagine #obey me shall we date #om smut #x reader #꒰ঌꨄ︎໒꒱ kita writes

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hvnlydemon · 9 months

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Hi! I wanted to celebrate returning to writing after a super long break by post a few things I worked on while I was away! Especially with how the series ending left me feeling 😭

☆ armin/fem reader

☆warnings! angst, insecurity, nipple play, teasing, begging, vaginal fingering, oral sex, creampie

Your tears make him feel sick to his stomach.

"Why are you upset?" His voice is soft, trying his best to be soothing and not spook you. The last thing he wants to do is make you feel like he's coming towards you confrontationally.

"I feel," you hiccup, "I feel like you just don't like me- like that." The way your words dissolve into more tears.

It's a helpless feeling, not knowing why you feel this way or what to do about it. He knows he has a tendency to get lost in something, but to know he made you feel so unimportant in the process? He thought you could see through all that, but maybe he'd just assumed rather than ever have a conversation about it.

His mind is racing, tripping over itself as his own hands shake. How long were you carrying this feeling? He felt like a fool, he was a fool; shamelessly failing you.

His face is aflame by the time you turn around, no longer feeling the need to hide so urgently. Not when he's just made himself, finally, vulnerable to you. "Do you really mean that?"

He swallows thickly, but his eyes never stray from yours and his hand comes to tightly lace your fingers together against the mattress.

His arms come firmly around you as you continue, "I just... I just want you to love me, too."

"I do love you," he murmurs against the side of your head, pressing his lips there just for that moment of closeness.

"Why haven't you shown me?"

That gives him pause. "What do you mean?"

It almost stumps him, truly. He makes sure to kiss you, always be there with you when he can, helps you with anything you need-

"You never try, you know, touching me," your voice is suddenly shy. "Haven't you wanted to?"

Even when you draw your hand away, his remains, gingerly moving upward over your belly before stopping, letting the curve of his thumb and index rest beneath the swell of your bare breast.

You hum in approval, gently tugging him down as you let yourself fall back against the bedspread and pull him into a heated kiss, full of sudden desperation.

He's drinking in every expression like a fine wine: your pupils blown out and glassy, lips moving in moans and whimpers, the flex of your neck muscles wishing to tip back.

Your thighs shake and your hands come to claw at his back furiously, mind going numb as you feel your bottoms growing wetter the more you writhe in the pleasure high.

It nearly renders him shocked as you cup your breasts, kneading your flesh and your hips grind up so that you're using him

"I love you," he whispers into your skin, arms sliding beneath you as he relaxes further against your body.

#armin x reader #aot smut #attack on titan smut #aot x reader #armin arlet x reader #armin smut #armin aot #aot imagines #attack on titan x reader #🩷 hvnlysmut

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jesterwriting · 11 months

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Any chance you’d be willing to do some femdom with Sanji? Lots of mixing pain and praise pls? I’ll love you forever

pairing: sanji x reader

contents: dom!reader, sub!sanji, reader calls sanji good boy and pretty boy, sanji calls reader mademoiselle, leg humping, femdom, dacryphillia, reader slaps sanji and pulls his hair, sanji gets praised AND humiliated, sanji is naked, reader is fully clothed, there's like two mentions of feet and toes but its not foot fetish territory imo, reader kicks sanji in the balls once but hes into it so its fine

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI!!

word count: 1.2k words

note: okay so. i went a little crazy with this one. i think being dommed within an inch of his life would fix sanji and i had soooooo much fun with this request. thank you so much for sending it in <3

Lacing your fingers with Sanji’s blond locks, you carded your fingers through the soft strands with a small smile. His breathing was heavy, naked chest heaving under the force of it. Sanji’s eyes fluttered closed, leaning into your grasp with a content hum. You allowed him to enjoy your ministrations for a moment more before your grip tightened and you yanked him upward so that his face was inches from yours. He let out a gasp, thighs pressed tightly together at the rough handling.

“My pretty boy,” You crooned. Sanji was beautiful like this: completely naked and at your mercy. He was on his knees in front of you while you sat on his bed, clothed and wearing an expression of complete adoration. Even as tears made his blue eyes glassy, you didn’t let up your harsh treatment. Instead, you gave him a little shake. He let out the barest whimper. You fought the urge to give in and let him fuck you then and there, the only thing keeping you determined was the promise of a show you’d rather die than miss. “You can take it, can’t you? You’re always so good for me.”

Sanji nodded, a moan spilling from his lips when your fingers tightened and sharp, manicured nails dug into his scalp.

“Use your words, love.”

He swallowed hard, Adam’s apple bobbing as he wet his dry lips. “Anything for you, mademoiselle.”

“Good boy.” With that, you lowered him back down to his knees. To an untrained ear, Sanji’s sigh would have sounded like relief, no longer being held by his hair and finally back on the ground after a minute of suspension. You, however, knew better. Your sweet boy was disappointed.

You couldn’t have that.

Without missing a beat, you reared back and smacked him hard across the face. The sound of your palm against his skin reverberated through the room, nearly drowned out by Sanji’s groan of pleasure. His hips flexed, weeping cock bobbing as he thrusted into thin air. A puddle of precum had formed at your feet. You dipped your toe into the sticky fluid and wiped it on your boyfriend’s thigh, admiring the sheen of slick against his pale skin. He shivered under your touch.

“Did that feel good?” You traced his bottom lip with your thumb. “I love seeing you like this, all desperate and horny. It’s lovely. You’re lovely.”

Sanji whimpered in response. A purple bruise had started to form where you hit him. A beautiful bloom decorating him, proving that he was yours and yours alone. Your breathing hitched ever so slightly. Despite your act, you were not entirely unaffected. Your clit throbbed behind layers of clothes and your mouth watered at the thought of wrapping your lips around Sanji’s length. As if reading your thoughts, your boyfriend pawed at the buttons of your blouse.

“Let me see you, please. Your beauty is beyond compare, mademoiselle, don’t hide from me,” He begged. Though you both knew his nimble fingers could undress you in seconds, he was purposefully clumsy as he waited for your response.

With a small smile, you ground your foot into his crotch. Sanji doubled over with a gasp, his hands no longer preoccupied with your clothes, wound tight against your ankle.

“Why would I let a pervert like you see me naked?” Sanji whined when you leaned down to brush your lips against his forehead. Tears flowed down his cheeks, salty rivers you wanted to trace with your tongue. Instead, you wiped them away with your thumb. “You’re my boy, and I get to admire you as much as I like. You, on the other hand, have to wait. You can wait, can’t you?”

He sniffed thickly, nose clogged from crying. “I can wait, I can be good.”

With your nail, you pressed into the bruise on his cheek. Sanji squirmed, dick jumping, desperate for friction you hadn’t allowed yet. He looked so pitiful like this. The skin of his chest was stained a deep red from the chest up, with watery eyes, and plump, parted lips that screamed for you to capture them. You indulged yourself for a second, pressing yourself against him. Sanji met you, desperation coloring his every movement. The kiss was sloppy. Saliva, snot, and tears smeared your face as his tongue pressed against yours.

“You’ve been so good for me,” You praised when you pulled back, ignoring Sanji’s disappointed sob. He nodded in response and looked up at you from under his lashes. “Hands behind your back, pretty boy, I’ll give you something tonight, just like I promised.” You crossed one leg over the other, dangling your left leg off the bed until your toes touched the ground. “Go on. Hump my leg.”

The words barely left your mouth before Sanji was on you, trailing open mouth kisses along your clothed thigh as he dragged his cock along your shin. His whole body shook, his dick staining your jeans with precum as he rutted his hips against you.

You grinned. “You like that, don’t you? Humping my leg like a dog?”

Sanji let out a cry when you dragged your big toe down his heavy, cum-filled balls. “Yes, mademoiselle!”

“It’s so cute that you can cum from this.” His thrusts were sloppy and without rhythm. Blond hair was plastered to his forehead with sweat, his breath coming out in heady pants as he chased his release. “That’s it, how do you feel?”

Gasping, Sanji buried his face on your thigh. His words came out muffled. “S-So close, mademoiselle, I’m so close.”

You admired the curve of his ass, looking plump and delectable as he pistoned his hips against your leg. The entire scene was so pathetic, you were sure your panties were ruined. A part of you was surprised Sanji couldn’t see your slick staining the front of your pants, or maybe he was too preoccupied with himself that he hardly noticed. You loved seeing your boyfriend like this. He was always so attentive to you. Watching him lose himself to the bare minimum never failed to get you wet.

“Be a good boy and cum.”

Sanji threw his head back, his jaw hanging open and eyes clenched shut. Spurts of semen painted your shin as he ground against you, chasing the last, sensitive remains of his orgasm against your leg. The tip of his cock smeared cum into the fabric of your clothes.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” He repeated the words over and over again, even as his hips twitched and his body shook from the weight of his orgasm. Sanji’s body slumped to the ground. You caught his weightless body, dragging him into bed beside you so you could wrap your arms around him and rest his head on your chest.

“Feel better?”

Sanji laughed, boneless in your arms. “I’ll feel even better once I take care of you, my love.”

You laughed at his declaration. There was no way your boyfriend would be capable of moving for the next hour or so, unless a magic fairy came in and blessed him with the stamina of a workhorse. “What I want right now is to trace shapes into your back until you fall asleep.”

“But-”

“No buts, go to sleep.”

Too tired to argue anymore, Sanji snuggled deeper into your side. His only argument was a displeased sigh that you happily ignored.

“When I wake up,” He promised.

“When you wake up,” You conceded with a smile.

#one piece x reader #black leg sanji x reader #sanji x reader #sanji x yn #sanji x you #black leg sanji x yn #black leg sanji x you #one piece imagines #shout out to closer by nine inch nails and monster by lady gaga for turning me crazy while writing this #i literally got possessed and came to two hours later and this was in my word doc #.jesterwrites

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ghostsmybeloved · 2 years

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Always and Forever

Aether x Reader

Summary: Aether couldn't help, but fall in love with your human ways. Yet, he was a Ghoul and you were just a human.

TW: mc death, grief and then comfort!

Word count: 1.2K

You come to Aether in his deepest sleep, smiling at him like you always used to. Most nights that you appear, he can only claw his way to you, so desperate to hold you again. Some nights you speak to him, those nights are the ones Aether can touch you again. Your voice changes each time he hears it, and he knows it's because he's forgetting the true sweetness of it.

The Ghoul remembers how you made him feel with each smile, each laugh, each kiss, but the view is slowly rusting away with time. Your face is more and more blurred as he looks back on you. Did you have black hair? Or was it blond? Were your eyes green or blue?

A part of him hates himself for losing memories of you, like grasping onto straw as he tried to hold you tightly. The other part silently begs Lucifer to return you to him, even if he has to return to Hell to see you again. Aether knew the risk of loving a human, but something about you just couldn't keep the Ghoul away.

Closing his eyes, Aether felt himself drift till he opened his eyes again and found himself in a familiar room. It was your shared room, one that the Ghoul still has ownership over, but can't bring himself to ruin the last thing of your existence.

He sees you laying on the bed, wearing his shirt and comfortable pants. You held a book in your hands, one that Aether knows he should recognize, but the binding holds no name. Hearing your Ghoul lover, you look up at him with a smile, one that makes him melt.

You motioned the Ghoul over, "How was your day, love? You look exhausted."

Aether doesn't have the strength to turn away from your offer, sliding into bed as he lays on your stomach. The Ghoul buries his head into your stomach, knowing he should let you go.

"We finished another tour. The new Papa is getting the handle of things, this was his first tour not as Cardinal. He's doing great," Aether mumbles, his voice muffled by your shirt.

You quickly praise your lover, running your fingers through his hair, "I told you, you're doing great. You always do."

Your praise sends Aether's mind alight, his heart breaking at your words. He should let you rest, instead of torturing himself every night. He loved you, but you no longer walked the mortal world with him. As the Ghoul lifts his head up, he sees the bite mark on your neck. He had marked you the night of your wedding, a Ghoul's way of forever binding their mate to them.

Aether forces himself to look down at your hands, seeing your wedding ring that the Ghoul was extremely excited to get. Slowly, his gaze moves to his own ring, staring at its glow of the fire in the room. It stabs the Ghoul in his heart the longer he stares.

"You're not my Y/N," Aether admits, getting off of you to sit next to you, "I shouldn't be doing this."

You quickly sat up, setting the book on the nightstand as you held your lover's face, rubbing your thumb against his gray cheek. Aether could almost hear you tell him how much you loved his Ghoulish form.

"I love you Aether."

Your words made him freeze, tears threatening to spill down over. Before he could reply, with whatever response he would've come up with, he heard someone call out to him.

"...Aether!"

Hearing his name being called, the Ghoul saw the room start to fade away. He knew it meant that someone was waking him up.

Burying himself in your arms again, Aether quickly speaks, "I have to let you go. I still love you."

"Aether!"

Shooting up, the Ghoul looked around and saw Mountain and Dewdrop surrounding him. Since he couldn't bring himself to sleep in your shared room, he spent many nights in the living room. The fire Ghoul had a shoe in his hand, raised up high like he was going to hit Aether while the earth Ghoul held Dewdrop's wrist in his hand.

"What's happening?" Aether asks, stretching as he looks up at his band mates.

As soon as he asks that, Dewdrop gets an unrecognizable smile on his face as Mountain lets go of his wrist. That led to Dewdrop hitting Aether in the face, making the three stop. Mountain was the first to move, picking up the fire Ghoul like he was some sort of animal.

"One of the Sisters summoned a new Ghoul. Sister Imperator has ordered us down there to welcome them," Mountain quietly explains, stepping out of the room with Dewdrop still in his arms.

Aether sighed, putting his face in his hands. As he threw the blankets off of himself and made his way to the summoning room. He saw many Siblings of Sin hold a newer Sister down, her eyes red as she fought against their grip. In the middle of the summoning room was the summoning circle. The room hadn't been used awhile, since Sunshine's summoning many years ago.

"What happened?" Aether asks one of the Ghouls, all who stood off to the side watching something.

Rain says nothing, pointing at the summoning circle in the middle. It was enveloped with flames, like something was being summoned. A familiar scent found its way to the quintesson Ghoul, almost sending him to his knees. It was so familiar, but he couldn't put his finger on it.

Slowly the flames settled, making everyone freeze and watch as someone rose from the ashes. The Sister that summoned the creature broke free and walked over to the person, offering her hand to brush off the soot.

"Welcome back, my child," the Sister's voice was very deep, like Lucifer's voice.

"I'm glad to be back. Thank you, my Lord."

That voice. Aether's knees almost buckled under the weight of himself as he stumbled forward. He knew that voice anywhere. As the Ghoul reached the step to the summoning circle, his legs gave out, but he was quickly caught by the newly summoned creature.

"Y/N," Aether whispers, afraid that this was a dream.

You looked down at him, your smile on your face as he reached up and wiped more of the soot off of your face. Not much about your appearance changed, the only difference was the horns that now stand proud and your gray skin. You still wore your wedding ring, still had your bite mark from the Ghoul.

"I told you, I'm yours always and forever. Regardless of what world we walk, it'll be together."

Aether pulled you into his chest, shoving his head into your hair. He could smell you clearly now, the soot scent hidden behind yours. This closeness gave the Ghoul a chance to scent you too, desperate to make sure everyone knew you were his.

"I'm never letting you go again."

My first story written on this account! I'm excited! (Not excited about Copia probably going to be killed off after the European summer tour :( )

#ghost band x reader #aether ghoul x reader #aether ghoul #the band ghost x reader #ghostsmybeloved works #dewdrop ghoul #mountain ghoul #nameless ghouls x reader #ghost x reader

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anyon-else · 1 year

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Of Humble Origins and Born of the Cursed Sex (The Red Room pt.12) | After seven months, Kakashi and Naruto finally find you in an abandoned HYDRA outpost. However, you're not the same person that they remember. (Marvel AU) – spotify playlist | read on ao3

Pairings | Kakashi Hatake x Black Widow!Reader + Sakura Haruno, Sasuke Uchiha, Naruto Uzumaki, Ino Yamanaka, Orochimaru, Kabuto Yakushi

Warnings | female!reader, ANGST, brainwashing, torture, electrification, violence, weapons

Word count | 6.7k

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"I am someone who did not die when I should have died."

Anne Carson, Grief Lessons: Four Plays by Euripides

Six months ago

My girls will change the world.

You're useless to me now.

Be proud to call yourself a Black Widow.

You're even useless as a lab rat.

You will build me an empire.

Killing you now would be too merciful.

I'll teach you how to kill. I'll teach you everything I know.

I'll teach you how to be human.

I will take care of you until you're no longer of use to me.

I can protect you both.

Don't fail me.

Don't do this.

"I'm sorry, Kakashi," you whispered, reaching out into a sea of memories and grasping at nothing but water that spilled between your fingers. Each of your memories felt impossibly far, and all you could do was watch helplessly as they fell away into a vast emptiness that was quickly consuming your mind. You saw flashes of pink and yellow and grey. You pictured smiles that appeared on ghosts and heard familiar laughter that echoed within your thoughts. You felt taunted by it.

But you were tired. Far too tired to do anything but watch as each of your most precious memories fell into oblivion. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I failed. I'm sorry."

Your mouth was moving without your permission, repeating words that you hoped would bring an end to the pain. Words that would make a difference if they were the ones he wanted to hear.

But he didn’t want apologies. He wanted submission.

He leaned over you, silver hair reflecting the light shining down on you. His eyes were harder than steel and his mouth was twisted into a grimace that you could clearly see through the thin black cloth of his mask. The expression looked wrong on him, and for a moment you remembered that this wasn't the true face of the man standing above you. It was a trick. Orochimaru...this was Orochimaru. He was tricking you—trying to confuse you. Kakashi wasn't here. He wasn't hurting you—he wouldn’t hurt you

But the thought slipped away as quickly as it had come, and after another shock of electricity made your limbs seize and your back arch against the unforgiving steel below you, it was Kakashi's face that you saw staring down at you.

You knew Kakashi. You held onto his memory like a vice. But as each day passed, you wondered why you were clinging so tightly to the memory of someone who was so cruel towards you.

It was his face you saw each time you felt that aching, raging pain in your head. It was his eyes that watched as the pain spread throughout the rest of your body. It was his smile that you stared at each day as hope drained from your limbs and left you a lifeless husk of a Widow.

Kakashi had betrayed you. And as each day passed with no respite or relief, you felt that betrayal turn into rage. Rage at the world. Rage at HYDRA.

Rage at Kakashi.

"Please..."

I'll teach you how to be human.

"Useless," Kakashi muttered, repeating the word that you'd heard countless times since this began and feeling it like a knife in your chest. The pain wouldn't stop. Not if you kept failing.

But he wouldn't tell you what he wanted. You would do anything he asked if he would only make this pain go away.

I can protect you.

"Again."

Electricity flooded you once more, and the silver hair taking up your field of vision blurred behind a blanket of tears.

You're not a lost cause

Words that you barely remembered now had been your anchor for so long, but you were starting to wonder why you were holding on so tightly. Maybe letting them slip through your fingers would be easier.

As the memories that you once considered the most precious ones you possessed floated into an abyss within your mind, you wondered why you had ever tried to hold onto them in the first place.

Don't do this.

Cold fingers gripped your face, and you looked at Kakashi's cruel eyes staring down at you. His fingers tightened on your cheeks

"Let me go," you mumbled, feeling a cold shock of fear as you looked into the steely face of your tormentor, "don't touch me."

Behind his mask, Kakashi's lips split into a grin, and you pressed yourself against the metal beneath you in an attempt to put distance between his unrelating grip and your face. His nails dug into your exposed skin, and you felt blood bloom through the cuts that formed as he gripped your face tighter and tighter.

Pain erupted in your chest once again. You closed your eyes and reached for an anchor and found nothing but darkness.

You wondered why you felt as if something was missing. You wondered why looking at Kakashi’s face above you each time the pain stopped felt so wrong.

But wondering was becoming exhausting. Instead of pondering on the answers, you let the questions slip far, far away.

Kakashi's circumstances had given him ample experience with suppressing his emotions.

It wasn't a skill he'd gained willingly. After so much loss and death, shutting out emotional responses to crises was almost instinctual. He felt that same instinct creeping towards him as he watched his bullet sliced through the air in near slow motion.

You didn't move. For a moment, he wondered if the world had frozen around him. Maybe it would give him a second chance and allow him to reach Naruto before the boy even found you.

Instead, the bullet continued on its path towards your hand, which moved only slightly, but not quick enough to be out of range. The movement gave Naruto enough time to dive to the ground, but neither he nor you had to worry about where the bullet would end up.

It hit the wrong target, lodging into the shoulder of a new figure that shot out in front of you.

Despite the force of the bullet entering her shoulder, Ino stood in front of you like a steel wall, blocking you from Kakashi's field of vision. Kakashi took in a deep, barely controlled breath and tried not to let his relief show on his face.

You and Ino both watched as Naruto scrambled to his feet and rushed towards Kakashi. The boy moved as fast as he could while running backwards and keeping his eyes locked on Ino and the gun that she was prying from your iron-tight grip.

Ino groaned, clutching her bleeding shoulder but remaining still and sturdy in front of you. Kakashi strained to get a glimpse of your face; any hint as to what you were thinking would satisfy him, but Ino let out a snarl when she realized what he was doing.

"You're so stupid," she growled, "why would you do that?"

Kakashi opened his mouth to respond—to tell her that you were very clearly bracing yourself to pull the trigger and kill Naruto, but the words got lodged in his throat when he heard a pained grunt come from behind the blonde girl's rigid body. Ino froze, attention shifting away from Kakashi immediately as she turned towards the source of the sound. The movement gave Kakashi enough of a glimpse to understand what had happened.

The bullet's trajectory had shifted. What was originally intended to hit your hand had changed its course through Ino's shoulder and ended up lodged in your chest.

"Ino," you muttered, emotionless and robotic. Ino cursed, removing her hands from her shoulder and letting them hover over your bloody shirt. Even from a distance, Kakashi could see that her fingers were beginning to tremble, "sorry, Ino. I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize, idiot," Ino shook her head, though the words were muttered with little malice. Instead, Kakashi saw deep concern in Ino's furrowed brows and the gentle movement of her hands. She tore away your shirt to reveal your bloody hand covering the wound, both it and your chest already coated with blood.

Deja vu tore into Kakashi like a knife in his stomach, ripping away at him and punishing him for all of the people he had hurt. The seeds of sorrow and guilt that had taken root when he couldn't stop you from leaving began to climb between his ribs and up his throat. The vines and leaves choked him and the thorns slied him open from the inside and he had to fight to keep himself steady.

You looked completely void of any emotion. Like the body he was seeing was simply a vessel, and you were somewhere deep inside of it, protecting yourself from the rest of the world and allowing your limbs to move on autopilot.

"Hey," Ino snapped, glaring your bloody fingers and scowling at the lack of response she got. "Stop it. You're only going to make it worse."

Kakashi could see blood oozing between your fingers in a dark red stream. It took a few moments for him to realize why Ino was chastising you—you had begun digging your fingers into the broken flesh, and blood was gushing from the wound faster than Ino could manage.

She pried your tense fingers away from where they were clutching your bleeding chest, finally giving her a good view of the damage that the bullet had done.

Kakashi hoped that it looked worse than it actually was.

He saw Naruto flinch from the corner of his eye, and he could practically feel the anger radiating off of the boy.

"What is this?" Naruto rumbled, hands curled into fists at his sides as he stared at you and Ino, "what happened?"

Kakashi shook his head, watching helplessly as Ino lifted your shirt over your head and pressed it firmly against your chest. You raised a hand automatically to hold the bloody cloth to your wound, eyes still clouded and distant.

"I can't believe this," Ino was grumbling, shaking her head like a disappointed parent as she stood and wrapped her own shirt around her shoulder to try and stop her bleeding. Within a few moments, she was kneeling at your side again. "I spend all this time trying to convince her that—hey, hey! Stay with me."

Your head was lolling to the side, and Ino's stoic expression finally broke. Fear etched across her features as her frown deepened, eyes widening each time you almost lost consciousness.

"Shit," Ino snapped, tapping your cheek and cursing again when she got no response. Kakashi stepped forward, finally allowing himself to close the gap between you. "You have a hospital, right?"

Kakashi nodded.

"Good. We're going there."

Kakashi swallowed thickly, wide eyes watching you try not to pass out as Ino gently coached you. He could still feel Naruto at his back, silently seething at the state they'd found you in.

It had been so long. So long since he'd seen you. Since he'd even known whether you were alive.

He watched the rise and fall of your chest intently, counting your shallow breaths and holding his own after each of your unsteady exhales, afraid that you would stop moving altogether the second he looked away.

He had done this to you. If you didn't wake up, it wouldn't be because of Orochimaru or HYDRA or any other threats that he desperately wanted you to be free from.

It would be his fault. His hands that ended your life.

"Kakashi-sensei," Naruto said lowly, voice sounding far away in Kakashi's distraction, "we found her."

Kakashi froze, eyes on his student as he radiated silent, tense anger. That was anger for you. Naruto didn't fear you anymore—not like he did the first time you met. Now he knew your heart, and he knew that this was not the same person who had left to protect them all. Something had happened, and it was obvious that they were missing crucial pieces of the past six months.

But through the worry and the questions and the endless guilt that plagued him, one thought brought Kakashi enough relief to get him moving towards the jet.

Finally.

Sasuke could tell that something was off even before he entered the conference room with Sakura.

Kakashi had told them nothing about how he and Naruto's mission had gone. In fact, Sasuke hadn't seen either of them in the hours since they'd returned. All he and Sakura knew was that it hadn't gone as planned, that neither of them were hurt, and that Sasuke and Sakura needed to wait a few hours before they could hear about it.

The waiting gave Sasuke a lot of time to wonder what could have happened on such a routine mission to cause this kind of delay.

"Do you think...maybe they found–"

"Don't," Sakura held a hand up. The two were standing in front of the closed conference room door listening to the muffled voices coming from inside. Sasuke heard Kakashi's voice, low and monotone, and he steeled himself for a worst case scenario.

Missions like this never went wrong. He honestly felt that calling it a mission was too generous. It was more of a training exercise to get Naruto more familiar with field work that didn't involve fighting. Naruto was talented—something that had only recently gotten easier for Sasuke to admit—but stealth wasn't exactly his strongest trait. That was why Kakashi chose an abandoned HYDRA outpost—to give Naruto some low-intensity field training.

Sasuke had looked into location himself. It was used for research in the eighties, but it was abandoned only a decade after it was built because of a data leak and subsequent raid by SHIELD. It was the perfect place to teach Naruto the finer points of stealth missions.

So, taking all of that into account, Sasuke was having a hard time understanding what had gone wrong.

"You two can come in," Kakashi said, voice muffled through the door. He sounded exhausted.

Sakura didn't hesitate to push the door open, but she stopped the second she got a good look at the room.

Sasuke immediately tensed when he saw a stranger sitting casually across from Kakashi and Naruto. She didn't look hostile, but Sasuke knew from experience how deceiving looks could be.

But judging from Sakura's expression, she knew who this woman was.

"Ino?" Sakura croaked, taking a small step forward before thinking better of it and waiting where she had easy access to the doorway, "what....what are you doing here?"

"Sakura," the stranger—Ino—said with a nod and poorly hidden relief.

Sasuke could immediately tell how much Ino was hiding from Sakura.

"It has...I can't believe—I mean, you're here. How...not that I'm not happy to see you, but I–"

Ino stood when Sakura began rambling out questions, and by the time she had begun asking the third, Ino had wrapped her arms around the girl and pulled her into a tight hug. Sasuke tensed, but Kakashi shot him a sharp look that told him not to interfere.

Ino grunted when Sakura lifted her arms to reciprocate the affection, masking her pained expression with a smile. Sakura backed away and narrowed her eyes, giving Ino a long look before her eyes shifted to Ino's shoulder.

"What happened?"

"It's nothing to worry about," Ino shook her head, sitting back down across from Kakashi and rolling her shoulder back, "there are other things that we need to talk about first."

Sakura was spiraling. Sasuke could see how overwhelmed she was without even seeing her face, and he stepped beside her.

"What's this about, Kakashi-sensei?"

"You should both sit down."

"Who is that?"

"Sasuke, now's not the time–"

"We found Y/N!"

Silence fell over the room. Kakashi deflated, running a hand over his face and confirming Naruto's statement with a small nod.

Sasuke swallowed. His throat felt like sandpaper. He fought the urge to turn to Sakura.

It had been seven months. Seven months since they'd gotten any answers. Any hint of what had happened to you.

"Where?" Sakura asked, leaning forward with her hands on the table and her wide eyes trained on Ino. "Where is she?"

"She's in the infirmary, but–"

Sakura was already moving, one hand on the door handle by the time Kakashi and Ino reached her. Kakashi grabbed her arm to halt her movements while Ino kicked a heel in front of the opening door, forcing Sakura to still.

"You can't see her right now."

"Why not?" Sakura asked, deathly calm and steadier than Sasuke felt. However, upon closer inspection, Sasuke saw that she looked moments away from losing her composure. Sasuke chanced a glance at Naruto, but his friend just stared at Sakura, devastation clear in is expression.

"I'll explain why," Ino said pointedly, glancing between Sakura and an empty chair next to Kakashi, "but you need to calm down and listen."

Sakura was practically shaking, hands balled into fists and trembling like she was seconds away from punching through a wall to get past Ino. Sasuke was not unconvinced that she could manage it.

"Sit down, Sakura," Ino ordered, finally getting the girl to back into the chair that Kakashi was pulling out for her.

"I guess there's no point in trying to hide things now, "Ino swallowed. "I've been working for Orochimaru since he left HYDRA."

Sasuke only knew about Ino from Kakashi's explanation of what had happened on your mission. He had no reason to trust her, and he certainly wasn't going to start after hearing this.

Kakashi had likely accounted for that when he placed Sasuke next to Naruto. He had his hands on Sasuke's shoulders before he could even stand to leap for Ino. Sasuke was shoved back into his seat and given a hard pat on the shoulder. He stayed pinned there by Kakashi's glare and Sakura's shockingly unfazed expression.

"I shot Y/N under HYDRA's orders, but if I hadn't been working for him, I would've killed her. HYDRA wanted her dead. It was Orochimaru who told me to keep her alive."

"Why?" Sakura choked, "Ino, what happened?"

"I told her that the bullet I shot her with was poisoned, and that the syringe I gave her contained an antidote, but that was a lie. The 'antidote' was actually a tracker. That's how Orochimaru knew where Kakashi's house was."

Kakashi had apparently not been informed of that fact yet, and this time it was Sakura holding him in place. She was squeezing it far too tightly for it to possibly be comforting, but shockingly, she looked like the calmest one in the room.

Perhaps she understood Ino's actions better than they ever could. Sasuke wondered if she would've done the same if their positions had been reversed.

"Orochimaru's experiments were all too flawed to be applicable to actual field He could speak and act through them because he was connected directly to their minds, but his control slipped easily, and there was always a point where the subjects essentially became robotic. Orochimaru gave them a command and they carried it out, but they were sloppy. Their performance declined, and trying to give them complex orders was very taxing on Orocihimaru.

"And because he wasn't producing results that would be viable in the field, HYDRA decided that they would only continue to fund his projects if he applied the Winter Soldier program's memory suppressing machine to his experiments. It had already yielded results, and while it wasn't exactly what Orochimaru was working towards, they saw it as a fair compromise. Orochimaru did not.

"He continued the experiments without taking HYDRA's input into consideration. Then he kidnapped Sakura. He thought it would give HYDRA an advantage over someone as important as Kakashi, but all it did was put an unnecessary target on HYDRA's back. But HYDRA only found out about her and his unauthorized experimentation when she and Y/N escaped. Those were his three strikes."

"I knew that Orochimaru had the capability to kill Sakura, so I approached him and offered my services in exchange for her safety. I didn't think..."

Ino looked thoroughly uncomfortable now. They were all vaguely aware of why Orochimaru was removed from the Red Room. None of this was exactly surprising.

It was what came next that was still a mystery.

"I want you all to know that this wasn't what I intended when I made the decisions that I did. But after I started working for Orochimaru, there was nothing I could do. He could've gone to HYDRA and told them that I was a traitor whenever he wanted. I...it was selfish, but–"

"It's okay, Ino," Sakura smiled, though it was obviously forced. She knew better than any of them that Orochimaru was not an easy man to defy, and on top of that HYDRA was a far more terrifying beast when one was put in the position of a double agent.

"He wanted Y/N because, aside from Sakura, she was the only Widow that HYDRA didn't control. He could get to her without having to go through them. He thought that if he brought them a Widow who could be controlled using the memory suppression machine, that they'd give him his position back.

"Wishful thinking," Sasuke muttered. Ino huffed.

"Well," Ino said, "you know as well as I do that Orochimaru is nothing if not stubborn. And he was desperate. Y/N was the only option he had left, and he deluded himself into thinking that anything he tried would be enough. He was also under the impression that the Red Room would fail without him."

"Would it?" Sasuke asked quietly

"No," Ino responded at the same time that Sakura scoffed, "it would do just fine."

"So why did he do all of this if he knew that they might not let him back?"

"Because he's delusional," Sakura answered immediately, "and he thinks he's a God."

"And he never imagined that they wouldn't let him back," Ino added, "but the machine didn't work on Y/N. At least, not in the way it does on the Winter Soldiers.

"The reason that the machine was used in the first place was because the recruits for the Winter Soldier program needed to become blank slates, completely susceptible to suggestion. In simple terms, it uses an outdated form of electrotherapy to wipe the memory of the subject. But Widows are very different. We're taught to be able to withstand torture at the age when normal kids would be learning addition. That was part of the reason why Orochimaru didn't want to use that method in the first place."

"So he knew it wouldn't work?" Naruto asked.

"He had a feeling. At the very least, he knew it wouldn't have the same effect as it does on someone without the Red Room's training. But he hoped that it would...well, for lack of a better word, he hoped it would reprogram her. He saw her as broken because she was able to resist the Red Room's conditioning and escape. He thought that the machine could be a way to bring her back to a state where she would be more susceptible to suggestion. That way he could show HYDRA that he was able to recondition an escaped Widow."

"But it didn't work?" Naruto whispered.

"No," Ino swallowed, "it didn't."

Ino glanced at Kakashi, a nervousness in her expression that made Sasuke uncomfortable. He wasn't sure how much more of this he wanted to hear.

This was the same man who held Sakura hostage for four years. This was the monster that haunted both your and her nightmares.

Sasuke felt his hatred like it was another entity inside of him. He greeted it like an old friend.

"For the first two months, he did the same thing every day. He used the machine, then Orochimaru would ask her questions. About her loyalty, about what she remembered. A lot of the questions centered around Kakashi. He acted like...Kakashi had somehow replaced him."

Sakura shook her head, hands clenched into fists on top of the table. Her hands were trembling with barely suppressed rage, and Sasuke knew that she would be in the gym releasing some of that anger on some poor punching bag after this meeting ended.

Maybe it would do him some good to join her.

"It wasn't pretty. But it also wasn't working. I tried to tell her that...that letting go of you both would make it easier. That it would make the pain stop. But it was like some part of her refused to give in. Even as her memories became scrambled, she still knew that you meant something to her.

"Orochimaru decided to change tactics after he saw how little progress he was making. He figured that, if he wanted her to let go of her sentiments and fully submit, he'd have to make her fear the person she refused to let go of. So he disguised himself as Kakashi and let her see his face each time they used the machine."

Sasuke thought back to the first time he'd seen you, long before he became close to you and certainly before he began trusting you. It was one of the first things he'd heard you say, and it was a warning to Sakura about this very circumstance.

"This is a trick. They’re trying to test our loyalty by showing you someone you trust. They’ve used it on me countless times. You may think you know this man, but you don’t."

"But if it didn't work...why doesn't she recognize me?"

Sasuke flinched. This wasn't fair. None of this was fair.

He wished more than anything that he'd killed Orochimaru when he'd had the chance. The man had been right in front of him the day you left, but he'd been too worried about Sakura to pay attention to anything else.

Guilt consumed him. He couldn't even bring himself to look at Sakura

She must hate you, a voice in the back of his mind whispered, you're no better than–

"Just because it didn't do what Orochimaru hoped doesn't mean it didn't have a significant effect. There's a lot missing from her memory, including any real memories she had with all of you after she escaped. The only reason she remembers Kakashi at all is because she thinks he tortured her."

Kakashi winced, eyes falling shut in the first outward display of emotion that Sasuke had seen from the man since Ino had started talking.

"By the time six months had passed, it was clear that the machine had done more harm than good. She became...a shell of herself. She was no good to Orochimaru if she couldn't hold her own in a fight, and after six months, Orochimaru had lost his leverage and knew that you were going to start searching for him. So he abandoned the experiment and left.

"The outpost you found us at was where Orochimaru was doing the experiment. He left her there and told me that he didn't need me anymore, so I stayed with her to make sure she didn't die. The first week...well, I'll spare you the details, but it wasn't pretty. I forced her to eat, but she didn't sleep for five days."

The silence in the room felt thick enough to choke on. Sasuke felt something within him snap at the sight of his teacher with his head in his hands.

"I tried to convince her that you aren't her enemy," Ino said slowly, looking at Kakashi. He slowly lifted his head to look at her, and Sasuke was alarmed to see that his eyes were glazed over, "but that kind of fear doesn't just go away. I thought I was making at least a bit of progress, and then..."

"Then I shot her," Kakashi murmured. Sasuke watched as far too many emotions crossed over Sakura's face in the few seconds before she turned to look at Kakashi. Anger, grief, understanding, devastation...he wasn't sure which she was going to land on when she finally acknowledged the man sitting next to her, but when she finally looked at him, her face was blank.

"What?" she whispered.

"I..." Kakashi repeated, "I'm sorry, Sakura. I thought she was going to kill Naruto, and I—"

Sakura puts a hand on the man's shoulder, silencing him. Her eyes were wide, moving back and forth as if she was trying to put together this endless puzzle that was becoming more complex by the minute.

"It's okay," she choked, "It'll be okay."

Sasuke knew that neither of them fully believed that.

Sleepless nights were nothing new to Kakashi.

It wasn't insomnia. At least, Kakashi wasn't exactly thrilled with that label. It was more of a choice. Recently, he found that he preferred being tired all day to facing the things that awaited him in his nightmares.

But tonight felt far heavier. He couldn't use Icha Icha to distract himself from the fact that the sun had risen before he had even closed his eyes, and he couldn't bring himself to lift his head from his hands for long enough to focus on anything other than the crushing weight of his guilt.

It's not your fault, Sakura's voice whispered in his head, it'll be okay.

Then he remembered your eyes, wide and terrified and directed at him.

It felt like someone had reached into his chest and crushed his heart in their hands.

It was happening again. He had done nothing but hurt the people he wanted to protect. He had failed Obito and Rin. He'd failed Sakura. And now he was failing you.

And you were within reach now. He could walk across the compound and see you in seconds if he wanted to. And he did want to. More than he thought he'd ever wanted anything.

But you were terrified of him. So terrified that the only thing he could picture when he closed his eyes was your expression when you'd looked at him for the first time in a year.

Some cruel, distant part of him wished that Orochimaru had still been with you when he found you. Just so he could've had the chance to tear the snake apart with his own hands.

It was that thought that encouraged him to leave the solitude of his room and seek a different type of loneliness in the common area. At least there, his thoughts wouldn't be echoing off of the walls of his bedroom.

He glanced down the hall to the room where you were still recovering, sedated and restrained until he could decide how to even begin helping you recover. It was dark save for a dim glow lighting the path for people like him who decided to take late night strolls through the compound. He was quick to walk away from the temptation of visiting you, fighting the strong urge to see for himself that you were safe.

But that would likely lead to more harm than good. Ino kept telling him that you were physically fine and to stop worrying so much, but that felt like an unreasonable thing to ask of him.

What finally broke him out of his spiraling thoughts was a small, almost inaudible gasp that came from the direction of the kitchen.

He would've heard it if Naruto, Sasuke, or Sakura had left their rooms earlier in the night, and Ino was staying in the room across from Sakura's.

His head turned far slower than it would have if he hadn't already put the pieces together.

There was only one other person who had stayed at the compound over night.

You were frozen against the far wall of the kitchen like Kakashi had backed you into it, but you looked anything but frightened. Instead of the shocked, terrified expression that he'd seen before, all he saw now was steely determination.

Then you were on top of him, one hand gripping his wrists above his head while the other reached for something in your back pocket. You put a knee on his stomach to keep him pinned, but he was able to throw you off with a twist of his hips.

This barely phased you, and you were ruthless as you jumped at him again. You kicked at his shins to try and knock him off balance, but he jumped over the attack and dodged the kitchen knife that you were hurtling at him when his feet were back on the ground.

"Does this," Kakashi panted when you landed a jab to his throat, halting his words and his breath for a few moments, "feel familiar at all?"

Your answering snarl felt like a resounding no, so Kakashi kept his defenses up while wondering whether this would end with him incapacitated. He could've called for help from his students—should've, in fact—but he found himself staying silent when the thought crossed his mind.

You didn't show him any mercy, and he realized with a slight feeling of discomfort that you'd been holding back against him when you sparred before. And now, even injured, you had the upper hand. You must've trained extensively in fighting through pain like this—it seemed like something Orochimaru would make you do.

He was beginning to understand why the Widows were so terrifying.

He was also starting to realize you might actually kill him.

Call for help, his mind shouted at him, stop this before she kills you!

But his lips stayed sealed shut.

As far as skill went, you and Kakashi were fairly evenly matched. What gave you the edge over him now was probably pure terror and rage.

Your kicks were something lethal—especially the one you delivered to his stomach, knocking him off balance and landing him on his back.

You didn't waste any time pinning him down again and raising the knife above your head with one hand. The other fell to his throat and squeezed, unrelenting.

"You won't hurt me anymore," you muttered. "I'm going to kill you."

He gasped, choking on air that refused to flow into his lungs. You tightened your hold when you heard the sound, baring your teeth and raising the knife higher.

And higher. And higher.

Then it stopped.

Kakashi felt as if years were passing as he waited for you to kill him. His vision was becoming spotty, and he wondered if he preferred dying before or after he was unconscious.

His students would be well taken care of. He and Guy had given extensive thought to what would happen if either of them could no longer take care of their charges. And, all things considered, Guy was likely a better influence than he was.

He thought of you and hoped that you'd forget him completely. He didn't want you to feel guilty for this.

Each thought crossed his mind, one after another, and still the knife was raised high above your head.

He was so focused on the sharp blade pointed at his neck that it felt like a shock of lightening when a tear landed on his cheek. He thought he'd imagined it until another landed on his lip, and a third on his nose.

Then he looked at you.

Your mouth was set in a hard line, but your face was streaked with fresh tears that continued to fall on him. The knife raised above him was shaking, and your eyes were focused on the hand that you had wrapped around his throat.

Your grip loosened considerably, and he took in a gasping, aching breath.

"Your hand," you whispered, voice cracked and words practically crumbling from your lips like a falling building.

Your eyes were still on his throat. Your fingers were tense on his neck, and his hand was wrapped tightly around your wrist. He hadn't even realized he'd moved it in his desperation for air, but now he understood that it was his hand that you were staring at.

"It's...warm."

For seven months, your mind had been an echo-chamber.

You had a vague idea of the life you'd lived before you'd been strapped into that machine, but most of it felt like whispers from ghosts.

Familiarity redefined itself after you began losing your memories. It became the sudden, paralyzing feeling of electricity shocking you into painful submission. It became Kakashi Hatake's face hovering above you with hard, unforgiving eyes.

It became cold hands touching you. Kakashi's hands, always just as cold as the room you were trapped in.

Those were the familiarities that were trapped in your head. They were the only things that didn't slip away from you. Memories came and went in flashes of pink and yellow and blue. They came to you in kind words coming from a voice you didn't recognize and gentle touches from someone who's face you couldn't see, then fell between your fingers like sand the second you tried to wrap your arms around the memories and hold on as tight as possible.

Pain, cold, and Kakashi. Those were constants.

You grew to hate them. That hatred kept you sane.

It kept you alive.

Eventually, it was what you were forced to hold onto to keep you from slipping into a far-off world that promised protection and safety. You knew that place too well—you recognized it as a sanctuary that you'd been invited to before. But you rejected it, and some distant part of your mind told you that that was what you were supposed to do.

You'd been trained to reject weakness. And you'd rejected that quiet sanctuary in your mind many times before.

You fought hard to hold onto sanity, and your hatred acted as an anchor each time Kakashi's face appeared above you right before electricity ran rampant in your veins. You hated him. You hated him.

But as your tears landed on his face and you stared at the warm hand wrapped around your wrist, you felt your resolve falter. And when you looked in his eyes and saw that same warmth, it crumbled.

Kill him!

The words were rattling through your mind, stuck in an endless loop and trapped within the walls where only your rage existed. Nothing could get in and nothing could get out.

"Look at me."

The command was quiet, but there was force behind it. You found your eyes shifting up to meet his involuntarily, grip loosening on the knife in your hand.

He kept his hand on your wrist and lifted the other to your bicep. You stiffened, but waited until he had wrapped his hand around your arm and pressed his thumb against a scar that you'd forgotten was there.

"I stitched this," he said, shifting his thumb so that he could feel the ridges of the scar, "I was hoping it wouldn't scar as badly as it did. I didn't like seeing you hurt."

"Shut up," you snapped. Your head was aching. His hands were so warm. His eyes were kind.

The familiarity that you'd relied on to survive was gone. Pain had been replaced by gentle hands. Cold fingers were replaced by warm ones.

The only thing that remained was Kakashi, but...the man in front of you wasn't the same one you'd grown to hate. There was something different. His eyes, his hands, his voice...it was all different.

"I'm sorry," he muttered, choking on the words and letting his eyes fall shut. "I'm so sorry I let you go."

Your body was paralyzed. It wouldn't let you move your arm down to sink the knife into his chest. It kept you from ripping his hands off of you. It just kept you...frozen. Vulnerable. Weak

You hated it.

Your head was still pounding like a drumbeat, over and over until you wanted to curl into yourself and let your mind drift away.

"I never will again."

Kakashi's hand shifted away from your arm. It moved up, brushing your shoulder and grazing your jaw until it finally rested on your cheek. With a gentler touch than you'd thought was possible, he brushed a tear off of your skin. Your eyes were wide as he cupped your face in one hand. When he opened his eyes, they were soft and kind and clouded with tears.

They were warm.

Then, like a bullet shattering a sheet of glass, the echo-chamber within your mind shattered with one devastating feeling of familiarity.

You remembered this touch. You remembered this warmth.

The knife slipped from your hand and clattered to the floor.

(previous chapter) | (next chapter) | (series masterlist)

Author's note | FINALLY got this chapter out. thank you guys for waiting longer than usual, i started a study abroad program so the past few months have been very busy. because of that, i can't promise that i will keep to a regular updating schedule but i promise that i am still very invested in this fic and am still planning a sequel series!

this one gave me a run for my money, and it went through about four rewrites before i landed on how i wanted to write some of the scenes. overall though, i'm very happy with how it came out. i hope y'all like the changing perspectives, i literally don't know how to write any other way lmao

let me know what you guys think and please leave me some love if you enjoyed!

title is from "Brutus" by The Buttress

#kakashi #kakashi x reader #kakashi x you #kakashi x y/n #kakashi imagine #kakashi hatake #kakashi hatake x reader #kakashi hatake x you #kakashi hatake x y/n #kakashi hatake imagine #naruto #trr #emwrites

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mdzs-owns-my-ass-i-guess · 1 year

Text

Family portrait

Warnings: very heavy angst, major character death, explicit descriptions of injuries, mental breakdowns

This has to be one of the most terrible - if not the most terrible - thing I've ever written, so heed the warnings.

Special thanks to @yuzanrath for inspiring this terrible ficlet and feeding into my masochistic enjoyment of angst <3

Enjoy <3!

It’s sobering - when Wei Wuxian feels it, the haze of wrath, resentful energy and pain clears away, like fog lifted off the surface of a warming lake.

A-Yuan’s little hand, grasping tightly at Wei Wuxian’s tattered lapels, lets go.

The tension in the fiber disappears, all at once, and the little hand falls limply at the side of the boy’s little body.

The world goes quiet.

Resentment stops howling as it floats around Wei Wuxian’s kneeling form, unmoving, a sheer curtain of smoke. Corpses no longer moan, their hunger for flesh paused as they stare, empty-eyed, motionless, at the scene of a man holding the small, emaciated body of a child whose life is bleeding out of him in winding, red rivulets. The gaping wound in his stomach weeps still, no matter how hard Wei Wuxian tries - has tried - to stop it, the boy’s robes and his own, stained, his long, deft fingertips bloody, lukewarm.

The horde of cultivators has quieted down too. They stand, like statues, swords drawn, eyes wide with fury and bloodlust, spectators to a tragedy that they’ve created. It feels almost as if they’re both basking in it and disbelieving of it, a whirlwind of contradictions.

Tears slide over Wei Wuxian’s cheeks, clear, glistening, cutting a straight, clean path through the blood stains and dirt on his face. The droplets fall over the little boy’s face, his complexion pale, eyes halfway open. If sunlight were to hit just right - if sunlight existed in the Burial Mounds like it does on the outside - it would make his irises shine as if he were still…

Wei Wuxian brings a gentle hand over the boy’s face, ignores the way his fingertips leave bloody marks their way, and leans down to leave a trembling, tearful kiss over A-Yuan’s forehead.

He whispers something into it, something that only he knows, and then, with features contorted in pain, slides a hand over his eyes, eyelids covering the lifelessness behind them.

Carefully, he lifts the boy to his chest, cradles him as much as he is able, his own injuries limiting, and begins humming a song.

There is a gasp in the crowd, a gasp that ends in a wounded sound - but it goes unheard.

Wei Wuxian closes his eyes. He feels the body in his arms slowly losing more and more heat, muscles and joints soon to become rigid. He misses the warmth of the little breath against his chest, the hold of little fingers on the ends of his hair, the seams of his clothes…

“Xian-gege, I wanna be just like you when I grow up!” He declares, a steely expression on his face as he lifts a discarded Chenqing over his head with determination - and both of his tiny arms.

They’re both hanging out in Wei Wuxian’s cave, one working on inventions, the other drawing on paper as if to imitate him. A-Yuan usually sleeps in his granny’s shack, but his nightmares have become worse, resentful energy having taken a twisted liking to him - and Wei Wuxian is the only one that can help him through it.

Wei Wuxian can’t help a laugh, taking the flute from the boy’s hand before he drops it.

“You shouldn’t be like me, A-Yuan.”

“But I want to!”

Wei Wuxian tries to suppress the flurry of emotions ready to spill from his eyes. He puts his brush and talisman paper away, and opens his arms for the little boy to crawl there.

His eyes light up, and he jumps into his favorite spot, nuzzling into Wei Wuxian’s robes like a kitten.

Wei Wuxian ignores the way his badly healed fractures ache with protest at the sudden impact, and instead holds A-Yuan close, carding a hand through his hair.

“A-Yuan, you shouldn’t be like me. You should just be like you.”

“What does that mean?”

“I don’t know.” And he kisses the top of the boy’s head. “But you have a whole lifetime to figure it out.”

“Will you help me too?”

“As long as I’m able, little radish…”

He had imagined he would die before A-Yuan did - just like all parents do. They all imagine their children will outlive them, as it is natural for them to. They’ll grow up while their parents grow old…

But Wei Wuxian isn’t like everybody else. A-Yuan isn’t either.

That’s what the rest of the world has decided, that’s why the order of things has been reversed. That’s why Wei Wuxian is holding the dead body of a child, that’s why he’s had to helplessly watch life drain out of his innocent eyes.

What good is he, if he couldn’t even protect a child?

The Yiling Patriarch? Who’s that? Who could be so afraid of somebody so useless? What’s the point - the point of everything - if none of it could save the one untainted thing living in these cursed, wretched lands?

“Such is the fate the wretched Wens deserve!” a voice in the crowd declares, disgust and satisfaction dripping into every syllable, “Their young must be slaughtered like cattle-”

The voice dies into a gargle, a spike of resentful energy having torn through its inhabiting body, materialized from deep within the ground. The body flails, in the air, before resentful energy rushes to rip at it until nothing is left - everybody watching in fascinated terror as it happens.

Silence befalls the cultivators again. The static smoke of resentful energy has begun moving again, slowly, circling the crowd, then increasingly faster, tearing through the groups with unbridled rage.

But it is silent.

Only the screams of its victims echo through the Burial Mounds now.

Wei Wuxian doesn’t hear them.

He’s rocking the body of his child, singing to it, apologizing to it as if it would ever respond, as if it would ever matter.

“Wei Ying…”

A step, unstable, unsure.

“Wei Ying…!”

Another step, even heavier than the last.

When he’s about to take the third step, red, tearful eyes fixate him from under long, dark strands of hair. He doubts they’re seeing him.

“Wei Ying, I…”

Resentful energy howls, deafeningly, in his ears, as it circles him.

Go away! Go die! What have you done?! Look what you’ve done! Monsters! Monsters! You will die! You deserve to die!

“Wei Ying!”

He doesn’t know whether he’s screaming in pain, resentful energy tearing at his already marred skin, or to snap Wei Wuxian out of his trance, but it escapes him before he thinks about it, loud and desperate - and resentment leaves him, whispering threats and protests.

Wei Wuxian stares, afraid, confused, shocked, at the man in front of him.

“Lan… Zhan…”

Lan Wangji feels relief hearing his name out of the others’ mouth, but it’s short lived. His eyes fall onto the little body in Wei Wuxian’s arms, and anguish crosses his features as his vision blurs with tears.

“Wei Ying…”

It’s only a short distance away, but Lan Wangji can’t stand up anymore, his body weak and hurting, so he crawls towards the two, ignoring the protests of his back against the effort.

He sees, from up close, how hard Wei Wuxian is shaking, his veins swollen dark with resentful energy, crying soundlessly as he holds A-Yuan.

Lan Wangji looks at the boy, a peaceful expression on his face, as if he was sleeping. The boy he gifted toys to, the boy that, lost in the markets, called him father. The boy that bore sins that were not his own and that paid dues he had not even be alive for.

“They killed him, Lan Zhan…” Wei Wuxian whispers, tightening his hold on the cold body. “He was on his own...crying… I didn’t know…”

“It’s not your fault, Wei Ying…” and he reaches to touch A-Yuan’s cold cheek, wet with Wei Wuxian’s tears. “It’s not your fault…”

“I watched him die, Lan Zhan… That’s all I could do…”

Lan Wangji tentatively reaches to wrap an arm around Wei Wuxian’s shoulders, worries it might scare him away - but Wei Wuxian leans into the touch, into him, his eyes never leaving A-Yuan. He's shaking even more now, resentment crawling up his body, but never touching A-Yuan's corpse.

“I want to kill them all, Lan Zhan…”

Lan Wangji holds him, tightly, lips against his temple, “Kill them, Wei Ying." The weight of Bichen on his hip feels unbearable, and he discards of it, resentful energy wrapping around it curiously, as if taken aback by the lack of resistance. "All of them.”

Wei Wuxian wishes he still had it in him to question this - Lan Wangji, of all people… he would never agree to this, he would never encourage it…

Has he rescinded Bichen? Or is the sword spirit... does it accept this? Does it want to be used for such a purpose...?

But none of this matters anymore. Neither Wei Wuxian, nor Lan Wangji are the same people now. No parents are the same after their child dies. Empty, meaningless.

Resentful energy dances into the air as if rejoicing.

Wei Wuxian’s eyes glow red, and he lifts one of his hands in the air, holding the stygian tiger amulet like bait.

Wisps of resentment gather to it quickly, knocking into each other, weaving around it, around themselves. Expectant.

“Feast.”

The Burial Mounds rattle, a formidable earthquake splitting the earth open, ancient corpses rising to the order.

In the cacophony of anguished screams and moaning corpses, storming resentment and blood rivers, a family stays, united, broken, untouched by it all as they hold one another.

Hold one another and sing.

–

Nobody comes out alive out of the Burial Mounds.

The siege is never spoken of again.

The boundary has never been crossed since.

#mdzs #mo dao zu shi #wangxian #writing attempts

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thousandfourhundreddays · 2 years

Note

Can I request something with Ruben? Fluff/smut your choice

A/n Thank you for your request!! It’s my first Ruben piece so hope it’s ok!! Sorry that it’s so late, I wrote half of it weeks ago and only finished it off today. I’m not too sure how I feel about it but I hope you enjoy!!!❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

My Only Exception

Ruben made his way around your bedroom, going about his morning routine as quietly as he could, trying not to wake you, whilst unbeknown to him, you watched silently from the comfort of the bed, duvet pulled up to your chin as a smile pulled at your lips as you watched from a distance. Your eyes followed him as he pulled on a hoodie, his back muscles flexing as he moved, Ripples of sunlight flooding through the crack in the curtains, radiating off his skin. He turned towards you, expecting you to still be asleep, however, his eyes brightened as they met yours. Smiling widely, he brought his hand up to push his hood off the top of his head, before running his hand through his hair.

Your smile changed to a coy smirk as he took a long stride towards you, eyeing you for a second from his place at the end of the bed, before his knees hit the edge of the mattress. Crawling forward, he pinned his arms either side of your head, hovering over you before he brought his lips down to yours, his unshaved stubble grazing your skin softly as you hummed into the kiss.

“Morning” he purred, pulling away slightly to speak,

“Morning” you rushed, chasing his lips to capture them in another delicate kiss.

“Brew?”

“Mm, please” you accepted, feeling his smile against your lips before he vanished in the direction of the kitchen. A content sigh slipped through your lips as your eyes once again fluttered shut.

Not even five minutes later, Ruben returned, two steaming mugs in his hands. Carefully, he took a sip out of one as he held the other towards you, holding it low so you could take it without it spilling onto the crisp white sheets.

You send him a greatfull smile, silently thanking him as his hand ran down your arm, tracing a line from your wrist to your elbow, the tender action sending shivers down your spine as you eyed him over the rim of your mug,

“I won’t be long” he spoke softly,

Nodding in recognition, you watched him disappear into the bathroom whilst you settled back into the duvet, the cool sheets encompassing you as you basked in the early morning silence as you followed his movements through the open door of the en suite. Taking one last sip of your tea, you placed it on your bedside table before pulling yourself out from the comfort of the bed and tiptoed to join Ruben in the bathroom.

You reached across the counter for your toothbrush whilst Ruben stood leaning close to the mirror, attentively gliding his razor over his skin, being sure to avoid the bulk of his stubble, knowing you loved it when he kept it that little bit longer.

The near silence enveloped the both of you, the trickle of water hitting the porcelain strangely calming as Ruben came to wrap a strong arm around your waist, fingers reaching round to trace light shapes atop of your skin. Breathing out a content sigh, you tilted your head back to rest on his shoulder, savoring the precious few moments you get to spend with Ruben before he was dragged away from you by a million other things.

After not long, you both concluded your own tasks. Untangling yourself from his grasp, you turned to face him fully and he caught hold of your wrists gently, bringing your arms up to rest over his shoulders before lowering them back down to settle around your waist, hands clasped tightly behind you.

“Don’t go yet” you whispered, knowing his next task would be to leave the house for training,

He gave you that familiar look, one he gave every time you asked him to stay just that little bit longer, fully knowing it would make him late. A look filled with disappointment that he genuinely couldn’t stay home with you, amusement at your efforts to keep him to yourself, and love, however that was constant, an unbroken, unwavering gaze of love was always present in his eyes.

“I can’t, amor” he replied, his voice low, a whisper which replicated yours.

You huffed before raising on your toes to capture his lips in a kiss, cherishing the short time you had with him that morning as he tasted the cool, mint toothpaste on your lips, before an idea popped into your head…

Slowly, you pressed your body impossibly closer to his. Your fingers raking a little more harshly through the shortest part of his hair at the back of his neck. Your tongue slipped through his lips, in turn, drawing a pleasurable groan from the back of his throat.

You felt him smirk against your lips, he knew what you were doing,

Subtly, you began to creep backwards, purposefully keeping Ruben close, pulling him with you towards the door back into your bedroom,

“Y/n, I really can’t” he giggled, trying to refrain from giving in,

Hearing his words, you pushed your hips firmly against his, bringing a hand down from around his neck, running down his chest and under the soft material of his hoodie, using your index finger to trace his abs that hid underneath before tugging at the waistband of his shorts, never breaking the kiss once.

“No?” You challenged his attempt to brush off your proposition as you felt him harden against your lower stomach, causing a smirk to pull at your lips

A smug wave of triumph washed over you as you suddenly felt him begin to claw at your waist, a defeated whine escaped his lips as he gave in, his legs moved swiftly as he quickened your clumsy journey back to your bed,

Ruben may pride himself on being a man of routine, every morning running in a habitual cycle, an effortless rhythm that you watched enviously as you struggled to drag yourself out of bed every morning, but when it came to you, you were the only person in the word he would happily break his rules for, the only person he would gladly rush out of the door 20 minutes late for,

You were his only exception.

#ruben dias #ruben dias fluff #ruben dias smut #ruben dias imagine #man city #manchester city imagine

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elysianslove · 3 years

Text

— SHOW YOU WHAT IT’S LIKE

in which after admitting to not having orgasmed during your first time with him, he takes it to heart & overstimulates you the next time around.

includes; iwaizumi hajime, miya osamu, suna rintarō

content warning; degradation, overstimulation

IWAIZUMI HAJIME

you’ve never felt like this.

before meeting hajime, and before deciding to give him your virginity, all you knew was your futile hand rubbing harsh circles against your clit, sometimes daring to slip further and dip inside of you. when you’d make yourself cum, it would last a few seconds, your body tensing momentarily as pleasure overwhelms you.

but this? this is different. it’s incredibly different. every inch of your body, nerve and muscle alike, is somehow both tense as ever and as loose as jelly. you’re sprawled out on the bed, face turned into the pillow as your hands fist at it. the cloth is damp from the salty tears that have slipped from your eyes and the drool that drips down from your parted mouth. between your spread legs is your lover, fingers nestled deep inside of you, his arm tensing and muscles bulging with the strain of effort as he fucks his fingers into you at a brutal pace, twisting and curling. his other hand presses down on your hip, keeping you steady and still for him. from minutes before, his lips and chin glisten with the evidence of your arousal, but now, his entire focus is on the rough, hard strokes of his fingers.

a deep groan falls from your lips, twisting and bleeding into a high pitched whine as hajime leans forward, angling his wrist so that his palm presses rubs harsh against your clit. “haji— hajime please!” you pathetically cry. “no more, no more!”

he tilts his head in faux confusion, the obscene squelching of his fingers deepening the twist and drop of your stomach. “isn’t this what you wanted?” he wonders rhetorically, and you sob heart wretchedly, so much so that he almost feels bad for you. but he had a point to prove, still. “don’t you feel good, pretty girl? you look good— like a whore. my pretty whore.” for good measure, he chuckles darkly.

with the increased friction against your clit, and his fingers knuckle deep inside of you, you’re quick to reach your— fuck, how many orgasms has it been? back arching, your legs bend at the knees, reaching to shut close as your body spasms and trembles with the force of your orgasm, but the hand that had been on your hip moves to your inner thigh, and hajime spreads your legs open for him once more.

your lungs feel tight, muscles aching terribly as you sag once more on the bed, seeping into the mattress as hajime’s fingers slow their pace, allowing you to ride your high peacefully, easily meeting the gentle roll of your hips and the shake of your legs— until, gradually, he picks up the pace again, and your fists are tightening around the pillow once more. “hajime— i can’t breathe—” you gasp out, but he only hums in fake consideration.

“that’s too bad,” he tuts, fingers slowing once more and slipping out of your abused cunt. “was just about to make you cum on my cock— but if that isn’t what you’d like—“

you can’t say you blame him for scoffing at how you whine pathetically, your hips rutting up against his in disapproval. “no—“ you barely begin, before his rough hands are pulling at your hips, dragging you along the bed closer to him.

“yeah,” he laughs again, freeing his cock. “that’s what i thought.”

MIYA OSAMU

it feels like hours, hours, since he’d first sat you down like this, and you don’t know much longer you’ll be able to last.

you’re on your lover’s lap, stuffed full of his cock, back pressed flush to his chest and legs spread for him. his hands are everywhere, everywhere, kneading at your stomach and your breasts, pinching and tugging and rolling at your nipples, rubbing harshly at your clit. and his mouth, sinister as ever, kisses hot and wet along your neck and shoulder, whispers the dirtiest things in your ear, keeps you alive and burning for him.

you’re just settling down from your fourth, fifth, maybe sixth orgasm, arousal pooling in his lap and drenching his balls and the couch beneath you. you can feel his cock twitch inside of you with every clench of your cunt and every orgasm he pulls out of you, but his orgasm control is unbelievable, and he refuses to spill inside of you, to fuck you, until he deems you ready. which, technically, you have been for a while now, and you were at least three orgasms ago— but still, he’s yet to stop.

“‘samu, please, please, please fuck me,” you beg helplessly, falling limp in his grasp and throwing your head back.

right by your ear, osamu laughs loudly, and god, you know he’s enjoying this. “sure,” he says, and you sigh, relieved for a moment — “in a bit—“ and it all shatters, your body tensing once more as you let out a whine.

with one hand grasping at your breast tightly, and his lips biting down on your neck, the other hand slithers down to your sensitive, swollen clit, hovering and grazing it lightly. instead of resuming his previous pace, his fingers slither lower to your stretched cunt, fingers brushing against his hardened cock inside of you, lightly teasing as he rubs at your pussy lips. the palm on your breast stops kneading and squeezing, splaying out instead and traveling along your chest, up to your collarbones and right beneath your neck.

“m’sorry for neglecting ya baby,” he whispers, and even though you know it’s genuine, he still sounds as teasing as ever.

you shake your head, just as you feel both his hands travel higher, one finding its way around your neck, wrapping pretty and gentle around your throat, the other pressing down on your clit once more. biting down a squeal and tensing your muscles in order not to jerk your hips, you pant, “s’not your fault, it’s okay, it’s— okay!—” a squeal rips out from your lips unintentionally and you shudder, heaving, “— fuck, please.”

“i’ll never leave ya unsatisfied, pretty baby,” he whispers, fingers picking up their pace on your clit. on his lap, you squirm in his hold, and he grits his teeth as he feels his balls tighten. the feel of you clenching and gushing around him like this is irresistible, but he had meant it when he told you he’ll leave you braindead by tonight. “promise, cross my heart,” he adds, just as your body tenses again and you cum, hips jerking up and body lifting slightly. his hand around your throat tightens, fingers sloppy on your clit as you shake through your orgasm.

yeah, you were braindead, and he hadn’t even fucked you yet.

SUNA RINTARŌ

“rin— rin, rin, rin i’m cumming, fuck—” with urgency and desperation unlike any other, you seek purchase on anything you can find on the bed, gripping it tightly as your back arches deeply and your hips roll, legs spasming uncontrollably behind you. you bury your wet face deeper into the mattress, mouth parted dumbly as your chest heaves and your eyes flutter shut.

“what was that?” suna pants, hands gripping your hips tighter as he fucks into you from behind. “cumming again?” he tuts, gritting his teeth to steel himself and stave off his orgasm, hips slowing. your legs are still shaking as his thrusts come to a stop, and the trembling only gets worse when he falls above you, keeping your ass raised as he leans on the mattress, gripping the sheets tightly to fuck into you again.

god, is it even normal for your legs to nonstop shake like this?

“you gonna cum again?” he teases, and hearing his voice so near you, feeling the heat of his body so close, the scent and feel and sound of him so alluring, makes you shiver, hands gripping the sheets tighter as you whine tightlipped. “so soon?” his thrusts are slower now: he takes his time pulling out and thrusting back in like gentle waves, his strokes easy. yet, somehow, this makes your nerves prickle even worse, because now you can feel all of him, every ridge and every vein, feel him as he slowly stretches you open when he pushes in, as your cunt sucks him in, as it gushes around him.

you’re reduced to a wordless mess at this point, only able to whine and pant and sob and drool for him— like the messy bitch you are, such a dirty whore—

his hands fumble on the sheets momentarily before they find yours, and he intertwines his fingers with yours, palms pressed to the back of your hands. “will you give me some more?” he wonders, hips still thrusting languidly. to say he’s delighted to see you nod stupidly at his request, quickly and with a low, whiny hum would be an understatement.

with his fingers laced with yours, and a deep, amused chuckle, suna pulls out, before thrusting too fast, too deep. your eyes widen and you gasp, back arching deeper, fingers grasping his tighter. all he does is grunt and whisper, “good girl,” at your reaction, and begins his once brutal pace again.

i’ve been wanting to do this for a while now, but i wanted to do it as a full fic with like iwa or something where you approach him and tell you you couldn’t cum and then he promises to make you cum till you can’t breathe but i only had the energy for this instead :)

#haikyuu smut #iwaizumi smut #miya osamu smut #suna rintarou smut #iwaizumi x reader #miya osamu x reader #suna x reader #osamu smut #suna smut #suna rintarou x reader #iwaizumi hajime smut #haikyuu thirst #hq smut #sal’s thirst tag <3

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xiao-come-home · 3 years

Text

N/SFW blurbs with Genshin men;

┏━━━✦❘༻༺❘✦━━━┓

✰ Characters: Ayato, Dainsleif, Itto, Kaeya, Kazuha, Diluc, Thoma, Zhongli.

✰ Words: 2,1k.

✰ N/SFW; MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. afab!reader.

Warnings: co/ckwarming, teasing, ri/ding, mentions of o/ral and vo/ye/urism (?), authority ki/nk, lin/gerie, dain being soft, fun bath time, itto needs a muzzle.

A/N: my first time writing for Thoma, so I’m a bit nervous >< If there's something i forgot to add in the warnings, let me know!

┗━━━✦❘༻༺❘✦━━━┛

Ayato

Ayato loves whenever you cockwarm him when he's doing paperwork. Such boring activity suddenly becomes a bit less mundane, but Ayato - being able to multitask - seems like nothing special is happening; he doesn't move, doesn't let even the tiniest sound out - he just chuckles whenever he feels you clenching around his cock. Almost as if he was trying to soothe you, he begins to move his hand up and down your back in a reassuring manner, while his violet eyes look into yours hungrily.

“Fufu, seems like someone's impatient today,” the commissioner cups your cheek and grazes his lips around your neck; you can feel his gloved thumb starting to caress you.

Ayato's hands move to your hips, dangerously massaging them, moments before grabbing your ass and causing you to grind against him.

“Ah, my love, it seems like you cannot bear it any longer; but, so do I. So, will you be good for me for just a few more moments?”

Ayato catches your lips in a sweet kiss, that almost seemed out of place, considering the situation that was currently happening. He nibbles on your lower lip slightly before pulling away.

“I promise, my angel - I'll satisfy you like no other,“ he takes off his glove with his teeth and throws it to the side, unbuttoning your shirt and slowly dragging his warm hand from your throat onto your breast.

“you will not remember your own name, no - you will chant my name like there's nothing else in this world.”

Kaeya

There's just something about teasing Kaeya and vice versa, Kaeya teasing you just as much. He likes the thrill of it, giving you subtle touches that make you go crazy, pushing the line every time he has a chance to do so.

But, Kaeya's very fond of seeing you doing it as well; the cavalry captain thinks it's adorable to see you attempt to rail him.

Kaeya pins you against the door in Favonious Headquarters, hovering above you and leaning his forehead against yours.

“My, my, you can't control yourself, can you?” his hands play with the waistband of your pants, just before sliding his hands in.

“You know Jean is right on the other side of the door,” Kaeya's slightly chill hand grasps your panties and pulls them up just above your entrance, causing the material to get stuck between your pussy lips and cause friction against your clit, “and yet, here you are. Tempting me so, oh so much, with no end...”

However, this is nothing unusual; Kaeya has made sure that you both experience the best things together; he's made sure that he fucked you in every corner in the building, no matter if there was someone else. He's eaten you out in Dawn Winery, stuffed you full of his cock against the window in his office, and made you suck him off while going through boring papers.

“Very well. Let's see how much you shall last.”

Arataki Itto

It's not enough to say that Arataki Itto is quite fond of himself. Of course, there is absolutely no bias.. or so that's what he claims. But there's just something special when it comes to you, that can't just stroke his ego even more than what it already is.

The moans that spill from your mouth every time he bites and sucks on different parts of your body, how your legs shake, and the way your face twists in pleasure are enough for him to get rock hard.

Itto suckles on your nipples harshly, but not enough to cause pain; he twists the other one between his fingers, only to groan as he feels your hand gripping his hair tightly. The oni is also fond of sucking on your clit and fluttering his long tongue against the sensitive orb; he can't get over how your thighs shake while his black nails sink into your flesh.

“How does it feel, sugar?” Itto presses an open mouth kiss on your pubic crease, then makes his way up to your lips, relishing in the sweet melody of your whimpers, “ya think you can take some more, sweetheart?”

The oni presses himself against your body, just enough for you to feel his rock-hard cock between your pussy lips.

“Because I'm sure I ain't done with that pretty little cunt of yours just yet.”

Kaedehara Kazuha

Kaedehara Kazuha, the wandering samurai, that seems to be pleased by even the tiniest things this world has to offer - you've heard that from someone once, but never thought about it seriously; you did agree with it every time that thought came back.

But you never expected to learn it the hard way.

Literally.

You did not expect to find yourself bouncing on his cock in a shade, below a tree.

Kazuha doesn't often lose composure, but whenever you're riding him - his senses become clouded by bliss, his cheeks reddening and almost resembling his scarlet eyes; his hands gripping your hips so tight that he's surely going to leave marks on them.

He tries so desperately to bite back his moans every time you bounce on his hips, but it's no use; eventually, his mouth spills moans and broken praises with no signs of stopping. His eyes can't decide what to focus on - your delicious breasts, or maybe his cock disappearing in your tight cunt.

As he lays on the ground, his bandaged hand taps your shoulder lightly, telling you to bend down to kiss him - and so you do without hesitation, feeling him pull your face towards him eagerly.

You can feel him twitch as you kiss him.

“My love, I am getting so close; the sensation of our bodies connected together, ah, it's too much for me. Do not stop, I need you, I need us, to bask in ecstasy together.”

Zhongli

The Wangsheng Funeral parlor consultant, or - his lesser-known name - Rex Lapis, appears to be.. both ordinary and special person at once. The previously known god slayer, having built his own country and assisted it for so long, is now a "mere" human.

But that's what he wished for.

Yet, old habits die hard.

Even as Zhongli, he likes having control of what belongs to him - which also applies to you; that's why most of the time he's in control, giving you orders and expecting you to follow them. But who wouldn't? During these times, it's no longer Zhongli, it's Morax; his glowing, brownish arms with golden veins cup your face that's centimeters away from his cock.

Your cheek nuzzles against his thigh, the thought of finally sucking his cock after being teased for so long is making your mouth salivate; that big, veiny cock that somehow also glows - making you even more desperate.

“Speak,” he says sternly, luminescent eyes looking down at you, “what is it, that you desire so terribly?”

“You, my lord, I want you,”

“Take me then, little one; cherish me, show me all of your devotion and passion that you possess for me, and only me.”

Zhongli likes being the bigger person, making you feel small, but special, too - a god's favorite plaything, the god powerful enough to slay others with ease; the god that was so possessive, that marked your mouth and body with his thick cum and rewarded for taking his cock so, so well.

Diluc

The red-haired man stands by the bar, carefully pouring a generous amount of red wine into the glass; he smiles gently as he serves the drink to the client, but as he observes people getting them one by one, he scowls slightly at the counter; after all, Master Diluc is not that fond of wine.

However, the pyro vision holder has his own eye candy next to himself - you, that thank archons, help him with the overbearing sight; especially, that not-so-hidden lacy bra you're currently wearing.

It's not a secret, that Diluc likes the sight of you dressed in lingerie. Being the wealthiest man in mondstadt, he's bought you quite a few sets; sometimes, he even had someone design ones that perfectly hug your curves in every way.

His dick twitches in his pants painfully, but he can't get enough of the sight of your lingerie barely covering your wet cunt and perky nipples; he sits you on his lap and leans you toward him, immediately biting softly onto the clothed breast. His hand plays with the panties on your hip, lightly tugging the material, only for it to snap back.

“You're so wet already, darling,” Diluc's hot breath tickles your nipples, while the other hand begins to circle your clit through your panties; he lets out a moan as he feels the wetness even through the cloth.

“but now, get on your knees; I'm going to mark that pretty lingerie - you won't need it again after I'm done with you.”

Dainsleif

The bought keeper is no stranger to being alone, in fact - after losing his land, nation, and finally, his traveling companion - he thought he was destined to remain by himself until the very end.

That thought changed unexpectedly once he met you; after many years had passed, the blond man has found the caretaker of the shattered remains of his heart.

Dainsleif, ever since the beginning - has craved the intimacy; even if the sound of skin slapping together echoes in a steady rhythm, his fingers are laced with yours. He craves your lips until they're swollen from kissing, he craves your touch, he craves your broken moans and attention.

The bright, cold moonlight shines vividly, but only you know that Dainsleif's cock is buried deep within your tight cunt; he doesn't care about anything, but you. Your back is pressed against the remains of a wall, your legs wrapped around him; he holds you the closest he can, kisses your lips hungrily until you're out of breath, only to feel your pussy clench and pull away from him to let out a desperate mewl. Even though you're getting so close by just his cock thrusting inside you, Dainsleif's hand finds your swollen clit and rubs it messily, as he also approaches his high.

Sometimes, he makes you cum first just for him to witness the wave of pleasure that hits you once you reach your orgasm.

Yet, after you're exhausted from your session - he keeps you close between his legs, letting you rest on his chest, while he has his chin on your shoulder; he traces invisible patterns on your arm, accidentally tickling you from time to time.

“Beloved, you may sleep if you need so; I, too, am a bit tired, but the image of your body lusting so badly for mine is still plaguing my mind... I wish to think about it just a bit longer.”

Thoma

The housekeeper of the Kamisato clan always seems to be busy - running errands, sweeping, cleaning up, cooking meals; it hasn't been long until Ayato decided to hire another person to help out Thoma.

You were a nice addition to the house - Ayaka liked you immediately, Ayato, a bit distant at first - also did not regret hiring you - he warmed up to you just a few months after seeing you do solid work.

Even though it took a bit longer with Thoma - he was definitely more friendly with you, which eventually blossomed into something more.

Right now, you're exhausted - you've cleaned half of the mansion, ignoring your boyfriend's scolding right before he went shopping. He only sighed when he came back and shook his head, before suggesting to run you a bath.

Except.. the bath took an.. interesting turn.

Before you knew, Thoma began to gently spread the soap on your breasts, massaging them, squeezing and pinching your hard nipples; he peppered your neck in kisses, and moaned softly along with you. His hands reached lower into the water and spread your thighs, dragging his hand upwards on your pussy, teasing your hole with one of his fingers. He hummed in dissatisfaction, as the water slightly ruined his plans.

Not too long after, you find yourself getting fucked by Thoma's fingers, or - quite literally, fucking yourself on them. The jade-colored eyes watch you intensely, Thoma almost shaking in his seat; he groans every time he feels his fingers getting clamped onto, his cheeks burning with rosy color. His cock is begging to be released, but the sight of you jumping and using his fingers to make yourself cum, just like milking his dick almost every night ever since you've arrived in the manor is making him want to watch more.

“Yeah, sweetheart, don't stop, oh archons... Make sure to give me all of your juices, baby; you look so, so beautiful.”

619 notes · View notes

thehistoriangirl · 2 years

Text

I’ll See You in My Dreams;

Sorry, I didn’t write a chapter for Viktor/Reader in the modern AU, but I did this Jayce/Fem!Reader one instead.

(Yes this is part one of two, I’ll write the other half in a week or two. The ending of this part is kind of a random cliffhanger(?), but I have to cut it there before it get even longer).

Jayce x Fem!Reader [Soulmate AU]------8.9K-----SFW

Synopsys: In a world where you can only know the identity of your soulmate through your dreams, having no dreams at all is problematic. Tired of your family and friends looking at you with pity, you decided it's better to run away and start over. But you can't escape yourself and the deep longing that pierced you day and night, especially when meeting one of the Hextech creators.

Each night was the same, dark, infinite emptiness. Despite repeating yourself it didn't matter, one night after another of the same dreamless parage began to irk you, tugging one invisible rope around your chest, adding one tightly knotted around each time your friends announced they finally met their soulmates. The ones they have been dreaming of—literally—since quite a time ago.

Once again you were collapsing on your mattress, gazing with a blank mind towards the bare ceiling of your bedroom. Tears spilled down your cheeks, a deep ache reverberating direct ay your heart.

Why couldn’t you be like them?

The fancy dress you wore to your friend’s wedding was laying over the rug around your bed, shoes abandoned at the entrance. Your mind felt clogged with fragments of the celebration filled with golden lights, fancy champagne, and blissful smiles. A tray of jealousy struck your bowels at seeing them gather to toast the newlyweds. Then you began to recollect all the events that led to this moment.

Everything started with a dream, it always must start with a dream. Despite not existing a concise age when the soulmates visualization might take place, it was around the last teenagers' years until the earlier thirties. Plenty of time, because it was no easy task.

Dreaming was strange, being a phenomenon that no science could grasp yet. Surrounded by a veil of supernatural sacrality, because after all, the root of true love was implanted inside it. Some people wouldn't remember many details of their dreams, much fewer people's faces. It was supposed to take years to recollect a tangible description of your soulmate purely using the fuzzy memory of your inner fantasies. The privilege of dreaming was scarce, too, because even if the person was used to dreaming every night, not all the time they would have a reverie about who was supposed to be their perfect complement.

And yet, there were you. With no access to dreaming at all.

It wasn't that your memory of the dreams slipped through the fingers of your logical brain when the sun rose from the horizon. You did remember your dreams, shards of reality mixed with memories and fantasy worlds that didn’t exist. But moreover, any trace of the reiterated face was absent.

Now you were about to cross the time limit to those dreams when rumors had it, they just disappeared, receded into the same unknown cosmos of the night. It wouldn’t have bothered you that much if your parents or friends could disguise better their pitiful expressions.

You were so tired of causing compassion as if the fact they were being so caring was because you were some kind of broken, incomplete human being.

That’s why you were leaving.

The last night in your natal home had to be this restless, body tossing around in the bed, the room too hot or too cold once you had thrown the bedsheets to the floor. Your bedroom would stay still, frozen in time once you were gone. You only hoped you could make an exception to yourself, allowing yourself to let go of the burden of your incompetence—although arbitrary—regarding the soulmate’s duty.

Closing your eyes, lips barely touching, the words spilled out in a low decadency, like a prayer. It was a repetitive phrase you concocted in a moment of desperation, but the logic behind it had begun to reiterate every day, every night.

They’re gone. That’s why I can’t dream about them. My soulmate is dead.

Turning them around once again, the words flooded your mind, pouring sour tears down your temples, wetting the pillow as you lay on your back around the darkness, until the sunlight peeked through the hills and into your open window.

Against the clear, white morning light, the Piltovan’s acceptance letter shinned like pure gold.

*~*~*~*

You could’ve arrived via ship or aircraft, but it was the perfect opportunity to travel with the Hexgates. Even if you had to write down your name on an ever-growing waiting list and move to the capital of your natal country for a couple of days until it was your turn to sit down in the zeppelin that would take you to Piltover in a matter of minutes.

Despite the nervousness floating in the air inside the aircraft, with shushed murmurs and scanning gazes towards the enclosure, a spark of curiosity ignited inside you. Would you feel the magic traveling down every cell of your body? Would you be part of the Arcane, too, even if only for a second?

It could be a good approach to your future job at the same place the main research center and laboratory of Hextech were installed, at the Academy.

Finally, the moment to go arrived. The insides of the zeppelin were embraced in shadows when the lights went out, silence governed the place meanwhile the aircraft slowly went upward inside the tower, aligning with the Hexgates’ exit. It was possible to see a glance of the vibrant blue engulfing the airship through the wood and the metal blended. Even though you couldn’t see outside, you had been paying enough attention to the marvelous tower since your arrival to know what should be happening.

Massive circles of runes glowed, with the airship in the center of all of them. Each one with different combinations and sizes. The center of the building, similar to an astronomical observatory, got arranged to open a little hole where the ship would be cast away. The aircraft stopped moving, shaking incessantly at the next second. You felt it like electricity if a bolt of lightning were striking down your body, but frozen in time. Tingling covered every part of you, of every passenger. And then, the energy accumulated until it reached its peak, collapsing into a ray that propelled it—and all of you—through the sky.

The forceful, sudden move made you close your eyes, a gasp escaping from your lips. In the darkness inside of your eyelids, it was possible to see blue rays, arcs of the same power you were traveling with. You couldn’t stop yourself from thinking if this is how magic would feel, in dreams and real life.

Maybe this time you will have the lucky opportunity to grasp it with your fingers.

Your insides felt as if they were pooling down your feet when the airship stopped, an abrupt movement that almost tossed you out of your seat and towards the row in front if they wouldn't were security belts around your torso. The same shade of blue inundated the place, this time fading much more quickly while the zeppelin continued to move at normal speed, entering the Hexgates and stopping at the platform of arrivals.

Lights went on, illuminating paled faces and giggling children. Your content smile was enough proof you would gladly take another ride if the opportunity presented itself. Being able to be one with the Arcane was as ecstatic as one would fantasy. The workers’ voices inside the tower instructed it was safe to descend in a neat line, towards the elevators or the stairs, the latter to the ones who wished to peek at the inside of such an advanced artifact.

Of course, you took the stairs. Your luggage wasn’t that heavy, and you wanted to cease the curiosity rooting inside about the luminous inside of the tower, covered at the peak by golden pipes, connected to the insides of the walls covered in symmetric patterns that glowed the same color of the magic enveloping the aircraft back home. When you leaned down, hands firmly grasped at the security veranda, the runes extended way further your view, until the infinite down your feet, only cut by some platforms where you could see people working.

They had security goggles, masks, gloves, and helmets. Each one of them opened the sections where were tubes filled with gemstones, runes dimmed before their eyes, the magic they needed to work gone. After revising and changing some of them, the tubes were inserted in their original places, glowing up again the section of the wall it corresponded.

Would you work with runes and Hextech? Curiosity and excitement flutter in your stomach, a wide smile spreading across your lips. New energy flowed through your veins, so you take your suitcases with an eager grasp and descended the stairs with light footsteps, shoes tapping harmoniously against the metal steps. You passed a couple of platforms before you had to stop to catch your breath. Looking down the rial once again, you could see the open gate just some floors below, filling the ground with a golden light against the cold, white light of the Arcane.

You heard voices near, the workers suspended in platforms like the one you were in, but much littler, moving in your direction. The sudden maneuver of the mobile platform made you jump backward, momentum built from the weight in the luggage that sent you stumbling further than you thought.

“Ah!” you flinched at feeling a pair of light brown hands stopping you from falling.

“Noy worries, I got you.” A warm, relaxed voice said above your head. “Be careful, these steps can be a little slippery. Are you alright?” You looked over your shoulder, but the person holding you was very tall, only being able to catch a view of his torso covered by a white vest and black long-sleeved shirt.

Instinctively, you took a step away. Leaning your neck backward so you could look back at his hazel gaze. “Uh, th-thank you.” You tried to sound reassuring, but his overwhelming presence made your voice falter. To disguise your shameful behavior, you put on a little, soft smile.

The man was looking at you with the same friendly smile, but once you locked eyes with him and smiled back, he widened his eyes as if he was looking directly at something shocking.

“Do I have something in my face?” you said quietly, trying to pass one hand over your cheek only to discover that the man was still taking you by one of your shoulders. “Um… can you… let go, please?”

He jumped at your words, putting a step away from you. His hands laying awkwardly on top of one another against his stomach. “Ah yes! Sorry. Are you alright?” His eyes were still glued to your face, and you could feel heat accumulating in your cheeks.

“Yes, thank you again.” You thought he was about to get out of the way, but his wide, muscular frame stayed still. “Um…can—”

“Excuse me,” he interrupted you, both having a flustered reflection of the other. "Have we met before? You seem familiar.”

"I don't think so." Your brows were drawn together. Behind him, a slim man had the same expression of confusion that you, with his uniform matching one of the men in front of you. You could’ve said you weren’t from Piltover, but that would have been giving a strange too much personal information, so you kept your mouth shut.

“Jayce!” The other man called him, but he didn’t seem to listen. You rubbed your hands against your hot cheeks, but nothing was in there. Why was he still looking at you with such a puzzled expression? “JAYCE!”

You heard the continuous pace of the cane the other man used to walk until he was looking at you with an unfriendly pout and furrowed brows. Offended at his annoyed expression, you diverted your attention from him to the man still in front of you.

“I think they’re talking to you," you pointed at the time the other man put one hand on Jayce's shoulder, making him jump again.

“Jayce what are you doing? You are supposed to surveil the workers of this floor,” he said, accent thick and filled with exasperation. Jayce, the taller man, looked back at him with a dumbfounded expression, as if were lost. Thankfully his body moved out the way when he turned towards the touch of the other, leaving you plenty of space to move away. “The faster this goes, the faster we can go back to the lab."

“Viktor, I—" you didn’t hear the rest, sprinting back at the stairs and getting down as fast as your frantic heartbeat could withstand.

When you arrived at the exit gate, you hide your figure among a group of tourists, camouflaging in case someone was still watching from the elevated platform.

What was that? You could still feel the firm and gentle touch of the man—Jayce—on your shoulders. And the way he was looking at you… how bizarre, you couldn’t even pinpoint the emotions between shock, wonder, and curiosity. Does even matter what his name is? Your thoughts refuted, and you snorted loudly on your way to the inn you were staying in until you could rent an apartment.

You were never going to see him again, anyway.

*~*~*~*

The nights in Piltover felt less like so than in your natal country. Streetlamps were on every corner, with some businesses closing very late at night. And it was always the decorations of gold, copper, and bronze in the buildings, reflecting the yellow lights like stars descended from heaven.

Even with your curtains closed, a halo of gold light enveloped the inn room you were laying in. Bare walls, a cozy bed, and bedsheets that smelled like aromatic soap, similar to the one used at home. Your clothing is laid carefully placed on the little night table. You didn’t want to arrive late to work on your first day.

This time, you dreamt of a realm filled with blue light, a soft vibrant sound lulling you to sleep and remember.

Your steps were quickly you used to, even if was still pretty early in the morning. Piltover looked built with gold when the morning sun illuminated it, compared to the dark insides of the Academy halls, your walk seemed to go on forever in the middle of a maze-like that, with the same geometric patterns covering the walls and the doors made with the same decorations on the gates, except for the names engraved on top of them.

P. Heimerdinger said the one you stopped in front. Your knuckles stopped, unsure of what to do. The metal was cold against your palm when you pulled the door, discovering it was unlocked. Peeking inside was a long corridor that led straight to a wood door. Your heels echoed eerily in the quiet ambiance. Some blue-light lamps hanging from the ceilings gave the place a cold feeling compared to the warm sunny day it was outside.

“Professor Heimerdinger?” you said, knocking. On the other side, a muffled, joyous voice answered to come in, so you did. An enormous hall welcomed you, outlined with a dozen or more statues of unknown people, each one with a lit candle. In one corner of the room was an empty table filled with pipes and blueprints, different tools that were completely strange for you carefully placed on the surface.

A massive door was open to the balcony that let you gaze all over Piltover, light flooding the place and framing the desk cornered opposite side of the worktable. The yordle was revising some blueprints, his head barely visible among the piles of books and papers.

“Good morning?” you said, voice losing the steadiness at the end of the sentence. “Professor Heimerdinger.”

“Good morning, dear. Please come in, come in. You arrived at the perfect moment!" He jumped out of the chair, his little steps guiding you towards the desk. “Here’s the last term exams you will help me to grade. And over here are the results of the inventors whose work will be presented at Progress Day. You must write the letters to each name listed here so they can the exposition and the space as they please.”

“I’m guessing the arrangements for Progress Day are more urgent than the exams, yes?” You remembered the scarce times your parents traveled with you to Piltover just to be part of the spectators when you just were a child.

“Yes, indeed, dear! Have you ever assisted before?” His light blue eyes flicked just to the mere idea of the Progress Day festivity.

“Hmm, yes. My parents brought me here a few times, but I have motion sickness, so it was difficult to travel as I grew older.” Your fingers brushed the paper, already making a plan of action in your head. “It would’ve been an odyssey to come here if it wasn’t for the Hexgates.”

“Ah yes. Truly impressive what those young gentlemen achieved in such a short amount of time!” He was walking towards the exit door when a furball jumped out of one of the bookshelves and quickly stuck to his heels. "That remembers me.” He turned to face you, fingers interlaced. “I was invited to one presentation of the new prototypes the young inventors want to show I Progress Day. You can come if you want to, I think it'll be a unique opportunity to watch their creative process."

“Yes! I would love to go,” you exclaimed, excitement not hidden in your tone at all.

That made him smile. “Very well. After lunch, wait for me on the main floor. We’ll go from there.”

You nodded. “Thank you very much, Professor.”

“Have a nice day, young lady.”

The day went on extremely fast. Writing letters with the same format over a hundred times made your hand cramped, though it was much more amusing the way you packed each letter in the metal tubes and carry them away to the main postal office inside the Academy, inserting apartment numbers each time you put a letter inside the pipes, hearing the whistling of the metal ascend until all left was the echo. For a moment, you imagined you were playing the organ.

Perhaps in another life, when you were competent with musical skills.

When you arrived at the main floor of the Academy, Heimerdinger was already there, surrounded by a cloud of students. You only guessed the Professor was in the middle of the group because couldn't see him nor heard him. The only solid proof of his presence was the little furball that was running around the legs of the students, stopping at seeing you walking near to them.

“Hi little thing!” you murmured, kneeling so your hand could reach one of his horns. The Poro looked at you with his brilliant black eye before rubbing your hand with his head. It was fluffy and warm, which made you smile. “Let’s go there and wait for Professor Heimerdinger to finish, hmm?”

You didn’t want to carry him, feeling it was too much playing your chances into him warming up to you, instead trusting he would follow your steps. Sure he did, snuggling at the corner of a pilar you were leaning against while you observed the architecture of the entrance hall. A vaulted ceiling covered in murals showed the creation of Piltover and its development, an unfinished sketch showing the Hexgates and the whole city embraced by a blue hue. The walls were covered in paintings of the most important patrons, posing proudly with the outstanding inventors they supported. There and pillars were framing the wide stairs and the crystal elevators, everything decorated with frames or geometry of valuable metals like copper, bronze, gold, and silver. Wide, clear windows opened right under the dome, inundating the place with light. Several minutes passed before Heimerdinger's voice pulled out your scanning of the place.

“My apologies, dear. I didn’t think so many students would be around here when the holidays it's just around the corner! Let's go, we don't want to be late."

The entrance to the lab was the same that Heimerdinger’s, with the same patterns and design, except that at the main gate the plaque said J. Talis instead. It could be heard a drilling noise as you approached, Poro at the forefront.

“Professor! I’m glad you came.” A familiar voice exclaimed when you were about to close the door behind you. You froze when, turning, you saw the same man of yesterday. He encountered your gaze, his imposing figure staying still in the middle of the room.

Near the door, another man, who you also identified as his companion yesterday, tilted his head towards you, gesturing to get near one corner of the lab where a stool was collocated alongside a table whose adjacent wall was covered in a brick wall. “And uh… you brought company! That’s good.” His hazel eyes tried to not be fixated on your face.

“Ah, yes. I’m sorry gentlemen. She’s my new assistant, Miss y/n.” Heimerdinger gestured toward you and then back to them. “Miss y/n, they’re…”

“I’m Jayce. Jayce Talis.” He cut off, practically dashing towards you with his hand extended, with both the yordle and his partner sending him weird looks. Professor Heimerdinger looked confused, and the other man looked… embarrassed.

“Hi” you muttered, shaking his hand with no little reconsideration. But his grip was warm and confident, soft even the rough sensation of his skin against yours. You supposed it was because he worked on machines all day.

“I’m Viktor.” The other man said, looking back and forth between both of you. He didn’t attempt to approach, but maybe it was because was still shaking your hand mind-absently. Viktor cleared his throat. “Jayce.”

“Uh. Right. Sorry.” With an awkward smile, he receded, ignoring Viktor’s attentive stare. “Please, right here." He gestured to Heimerdinger to sit on the taller stool, bringing back another one from his desk for you to sit on.

“Thanks…” you whispered, sitting alongside Professor Heimerdinger. Poro laid around the two seats, enjoying the spectacle.

Everything seemed to go alright, they were explaining that now, the unstable Hextech crystals were completely safe to use, capable of power-up any device that could hold certain combinations of runes. When Jayce put one of the luminous blue marble in the middle of an anvil and proceeded to smash it with the hammer Viktor gave him, you instinctively recollided, feeling the wave of power enveloping the anvil and Jayce, a powerful bubble of magic that exploded, first of a brilliant white to finally collapse into a rain of blue particles that floated around like snow.

It was beautiful, the way each bead tickled your skin, strangely cold to be as luminous as the sunlight. Your gaze got directed to Jayce, a smile arising on your lips, eyes squinting happily.

Jayce’s gloved hands slipped the grasp of the hammer, which fell with a dry clank sound against the anvil. He coughed, ignoring you and moving towards a wheeled table.

“I present to you the new chapter of Hextech”, Viktor said, and your attention was again down to the strange artifacts on the table.

Jayce showed a pair of gauntlets capable to break monoliths of rock into crumbles, made for the mining workers. Viktor showed a much more—in your perspective, of course—dangerous artifact. A mechanical claw integrated with a laser in its center. The table with the wall of bricks was there for the presentation, to use as coverage of damage when Viktor drew Professor Heimerdinger’s face in a brick of black rock, testing the finesse and precision of the laser.

The presentation finished, and Viktor removed the Hextech crystal connected to the observed side of his palm, you could feel a piercing gaze in your direction, but you tried to ignore it because it would be too embarrassing to lock eyes with Jayce again. Why was he looking at you anyway?

“I want Hextech to be a tool for us to build a new world.” Jayce began, pacing back and forth in front of the Atlas Gauntlets placed on the table. You were sitting in front of him, but you pretended to look at the Hexclaw instead, even despite from the corner of your eye you could see Jayce gesturing in his speech with a Hextech crystal. The Hexclaw began to shake. “And now, it’s finally possible!”

You screamed, the mechanical arm opening with a sudden move and shooting a ray towards you. Heat passed near your shoulder when you try to avoid it, when you toppled over Heimerdinger’s seat, almost knocking him over. “I’m sor—” you muttered, but the whimper of Poro made you stop. The little furball was running around in circles, pieces of his fur floating around alongside a burned smell that made your nose wrinkle. “Poro!”

Fast heartbeats could be heard inside your head, adrenaline flooding into your veins. The ambiance changed into an unpleasant stillness, with the two young scientists looking ashamed, eyes wide and cheeks red.

“Young lady, I will be very thankful if you could take him to the veterinary hospital of the Academy.” Heimerdinger’s soft voice and gentle touch on your wrist made you release the grip you had on his stool. The little paws of the pet made an echo in the silent lab. "I will see you soon in the office, yes?"

“A-alright.” You couldn’t even see any of the presents when you stood up, legs wobbling each step clumsier than the last. “Thank you,” you muttered to no one in particular, to let me see the presentation, you wanted to add, but your voice was gone. Thanks to the gods Poro was just waiting for somebody to open the door so he could run away from the evil machine, so you didn’t have to catch him.

You only turned to close the door, being able to glance, though only for a moment, at Jayce’s stiff position with slumped shoulders, facing away.

Without knowing why you couldn't avoid the strange sensation of pressure settling inside your chest.

*~*~*~*

It was already dusk when you returned to Heimerdinger’s office. Not the main lab you entered this morning, but instead the official residence of the Dean inside the Academy's main building. He was ready to go to the opera, so you only settled Poro down in his comfy bed and left, leaving the recipe of medication the vets gave to assure a fast recovery at the table in the middle of the living room. With luck, he will notice it.

The halls way back to Heimerdinger’s lab were silent, with closed doors and light off in those facilities that were now closed for the day. Supposedly you should have ended your turn by now, but you doubted you could sleep with all the events that occurred today. Better than tossing in the mattress, it was better to advance work into grading the exams. That way maybe tomorrow you could get to enjoy Progress Day.

To ease your nerves, having to walk through the patch of shadows only guided by your hands, instinctively you began to hum a song, echoing sweet notes against the walls, even though a little out of tune, the sound expanding with each step. The hall connecting Heimerdinger’s lab was submerged in darkness. You stopped, trying to grope the keys that were somewhere in your pockets. Soon enough you saw a segment of yellow light, a flicking shadow looming against the wall in front of the gate.

Your steps froze, an itchy sensation settling in the back of your neck. The keys in your hands sounded too loud. The figure moved, straightening his posture. “H-hello?” you tried to sound confident, but seeing the height of the shadow made you falter.

Jayce Talis peeked his face in your direction so quickly it made you scream.

"Oh, gods. I’m so—so, very sorry! I—agh, what a disaster. Everything’s going wrong.” He rushed to your side, holding a little bouquet, his left hand was raised, as if wanted to touch you, but he retreated it after thinking better about it. "Are you alright?"

This felt too much a déjà vu. “Yes, not worry. You just caught me off guard.”

“Being honest I was starting to think you wouldn’t come back…” he trailed off, looking ashamed he said it out loud. “It’s not like I wait for you that much time.” His whole face was deep red, eyes planted to the ground.

“…right.” Hands went to the cold metal of the gate, shaky fingers trying to open each one of the five locks. You could feel his attentive gaze over your shoulders. It was going to be a hard task. “Why are you here? It’s pretty late to wander in the Academy.”

"As I said, I was waiting for you because I wanted to say sorry." You looked at him from the corner of your eye. He was pacing in the little hall, almost giving one step before he ran out of space and had to turn back. “About the Hexclaw incident.”

The door opens with a clean click. Maybe you pushed it aside too hard, metal knocking against the wall with a heavy rumble.

“There’s no need. I’m fine. Heimerdinger’s fine. Even Poro is doing okay, though he's probably a little bit traumatized, he'll recover." You shrugged, seeing Jayce doubting if he should step inside the lab. He looked like a lost child. “Come in, if you want to.”

He smiled, crossing the doorframe. “Do you work here?”

"Yes, in the desk over there." You pointed to the desk filled with papers. "I was planning to grade exams Heimerdinger assign me, so tomorrow I can enjoy Progress Day.” Pausing, with your brows furrowed, you add: “Shouldn’t you be resting or something? The professor told me you’re going to be the protagonist of it.”

Jayce began to fidget with the flowers’ petals. You wanted to ignore the bouquet, but now your attention was fixated on his hands and discovered the little plants looked not only pretty but expensive too, with silk paper around them with a pink ribbon.

“I’m too anxious to sleep, I guess.” His steps were long strides, in no time he was in front of the desk you were sitting. “Can I help you?”

You pursed your lips, doubt, and shame emerging at the same time. "I don't think it would be appropriate if you make the job I'm supposedly being paid to do."

"Oh." He answered, but he was making a long face, shoulders slumping. “Then I’ll better be going.” Jayce realized he was plunging the petals of the bouquet making a little pile at his feet. “Shit. I mean, I’m sorry. These are for you." He tried to shove the bouquet among the book piles, but they begin to waggle, making him stop. “I’ll put it in the worktable over there. Ignore the… empty spots?”

You weren’t looking at him since you turned him down. It felt like oppression in your chest to see his defeated expression. But even so, it made you giggle. The light sound stopped him on his way to the exit.

“Thank you for the flowers”, you commented, gaze focused on a paper you weren't reading.

“Are you doing something tomorrow night?" his question widened his eyes, pen almost brushing the paper, frozen in a check motion.

"No. I don't plan to assist at the party.” Looking up at him, signaling him with the pen lightly before realizing it would be a little accusatory. “But aren’t you going to go?”

“I think I’ll be very drained for all the multitude. I would like to go to a more peaceful place.”

You couldn't stop saying: "With me?”

Jayce looked up at you, hands on top of the other, slightly embarrassed. “Yeah? If you want to. I would like that.”

The only sound in the room was the tapping of your pen. “I would like that, too.”

A smile, maybe too wide, extended over Jayce’s lips. “That’s—that’s perfect! I’ll see you by the main fountain before the fireworks begin. Does it work for you?”

You blame his humor for the smile that was also spreading in yours. “It does. I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

“I'll see you tomorrow, y/n. Not stay up too late.”

“Alright, mom." You could hear Jayce's laugh in the hall, making you all fuzzy inside even if you wanted to deny it or stopped.

Because you must stop it. Even if your pretension to refute all about the soulmates, doesn’t mean you could apply the same rules. Seeing the prospect of going out with Jayce, suddenly your panic and awareness hit you like cold water on a winter morning.

Even if your heart beat strangely fast when Jayce was looking at you, even if a tug in your stomach was present each time you locked eyes—not that you were reminiscing it—he had someone else waiting for him. Someone else he dreamed of every other night.

And it wasn’t you.

*~*~*~*

In addition to some supervision tasks Heimerdinger ask you to do to the expositor’s tents, you had the rest of the day to yourself. Being a new employee was hard, especially when the idea of getting near a group of people and immersing in their chat made you anxious and sweaty. Being alone in the middle of a crowd was a strange feeling, attention put over you itching from your back and neck, thinking disdainful eyes were looking at you with pity or even despise.

After all, you weren’t from around here.

“Miss y/n?” you picked your name from over the cacophony of voices. Stopping near an unfinished tent, you find Viktor walking towards you. He was already wearing very formal clothing, a dark brown jacket with gold decorations on the collar and lapel. A black waistcoat with the same golden patterns, a red necktie, and a long-sleeved white shirt. His high-waisted pants had a striped pattern between dark brown and black. “It’s good to see you. May I borrow you for a moment? I need your assistance with something.”

The hand you put over your chest was cold. You could see people giving you jealous stares. “Me?”

“Yes, yes. Please follow me.” He moved fast, fumbling each time an unaware person stepped in his way. “Excuse me.” He exclaimed, accent too thick and loud. “Thank you—ah, this crowded festivity.” You hurriedly followed him, the people made it difficult being side to side, so it was difficult to understand what he was murmuring under his breath now and then. “Oh, Miss y/n? May I ask you a question?”

You blinked. “Of course. What is it?”

He looked you over his shoulder, amber eyes flickering against the sunlight. “Do you have a twin?”

“What?”

“No, forget it. For your expression, I intuit there isn't." He continued to walk, leaving you behind with your feet glued to the ground.

“We’re here.” He said after a couple of minutes. You were in front of a tent which the counters filled with unpacked boxes. Through the reflection of the glass, you could see Jayce’s back bending down, searching for something among the boxes’ contents. “Good evening, Miss y/n.” He said out loud, getting near where his partner was. Jayce jerked from his hunched position.

“Hello, y/n” Jayce smiled, patting his hands covered in dust and oil stains down his thighs. He looked back to Viktor, then to you with brows knitted together. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh, Viktor told me he needed my help.”

“Yes, exactly. Jayce, my leg is feeling a little bit sore today so I thought I could ask Miss y/n her assistance in arranging this tent with you.” He stood up in front of you, interchanging looks with Jayce.

“Oh, but I—” you stopped, Viktor turning to see you with a serious expression. You showed the list in your hands, only about a quarter were marked. “I have to check the list of expositors and give it to Professor Heimerdinger before the event begins officially.”

“Not worry. I will sort it out.” Viktor took the paper before you could blink. He scanned it with a blank expression. “Goodbye Miss y/n.”

“Don’t your leg hur—”

“Have a delightful evening, you two.” He cut off, walking away faster than when he was guiding you. “I will see you later, Jayce.”

And then he was gone, his figure lost among the multitude.

Both of you stood there in silence for at least one minute. “That was…,” you muttered, then realizing Jayce was standing right behind you. “I’m sorry! I mean—”

“Yeah, I know what you meant.” He passed one hand through his face. “Thanks for helping me.”

“No problem!” you tried to say cheery, but you were nervous. Supposedly you would see him until a couple of hours later, so you thought it would be good to make the hard work in simples clothing that would end up dirty, and then at the moment of finishing your duties you would change into the clothes you carefully packed inside a suitcase put inside Heimerdinger’s lab.

Plan ruined.

“What do I do?” you said, thinking that being busy would calm your nerves.

“I’ll unbox these prototypes and put them on the counter, and you can order them. Would that be okay?”

“Sure.” The glass was dirty with fingerprints, so you used a handkerchief laying around one of the boxes to clean it up. “What are those prototypes, are they yours?”

"I don't know." He laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. “They’re the more outstanding inventions of the students attending the first years of the Academy.”

“Oh, I understand. They look interesting.” Your fingers brushed the metal with softness. Cold climbed through your skin, leaving a path of goosebumps that may not be related to the way Jayce was looking at you—even if he believed he was being secretive about it. “Are you going to present something?” you said, smiling and turning to face him, hugging a prototype against your chest. “Maybe the artifacts you showed yesterday?”

“Ah, no. We won’t." His voice dropped, his smile becoming a grimace. "Professor Heimerdinger wasn't convinced about their safety."

You swallowed, a shameful wave overcoming your body. “I’m sorry. I wouldn’t have been there then probably—”

“Hey, don’t say that! It wasn’t your fault.” Jayce walked until he was in front of you, a big and warm hand on your shoulder. “I bet he wasn’t even thinking about the incident when he turned us down.” A sigh escaped his lips. “Not worry, we’ll figure something out.”

“Like you always do I suppose.”

That made him crack a little smile, the gesture made your ridiculous heart flutter. “Exactly.”

After that, you decided it was better to work in silence, and Jayce didn't push that much of a conversation besides some small talk about how your job was going, if you had already an apartment to rent, and if you missed your home.

"I don't miss home, you know?" You shrugged, putting the last prototypes and the plaques of identification in front of them. "Is it something bad to feel that way?"

Sometimes I feel like a coward running away.

“I don’t think it’s bad. I mean, I wouldn’t have met you if you hadn’t chosen to leave.”

You felt your cheeks growing hot in a blink. Heart pounding fast against your chest you were sure he could hear it too.

“I—”

“Miss y/n. Jayce.” Viktor's voice cut off whatever nonsense was about to leave your mouth. He was grasping his cane somewhat embarrassed to be there, eyes wandering around in everything except you two. “Mrs. Kiramman is looking for you.”

He proceeded to give you the list filled out. “Thank you so much! You didn’t have to go to all the trouble.”

“The things we do for friends, right, Jayce?”

Jayce cleared his throat. “Right. I'll better get going." He patted Viktor on the back, maybe a little too hard looking at the glare the other man sent him. “I’ll wait in the fountain for you, y/n. Viktor, I’ll see you backstage in a while.”

“Bye.” You waved even if he couldn’t see you.

Viktor shook his head slightly. “I am going to the main building where the speech will take place now the supervisors for this tent are arriving. Are you coming?”

“No. I have to…” I have to change into prettier clothes, for absolutely no good reason. “I have to run some errands.”

“Oh. Alright, then.” He nodded, looking at the students taking their places as some people approached to see the inventions. “It was good to see you, Miss y/n. Have a good evening.” Viktor stopped, almost making you stumble against his back. “I forget. Do not let Jayce drink too much, please? Tomorrow he has a Council meeting early in the morning.”

The heat came back, and you opened your mouth like a fish longing to be back in the water. “I—you… h-ho—who…”

It was the first time you saw Viktor smile, even if it was a minuscule one. “Goodbye, Miss y/n.”

*~*~*~*

The chilly air of the night helped you to calm the torrent of thoughts flooding your mind. A drizzle coming from the fountain is accompanied by the light rhythm of the water gurgles falling into the pool of water. Stillness in the ambiance made you remove nervously. The courtyard was almost empty, not a suitable place to watch the second round of fireworks propelled after the discourse. But it was good, the emptiness made you feel at ease; because the more people witnessing, the more important it would be.

It wasn't a date, so why were you so anxious about people seeing you with Jayce? Just as laughable as the extra effort you put into your new clothing and styling of your hair. Heat crawled up your cheeks remembering Viktor’s expression knowing you two were going out. Why did it feel like you were committing a crime?

Perhaps you were, against your mental sanity. Trying to fool you into believing this was okay, even if you began to feel nervous around Jayce, or when you acknowledged the way he made his way into your mind, but sadly not to your dreams. It was cruel, but another part of yourself was grounded in the security of him only wanting a friend. He was very cheerful, and it wouldn’t be weird that quite some people before you felt the same way around him, even if they weren’t his soulmate.

You would be no different. And that is the origin of the deep ache reverberating in your chest. It wouldn’t go away all the more your hands snuggled around the silk scarf around your neck and down your chest, but at the least, the soft fabric gave you some comfort.

Among the clean cobblestone path outlines with well-trimmed bushes, you could see his even larger shadow covering part of the fountain’s marble. You didn’t separate your absent, almost sad gaze upon the ripples of water.

“Hey, I’m sorry I’m late!” His voice was as warm and joyful as it could have been a hug. But you didn’t want to imagine what would be like to be between his arms. “Do you want to go now, or do you want to wait for the fireworks?”

He also changed his clothing. Obviously, being him the one in charge of giving the speech. White jacket with decorations in gold in the collar and lapel, with shoulder pads in red and white showing the Talis’ crest that made him look even broader: a T formed by a hammer, outlined from the crimson with a white diamond shape. Underneath he was wearing what looked like the usual Academy uniform, a tailored white waistcoat with a red tie, and a matching black, long-sleeved shirt with trousers.

“Are you okay?” he said with brows furrowed, sitting next to you. “You’re staring.”

You jumped out of the seat as it was beginning to catch on fire. “N-no I wasn’t! You have a bug. Right here.” Your hands shake off his shoulder randomly, near the fold of his collar.

“Oh, yeah? What is it?” His hazel eyes sparkled with amusement, but his cheeks were tinting red.

“I don’t know, I’m no entomologist.” You pretended to look into the sky, clouds scattered in the deep royal blue canvas. “Let’s go, if you don't mind. I can't be up so late at night without becoming grumpy."

Do not let Jayce drink too much, please? Tomorrow he has a Council meeting early in the morning.

Right.

“Sure thing.” He stood up, towering over your figure you had to take a step back to not get so overwhelmed. “I was asking because I don’t know if you saw the first fireworks. I got a glimpse of them from the main hall, but you weren't there, were you?" Even in his nonchalant tone, you could sense a shard of disappointment in the way his eyes were directed to the ground.

You did see him, although you arrived half-speech, you were still able to hear the hope in his heartwarming voice, in the way he smiled stating that his new technology was ready to improve the whole city. But you didn’t stay after the fireworks were detonated, observing how the wealthy multitude surrounded him with praises and dreamy looks.

“I had to run some errands, so I didn’t get there in time. I’m sorry.” Your lies were sour but recomforting in a twisted way as if you were trying to convince yourself instead of him.

“Oh, not worry. It wasn’t a big deal anyway. I just would’ve liked you to be there. That’s all.” He shrugged imperceptibly. “Let’s go, it’s a place not so far from here.”

“What is it, a restaurant?” You had to almost sprint to follow his long strides.

“No, it’s a café. Usually, I go there with Viktor when we get the chance.” The fireworks painted the sky when you were arriving at the Academy gates, the loud boom sounds were muffled by the distance, leaving only the colored sparks falling down the sky in the form of flowers, framing the Academy in yellow, red, and blue. You stopped, with Jayce holding open the gate, both looking upwards.

"It doesn't look so bad from here," you said.

“And they aren’t even the most stunning part.” From your side view, you noticed he wasn't looking at the fireworks.

“Let’s go.” You tugged at his coat. “The show is over.”

His quiet laugh followed both as you walked down the empty street.

The little café had a bunch of empty seats, but probably now that Progress Day was over more people were about to enter anytime soon. You were at a little table that fitted my two people, but too little for Jayce. His knees were brushing yours and you couldn’t avoid the urge of bouncing your legs out of nervousness. Your view was directed towards the main door, the streetlamp allowing you to see the silhouettes approaching at a slow, relaxed pace.

“Do you like it?” He commented, absently reading the menu, even if he peeked over the paper in your direction.

“Yes! It’s very peaceful and cozy. It remembers me of home.” Then stopped before something extra could slip out. The home was a complicated topic, but it seemed it was beginning to leak in here too. “Thanks for bringing me here.”

“It’s nothing. I’m glad you like it,” his smile was sweeter than the dessert you were having for dinner. “Maybe we could… doing it again sometime?”

You swallowed the last bite of your dessert, not ready to answer. Should you say the truth? No, because I don't want to fall in love with you. Because this fantasy would be doomed from the beginning. The words didn't come, of course, they didn't.

“I—” you heard the entrance door open, the little bell ringing and disrupting any foolish attempt of a sentence. You blinked, locking eyes with the woman that a moment before waved at you, a delightful smile on her face. Your stomach fell, remembering their wedding just a couple of days ago. “Hi,” you muttered over Jayce's shoulder, hoping he couldn't catch the way you were fisting your hands. “What are you doing here?”

You had to continue, she was supposed to be your friend from school, even if you both parted ways after graduating. Both established a light communication that was mostly built on her good luck meeting her soulmate and getting proposed to, with endless questions and the same piteous looks each time you repeated your failure.

“We’re on our honeymoon!” she looked over you, at Jayce who was standing behind you with eyes darting from you to her, fingers woven together. “Who is he, y/n?” Her eyes illuminated, but your felt your bowels knotted, air trapped in your throat. Please not say it, please no…

“Did you finally meet your soulmate?”

Your feet got glued to the floor, and you felt the color drain from your cheeks. You knew she didn't say it in a bad way, but she also was aware that you have never had the dreams of soulmates, why would that change? The problem—you—was still there, and that wasn't going to change ever.

Tears made your vision blurry, and your hands shook as pressure was installed on your forehead when you tried to soothe yourself forcefully.

“I’m sorry I have to go.” You dodged her, avoiding every visual contact you could even if they were piercing your back. The glass door was difficult to see and you hit it with your hands before grasping the handle. You slammed the door when you get out, running down the streets with no sense of direction.

Your feet only stopped when you found a little square, a statue luring you to the shadows fabricated by its figure against the streetlamp’s light. The ground was cold and solid, an anchor you need to get hold of. This shouldn’t be happening to you, you hated to feel this way. With the repetitive idea of you being a broken artifact or a useless human. How many times have you spent the nights awake thinking about what was wrong with you? The infinite times you glare at the reflection in the mirror, looking at the dark bags of fatigue under your eyes?

You cried silently making yourself a ball, nose running and chest pounding hurtfully, until you felt like an empty shell, thinking maybe you could put on a mask of drunkenness on your way home. The cold of the night numbing not only your body but also your mind, and your feelings. When you got up the world spun a little, and you had to get hold of the statue’s base. Even without a clock, you knew it was around midnight. The streets were almost empty, except for the Enforcers patrolling, which send you a couple of hidden stares, mysterious but certainly disdainful, perfectly disguised in the semi-darkness.

That night was rough. It dreaded you to come back to the Academy tomorrow, knowing that even if you tried to avoid Jayce, he deserved at least an explanation and that the place was relatively tiny, so there was no way possible for you to run away forever. Even a sudden feeling of guilt was drowning you in shame, thinking that your actions were exaggerated.

But the time didn't stop, and you had to get up and prepare for your working journey. You arrived early, thinking no one would be there yet. Thanks to Viktor and his words you remembered Jayce wouldn’t be there for the morning. It was enough to give you time to think.

You weren’t sure if you could tell him the truth. What if he looked at you with the same commiserative look that everyone else when they knew about your ‘trouble’? You wouldn’t be able to stand it, and you didn’t want to hate Jayce.

Empty halls, silence, and stillness. You wished your mind could match the environment. When you arrived at Heimerdinger’s lab, the gate was open, but the door was locked. Did you leave it like this yesterday? With brows furrowed in preoccupation, you open it.

Viktor was sitting in front of the desk, looking at some of the exams you graded two days ago. He didn’t even look at you when you froze in the doorframe, hand firmly grasping the handle.

“You’re early.”

“What are you doing here? Who let you in?” you didn’t mean to sound accusatory, but panic was settling in your stomach, sending you actions about fight or flight.

“Professor Heimerdinger, of course. Because you wanted my help for something related to the grading of the exams.” He gestured towards the pile of papers, glaring at you for the first time. You didn't even dare to say you knew him well, but you could bet he was upset. Truly irritated. “We need to talk, Miss y/n.”

“A-about what?” you hugged a bag against your chest.

“Oh, I think you already know. A pressing matter.” His bright, warm golden eyes were cold and sharp, trying to dissect your thoughts. “About my friend, Jayce.” He put his elbows down on the table, hand rested on the handle of the cane. “And about your dreams.”

#jayce/you #jayce talis x reader #jayce x y/n #jayce x femreader #arcane fanfic #jayce/reader #arcane jayce #jayce x reader #jayce talis #arcane fanfiction #jayce x you #my thingies :)#i'll see you in my dreams you'll see me in your arms

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earlgreydream · 3 years

Text

fed up.

| bucky x reader | smut |

anon requested. reader comes without permission and he punishes her by edging her everyday for like a week straight & your shitty week at work turns into you acting out at home and Bucky is absolutely fed up with your behavior

a/n: both of these are 🥵🥵🥵

cw: edging, orgasm denial, subspace, etc

“Watch your mouth,” Bucky warned after the second time you’d been disrespectful to him.

Your week at work had been incredibly stressful. Your boss had yelled at you, you got blamed for not getting things done on time, even when it wasn’t your fault, and you’d been overwhelmed to the point of tears. You were fed up, and it had put you in a bad mood. You were typically sweet, but the stress brought out your bratty side, and you just couldn’t help but let your frustration seep into your relationship. Bucky was not a dom to test, but you didn’t care.

“You can watch my ass as I walk out the door,” you snapped back, and Bucky turned to you, pushing his tongue against his bottom lip like he always did when he was mad.

“Come here.”

“I’m busy.” You didn’t look up from where you were trying to peel an orange.

“Come here, now.”

“I said-” you started, but he was on his feet and behind you before you could finish your sentence.

The fruit was pried from your hand, Bucky having no patience for your attitude. You were flipped so your back was against the counter, and Bucky grasped your jaw in one of his large hands.

“Knock it off with the fucking attitude.”

His gaze was warning, and you could tell that he was getting more and more frustrated with you. The look in his silver eyes was dangerous, a clear indication you were on your way to getting exactly what you wanted.

You glared at him, dead set on acting out. Your mood was sour, and you wanted to push Bucky’s limits. You wanted him to he as riled as you were, not caring about any consequences.

“What attitude?” Your tone was obnoxious, and Bucky couldn’t take it anymore.

He let go of your jaw, stepping back to look at you. Bucky took a second to breathe, and to think through his next actions, bringing his fiery anger down to a simmer.

He knew you were doing this to get a reaction. He was very aware that you were likely doing this to get him to bend you over the bed and spank you, that was usually the endgame to your brattiness. He was tired of your behavior, and he wasn’t going to give in to what you wanted.

He leaned against the counter opposite of you and picked up your half-peeled orange. You watched him finish it, and take a small slice before handing you the rest of it. He glanced at you briefly before walking back out of the kitchen, leaving you stunned.

You hadn’t expected that, and you followed him to the living room, where he returned to the novel he had been reading when you mouthed off to him. You watched him for a few moments before timidly climbing onto the couch beside of him.

His sudden calmness and disinterest scared you more than his anger, and your attitude crumbled to pieces. You were afraid to bother him, but you laid down with your head on his lap as he read. He set his hand on your side, his thumb lightly brushing over your top every once in a while. He got lost in the novel, and you were nearly asleep on him when he finished.

He finished the book and set it aside, looking down to see you dozing on his lap. You woke up as he carefully slid out from under you, and you watched as he went to shower.

You laid back on the couch, sighing from boredom. Your mind started to wander to what Bucky looked like in the shower, soap lathering all over his body.

You unbuttoned your jeans and slid them down your legs, giving in to how horny you were. You closed your eyes as your hand traveled under your panties, getting yourself off to thoughts of your boyfriend in the shower.

Bucky leaned against the wall and watched you, lured out by the sound of you moaning his name. He watched as you came around your own fingers, your back arching and a loud, high pitched whine leaving your lips.

“You’re really trying to get into trouble, doll.”

Fear sparked through your belly at the sound of his irritated voice, and you quickly removed your hand. He was glaring at you, displeased by you coming without permission.

“I didn’t think you would know,” you admitted honestly, having expected him to take a much longer shower, or hang out in the back of the house.

“No? So it’s okay to break the rules as long as I don’t find out?”

“Well, no...” the whisper caught in your throat, and he raised an eyebrow at you.

“So what were you hoping to happen?” Bucky was causing embarrassment to spread through you, and you felt like a child being scolded for bad behavior.

“I just wanted to get off, because you didn’t-”

“You were acting like a brat, so I didn’t feel that I should help you.”

The statement hung in the air, and your plan and deviance collapsed, your plan to blow off some steam with Bucky quickly fell into shambles.

You didn’t need to explain yourself. Bucky knew your frustrations. Although he was sympathetic, it wasn’t an excuse for your behavior.

The thick silence made you tense, and you swallowed hard, regretting your infractions. Bucky helped you up and told you to go shower, going to busy himself with something else.

You were stunned, opting for a longer shower, a little anxious to face Bucky. When you stepped out of the water, he handed you a towel, waiting for you.

“I’m sorry,” you broke the silence.

Bucky pulled you toward him, giving you a kiss against your wet lips. You looked up at him, and he nudged his nose against yours before speaking.

“Dry off and go lay on the bed. No point in dressing yet.”

You nodded, doing what he asked, feeling sullen. The desire to push back against him and be a brat was gone, faded with his lack of aggression. You were afraid now, unsure of what he was going to do to you, because he certainly wouldn’t let your behavior go unpunished.

You stretched out on the bed, opting to lay on your stomach, hoping your boyfriend would appreciate the view of your ass. Bucky slid his hands up the back of your thighs, squeezing you before pulling your hips up.

“Just let me know if it hurts,” Bucky kissed the back of your shoulder before thrusting into you. A sigh escaped your lips and you squeezed the sheets between your fingers as Bucky maintained a steady rhythm, rocking into you and filling you up.

“James,” you moaned his name, causing him to snap his hips faster against yours.

You tightened around him, teetering on the edge of an orgasm. You couldn’t get there without any stimulation on your clit, and Bucky knew that. He had memorized every inch of your body, everything you needed, and everything you did.

Your muscles went limp as you sank against the mattress, letting him pound into you until you felt him spill into the condom he wore.

“James, please,” you begged, pushing your hips back.

“Please what, doll?” Bucky was punishing you now, you realized.

“Please let me come!”

You had twisted to look at him, and he flipped you onto your back in front of him before stepping off the bed to clean himself up.

“Next week.”

“Next week?” It was almost a scream, and he shot you a look.

“Gotta teach you not to be disrespectful,” Bucky kissed your lips, and you pouted, upset by the aching you felt from your needs being unfulfilled.

“I’m sorry.”

He laid down with you, letting you curl up in his arms. He held you tightly, kissing you until you grew so tired you couldn’t stay awake.

Every day that Bucky got home from work that week, he bent you over whatever surface you were on, fucking you roughly but keeping you from orgasming. By the fourth day you were crying, aching with a more intense need than you had ever experienced.

“Please, I’ll be good, Bucky, I’m-” you whined, tripping over your words as you begged him, only to be shot down with the sweet smile that hid sadistic pleasure of you being denied.

Being denied had put you in an especially subby headspace, and when Bucky was around you clung to him. He made sure to take extra good care of you, knowing you were being good and not getting off by yourself. You’d learned your lesson, hesitant to ever do it again after the week you’d been through.

When it was finally the end of the week, you were almost in subspace from Bucky just picking you up and carrying you to bed.

“You’ve been so good doll, I’m so proud of you,” Bucky kissed you as he laid you down on the mattress, practically tearing your clothes off of you.

“I want to be good for you, James.”

He looked into your wide, glassy eyes, and he pressed his lips against your forehead, reassuring you that you were good, and you made him so happy. You slipped into subspace, your mind clouding up. Bucky recognized the signs, and he kissed you all over and loved on you.

“I’m going to let you come. Sound good, doll?” Bucky hummed against your skin, and you nodded.

“Yes, please.”

He smiled at your sweet voice, dropping between your legs. Your fingers tangled into his hair as his mouth pressed against your sex, his tongue moving through your folds and swiping over your clit. Your whimpers mixed with the lewd sounds of Bucky eating you out, knowing it was the fastest way to get you to come. He loved the feeling of you tugging on his hair, and he pushed two fingers into your heat, dragging against your g-spot while his tongue continued to work at your nerves.

You were crying his name as your legs shook, the pressure finally snapping and granting you the release you had been so desperate for. His name echoed off the walls as you screamed, tightening your thighs around his head.

When he drew up, a pleased grin adorned his face. You struggled to catch your breath, the aftershocks sending little jolts through your body. He couldn’t stop smiling at how adorable you were, and you reached up to him with weak arms, wanting him to hold you. You stammered his name softly, still deep in the subby clouds, and he gave in once he cleaned his face.

“I’m coming, doll, no tears,” he hummed, pulling you onto his lap.

“Don’t like it when you edge me,” you whispered, mumbling softly. He laughed and you buried yourself deeper into him, pulling the blanket tighter over the two of you.

“I’m done edging you,” Bucky promised, handing you a glass of water and gently urging you to drink it. He went through all of the steps of your aftercare, his full attention on you as he broke you out of your cloudy head.

“Next time I’m upset from work, can you just bend me over your knee?” You teased Bucky shyly.

“If you ask nicely.”

You promised to be nice, grinning as he squeezed you in a hug.

1K notes · View notes

inkykeiji · 3 years

Text

beautiful when the damage is done

part one | part two

characters: todoroki touya | dabi, todoroki natsuo

genre: smut laced with angst and a pinch of fluff

notes: part two of getting naughty with natsuo!! please please heed the warnings!! | title cred: sick thoughts by lewis blissett

warnings: 18+ minors dni, dubcon/noncon, sadism, punishment via overstimulation, pseudo-incest (stepcest), vaguely implied incest, emotional manipulation, a hint of degradation, toxic relationships, poly relationship, dom/sub dynamics, a LOT of crying (dacryphilia), slight size kink/size difference, rough sex

words: 4.6k

synopsis:

And you’re both reminded of how privileged you are, being the only two who ever get to witness this side of him, the only two who are fortunate enough to see the person he might’ve been if you stripped away years upon years of trauma and abuse, the person he truly is at the core of his soul, the person he was born as before he was forced to layer himself with thick, protective walls of aggression coated in indifference—and the person who he becomes as he sheds that armor, in the middle of the night when it’s just the three of you, the whole world having fallen away outside the bedroom door.

It’s musty, air thick with the haze of sweat and sex, saturated the smell of tears and cum, so potent you swear you can almost see it in the atmosphere of Touya’s room. Uncontrollable quivers course through your entire body, never-ending chills erupting across bare, damp skin that shines every time it catches in the dim beams coming from Touya’s desk lamp.

Your scalp is still sore from where Touya yanked you off of Natsuo—back in the living room, how many hours ago? It feels as though it’s been forever since then, memory murky and swimming as you try to think—one strong hand wrapped in your hair jerking you up with such force you nearly stumbled. The pain is dull, a throbbing ache that radiates fading waves of hurt along your skull.

It’s constant, though, brewing a headache that is equal parts agony and dehydration, and you wish to rub at the spot, to place your palm over it in a futile attempt to soothe the discomfort at least a little, but you can’t.

Because it feels as if your blood has been replaced with sand, dense and heavy as it clogs your veins, weighing your arms down and keeping them firmly locked around Natsuo’s neck, steadying you in his lap.

But the ache in your scalp is nothing compared to the burn between your legs.

You can feel it, your third orgasm, churning in the depths of your stomach as it builds, a blistering warmth furling into a tight, concentrated ball of fire. It’s almost sickening, now, the heat roiling inside of you as heavy as lead, wracking destruction on your body as tender muscles, already quaking from exhaustion, begin to tense once more, to coil and wind up the way a lithe tiger does right before it strikes.

“Nat-Natsuo, I can’t,” the words wobble as they spill from between clattering teeth, you head shaking sluggishly as fresh tears sting your eyes.

“Yes, you can,” he murmurs softly to you, gentler than he’s ever been before but refusing to slow his movements as he bounces you on his cock, concerned stone eyes searching your face while his fingers flex on your hips, readjusting their grip on the slippery skin.

“You better,” Touya spits from his place on his bed, peering down at the two of you with something akin to disgust, to derision, saturating his features. And it stings, blazing sapphire searing his glare into your skin much like how he had carved his name into you, years ago.

A wet sob hitches in time with Natsuo’s rough thrusts, has you choking on it, concentrated with thick saliva that sticks in your throat and forces your breaths to escape in wheezes, hands clasping tighter behind Natsuo’s neck.

Yet, despite the pain, there are still sparks of pleasure that accompany each catch of your puffy clit on Natsuo’s slick skin, flickers of lust interspersed with those excruciating spikes that shoot through your abdomen.

It hits suddenly, that third orgasm—you’re halfway through your punishment now, Touya reminds you—has your tightly shut eyelids springing open with a gasp, entire body freezing up in Natsuo’s strong grasp, a grunt falling from his chapped lips as he drives his hips to piston into your rigid body.

He follows only a few moments later with a deep groan that rumbles in his chest, body vibrating with the force of it as his thick cock throbs, filling your little cunt with spurt after spurt of cum that feels almost cool in comparison to your scalding insides.

Touya allows half hour breaks between each orgasm—a short refraction period for you and Natsuo to regain infinitesimal amounts of strength—and not a second more, he had spit after the second orgasm, cutting off your plea for just a few more moments of rest, because this is plenty of time, more than you need, really and you should be grateful he’s so generous.

By the time you’re due for your fourth orgasm, you can barely move, and Natsuo doesn’t have the arm strength to hold you up anymore, to force your hips to keep gyrating or to bounce you on his cock, his entire upper half spent.

“Lay her on the floor, then,” Touya instructs coldly, voice firm and void of any compassion, though it’s hard to miss the sadistic glint in his eyes, hard to ignore the way the corners of his lips quirk up in an ill-concealed smile.

The look Natsuo gives him is almost heartbreaking, a puppy looking up at its owner with its tail tucked between its legs, eyebrows knitted together so tightly they crease his forehead, a deep frown—no, pout—etched into his face as he gazes at his big brother, glazed stone eyes pleading.

“Nii-san, can’t we use—”

“No,” Touya cuts him off harshly, sapphire eyes flashing, and Natsuo flinches. “You’re fucking her on the Goddamn floor for all five—it’s part of your punishment,”

Natuso doesn’t argue, but his lips twitch, and his eyes blur, and his nose sniffles, and he gives his brother a curt little nod of understanding, head bowed in submission.

The hardwood is cold against your heated skin, and you exhale a hiss through gritted teeth as Natsuo positions you as gently as he can, one large palm cradling your head, the other positioned on your back, slight tremors running through his exhausted muscles as he reclines you.

A wrecked little whine pries its way past your lips as Natsuo pushes in again, face scrunching up as sharp, needle-like pinpricks shoot through your gut, your raw, sensitive cunt stinging as Natsuo’s cock reopens previous sutures, skin split further, wounds dug deeper.

The sound your skin makes as it scrapes against the hardwood from Natsuo’s clumsy bucks has all three of you cringing, a piercing squeal that only adds to the symphony of your sobs and Natsuo’s grunts, flesh inflamed and chaffed from being repeated rubbed against the surface.

It’s getting harder and harder for you to cum, even with the generous breaks Touya allows, sparks of pleasure faded to mere cinders now, each shallow drag of Natsuo’s cock causing both of your bodies to recoil, and it’s too much, too much.

“Please, nii-chan,” you beg in a tiny whimper, teary eyes flying to Touya’s face, partially shrouded in shadows as glowing sapphire gazes down at you in scrutiny. “S’enough now,”

“We’ve learned our lesson, p-promise,” Natsuo adds, nodding frenetically.

“P-Pinky promise, nii-chan, please, stop,”

Touya scoffs. “You wanted to cum, didn’t you?” he pauses, cobalt eyes darting between your faces, an eyebrow raising in question. “Well, now I’m allowing you to. Now you have my permission; the permission you knew you needed so bad, but refused to request,”

And it’s then that it dawns on each of you that he had heard the both of you, had heard the entire fucking conversation, while he was doing his work in the kitchen.

How could either of you thought that he wouldn’t? How could either of you been so fucking stupid? Nii-san knows everything—nii-san always knows everything.

“Please, please, we’re sorry, nii-san, we’re sorry,”

“We won’t ever do it again!”

The laugh that claws its way up Touya’s throat is soaked with ridicule, and he shakes his head, a gleeful little grin present on his lips, as if he can’t believe what he’s hearing, as if it’s so ludicrous it’s funny.

“Wait, wait, wait—let me get this straight…you two wanted it so bad, and now you have the balls to complain when nii-chan complies?”

His voice is painfully apathetic, almost nonchalant in a way, as if it makes no difference to him even though it so clearly does, or you and Natsuo wouldn’t be shivering messes of tangled limbs on the floor.

Excuses begin tumbling from two pairs of lips, words stuttered and choked on and sandwiched between pleads and apologies, jumbling together in a mess of garbled, wet, desperate sounds.

“Enough,” Touya growls, and both voices cut off in an instant. “I don’t want to fucking hear it anymore! Keep acting like ungrateful little brats and I’ll make this punishment longer, I swear to God,”

But you can’t halt the words bubbling up past your lips, regardless of Touya’s threat, regardless of the fact that you know he’s deadly serious. They’re compulsive, automatic, almost instinctual in nature as you seek out comfort, hunt for solace and fragments of relief in the hulking man blanketing you.

“I-I don’t wanna anymore, Natsuo,” you’re weeping into his chest, hot tears leaking from the corners of tightly shut eyes, streaming down the sides of your head and into your hair. “I don’t wanna,”

“I know, baby, I know,” Natsuo murmurs, though his bottom lip is beginning to tremble.

“Make him stop, Natsuo, make nii-chan stop,”

“I can’t,” his voice breaks on the word, facial features saturated in concern, in fear, wincing as if it physically pains him to deny you. “You know I would if I could,” he nearly whimpers, and his eyes search yours almost frantically, as if he’s begging you to understand. “But I can’t,”

But your head is shaking as you wail louder, fingers weakly curling against his skin, nails pressing into the flesh of his shoulders and clinging to him.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Natsuo’s saying, the words cracking in his throat, voice hoarse. He pauses, clearing it twice, eyes closing briefly as he sighs out a slow, deep, stammering breath, gathering his strength. “One more after this, princess,” he begins as his hips start to speed up their rutting, procuring a yelp from you. “That’s it, jus’ one more after this one. C’mon, we can do it,”

“No, no, no,” you chant as pretty, gleaming tears roll down your face. And you can see it, the potent guilt swirling in his gunmetal eyes, from the way his pupils expand as they focus on the salt water sullying your cheeks, from the way his cock twitches despite it all. “I don’wanna, I don’wanna, stop, Natsuo, stop,”

His motions pause immediately, the moment the word falls from your lips, but he starts up just as quickly as Touya dictates from his spot on the mattress above.

“Stop, and I’ll add another two,” he promises, ruthless and unforgiving. Chills skitter along your glistening skin, erupting across your damp body at his tone. Both of you know he isn’t bluffing, that he’ll add as many orgasms as he wants to, and that he’ll continue to pull them from your fatigued and worn-out bodies one way or another, even if he has to do it completely by himself.

“Focus on me,” Natsuo instructs gently, though there’s a sense of urgency in his voice, a frenzied need to calm you down before Touya loses his patience completely. “I’ll take care of it, okay? Just focus on me, look at me,”

So you do, blinking the bleariness from your gaze as you direct all of your attention to him. And although there’s that ever-present guilt still swimming in his irises, in his unshed tears, there’s also love in his stare, so much love it’s nearly overflowing, overpowering the remorse and instilling a deep sense of comfort in your stammering chest.

Because at least you’re not alone in this; at least you have each other—each other to find comfort in, to cry and whine and beg with, to protect.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he’s whispering over your wails like a broken mantra, those tears that have been glazing his eyes, that have been collecting behind his lashline, finally beginning to fall.

His hips speed up, as fast as he possibly can as he gathers every last ounce of power and manages to wring another one out of you, another one out of himself, sore cunt clenching painfully around him, your fourth orgasm feeling as if it’s been punched out of you, despite the fact that Natsuo’s thrusts have been shallow.

And by the time your fifth orgasm rolls around, you’re nothing more than Jell-o in the shape of a human, though Natsuo’s not much better, barely able to move other than the uneven rutting of his hips, a crushing deadweight on top of you as his weary hips give pitiful little thrusts, pubic bone dragging across your hypersensitive clit, every tug against it ripping another ragged cry from your throat.

But you’re having trouble, both of you struggling to do anything other than feebly hump against each other, unable to secure enough strength to pump—to milk—that final orgasm out of yourselves, sniveling little protests punctuated by wrecked sobs leaking from your mouths.

Touya’s pissed—beyond pissed—sharp jaw clenching while seething insults burn his tongue and slice your skin, berating the both of you for being so fucking weak, so fucking pathetic, because he’s forced more orgasms out of the both of you before, so why is this so fucking difficult?

Touya’s too stubborn, and he refuses to end the punishment early irrespective of the fact that you’re both entirely drained, reminding you in a callous voice that you each must cum five times before it’s over while he aggressively roots through one of his desk drawers, snickering to himself when he finds what he’s looking for, hooking his index finger in it and pulling it out.

And the look on his face when he turns back to face you and Natsuo is positively petrifying, idly swinging the cockring around on his finger as his head tilts slightly, observing the both of you with that sharp smile you’ve come to know so well on his lips, eyes glittering with pure delight, features lit up with his own personal brand of sadistic excitement.

Natsuo starts to say something, voice forming around a word that sounds suspiciously similar to no, but he catches himself before it fully leaves his mouth, pressing quivering lips together tightly as he stares up at his brother with wet eyes.

Touya chuckles, raising an eyebrow with that trademark lopsided smirk, as if he’s challenging Natsuo to dispute him, to resist.

He doesn’t, of course, because he never would, but he does finally allow full shuddery sobs to escape his chest, Touya’s condescending shh’s and hush, now’s doing nothing to calm them as he slides the cockring on.

Natsuo nearly howls when Touya turns the tiny, pretty pink device on, his entire body jerking with that initial vibration.

“The faster you cum, the faster I’ll take it off,” Touya says calmly over the stifled little shrieks Natsuo’s continulously trying to swallow back down, nodding his understanding as he repositions himself between your thighs, holding his vibrating cock in one massive palm as he guides himself back into you.

And you want to tell him no!, don’t!, stop!, you want to shove him off, to kick and scream and beg and cry, but your heavy head sluggishly lolling from side to side seems to be all you can manage, words snagging in your throat, nothing more than incoherent babbling leaving your lips.

Because you can barely speak, barely think, barely breathe, vision fading in and out of focus as Natsuo rocks stuttering hips against yours, warm salt water rolling down the bridge of his nose, dripping onto your cheeks and mixing with yours. You’re both more each other, more one than two separate entities now, spit and cum and tears so interspersed you can’t tell which belongs to who anymore, limbs and fluids, thoughts and sounds, endlessly flowing into one another.

“Tell her to behave, Natsuo,” Touya barks, though there’s twisted amusement dancing in his eyes as he observes. “Tell her to finish the fucking punishment,”

And Natsuo, ever the perfectly trained pet, does as he says immediately.

“We can—We can do it,” Natsuo keens from above you, full body shudders wracking his hulking form, alabaster hair clinging to his forehead in uneven clumps, drenched in sweat as he forces words through his own bawling, hips grinding into yours. “We can do it, let’s be good for nii-san, yeah? L-Let’s make nii-san proud—c’mon, you wanna make him proud, don’t you?”

You do—of course you do. You never want anything else. But…But you’re not entirely sure you can, hiccupped sobs peppering your slurred words. Unconsciousness tugs at the edges of your hazy mind, whispers enticing promises of repose and relaxation as weighted eyelids begin to sag.

“Okay, okay, okay,” Natsuo cuts you off gently, shaky knuckles brushing against your cheek in a poor imitation of a caress. “I’ll do it, baby, I’ll do it,”

You don’t even remember cumming a fifth time, only a feeling of hot coals smoldering in the pit of your stomach, but you must have, because then Touya’s hooking his arms under Natsuo’s and dragging him off of you, propping him up against the side of the bed and kneeling as lithe fingers remove the toy from his cock.

And the sense of relief that seeps into your body and floods your veins is so intense it almost feels like a rush of adrenaline instead. You did it. You both did it. Finally, it is over.

Or so you and Natsuo thought.

—

Spikes of fear piece through his heart as Natsuo blearily watches Touya gather your limp body in his arms, hauling you up with a soft grunt.

And it’s astounding, the way you still curl into him, still seek that familiarity, that solace, in his chest, mumbled out honorific padded by hitched half-sobs as you cling to him. It’s astounding, because even after all he’s done to you, after everything he just put the two of you through, you will crawl back to him each and every time, over shards of glass on your hands and knees with his name on your lips—his name in devotion, in submission, in love—without a single question asked.

And Natsuo realizes that he would, too.

The thought inspires a bittersweet taste to settle on his tongue, like sticky toffee and black coffee, alien feelings swirling in his chest, clashes of consoling blooms of warmth and spiky shards of ice.

But Natsuo doesn’t have time to meditate on his newfound emotions, your faint pleas recapturing his attention.

“I’m sorry, baby,” Touya murmurs, large hands repositioning you.

And he really does sound sorry, even though Natsuo knows he isn’t.

“Wh-What are you…”

“It isn’t over yet,” Touya says simply, though the smile stretched taut across his face is severe, terrifying, azure eyes sparkling in merciless amusement at the horror that shows on Natsuo’s face when he realizes, eyes widening as they fill with thick tears again, bottom lip jutting out into an involuntary pout as panic surges through his veins.

His heart palpitates violently against his ribcage, tongue turned to cotton as worry signs itself in the creases of his forehead.

“Nii-san,” Natsuo begins cautiously, trying in vain to keep his voice steady. “I don’t think—I-I mean, is that really necessary?”

“Of course it is,” his big brother responds without looking at him, preoccupied with folding your lifeless limbs up, knees bent and pressed to your chest.

“Why?” the word slips out without Natsuo’s permission, grey eyes widening in shock as he swallows thickly, shaking his head a little as if to say I didn’t mean to!, though Touya doesn’t seem to mind.

“Because the overstimulation was her punishment,” Touya glances over at him, the amusement dancing in his eyes turned vicious as his smile stretches wider—so wide Natsuo’s surprised it doesn’t split his face clean in two—cruel and brutal. “This is yours,”

Natsuo isn’t quite sure he understands, brain doused in a thick fog and having difficulty grasping the concept, the knowledge of what his nii-san truly means turning to dense, ashy smoke any time he tries to grasp it, metaphorically slipping through his fingers.

But then you’re speaking again, and Natsuo’s head whips towards you, chest tightening at how completely wrecked you sound.

“No, please, no more,” the words gurgle in your throat, escaping as nothing more but jumbled, spit-soaked whines that have Touya chuckling as he shoves his cock into your aching little hole.

“You’re in no position to be making demands, princess,” he speaks through a patronizing pout, a mockery of your own expression, voice syrupy and supercilious. “If you weren’t such a needy little whore always desperate for a hard cock to grind on, this wouldn’t be happening,”

The words are spit in the same demeaning tone Touya had been using earlier, the same demeaning tone he always uses, and Natsuo’s powerless to stop the words flowing from his mouth.

“It’s not your fault, sweetheart,” he reassures you, though his voice cracks under the emotion, words wavering as his chin trembles.

“You’re right,” Touya muses, slight breathlessness the only indication that he’s railing the absolute life out of you. “It’s yours,”

And suddenly, Natsuo understands what nii-san had meant when he said this was his punishment.

Because he’s right.

It’s got to be the harshest punishment Touya’s ever bestowed on him.

Because it’s hard to watch the way your lax, abused body is forced to just take it, Touya’s thrusts so rough they jostle you up the mattress; even harder to hear as you bawl and beg and scream, and Natsuo’s nose twitches as the threat of new tears climbs up his throat, lodging in the column as he fights against them.

He feels sick, like some sort of depraved pervert, for the weak twitches his cock gives, for the faint embers that flicker in the pit of his stomach, igniting a dull blaze as he watches, almost entranced by the grotesque situation unfolding in front of him. He feels sicker, knowing that both of those would be stronger, much stronger, had Touya not forced him to fuck his entire soul into you.

And Touya—Well, Touya’s been hard from it all—high from it all—the whole time, and Natsuo can almost see the sheer power flowing through his veins, an aura that envelopes him, that radiates off of him in intoxicating waves, that licks at his skin like flames of blue fire. Natsuo bets—no, knows— it’s better than any drug Touya’s ever taken.

Protests marinate on his tongue, bitter and acidic, pleads of stop and enough scraping against the walls of his throat as he forcefully swallows them back down, emitting pathetic little whimpers in their place.

Because he knows if he starts, Touya will only make it worse for you, so he suffers in silence, readily agreeing with Touya every time he reminds Natsuo that this is all his fault and neither of you would be in pain if Natsuo could’ve just kept it in his fucking pants for a few minutes longer.

It hurts, because it’s true, nii-san’s words sending thick, piercing stakes spearing through Natsuo’s heart, through Natsuo’s very soul, straight to the core of his body. Acrid bile climbs up his throat as Touya’s moans mingle with your sobs, so exhausted that they’re barely more than little wheezes at this point. It’s abundantly clear that Touya doesn’t feel a shred of remorse, and that makes Natsuo feel even worse—if only he had said no, if only he had waited and asked, if only he had been stronger, you wouldn’t be suffering.

The tears collecting in the column of his throat sprout talons and claw their way up, past his steadily weaking resolve, prying their way through his lips in the form of jagged sobs.

It’s magnificent, really, the way Touya can render Natsuo a snotty, shivering mess with only a few choice words. And Natsuo—Natsuo only ever cries in front of his big brother, only ever cries for his big brother, full-on weeping that slashes through his sputtering chest, coughing around and choking on his own sobs of nii-san, I’m sorry!

But it ends eventually, finally, Touya tearing one last orgasm from you, gentle words contradicting his cruel, ruthless actions, murmurs of come on baby, just one more, one more for nii-chan. You can do this for nii-chan, can’t you? You can be a good little girl for me and cum one more time, right? lingering on his lips

And somehow, you find the strength to obey, to be his good baby, because you always do, entire body convulsing with a raspy shriek of the honorific, Touya praising you only moments later as his hips still and his cock pumps you full.

—

It’s cute, really, how fucked out the two of you are. Touya thinks you’re both so beautiful when you’re like this, with glassy eyes and tearstained cheeks, lashes clumped together with residual water and swollen faces stained with streaks of salt, all dazed and fucked and stupid for him, from him.

Natsuo’s doing better than you are, of course—Natsuo wasn’t subjected to being fucked again. But Natsuo still needs to rest, Touya softly tutting his tongue with a disapproving shake of his head as Natsuo attempts to aid him with your aftercare, movements clumsy as he stumbles to his feet, inept and awkward as he blunders towards you.

“No,” Touya’s large hands wrap around his younger brother’s shoulders, halting him, steadying him, forcing Natsuo to look at him. “You rest,” he instructs sternly, guiding Natsuo back to his previous spot and delicately depositing him onto the desk chair. “I’ll get to you in a minute, okay, Natsuo-kun?”

Natsuo hums out an affirmation, eyes closing briefly as Touya’s fingertips affectionately trace the curve of his cheek, palm patting it once.

It’s in moments such as these, nights after hours and hours of extreme punishment, that Touya automatically, perhaps unknowingly, slips into Big Brother mode, and you’re reminded of the age gap between them.

Because even though Natsuo’s bigger than Touya, taller than Touya, beefier than Touya, he looks so tiny under his older brother’s protective gaze.

You both must reek terribly, covered in drool and sweat and cum, must look like hot messes, strands of tangled hair saturated with salt and sticking to your cheeks, but your Touya-nii is still right there regardless, whispering the sweetest affirmations and the tenderest praises to the both of you as he wipes each of you down with a damp cloth infused with lavender, telling the both of you how good you did, how proud you made nii-san, how pretty both of you are.

Nimble fingers spend a decent amount of time rubbing soothing circles of moisturizing cream into each of you, your most sensitive skin rubbed raw, aching and puffy from such intense maltreatment, before Touya-nii dresses each of you in his softest, comfiest clothes, steady stream of pure, unadulterated love never stopping as it pours from his lips.

You’re all each other need, after all; because he loves you both more than he could ever put into words—and you each love him back just the same—and that will always be more than enough.

Touya reaches across your body, arm a pleasant, heavy weight as it rests on you, and runs slender fingers through Natsuo’s sweaty hair as you snuggle into your nii-chan’s chest, and Natsuo nearly mewls, nuzzling into his nii-san’s touch as Touya instructs the both of you to sleep, now, a film playing softly in the background as the three of you drift into unconsciousness together.

#todoroki touya x reader #dabi x reader #dabi smut #natsuo smut #todoroki natsuo x reader #AAAAAAAH jesus finally #this is A Lot lol #tw:incest #tw noncon

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