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flusteredloser · 3 years

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subzero - beverly marsh x fem!reader

it fandom week: huddling for warmth

content warnings: mentions of intoxication, smoking, swearing, fire, harmless threats, inhaler abuse, enemies to lovers, also i’m making bev tall bc i love tall gals word count: 3k

at the ripe age of ten years old, you knew you wanted to become a mother. the appeal of bouncing children in your lap, tucking them into bed, and the empowering feeling of calming tantrums down was something you naively believed was your destiny. now, ten-year-old you was never wrong, you knew that. but what you didn’t expect was for your dream to come true at eighteen, stuck mothering six drunken teenage sons during a hailstorm’s power outage.

“edward. kaspbrak. i swear to god, if you do not go to sleep right now i will knock you out with your own inhaler.”

eddie groans at your words, still teeter-tottering towards the mattress. richie was already in bed, practically dead for a past half-hour.

thankfully, he didn’t wake up from his comatose state when eddie gracefully slammed headfirst into the bed. you held your breath as the bed shook under eddie’s weight. drunken eddie was already a nightmare, what more, an even worse nightmare when catalysed with richie’s antics. mike was slightly more useful. after throwing up in almost every sink in the house, he helped carry a very tipsy ben up the stairs and they were now both unconscious down the hall. bill wasn't exactly a disturbance, but he was incredibly determined to show us that he could play the piano right now if asked, that his skills were only heightened after dark. (the fact that bill had never touched a piano in his life, or that bev's apartment didn't even have a piano wasn't stopping him). bev was taking care of them in the other room, and based on the muffled conversation, was still trying to coax bill to sleep. you and bev being the losers’ designated sober pair for tonight was the worst idea that had ever occurred to anyone. ever. the eight of you agreed. if you needed something done, you’d never leave the two of you to do it together. but stan had explained that the rotation required the two of you to pair up tonight, no matter what. you didn’t quite understand the necessity of it but in all honesty, you’d rather put up with bev’s clownery than upset stan further. speaking of, you glance at the lump on the floor, peacefully swaddled and engulfed in the massive duvet. you should probably check on stan’s breathing later.

now, though, you still had one child left.

hearing the sound of an air pump go off from the bed, you walk back to eddie.

“but i’m so cold and i’m not even tired,” said eddie, his inhaler still jammed in his mouth.

“eddie, the power will be back in no time, and if you keep pumping that shit in your mouth, you’re never going to feel tired,” you sigh, taking the aspirator away.

“no, but seriously.” eddie continues, his eyes filled with sleep-deprived mania. “i swear, i’m like wide awake, i don’t even need sleep right now, it’s technically the morning and nO WHAT THE HELL-”

clutching the pump in your hand, you watch the white vapour shoot against eddie’s face. nothing but eddie’s exasperated coughing filled the room.

“i told you, i’m not afraid to use this.”

“i thought...you said...you were going to...knock me out with it,” eddie questioned between coughs.

you narrow your eyes at him, “you keep this up and i will knock you with it.”

“wow, you really are gonna make a great mother someday.” you let out a deep groan, turning to see where the new voice came from. leaning against the doorframe with a lit cigarette between her fingers was bev in all her smug glory.

“you know, after dealing with kaspbrak tonight, he makes you look like an angel,” you roll your eyes.

“hey!” you hear a muffled voice from under the blanket.

“go to sleep, pretty boy,” bev chuckles, some smoke escaping with her laugh, “i know it’s hard after seeing her troll face but you have to try.”

you rolled your eyes again at the two giggles in the room, shuffling around the bed, carefully stepping around stan’s body. you continue to walk past bev and into the hall.

the house was silent. no one lived here anymore but bev since you guys graduated, and since mr. marsh stopped residing here, the apartment had an almost peaceful quality.

walking past the guest room, you grin at the sight of mike, ben, and bill entwined together on the floor. oh, how much tamer this group would’ve been compared to the menaces next door.

you snatch your backpack from the living room sofa and dug through the pockets anxiously. searching against the walls of your bag and still finding nothing, you began to feel more and more nervous. “fucking hell, where is it,” you whisper. at this rate, you weren’t sure if the thumping in your ears was from the sound of sharp hail hitting the windows or your heart beating in your throat. you stand up in a deeper panic, aggressively patting your pockets up and down.

“you know, as entertaining as this is to watch, i almost feel bad.”

“bev..." you sigh. "i am not in the mood."

“why? too busy looking for your pack of camels?” you hear the sound of a familiar cardboard flap opening, “personally, i’m more of a marlboro girl but i mean, these work too.”

you spin around and storm up to bev, snatching the lit cigarette from her lips. “that’s mine?”

she smirks, “you left your backpack open, it was practically an invitation.”

“an invitation for you to go through my shit?” you hissed, dangling the ignited end near her face.

she snatched her cig back and mockingly dangling it back near your face, “yeah, a formal invitation for me to smoke off this monstrosity of a temperature. what do you want, an apology too? i can write you one asap, let me find bill’s notebook-”

taking the cig back once more, you snap. "you’re such an ass, bev.”

she grins, following closely behind you. she could feel the heat radiating off of your body, and she secretly hoped you’d accidentally stop in your tracks so she could run into you. in the name of transferring body heat and what not. shaking off these thoughts that were hijacking her brain, she makes a kissy sound, “c’mon, you know you love it.”

“mmhm sure, bev. because i’m really into girls stealing my shit.”

pinching the flame from the cig and dumping it in the tray, she leads the both of you into the supply closet. she chuckles as she leans against the doorway, leaving you feeling trapped in the tight room. you knew she was laughing because you insisted on going in first and now that you were the one having to get the stuff, but you didn’t quite register that the things you needed was on the top shelf. up high stood a high stack of blankets. and they looked like they could singlehandedly cure the subzero temperature.

clearly, you must have been looking up at the blankets for a moment too long because bev gave up and leaned forwards to grab the stack. the sensation of her flushed against your back was enough to make you dizzy, not to mention how absolutely warm she was. and of course... it was bev.

bev. the girl who you rolled your eyes at every day, the girl who taunts you at any given minute, the girl you would, and had, risked your life for. you guys never talk about neibolt, but sometimes you catch yourself thinking of what could have happened if it went south. if you hadn’t grabbed her in time, and if you didn’t switch places just before pennywise launched at you... absentmindedly tracing the scar down your stomach, you think of the absolute lack of regret you feel to this day. you always had this joke that you wanted to kill her, but how much of that was true?

“darling, did the cold already go and rot your brain?” bev faux-pouts, “not that there was much to begin with, but i’m still worried.” the stack of blankets was now under her arms with one stretched out as she began to wrap it around herself.

never mind. sometimes you did want to kill her.

by habit, you went on your tip toes in order to get to bev’s face, but she was already crouched a couple inches from your face. trying to keep your racing heart under wraps, you choke out a semi-convincing “don’t make me murder you, beverly.”

she grins back your serious face. "aww no, i couldn’t let you do that. the knives and other weapons are also stored up there.” she teases, slinging her arm around your shoulder and dragging you to deliver the blankets to the boys.

"oh, fuck off." you shove bev's arm off of you and walked back into richie, eddie, and stan's room. true to your word, you kneeled down to the floor and gently rolled stan’s head towards you. placing your two fingers against his pulse point, you giggle to yourself at the absurd action. if it wasn’t already obvious that he was indeed alive, he groans under you, but you shush him in time. lightly stroking his curls, you whisper. "i’m just checking up on you, stan,” placing the second blanket onto him. he groaned back.

quietly tip-toeing towards the bed, you tossed the other blanket over richie and eddie. “i swear, these guys would be dead already without us.” you laugh to yourself.

a dim light flickers from the living room and casts a light across the hall. you shut the door behind you as you leave, going into the living room to see bev on the sofa, engulfed in her own large fleece blanket. the only thing peeking out was her face and hands as her she alternated flickering her lighter's warmth on her fingers.

without thinking, you plop by her on the sofa. “whatcha doing there, you pyro?”

“it’s getting so fucking cold,” bev half-heartedly jokes. you can see her eyebrows are furrowed in concentration, but her voice was so contradictingly soft it made your heart melt.

you extended your open hand to her and she stared at it. “blood oath part two? promise to never be sober again during a powercut?”

“i wish, and shut up. don’t play dumb with me, beverly.”

you notice the slightest tinge in her cheeks as she places her hand along with her lighter in yours. you immediately recoil at her freezing fingertips and the lighter clatters to the ground. bev rolls her eyes and shifts away, “first you want to hold my hand, secondly you’re acting like i have fucking HIV.”

“firstly, smartass, i’d still hold your hand if you had HIV-”

“aww-”

“because it’s a blood-borne pathogen so unless you bleed or shit or lactate on my hand, i’m safe.”

bev’s face scrunches up. “how romantic.”

“now shut it and give me your hand already.” you say, placing your palm out for her again.

now bev is the one rolling her eyes at you for a change. she gives you her hand, much slower this time though, careful not to have you pull away again. not having you pull away? why was this something she was considering?

immediately, bev felt the heat from your skin radiate against hers’, instantly igniting her skin in goosebumps. she instinctively gave you her other hand and you take with a soft smile.

“now...why the hell are you built like a goddamn radiator.” bev grumbled, rubbing her hands together under yours.

“well, i don’t see you complaining, do i?” you raise your eyebrows.

“i’m not mad...it’s just that it’s not like you need it,” bev says between chuckles, “you’re like five feet tall. not exactly a lot of surface area to heat up.”

“you’re such a dick, bev. you’re losing your hand-holding privileges,” you side-eye, pulling your warm fingers away.

she gasped, “oh, don’t you dare.”

“yes, i do. it’s not like i’m dying to feel your freezing hands on me, bev.” you desperately try to make the statement sound as sarcastic as you can, but it ends up coming out much shakier than expected.

even in the dark, you can see the glint of bev’s mischievous grin. “oh really? you don’t want to feel my freezing hands?” “is that a trick question?” you sigh exasperatedly, “because if you as much as-”

suddenly, you feel bev’s ice-cold fingers press against the skin on your ribcage and you immediately squeal. you clamp your hand over your mouth at the scare, you try and contain the others sounds that escape you as she further presses her freezing hands against your warm skin. scrambling away from her grasp, you slap the back of her head.

“you stop that right now or i will leave you on your own porch to freeze,” you threaten through gritted teeth.

“mmhm, like you would.” she teases, continuing to press the pads of her still-cold fingertips into your stomach.

you felt your heart rate rise significantly, to the point that you were sure that your unknown warmness was actually due to bev making the blood pump 10x more than normal. every braincell swimming inside your head was on the brink of short-circuiting at the feeling of bev’s hands dancing along the edge of your bra. what the hell is she thinking?

after a couple more rounds of her threatening to freeze your midriff and you threatening to crack open a window, you both surrender and allow her keep her hands clasped between yours, resting atop your chest.

“are you not getting any warmer?” you groan, forcing yourself to snap out of your own feelings.

“hey, you’re the hot-pack here. do you think i’m feeling any warmer?” she goes back to press her freezing palms against your stomach.

“no, no, no, do not do that again.”

bev sighs, “then what the hell am i supposed to do?” she sits upright and tightens the blanket around her head. shifting away from you, she shivers her way back into the other end of the sofa. “i’m dressed in triple the layers you are, moved around way more than you have, i’m even wearing this gigantic fleece eyesore-”

“oh for fuck’s sake just come back here.” you roll your eyes.

bev moves about an inch closer.

you feel your heart constrict in your chest and you let yourself say it before you could think it any further, “i said, come here.” you lift one of your arms and gesture for her to come closer. scooting your body near to the end of the sofa, it was clear that the space you made was so she could easily crawl in next to you.

“are- are you... you want me to-”

you’re sure your whole face has gone red. bev she already can’t stand you so why not just make it even more awkward, huh? you bit your tongue gently, calming yourself down. if bev didn’t know that you offered to cuddle with her just because you could, then that was her fault for being so daft. you sigh, resuming back into your deadpan state. “yeah, i can’t listen to another minute of your whinging.”

“no, i heard you, i just-” she stammers, looking equally red herself. you feel a huge tiny sense of pride as you realised you’ve rendered bev speechless. beverly marsh. speechless.

“what are you waiting for?” you tease, “a formal invitation?”

having the upper hand for once was refreshing, if not thrilling. being the one to tease her and watch her become flustered was something you wish could happen more often.

bev’s face breaks out in the softest smile you’ve ever seen. she slowly makes her way over to you, shifting her body close to yours without touching you yet. “is that too much to ask for? a formal invitation?” you let out an unexpected genuine laugh at her silliness and bev giggles in unison. this was different than your default laughter made of semi-amusement and sarcasm. she rests her weight against you, her cheek gently pressing into your collarbone. her fingertips resume their spot against the flushed skin of your stomach and your own cheeks turn red again. there wasn’t a functional reason for her to do that anymore.

“stop that before i regret this, bev.”

“there’s no way in hell you regret this.” she grins, followed by the faintest whisper of an “i sure don’t.”

you were about to reply and perhaps mention how you’d be okay with her falling asleep in your arms, that you could tolerate such juvenile behaviour. you know, in the name of public health and safety, but bev beats you to it.

“just let me warm up here for ten minutes, alright. then you can let go and i’ll sleep on my side right after,” she rushes out.

that wasn’t how you thought it was going to know. your heart sinks slightly at her words but you try not to take it personally. what else could you do? it was almost like a wake-up call, reminding the both of you that this wasn’t normal for you and bev.

after a minute or so, you found yourself absentmindedly weaving your fingers through bev’s auburn hair, gently combing it with your hands like you did earlier with stan. “you have such soft hair,” you whisper against her hair.

you hear her mumble against the blanket indistinguishably and you find yourself closing your eyes at the vibrations of her voice against you. if only bev wanted to stay here like this and this feeling between the two of you could last more than the next ten minutes. you let your eyelids drift down momentarily, and you smile at the thought.

just a couple minutes later, your mind jolts back awake, and your heart sinks at the thought of having to wake her up so she could move to her side of the sofa and sleep. you reach over to feel the ends of her hair between your fingers again, grounding yourself to this feeling one last time before bev had to wake up. once you peel your eyes open however, you immediately shut them against the bright light shining at you. was richie planning on abducting y’all in the middle of the night again? gently prying your eyes open for the second time, you notice the light is shining from the window. you sigh in relief.

wait. the window?

your eyes shoot open fully. the hail had stopped. and it’s day time.

snapping your head down to bev, you take in her figure still fit snugly into your side. her free arm rests across your chest, her legs were entwined with yours. ...and her electric blue eyes stare right into you. your heart instantly jumps into your throat as you scramble for excuses, fuck, anything that would keep you from explaining yourself.

instead, she shifts her body upwards so she’s fit even tighter against your side, placing her face into the crook of your neck. her lips were right at your pulse point, sending your mind spiralling at the thought that she could probably feel how fast your heart was beating right now. her lips move against your skin, saying something barely above a whisper.

“you tell anyone about this and i’ll fucking end you.”

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elysiadjarin · 3 years

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Sword and Shield 10

Tags: Bad Batch x reader (you), fem!coded, poly!relationship, multi-part series, nonhuman!reader, Echo later on

Part 9: Shatter

Warnings: very much 18+, minors DNI you have been warned, TW for trauma and PTSD, PIV unprotected sex (irl please be safe and use protection), everything is consensual, overstimulation, oral, cockwarming, dom/sub interactions, choking, subspace mentions, poly relationship. Also I swear Wrecker will get a chapter too, don’t come at me!!

I know it’s been a while but I hope this long chapter makes up for it!

10: Recover, Relive

Two more smaller missions later, the Bad Batch had been given a break. You’d pushed through the healing and the expected night of nightmares just fine thanks to being able to curl up to the warmth of Tech and Wrecker. The entire team had been pretty careful with you for the past couple of days, letting you have your space to recover while you continued to work alongside them for missions.

Crosshair hadn’t said anything, really, but his willingness to just let you quietly sit in his presence or in the back of his mind and polish your Rifle form was his way of showing support that you appreciated.

You'd been relieved for the break, knowing that you needed a moment to reset and devote everything to recovering. While you'd started to get over the worst nightmares and the last of your injuries had completely healed, you were still struggling with flashbacks and keeping your focus.

Sitting curled up on Hunter's bunk, you leaned your chin against your knees pulled up to your chest and sighed. Everytime you closed your eyes, you could see Skarla's maniacal eyes and bloodstained grin as she reached into your body and reveled in your pain. You could still hear your own screams echoing through your memories. You'd buried them so deep, the inhibitor chips having contributed to the suppression, and now... well, it was coming back and demanding to be dealt with.

The 501st had already helped you deal with so much of your past. But not everything. And this... these memories had been ones that you’d barely disclosed to even them.

“Shiv.”

You looked up to see Hunter standing in front of the bunk, carefully sitting down on the edge. “Oh... hi.” You smiled faintly.

He observed you carefully. “Are you doing okay?”

For a moment, the temptation to just say “I’m fine” hovered on your lips. But you remembered how disappointed all your Vod’ika had been when they discovered you’d been suffering and hadn’t told them. And the Bad Batch... the ones you loved, deserved better. You knew that.

So you looked down at your knees, then back up at him. “A memory for a memory?” you offered.

Surprise flickered through his eyes, then he scooted backward and leaned against the wall. “I guess that’s fair,” he admitted. Eyebrows furrowing, he thought for a minute before finally answering. “There was one mission,” he said slowly. “It was pretty early on. Everything... almost went wrong to the point of failure. In the end, it was my fault that I didn’t listen and got Tech nearly killed.” His chest heaved with a sigh, his head shaking. “It taught me a valuable lesson, and made me a better leader. Tech forgave me. But sometimes... I still hate myself for it.” Bitterness laced his tone. “I can still hear him screaming in pain, and remember how I felt when I realized what I’d done. I’ll never forget how my own stupidity and pride allowed me to fail the team. In some ways... what happened to you on our first mission reminded me of that.”

You sat in silence for a minute, mulling over his story. In retrospect, it would make sense why Hunter had seemed to loathe himself overmuch and take too much blame for your injury on that mission. Still, you knew that most of it had been your own fault for getting distracted and allowing yourself to get sidetracked from the mission.

“Skarla,” you said abruptly. You felt his surprise over the Bond before it faded away. “She...” Your lips twisted. “She is who she is for a reason. But she’s also... extremely cruel. I... I can survive and heal from wounds that most can’t, because of what I am,” you said, feeling a bit uncomfortable. “So my wounds sometimes— they seem a lot worse to others than to me because my scale of survival is different. Skarla has... well,” you said, shifting, “she’s well aware of that fact. Every time I would fail to defeat the Guardian, she would be allowed to punish me for fifteen minutes in whatever way she pleased.”

Fifteen minutes of Nine Corellian Hells. Fifteen minutes of begging for death.

“I don’t know how many times I’ve been torn open, ribs cracked, my guts rearranged,” you said, exhaustion lining your voice. “Honestly, I’ve forgotten a lot of it. My brain... couldn’t handle keeping the memories and still staying sane, I was told. I guess it’s better I don’t. What I do still remember... it haunts me. Just the memory of the pain, wishing for death. Staring up at the ceiling of the chamber and hearing my own blood splatter against the walls, hearing myself scream like a stranger. They’re some of my worst memories. Being back there... it was hard but...” You looked down thoughtfully at your hands.

“As hard as it was... it wasn’t unbearable. Not anymore. Knowing that- that all of you were there, and that— that you believed in me, trusted me... Even Tech: he trusted me. It gave me a strength to face not just my past but my nightmares and memories now because... because I have all of you.” You gave Hunter a small but genuine smile. “Being able to feel that strength... it helped me to defeat my past.”

Hunter met your gaze with a softness in his eyes that warmed you. He held out his hand, and you took it gratefully. “We’re here for you, Shiv. In whatever way you need.”

You nodded, then scooted closer to him and leaned into his side. “I’m here, too. I want... I want to return the strength you’ve given me.”

He pressed a kiss to the side of your head, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you into him. “You do already. In more ways than you know.”

Despite yourself, you had to duck your head as heat rose to your face. Your mind wouldn’t stop supplying you with memories of Hunter thrusting into you, his hands gripped around your waist and siding down your back, pulling you into his hips. His face buried between your legs, fingers sliding into you— Crosshair’s lithe fingers wrapping around your throat as Hunter came inside you, moaning—

Hunter let out a quiet chuckle. “Oh, did you remember something else in particular, Shiv?”

Thoroughly embarrassed, you buried your face in your hands with a whimper, knowing he could feel the heat coming from you and probably even smell you at this point. But for some reason... the memories wouldn’t stop. You.... wanted it. Wanted him.

Hunter’s mouth brushed against your throat, even as he pulled you back and into his chest. “If you want to make new memories, I’d be glad to help with that.”

You whined, biting your lips. “I...”

He kissed your neck, sliding up to your jaw. His hand reached up and gently tilted your chin to his face. “Is this what you want, Shiv?” he asked it in a low, husky tone, his dark eyes darting down to your mouth with a flare of desire.

You swallowed, then nodded. Yes. You wanted Hunter.

He bent and kissed you. His kiss this time was a bit different. Maybe because this time you were alone, you didn’t know, but... there was something about his kiss that was more tender, more... slow, as though he were savoring you, memorizing the feel of your lips against his.

“Come here,” Hunter rasped, turning you towards himself. Reaching up, he pulled his shirt off and dragged you close again, his hands sliding down your back as he kissed you. His mouth was hungry, his hands taking yours and placing them against his chest. His fingers gently slid under your top, and he pulled back for a moment.

“Can I?”

You nodded shyly, letting him slide your shirt and bra off. His hands slid up, cupping your breasts in his hands and admiring them for a moment.

“Can’t blame Tech for being obsessed,” Hunter admitted after a moment, teasing your nipples with his fingers.

You whimpered, shivering under the touch as you bit your lip. His calloused hands were warm and firm, and the deft confidence in the way he touched you brought back memories of his hands effortlessly wielding you as a blaster. Hunter’s touch was one of a leader, confident and respectful of the power he held, knowing its limits and its capacities and treating it accordingly.

“So you feel that, too,” Hunter murmured, making you realize that his Bond with you was alight with shared sensation.

His hand moved down, splaying over your bared stomach. He paused, his eyes curious as he simply gazed at his fingers, his palm covering your navel. Your chest heaved with breath as you wondered what he was thinking. A little embarrassed at the intensity that had crept into his gaze, your fingers twitched on the waist of his trousers.

Hunter bent forward, then, and caught your mouth in a long, languid kiss that brimmed with appreciation. His hands swept down to your waist, settling on your hips. “You’re beautiful, Shiv,” he murmured against your mouth.

A little surprised, you pulled back to blink up at him. Hunter had never really struck you as one to pay attention to that sort of thing, so his soft, earnest comment surprised you.

He reached up, brushing a piece of hair behind your ear. “I know all of us love all of you, and admittedly some of us might be especially appreciative of specific things. But whenever I see you, all I think of is... you,” he said slowly, eyes trailing over your face. “Watching you interact with the team, seeing you get excited when you’re successful in Transference, or even just... sitting on a bunk somewhere. I think just your astral form is enough for me to know it’s you, mesh’la.” He leaned his forehead against yours.

Your heart skipped a beat, and you had to smile and close your eyes. The warmth curled in you, and you let your happiness spill over the Bond.

“Mm. Although I do think that you’re a different kind of pretty when you’re clearly enjoying getting fucked,” Hunter chuckled, his voice deepening as he leaned closer to your ear.

The filthy words accompanied by the way Hunter’s hands sensually trailed up your front made you bite your lip and flush, looking down. Despite yourself, a thought popped into your head and you suddenly giggled, reaching up to press your fingers against your lips.

“Something funny?” Hunter asked, amusement lacing his own voice.

“My Vod’ika,” you giggled. “They’d all be losing their minds if they knew that I—“ you burst into a fresh wave of laughter, leaning your head against his shoulder. “Maker, Kix is protective enough, he’d want to kill all of you- and Fives, oh, Fives—“ Tears of laughter welled in your eyes as you thought about it. Fives wouldn’t know whether to tease you or want to fight the Bad Batch. Hawk and Dogma would be in shock that you were with four people.

Hunter laughed with you, shaking his head. “Not sure if I should laugh or be offended that you’re thinking of other men while I’m touching you,” he teased.

You suppressed your laughter, grinning up at him. “Sorry, Hunter,” you managed. “I promise I’m paying attention to you.” You lifted his hand to your face, leaning your cheek into his palm with a smile.

His eyes darkened, and he tipped you back. Catching you gently, he lowered you onto the bunk and pulled the pillow under your head. Shifting himself above you, he bent to kiss you and pull your body against his. His fingers played against your shorts, and you had to squirm a little at the way your body sparked at the friction. Letting out a little noise into his mouth, you canted your hips up as he ground against you.

Hunter let out a quiet grunt into your mouth, nipping at your lips. “You want these off, mesh’la?” His hands tugged at your shorts.

You lifted your hips, letting him slide them off. To your vague surprise, he left your underwear on. He started to kiss down your neck and chest. His fingers slid around the thin underwear, and he grunted as he felt how slick you’d already gotten. His fingers found barely any friction as they slid into your core.

You gasped, back arching as he pressed his fingers up into you. He worked you in a way that had you whining, entirely at his mercy as he proved how diligent he’d been in exploring your body and leaning your curves and edges. He traveled down your body, kissing your thigh as he continued to work his fingers and stretch you. The way he stared at your drooling core sent a flush of heat through you.

Then his thumb pushed aside more of the underwear, and his face lowered.

You let out a strangled gasp, back arching as your hands flew down and found purchase in his hair. His breath was hot against your core, his tongue dizzyingly familiar with your body. He grunted as your fingers tightened and twisted in his hair, his fingers finding that spot that had you arching into his mouth with a moan.

“Hunter,” you moaned, trembling against him as you felt that coil tighten in your abdomen.

After one last, long lick, Hunter lifted his mouth and licked you off of his lips with a satisfied look. Shifting himself back up your body, he slid his fingers out of you and instead brought them to your mouth.

You let him slide his fingers between your lips, the flavor bursting in your mouth. His fingers pushed against your tongue, and he surveyed you with dark eyes and a lazy smile. After a moment, he pulled his hand away and slid his trousers off, bending to kiss you again. He settled himself between your legs, his cock resting heavily against your core and up your lower belly. Something slick dripped onto your skin, warm and thick.

“Is this okay, Shiv?” Hunter asked, his voice strained.

You nodded, reaching up to slide your hands up his shoulders. Over the Bond, you could feel the way his utter desperation to be inside you heightened. His mind, as he lost control of the Bond, kept focusing on the way your body melted into his hands, the way his body burned as he pressed against you, the way he gravitated towards you. He let out a quiet gasp as his cock slipped against you, his eyes squeezing shut above you.

He slowly, ever so slowly, eased into you. Every inch earned you another low groan, and you had to stare up at his face in awe. Hunter’s face twisted in pleasure, his jaw clenched and his eyelashes fluttering.

“Maker, mesh’la,” he choked, shuddering above you as he completely bottomed out, buried deep inside you. “I can’t— you’re so kriffing tight.” His eyes, when he opened them to stare down at you, looked practically drugged.

You abruptly remembered Hunter’s enhanced senses, especially as a wave came over his side of the Bond of his overwhelmed pleasure. Reaching up, you cupped his face in your hands, trying to make sure he wouldn’t overdo himself.

“Just relax,” you whispered, feeling the way he trembled against you. You knew that the moment he started moving you’d be dangerously close to the edge thanks to his own pleasure he was sharing across the Bond. Not to mention the way Hunter was practically collapsed on top of you, his body pressed against yours, his low groans spilling into your ear as his mouth pressed against your skin. His arms braced himself on either side of you, your legs propped up against his hips.

“Gonna— gonna move,” he hissed, slowly pulling back out so only his tip stayed in you. “Kriff,” he mumbled under his breath.

You were already making sloppy sounds, and you whimpered as he pushed back into you. The way his movements were so precise and sure, the way his mouth pressed against yours with a burning need made that tightness in you start to snap. You whined, already so close to coming.

“You gonna cum, Shiv?” Hunter chuckled, his voice raspy. “You’re so kriffing wet around me.”

You moaned, eyes fluttering as he started to thrust, pitching into you smoothly. His hand reached down between you, and his thumb found your clit.

“You feel so good, so hot and wet and tight,” he murmured, beginning to praise you even as his hips started to stutter. “Kriff, mesh’la, you take me so well. So pretty, under me like this.”

You whimpered, reveling in the soft praises and touches that he showered on you. You could feel him starting to get close himself, his movements a little more erratic as he lost control.

“So lucky to have you, that you love us,” Hunter rasped against your neck, his kiss almost reverent. “Gonna— gonna cum, mesh’la—“

His finger twitched against your clit and you were arching, crying out his name as the heat washed through you, white hot. Pleasure burst behind your eyelids as you came, just as he slammed into you and ground, groaning your name. He spilled into you, filling you up, then shuddered and collapsed against you. His body leaned against yours, his face burying into the crook of your shoulder.

The heat that pooled in your belly as Hunter kept you plugged made your eyelashes flutter. Letting out a soft sigh of contentment, you reached up and gently drew your fingers through his hair.

His chest heaved for breath, and his hands ran down your sides appreciatively. “I love you, so much,” he whispered, his voice getting heavy.

You reached up and pressed a shy kiss to the corner of his lips. “I love you too, Hunter. Thank you for taking care of me.”

He fell asleep rather quickly, though you guessed it was in part due to the overstimulation. You waited until he was asleep before carefully sliding out from underneath him. You quickly adjusted your underwear to catch Hunter’s cum starting to run down your leg. You needed to make it to the fresher, but had to lean against the wall halfway there as your knees almost gave out.

You finally managed to go get yourself cleaned up, and went to go change underwear and fetch your bra. You made rounds to collect laundry, putting in a load and blowing out a breath. Pushing hair away from your face, you went to the common area to go find a T-shirt you knew you’d left in there.

Looking around, you finally caught sight of the large shirt and perked up, going to go grab it and slide it over yourself. Tech was the only other one in the common room, and you made a quick decision as you walked over to him.

“Tech?” you asked softly.

He looked up at you, blinking owlishly as he registered your presence. “Ah, Shiv.” He readjusted his goggles. “Can I assist you with something?”

You tilted your head, clasping the edge of the shirt in your fingers. “If... if you’re not busy, can I— can I talk with you?” you asked, suddenly a bit nervous.

He turned fully toward you. “Sure, Shiv. I was just working on a few odds and ends anyway.”

You glanced down at his legs. “Um, can I— can I sit?”

Some confusion flickered across his face. “Of course-“

You got closer to him and slid into his lap, facing him with your legs on either side of him and your hands twisted in the hem of your shirt. He let out a small noise of surprise, his hands coming up to your hips to steady you.

“I wanted to thank you,” you said softly, still not looking up at his face.

“Thank me? For what, Shiv?” Tech asked curiously. His hands tugged at you, bringing you a little closer to him.

“I know I said it before, but— but I really wanted to thank you properly,” you said, scrambling for words. “For how you trusted me, back during the... the ritual.” You made a little, nervous gesture. “I mean— it means more to me than I think you realize. It’s— the ritual is one that’s... that’s fueled by blood, whether yourself or your Champion. Skarla— she’s always been very powerful and- and she... she was very cruel to me, a long time ago. Going back there was...” your face twisted in misery as you looked down. “It was really difficult, and I— it brought back a lot of fear.”

Taking a breath, you made yourself look up at him. “But you trusted me, believed in me. You didn’t even question me when I led you towards dangerous places, and did everything I asked without hesitating. You trusted me to the point that when faced with something unusual... you readily gave your blood for me.” Your heart was in your throat even as you said it. “It— it meant so much to me, Tech,” your voice wavered, your eyes welling with tears. “The only reason I actually won that match... is because of you.” You met his eyes, trying to convey how much it truly meant.

Tech’s eyes widened as he gazed at you with surprise, his fingers tightening around your waist.

“You gave me the strength I needed to push through, and the way you believed in me...” You reached up and wiped away the grateful tears that had sprang to your eyes. “I fought a battle against my fear and the memories of my failure, too,” you whispered. “But your faith in me was what really gave me the power to win. And I wanted— I needed to thank you. So you know... know what it means to me.”

Tech leaned forward. Your eyes widened as he kissed you, taken a bit aback by the suddenness. But it felt so good, the way his mouth pressed against yours and the way his emotions started to spill over the Bond to you. Tech was... his kiss always made you lean into him, eyes fluttering closed as you melted into the gentle, desperate affection. His precise, clinical nature softened whenever he kissed and touched you.

“I am glad that you are all right,” Tech said, his voice quiet and earnest. “It was... frightening, to see you fight alone. I am pleased to know that I could give you strength in any way I could.”

You leaned forwards and hugged him, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Thank you, Tech.”

“You’re welcome, cyar’ika,” he murmured back. He let out a sigh as you shifted, his hands gripping around your hips. “Shiv— could I ask a favor?”

You blinked, pulling back to look up at him.

He glanced down at the hem of your shirt, and an image flashed across the Bond. You, leaning against Wrecker’s chest, fast asleep, Wrecker’s thick cock buried inside you as your chest rose and fell with breath and your face flushed with the arousal. Color crept up Tech’s neck.

“I— um—“

You looked up at him with a shy smile, a bit embarrassed but also flattered that he seemed to be so enamored with your body as well. Leaning down, you grasped his hand and brought it up to the hem of your shirt, pushing his fingers up under it.

Tech swallowed, his hand trailing upward, sliding to the edge of your bra. He glanced at you for permission, and you answered by reaching down and unzipping his trousers. His breath hitched as you began to slowly pump him, your fingers playing a little with his tip. His hand slid under your bra, brushing over your nipple as you bit your lips at the stimulation. Your body was still a little sensitive after Hunter, and you were starting to feel the tiredness pluck at your eyelids.

Tech slid his fingers around your underwear, only to feel you dripping wet and still leaking a bit of Hunter. He brought his fingers up and didn’t seem to be surprised at the white, simply sticking it in his mouth.

“Shiv,” Tech murmured, bending to press a kiss to your throat.

You scooted forwards, letting him guide himself into you. Squeezing your eyes shut, you had to let out a soft moan as he sank fully into you, stuffing you so perfectly. Tech really was the perfect girth for this, you thought dizzily. He just hit every spot inside you as he stuffed you full and kept you sitting still on his cock. It almost made you feel torn between wanting to move and wanting it to stay there, resting perfectly inside you, lighting you up in the best way possible.

He let out a groan against your ear, his hands keeping your hips pressed against his, keeping you completely pressed into his chest, every curve of your body melting against his. Letting out a shuddering breath, he shifted and scooted forwards, beginning to resume his work.

Despite yourself, you had to open your mouth against the crook of his neck and shoulder, biting down gently and beginning to absently suckle. His skin had a hint of salt, but just the warmth of his skin comforted you, your eyes fluttering closed as you suckled a mark into his neck.

Eventually you fell asleep, happily cradled against him and stuffed completely full.

“Oh, hey, there’s Shiv! I was wondering where she was.”

Stirring, you started to wake up. Reaching up, you rubbed at your eye and felt the yawn build in your mouth.

“You woke her up, Wrecker,” Tech sounded a bit morose.

“Huh? Oh— sorry, Shiv.” Wrecker’s voice sounded closer.

You sat up a little, arms still flung across Tech’s shoulders. Stretching, you let the yawn stretch your mouth and your eyes flutter open. Sleep still sticking in your eyes, you blinked up at Wrecker, lips parted.

Wrecker grinned. “Did you have a good nap?”

You nodded belatedly, reaching up to rub the sleep out of your eyes. For a moment, you just blankly stared at Tech’s collar as you woke up more fully. Then shaking your head, you looked up at his face. He gazed back down at you, his hand lightly resting on your thigh. He brushed his thumb across your skin, and you suddenly realized why your lower body felt warm with a pulsing heat. He was still buried hilt deep inside you, his cock thick and hard as it pressed up inside you.

“You’ve been asleep for a chron,” Tech said, his voice surprisingly even.

Your mind fizzled for a moment. He hadn’t moved for a whole chron? He hadn’t cum, obviously, so... Then your lips parted, and you tilted your head at him. But your breath caught in your throat, and you instead shivered and looked down, your face blooming with warmth. Reaching up, you pressed the back of your hand against your mouth to suppress your whimper.

“Ah— th-thank you, I— I think I needed that nap,” you admitted, trying to scrape yourself together. “Um-“ You glanced up to see Tech’s knowing, little smile that he gave you. His hand slid down to your inner thigh, his fingers pressing into your skin. His eyes glittered with the knowledge that at the moment, the T-shirt was the only thing hiding the way your body was clenching around him, making a wet spot against his trousers, drooling all over him, coating your thighs in slick. Every time he pulsed, you felt his cock press up against your g-spot.

“Wrecker, can you hand Shiv her datapad? I think it’s still on the table,” Tech said, his voice still frustratingly calm considering how clearly desperate his body was.

You glanced up at him in a bit of despair, wondering if he was really going to still not move. Though it didn’t surprise you that Tech’s patience and endurance were so high, still. This was on the verge of being cruel. Your body clearly had been frustrated this whole time you’d been asleep, denied movement and friction.

Wrecker handed you the datapad, and you took it with a weak smile. “Thank you,” you murmured.

Tech’s hand squeezed a handful of your thigh. Stay still for me, cyar’ika. And because it was Tech, somehow the order was still coated with that enamored desperation that made you want to obey, just to give him whatever he wanted.

Leaning forward again, you rested your chin against Tech’s shoulder and propped your arms over his shoulders, opening up the datapad. You also realized that Tech had taken off your bra, though you wondered where he’d put it. Not that you cared, particularly. He leaned forward a little as well, reaching for a tool, and pressed your breasts against his chest.

You whined across the Bond, pouting at how mean he was.

He just chuckled, the loving affection pouring across the Bond a satisfactory compensation.

Wrecker sat across from you, beginning to chatter about how he’d been training. You listened, humming and nodding as you pulled up the schematics that Tech had uploaded to your datapad for Wrecker’s combat gloves. You’d been studying and modifying them so that hopefully Wrecker would be able to have them by the next mission.

Just then, Crosshair strolled in. “Hunter says there’s a bit of turbulence ahead,” he drawled, just as the ship jolted.

You let out a choked gasp as it made you rise a little and slam back down on Tech’s cock. Eyes widening, you tried to keep your composure as you gripped onto your datapad. Tech’s grunt had been lost, but the way he throbbedinside you was a sweet sort of revenge.

“Whoa.” Wrecker grabbed onto his seat. “What is it?”

“Asteroid belt,” Cross said, grabbing onto the nearest steady surface. “We have to manually fly through some of it.”

Your mind was already short circuiting. Tech had somehow gotten bigger inside of you, and you were almost on the verge of tears thanks to the way he was pressing into all your sensitive spots. At this point, you were just desperately trying to hold still while your body clamped down on his cock and inched so much closer to the edge. Tech’s hand on your lower back still somehow kept you grounded, reminding you not to move. You didn’t want to disobey. You wanted to make Tech happy.

“Hey Shiv, what’re you working on?” Wrecker asked, turning to you. The ship still dipped and swerved once in a while.

You fumbled with your datapad, connecting it to the holoscreen and transferring the data. “Your- your gloves,” you managed, trying to keep yourself at least coherent. But it was so hard when Tech’s warmth was engulfing you, his hand sweeping down your back, across your thigh, pressing your chest into his.

“I’m trying to modify them before our next mission,” you continued, highlighting the list of mods you’d created off to the side of the schematic. “These are the ones that have already been done, and these are the ones that I’d like to try to do-“

The ship jolted, taking a sharp turn up before coming straight back down and banking. This time, you barely managed to keep yourself from letting out a filthy, desperate moan. Tech had slid his hand down as though to brace you, but his thumb slid under the hem of the shirt and instead slicked up your clit.

You’re doing very well, Shiv, Tech’s voice puddled in your mind. You already came twice while you were asleep. You were so good for Hunter, do you think you could be good for me just a little longer?

So you bit back your sob and instead sank your teeth into your lip so hard you swore you’d leave a mark. You weren’t surprised that Tech knew about you and Hunter’s earlier session: Hunter always projected unconsciously once he was on sensory overload.

“That looks super cool, Shiv! I can’t wait to test it out.” Wrecker was grinning.

“Ah— sorry, Shiv. I need to grab this for a moment,” Tech said, just before moving forward and pressing his hand against your lower back. He grabbed something, then leaned back again and trailed his hand up your back.

Crosshair met your gaze across the room, his lips tilting up in a knowing smirk. His eyes swept over you, a hint of appreciation buried in his dark eyes. He said nothing, but you knew that he’d figured out exactly what was happening. You were past the point of embarrassment. Not only because your body was desperate, but also because the boys all quite clearly appreciated the projections over the Bonds and the sight of you being made a mess over and over.

The final jolt back into hyperspace proved to be too much for you. The way it pressed you wholly into Tech’s front and caused your clit to grind against his hip. The way your body clenched even wrenched a grunt from him.

The datapad fell from your weak fingers, clattering to the floor. Your head dropped down, your breaths quick and shallow as your entire face flushed, eyes fluttering closed. Lips parted, you peeled open drugged and teary eyes.

“Shiv? You okay?” Wrecker asked, looking at you in some surprise.

“Cruel, Tech,” Hunter’s amused voice came from the doorway. He jerked his head. “I’m going to go get some more shut-eye. Take care of her.” He disappeared down the hall.

“Huh?” Wrecker looked thoroughly confused.

Crosshair rolled his eyes. “Wrecker, she’s been sitting there for over a chron.”

Tech turned the chair to give Wrecker the full view. His hand slid up your thigh, bringing the edge of the shirt up as his hand traveled further up your hip and waist. “She’s been cockwarming me,” Tech said almost casually. “I wanted to see how sensitive she could get. A... pleasant experiment, if you will.”

You were shivering at that point, your mouth watering as tears slipped down your cheeks. The overstimulation was a pleasure you simultaneously wished would end and yet never stop. Your entire body felt like you were trying to completely melt into Tech, legs trembling.

Wrecker laughed, eyes lighting up. “Whoa Tech, I guess you really must have wanted it. A whole chron?” He shook his head, but his eyes trailed over you. “I mean, Shiv does look really pretty like that, though,” he admitted.

Crosshair approached, bending to tilt your chin up to his face with his finger. “Well, it looks like our little kitten is rather happy about your experiment. But also getting... desperate.” A smirk curled the corner of his lips as he stared at you through half-lidded eyes. “How... appealing.” He brushed a tear off of your chin, then straightened and walked back toward the door. “Take care of her, Tech. I’ll be back to talk to her once she’s... available.”

“Good luck, Shiv. I’m gonna go get a snack,” Wrecker said cheerfully, following Cross out the door with a wave.

“It seems as though we all liked the results of this experiment,” Tech remarked, sounding satisfied.

Your fingers curled in his shirt, nails scraping across his back. Lips parting, you breathed his name in a soft, half-drunk voice that dripped with pleasure. You wanted to cum, yes, but more than that, you wanted the satisfaction of hearing Tech praise you for not moving, for being good. Just his hand on your back and the steady affection that poured over the Bond was enough to make you seek more, whatever the means.

Tech shivered under you at the sound of his name spilling from your lips, and his fingers tightened on your waist. “You’ve done so well, cyar’ika,” he murmured, kissing your ear. “Thank you for being patient. Can I make it up to you, now?”

Your mouth watered at the idea, and you pulled back a little to be able to look up at his face. You knew you were a wreck, lips trembling and tear streaks down your face, but you wanted it. Wanted to ask.

“Can I-“ You swallowed thickly, feeling your face flush. “Can you...” You licked your lips. “In my mouth?”

Surprise flickered in his eyes for a moment, then he reached forward and cupped your face in his hands. His thumbs brushed away the tear-tracks, and his eyes softened. “If that’s what you want, of course. But I’d like to make you feel good, first.”

Your mind fuzzed with confusion. Make you feel good? But that’s literally all you’d been feeling the whole time, wasn’t it? He was the one that hadn’t cum yet.

All remaining coherent thought flew out of your head the moment Tech’s fingers found your clit. He leaned forward, drawing you into a tender kiss that sharply contrasted the way he dragged his fingers against you. His hips snapped up into you once, and you broke.

You wailed.

The pent-up release that had been building as he edged you over and over had you seeing stars, fireworks, whole galaxies. It burst inside you with a heat that washed over you and stole your breath, searing into your bones and wrenching a shattered sob from your mouth. You hardly registered that Tech’s name was spilling from your lips in a litany of prayer, too wrecked to even remember your own name.

You slowly wound down from the devastating high, trembling, tears rolling down your cheeks. Your body sparked and shuddered, humming in the aftermath in a way that left a glowing ember of satisfied warmth deep inside you. Coming undone had never so intensely walked the line of pleasure just this side of pain.

Tech’s arms were wrapping around your waist, one hand coming up to cup your face as he pulled you to lean against him. You started to register his steady stream of praise as he kissed your cheek and trailed his lips down your neck and shoulder.

“You did so well, cyar’ika. You deserve to feel good. So pretty, cumming for me.”

Your eyelashes fluttered as you slowly recovered, your body all but boneless against his chest. Snuggling into him, you tucked your face into his neck and sighed softly. You just... wanted a moment. To just press against Tech and feel his presence, his hands gently skimming over you, soothing you.

“Are you okay?” Tech checked, his voice low and inquisitive.

You hummed and nodded against his shoulder, basking in the glow of the high. “Thank you, Tech,” you murmured shyly.

He coaxed your head back so he could press a soft kiss to your lips. “For what? You’re the one who had to put up with my experiment.” The words were half-teasing, but his thumb stroked over your cheek with a tenderness that showed his mild concern.

You shook your head, reaching up to delicately brush your fingers across his face, peering up from under your lashes. “You take really good care of me, even though you’re feeling it a lot too...”

He had to be almost on the verge of pain. The way he was still buried inside you at the moment gave you an acute knowledge of how much his cock was throbbing, straining inside you.

His breath came out a bit shaky. “You come first, cyar’ika.”

Reaching up, you pulled him into a grateful kiss. Before the 501st, and even then rarely, no one had ever put you first in anything. The way the Bad Batch had taken care of you even in the middle of war had been a first in so many ways. And even now, Tech had put your wellbeing and comfort first, before his own. You wanted to return the favor.

Tech leaned into the kiss, clearly growing desperate for relief. Still, the kiss was tender for all its hunger, and his hands smoothed over your waist gently.

Pulling back, you slid out of his lap and all but puddled to the floor, your knees completely weak after the force of your orgasm. Still, that’s all you needed. Scooting forward a little, you reached out and brushed your fingers against the swollen, almost purpled head of his weeping cock. He was straining, and he let out a hiss as your fingers dragged across him. A thought struck you, and you tilted your head.

“What do you want, Tech?” you asked, your fingers smearing with your own slick coating his cock. You looked up at him, wanting to please him in the way he wanted.

He lurched forward a little, then looked down at you and panted. “I— wh-what... I...”

You paused in your stroking, your thumb rubbing on the underside. “I want you to feel good, too.”

Before he could quite help himself or stop it, a thought rocketed across the Bond. Color burst in his neck, creeping up to the tips of his ears. Despite yourself, you had to stifle a giggle and instead smile a little, wholly unsurprised even if his reaction did amuse you.

Shuffling forward, you pulled your shirt up and over your head. You had to think about it for a moment, but you decided to just give it your best shot regardless of the potential awkwardness. For Tech... you’d try your best. You pushed yourself closer to his lap, letting his straining cock fall between your breasts. Reaching up, you pushed your chest together and felt the slick slide against your skin.

Tech let out a low, tortured groan that made your already-battered body pulse with appreciation. He shuddered, eyes squeezing shut as pure pleasure flashed across his face. His eyes peeled open in time to see you kitten lick the tip of his cock just peeking from between your breasts.

Readjusting yourself, you found a position that let you move a little bit while still having access for your mouth. Sliding lower, you took the whole head into your mouth. It had swollen to the point that it was almost a struggle to get it in your mouth. The moment the heat of your mouth hit his cock, he let out a strangled moan and lurched, shuddering.

“I’m not— not going to last, Shiv,” he gasped, his whole body starting to tremble.

You lifted your mouth. “S’okay, Tech,” you said shyly. “You can use me.”

You knew that he was close, but you really had underestimated the effect the visual was having on him. You’d just stretched your mouth open around him again when he let out a half-choked cry. It took you by surprise, not expecting it that quickly.

Taken off guard, the first burst into your mouth made you squeak. Every spurt of his cum kept gathering in your mouth faster than you could swallow, and soon your mouth was completely full. It started to trickle out of the corners of your mouth, while you braced yourself for balance by splaying your palm against Tech’s stomach. His hand reached down and tangled in your hair, twitching weakly as he groaned.

He was gasping for breath by the time he rode out his high. His fingers loosened, and your mouth popped off of his cock as you fell back onto the floor. Mouth still full, you whined in protest as it started to drip out of your mouth. Some splashed onto your chest, and you lifted your fingers to your lips as you swallowed. You still hadn’t swallowed all of it by the time you opened your mouth for breath, so more of it ended up on your chest.

You pouted a little, wishing you hadn’t wasted so much. Tech’s cum, for some reason, was just enough of that tangy-sweet flavor with a hint of salt to make you not hate it. Besides, now you’d have to clean yourself off more than you’d normally have to otherwise. Looking down, you smeared a bit over your chest with your slick fingers, sticking them in your mouth.

Tech had slumped over in his chair, getting his breath back.

You crawled up closer to him again, getting his attention. “Are you okay, Tech?” you asked, a little concerned.

Tech looked at you, and his eyes riveted on your mouth, trailing down to your chest. Swallowing thickly, he nodded. “Maker, yes,” he murmured, dragging a hand through his hair.

You smiled up at him. “I’m glad.” Looking back down at yourself, you hummed. “I should go clean up again...”

“Sorry,” Tech blurted.

You looked up, surprised. “F-for what?”

“I— I made a mess...” He glanced down at you. “Didn’t get to warn you.”

You giggled. “It’s okay, Tech. I don’t mind.” You gave him a smile, standing slowly to make sure your knees would get you to the fresher. Scooping up the T-shirt, you headed for the door. “I’ll be back.”

You cleaned up, pulling the T-shirt back over yourself before heading back to the common area. Finding your poor datapad, you picked it up from where you’d dropped it. Tech came up to you, wrapping an arm around your waist and pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“Thank you, Shiv. I’m going to go get cleaned up.”

You nodded back, giving him a smile. Turning back to your datapad, you decided to resume a bit of work you’d been doing. Taking a break from Wrecker’s gloves, you pulled up a series of footage you’d meant to assess from a recent mission. Hooking up the datapad to the holoscreen, you started to scrutinize the footage.

You’d wanted to see if you could better understand Crosshair’s personal preferences as far as vantage point and strengths went in order to better accommodate for him. Though you did know a few of his tells as a sniper, you still felt a little in the dark when it came to any patterns he had. You wanted to try to see if you could learn anything more, also wanting to see how he handled you as a weapon from an outsider’s perspective. Sometimes, it helped you adjust better.

As usual, you lost yourself in the familiar work and completely lost track of your surroundings. Hands wrapped around your waist, settling on your hips and bringing you out of your focused haze.

“Well, it looks like I found our little kitten doing something interesting,” a voice hummed into your ear, low and smooth.

Color leaped into your face as you gasped, pulled back into his chest. “O-oh, Crosshair...”

One hand anchoring your hip to him, his other hand started to trail up your front. “And what exactly were you doing, Shiv?” he drawled, lazy but not displeased.

You swallowed. “I— I was trying to analyze footage a little more,” you answered, voice pitching a little higher. “I just— I feel like I don’t know your preferences enough, and- and I wanted to see if I could do— do better for you—“

Crosshair’s fingers came up to your neck, tracing the side of your throat down to your shoulder. “Is that right? Don’t you think we should be the ones analyzing you a little more?”

The comment had something.... else to it. An edge that made you pause, tilting your head to look up into his face. Was he upset about something?

A soft sigh blew over your skin, the only way you even knew he’d done it at all. “We stood by and watched as you fought the Guardian and weren’t able to do anything. Didn’t even know you could fight like that. What’s the point in having you be our weapon if we don’t even know anything about you?”

You closed your eyes. “It’s not your fault if I didn’t tell you,” you pointed out quietly. “And I... I should have, I know. That’s on me, not you.”

Cross grunted. “You blame yourself too much,” he grumbled.

You gasped as his teeth sank into the crook of your neck, not hard enough to bruise but definitely enough for you to feel it. Your back arched automatically, though his fingers tightened around your throat and held your head back and neck accessible.

Your eyes squeezed shut as your fingers grappled against his trousers for some sort of stability. Everything seemed to be spinning, Crosshair’s mouth hot against your skin. His hand on your hip pulled you into him, and he ground against your ass in a way that left you squirming on the verge of embarrassment. He chuckled.

“Is my little kitten going to be good for me?” A hint of stubble rasped against your neck, leaving you shuddering.

“Yes,” you whimpered, already trembling. Cross may not have been physically as large or intimidating as Wrecker, but the lithe strength in his arms and the deft confidence of his thin, calloused fingers did something to you that left you utterly weak.

“That’s a good girl,” he murmured, voice slick. His hand slid under the oversized T-shirt, trailing up your hip. His fingers hooked on your underwear, playing with the fabric. His mouth moved lazily over the back of your neck as he tilted your head forward a little for access.

“Next time we make a stop, I think we’re going to have go get you some... things, hmm?” he remarked casually, just as his hand twisted.

The underwear snapped, slipping off of your hips and leaving you feeling oddly... vulnerable. You trusted Crosshair with your life, of course. But somehow... you felt so much more self-conscious around him than the others. Maybe it was the way you couldn’t read him as easily as the others? Or just the way he tended to not be as expressive as the others toward you? What was it that made you cherish his affection in such a different way compared to the others?

Crosshair nudged you forward, letting your hands land against the holotable for support. His other hand let go of your hip, only to slide your shirt up over your back before reaching back to unzip his trousers.

“You seemed to enjoy Tech’s experiments,” he noted, fingers sliding around your hip. His fingers spread you open, revealing how slick you were already. “And do you think you can take me too?”

You nodded faintly, then gasped as his cock slid against you. “I don’t think I heard you, kitten,” he drawled.

“Y-yes, I-I can,” you stammered, already shivering. Your body felt hypersensitive, both from your previous session with Tech as well as the way Cross somehow knew exactly how to touch you in every sensitive spot. Had he really observed you that much-?

He slid two fingers into your mouth, letting you suck on them as he kept a vise-like grip on your jaw. The movement was simple, but the way it made you feel so completely controlled, trapped between him and the table, made you go pliant. He handled your body as confidently as he did your Rifle form, tracing over you with a sort of muted reverence that you began to recognize as your memory drew parallels. The confidence was reassuring, as though he were subconsciously saying that you could trust him, that he knew how to handle you expertly, that you could leave it in his capable hands.

You whimpered around his fingers as your mind fully leaned into the reassurance, leaving you open and pliant to him.

“That’s right, Shiv.” Crosshair’s voice slid around you, through you. “Bend over.”

You obeyed almost without thinking, sliding down onto your elbows and then completely collapsing against the table. The cool metal pressed against your cheek, and your eyes fluttered closed as your breath shallowed. Your lips parted in a soft moan as you felt Cross start to slide into you.

For a moment, he only kept the tip in you, letting you flutter around him and adjust. Then he reached down and pulled both of your legs up, pushing them up on the table so you looked like you were in a sitting position, your legs both on one side and pulled against his hip. His fingers wrapped around your ankle like a vise, just as he thrust up into you.

Your fingers curled around the edge of the table as you choked.

It was the first time Cross had actually penetrated you, and it was already about to drive you over the edge. His cock was long, and while not as thick as Tech, it definitely stretched you in different ways. He pressed up inside you in depths you didn’t know were possible. You swore you could taste him in your throat, he was so far inside you.

Bending over you, Cross started to mercilessly fuck up into you, barely giving you a moment to breathe. The way he had your legs together and bent up put a pressure on your clit that spiked every time he bottomed out; and at the pace he’d set, you could feel yourself careening closer to the edge. He grunted, his iron grasp on your hips definitely about to leave bruises littered over your skin.

His hand tangled in your hair, pulling so he could lower his mouth back onto your throat. Every other thrust was punctuated with a sloppy kiss to your neck, a contrast that only made you moan louder. Your body rocked with the brutal pace, and you could swear that Cross was molding you around his cock.

Somewhere in the jumble of your mind, his name managed to slur off of your tongue. You weren’t sure how or why, but your mind was starting to blur and fuzz, focusing solely on the way Crosshair’s body was hunched over yours, his hands controlling you so deftly, taking control over your body, your pleasure. Everything else faded into the background, until all you knew was him, and the way his fingers wrapped around your throat as he fucked you into the table.

You weren’t sure how long you drifted in the haze, but when you managed to focus, you found yourself gazing up into Crosshair’s dark eyes. His thin lips tilted in a smug smile as he noticed.

“Looks like someone’s back.” He raised an eyebrow. “Well then. How about you cum for me, hmm?” a hint of amused indulgence laced his tone. “You want it Shiv, don’t you? To cum all over me like the cock-dumb kitten you are?”

You whined, the pressure around your throat grounding you just enough to keep you present. The pleasure kept flowing through your body like a steady, unrelenting stream, smothering you. You did want it. Wanted to please him.

He leaned closer, not letting up his pace as his hips continued to snap up into you. “Such a good kitten,” he murmured, “with my fingers wrapped around your pretty little throat. Cum for me, Shiv. Show me how good I make you feel.”

It drove you off the cliff. Your orgasm seemed to burst from inside you, rippling up through your veins, your limbs, arching your body. It sent a wave of white heat washing through you, leaving you weak and completely lax in its wake. A sob spilled weakly from your lips as you opened tear-filled eyes to focus on him through the pleasure.

Crosshair let go of your throat, his jaw clenching as he stared down at your face. His hips started to stutter, his chest heaving with breath.

Swallowing thickly, you reached up and traced the tattoo that ringed his eye and trailed down his cheek. “Please, Cross,” you murmured dreamily. “Please, cum inside me.”

His shoulders locked as he snapped his hips into you one last time. A low groan hissed between his gritted teeth as he came, still buried deep inside you.

The liquid heat pooled inside you, and your eyelashes fluttered with contentment.

Crosshair's breath washed over your ear. "You're ours, Shiv," he murmured, voice husky with the high.

"Yours," you repeated obediently, your fingers tangling in the front of his shirt. Sleepiness plucked heavily at your eyes, the aftermath of three sessions tugging insistently at your consciousness.

"Mmm, fresher first, kitten," Cross chided. His arms slid around you, lifting you up as he slid out of you.

You whined in protest, leaning against his shoulder, even though you knew he was right. Everything was too comfortable, the sleepiness heavy and warm.

"I'll take you to Wrecker's bunk once you're done. Clean up." Cross stayed unmovable, his voice dry as he set you down on your feet in front of the fresher.

But you still clung to his shirt for another moment, looking up at his angled face and dark eyes. A wistfulness flitted through you as you wished that you could stay with him for a little while longer. But you didn't want to ask, didn't want to bother him.

He raised an eyebrow, his hand on your waist steadying your weak legs. "Unless you want to start dripping everywhere, Shiv," he glanced pointedly down at you, "though I wouldn't complain." He smirked.

You swallowed, then looked down. "O-okay," you mumbled, shuffling into the fresher. Even as you sluggishly cleaned yourself though, you had to swallow back a few tears. You weren't entirely sure why, but something in you so desperately craved to be near Cross, to just receive some form of quiet reassurance from him through just a touch or word that he... he cared.

Shaking your head and smearing away the tears, you sucked in a steadying breath and walked back out of the fresher. You'd slowly lost some article of clothing to each of them along the way, so now all you had was the oversized T-shirt. Wobbling back out, you found yourself a bit startled to see Cross still standing there by the doorway, a toothpick clenched between his teeth.

He jacked himself off of the wall and approached you. Bending a little, he picked you up effortlessly and began walking down the hallway of the ship. Ducking into a room, he walked over to the bed.

Wrecker looked up in surprise. "Oh, Cross, Shiv." He grinned. His head tilted as he observed you. "You alright, Shiv?"

You nodded faintly, not trusting your voice not to break. Cross set you down on the bed, while Wrecker shifted over to make room. Then Cross rolled his eyes.

"Move, Wrecker."

"Alright, alright, I'm moving," Wrecker whined, shuffling to the back of his bunk. Lying down next to you, he reached out and gently pulled your back to his chest, wrapping his large arm around your waist. His warmth pressed up behind you, easing some of the pain that curled in your chest.

Then, to your surprise, Crosshair slid into the bunk in front of you. Wordlessly, eyes half-lidded, he scooted closer and ran his hand down your side.

Hesitantly, you squirmed closer, tangling your fingers in the chest of his shirt again. You could feel the warmth of his body under your fingertips, and you bit your lip and glanced up at him tentatively.

Something flickered through his eyes as he gazed down at you, his hand gripping your thigh. "Do I make you uncomfortable?"

Your eyes widened, and you immediately shook your head adamantly. "No!" you blurted, your face crumpling despite yourself. "No-" your voice cracked.

Cross sighed, his thumb stroking over your bare skin. "You seem hesitant around me."

Tears welled in your eyes. "No— I-I'm just never sure if... if I'm bothering you, and-" You sniffled, the ache in your chest deepening. "I—I look up to you so much, Cross," you confessed. "Every time you let me Transfer with you and- and I can be near you or with you, I... it makes me feel so safe. I just-" your shoulders hitched, "I want to make you happy, but I feel like... like I never know if it's okay to get close to you. I don't want to bother you..."

Crosshair pulled you closer, tucking your leg up over his hip so you fit against him like a puzzle piece. "You don't bother me, Shiv," he said, voice low. "We've all been... worried about you."

You nodded, pushing your face into his chest. You decided to take the risk and reached out over the Bond, asking for attention. The Bond lit with acknowledgement, more subdued than the others' but still undeniably there. Crosshair's attention was quietly intense, making up for its more subtle nature.

Shyly, you pushed across your feelings. The way you felt safe around him, the way you looked up to his stern concentration of his craft, his diligence in working, his attention to keeping his teammates safe. The way whenever his lithe fingers handled you, whether weapon or body, it soothed and comforted you regardless of what was happening. The way you wanted his approval, his attention.

Cheeks flushing, you peeked up at him from where you'd buried your face into his chest. A hint of a smile crossed his thin lips, and his dark eyes softened as they observed you.

Reaching up, he brushed his thumb across your cheek. "Good girl, cod'ika," he murmured.

Relief burst through you as he accepted your feelings. Even though all you felt over the Bond was a soft pulse of acknowledgement and a hint of pleased affection, it was more than enough. Cross didn't need to say much to make his point, and you realized better than before that every word he spoke to you was deliberate, honest. None of his words even in the heat of pleasure were idle or empty. You clung to the knowledge, soothed with the reassurance that Cross did care, in his own unique way.

"Thank you," you whispered shyly, knowing that he didn't have to reassure you. But he cared enough about you to listen, to answer.

Wrecker grumbled behind you, scooting forward so he pressed more tightly against your back. "Share a little, Cross," he groaned, "Shiv is soft and warm and I wanna feel."

Cross rolled his eyes, the moment broken. "Selfish."

"Hey!" Wrecker protested, leaning his chin against the top of your head. "You're the selfish one here-"

You giggled, tugging at Wrecker's hand to drape over both you and Crosshair. "Let me take a nap, Wrecker, and then I'll let you cuddle more," you promised. Letting out a wide yawn, you snuggled into both of them. "Love you," you murmured sleepily.

"Love you too, Shiv!" Wrecker squeezed you.

"Kar'taylir darasuum, cod'ika," Crosshair murmured in your ear.

You fell asleep to warmth, content.

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weirdmageddon · 3 years

Text

my rheumatologist has done more for me towards getting a POTS diagnosis than my cardiologist thats kinda sad bro

i came in to the cardiologist the other day (finally after waiting MONTHS) hoping for a tilt table test to see how my heart rate and blood pressure react to orthostasis in a controlled setting. the doctor didnt actually do a thing to test me for it in-office, i was just told to schedule an echo (which is fine), holster (alright) and stress test (why). but i was also prescribed eastern medicine as a treatment....“superbrain yoga”? like i dont want to seem closeminded because she is an indian doctor and there are some things that western medicine hasn’t caught on to but i realy wish i was told why it is supposed to work. like i want to know physiologically how and why it supposedly works. get technical and mechanical with me bro i have le autism, thats my language if you wanna really convince me. if it’s about toning up the muscles in my legs to squeeze the blood into my core upon standing why dont i just do squats? why do i have to do all this really specific stuff like hold my tongue at the roof of my mouth and face east, crossing my arms (right arm must go over left) and maneuver my hands in a certain way to grab my earlobes while doing those squats? is that merely a concentration sort of thing to make your brain focus? if so, why not just let me know what the purpose to these specific movements are (and what does focusing my brain have to do with treating POTS symptoms anyway)?? i’m not a spiritual person so the spiritual aspects of it do nothing for me. but at least i wasn’t given intensive aerobic exercise because i cant do that lol. i was just prescribed core strength training with planks and crunches (fine with me) and “superbrain yoga” (the specifics still confuse me but i’m doing it anyway)

but i didnt even get a tilt table test while i was there, i asked about it and she said “we stopped doing tilt table tests a while ago” and i was like ????????? thats like the gold standard to test for POTS my guy. based on just my symptoms she said i had dysautonomia and i asked “what about POTS?” and she said “it could be” and i was like ? could be? bro you didnt even test for it?

the whole visit just felt really vague and dismissive to my issues (yet again). fucking even my rheumatologist said before this visit to the cardiologist that i “probably have POTS”

so when i left the cardiologist the other day i wrote this up because i was very upset, felt dismissed, and took matters into my own hands to show what kind of medical concepts i’m capable of comprehending and the kind of language i want doctors to talk to me about my conditions in. and today i read it to my rheumatologist during today’s appointment:

the cardiologist says i have dysautonomia, “caused by dysfunction of the small blood vessels”. in the clinic, the nurse measured my laying vs standing blood pressure (which increased rather than decreased) but they didn’t do my heart rate there for some reason. but on my own i’ve measured my heart rate to jump above 30 bpm within 10 minutes of standing, so with all the symptoms lining up exactly with what’s expected of POTS (heart rate increase greater than 30 bpm within 10 minutes of standing, no drop in blood pressure, lightheadedness, brain fog, palpitations, prolonged fatigue, heat intolerance, excessive sweating etc), i’m convinced that the type of dysautonomia i specifically have is POTS, not just the umbrella term “dysautonomia”, and the specific brand of POTS i have is the neuropathic POTS subtype which is thought to be caused by sympathetic denervation (partial autonomic neuropathy) in the lower extremities. this causes the blood vessels in my legs not to constrict as they should when standing, which in turn causes blood to pool in the legs and not return to the heart, causing the heart to have to source its blood supply from elsewhere in the meantime to compensate (with an overall lower venous return), driving up the heart rate and causing lightheadedness. my blood tests also showed i am also very slightly anemic by 0.1 point below the normal range (11.6 g/dL) the resulting denervation hypersensitivity from the sympathetic denervation what is thought to cause erythromelalgia—which i express all the hallmark symptoms of as well in my feet (redness, increased skin temperature, burning sensation (feels like walking on a hot pool deck), cold to touch and bluish purple when not actively flaring, flaring occurs at night, symptoms worsen with exposure to heat and exercise (including walking on feet while flaring) and are relieved with cooling and elevation). i have no response to the cold unlike with what is seen in raynauds. i actually consider cold exposure my savior; the heat is my worst enemy, it makes me feel faint and lightheaded dysautonomia-wise and it makes my feet flare up rheumatologically.

“Several previous investigations have provided clues that patients with the postural tachycardia syndrome have peripheral autonomic dysfunction. Streeten et al. found that patients with orthostatic tachycardia had excessive venous pooling in the legs while standing and suggested that denervation of the legs was a mechanism of the syndrome. This hypothesis was supported by the finding of hypersensitivity to infusion of norepinephrine into the veins of the foot, despite high plasma catecholamine concentrations. [...] These stimuli increased norepinephrine spillover in the arms of both the patients with the postural tachycardia syndrome and the normal subjects, with similar increases in the two groups, but failed to increase norepinephrine spillover in the legs of the patients. [...] The reduced clearance of norepinephrine in the legs, without a similar reduction in the arms, may result from impairment of norepinephrine-reuptake mechanisms due to isolated damage to nerve terminals in the legs. [...] CONCLUSIONS: The neuropathic postural tachycardia syndrome results from partial sympathetic denervation, especially in the legs.” — (https://www.nejm.org/doi/full/10.1056/NEJM200010053431404)

“The laser Doppler flowmetry signal after sympathetic stimulation of reflexes mediated through the central nervous system, was significantly diminished in patients with erythromelalgia as compared with healthy controls. [...] Vasoconstrictor responses involving central sympathetic reflexes were attenuated in erythromelalgia. Local neurogenic vasoconstrictor regulation, vasodilator response to local heating and hyperemic response to ischemia were maintained. [...] The finding of reduced skin perfusion before provocation is in accordance with the clinical observations that many erythromelalgia patients exhibit cold acral skin between attacks. [...] These results indicate that postganglionic sympathetic dysfunction and denervation hypersensitivity may play a pathogenetic role in primary erythromelalgia.” — (https://linkinghub.elsevier.com/retrieve/pii/S0022-202X(15)41629-X)

“Denervation hypersensitivity is a phenomenon peculiar to smooth muscle innervated by the general visceral efferent system. Following denervation there is increased sensitivity of the muscle to neurotransmitters. This is evident in smooth muscle innervated by sympathetic neurons when the postganglionic axon is affected. Such denervated muscle shows hypersensitivity to the application of epinephrine or to circulating epinephrine released during excitement.” — (https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/B9780721605616500198)

although my rheumatologist is in no position to give me a POTS diagnosis she very much agreed with the connections i made and said she thinks i am right on the mark with my conditions. she told me im a real academic patient and even that i’d be well suited for going into medicine lol. not only is it refreshing to have a doctor that doesn’t disregard their patient’s knowledge, but it’s good to see what i’ve learned about nerves from my biopsych classes (and in my own time for funsies) paying off in ways concerning my health. my mom who is a nurse also agrees that neuropathic POTS and erythromelalgia are what i have.

anyway the POTS symptoms have been a massive thing for me since puberty and the erythromelalgia developed a year or so after my POTS symptoms started. but i’ve always had freezing cold clammy hands and feet since i was a young child, they just hadn’t started changing colors and flaring until after i hit puberty. i’m not sure what destroyed the sympathetic nerve fibers in my legs (as most POTS happens in teenagers due to some viral illness but i’ve never had that?), i was also just tested for a bunch of autoimmune factors and disorders and my results came back negative. maybe it’s just a genetic factor, who knows, probably something caused by a hormone’s cascading effect gone awry at some point. it seems a lot of autistic afab people have POTS or some other type of dysautonomia for some reason and i’m curious as to why.

anyway i’m really stuck in a liminal space because i have no official diagnosis beyond “dysautonomia” but i’ve been sure of what it is for like over a year and it keeps getting clearer and clearer that i was right all along

#pots #dysautonomia #erythromelalgia #chronic illness

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silkylious · 4 years

Text

Limbo (Bakugo Katsuki x Fem!Reader)

Pairing: bakugo katsuki x female reader warnings: heavy angst, eventual tiny bit of fluff at the end

omf this request is so nice i feel so bad that my writing is literally garbage in this, but thank you sm for requesting this!! <3 and im so sorry if i didn’t do your request justice (i legit hate my writing here :’))

To say the state of your relationship was unbearable would be the euphemism of the century.

Your thoughts often ran amuck, always hopelessly crawling back to that one despaired curiosity; wondering if he shared the same sentiment about your wishy-washy “friends” status as you did. He probably didn’t. That’s the seemingly unshakable brick wall that would inevitably dead-end your lovesick daydreams, each and every time. Though when his roughed-up hands linger on your skin a millisecond too long, when his steeled stare melts, hard rubies morphing into blazing lava pits, threatening to mar your very heart and soul with their scorching intensity –you’re not exactly certain you’d mind that– that’s when a flicker of something ignites within you. Hope, longing, doubt. Whatever it is, it terrifies you. Because you’re agonizingly aware of what that entails. He’s got you hook, line and sinker, but torturously he refuses to do anything with that. Almost like pulling someone in for a hug then abruptly and without explanation stopping midway, he keeps you at arm’s length. Not too far, not too close. And how that cycle destroyed you.

Katsuki was the type to jump into action and ask questions later. Except a lot of the times when these questions pertain to his own emotions, he didn’t even try to answer them, opting to shove them to the corners of his psyche, collecting dust, steadily accumulating until they become too much to ignore and he (sometimes quite literally) explodes. It’s a vicious loop that he could never break away from, he’d even come to find a sordid comfort in it. His coping mechanism was by no means healthy, far from it, but he’d grown familiar to the toxicity.

Katsuki couldn’t make heads nor tails of his feelings for you. Whenever he impulsively threw himself into the lion’s den that was your affection, caught in the moment, in the glimmer of genuine adoration in your eyes, he never came back the same. A piece of his heart would irreversibly split off and reside in the palm of your hand, he was scared that nothing would be left of it, that he wouldn’t be able to regain his bearings until it was too late. You so effortlessly juggled with his feelings, all with a single smile, it scared him that you had so much power over the fluttery sensation in his chest and yet, in the moment, it felt good. It felt so good to indulge in whatever fucky feeling was messing with his head, to let you hold him in the depths of obscurity with all prying eyes shut and what little words exchanged hushed. It felt so alleviating to feel skin on his own (for once not in battle), gentle, comforting but not coddling. It was unspoken between you that you were both more than friends. You knew it, he knew it. Neither of you ever mentioned it. What neither of you knew, however, was how far the other’s feelings ran.

But as high as your silent love made him feel, he crashed back down into the concrete when he was left to his own devices. Without your intoxicating scent, distracting touches fogging his rationality, Katsuki had all the time in the world to overthink. And overthink he did. His pride picked apart the delicate flowering in his heart, ripping it petal by petal until nothing was left but a garden of beautifully withered leaves, a condemnation to what he considered a weakness.

Katsuki was a taker by every sense of the word. Basking in your wispy adoration, only to brush you aside in favor of focusing on academics once he’d had his fill of your love. It was sickening.

Maybe it was the fact that you hadn’t outright confessed to him, maybe that’s what soothed the overbearing guilt that crawled up his throat whenever he saw that dejected face of yours, the one you made because of him. If your feelings for him ran deep, surely you would have said something by now, at least that’s what he thought. Or more precisely, that’s the excuse his mind conjured up in hopes of easing his conscious, trying to convince himself that self that yes, he was hurting you, but at least he wasn’t hurting you that bad. He was infinitely aware that this doesn’t put him in any sort of moral high ground, nor does it justify his actions, but, again, it was a last-ditch effort to relieve his anguish if just by a little bit, even if he knew that excuse was bullshit.

Surely he knew, there’s no way in hell someone as hawk-eyed as him didn’t notice the tyranny he held over the porcelain pitter-pattering of your heart, didn’t notice the fleeting, love-filled glances you sent his way. This was getting ridiculous, you were starting to believe he was taking some twisted sense of pleasure from your heartache, but he wouldn’t do that, right? He didn’t derive some sick kick out of having you indefinitely under his thumb, at his beck and call… right? A few months ago, you would have answered those uncertainties with a resounding “No!” defending his cruel behavior till the bitter end. But now…

Now you weren’t so sure.

And yet you still found yourself in his dorm, on his bed. It was supposed to be another study gathering, but one thing was glaringly missing. Y’know… the gathering. Kirishima was out training and he hadn’t bothered to invite the rest of his brain-dead, self-proclaimed squad. And that’s how you found yourself alone. With your best friend and secret crush. Just dandy.

Your hands were restless. Pulling at the seams of his blanket, cracking your own fingers, picking up your pencil for a brief moment of concentration, answering one or two questions only to drop it back on the mattress again and fidget some more. Katsuki wasn’t fucking blind, and your unease was ticking him off. Though he surprisingly hadn’t said a thing about it just yet, he was clearly nearing his wit’s end. His silence didn’t prevail for much longer, the meek sigh and not so subtle glance you chanced his way being his tipping point.

“What.” It came out as a statement, a demand rather than a question. What was he demanding? He hadn’t thought of that yet, his temperamental limbs already taking the wheel and pressing on the gas without a destination in mind, just being short fused for the sake of it. Was it even his place to be making demands in this situation? Katsuki knew the answer to this one like the back of his hand, a solid no.

“What…?” You really had no idea what Bakugo was expecting with a question like that. He still had the audacity to roll his eyes.

“The hell’s got you so jumpy?”

“It’s nothing…” It was a lot more than nothing, that’s for sure.

“Don’t lie to me, (name). What the fuck is up with you?” Ah, there it is again. That look. His words were as cut-throat as ever, and his mouth was still pulled into that seemingly permanent scowl. But his eyes conveyed something that was whole worlds asunder from his harsh tone. Golden brows furrowed as they usually were, though unusually upturned just the slightest bit. You despised that look. It ensured that you’ll forever be caught in his grasp, forever there for him when he never spared you the time of day.

Your lungs constricted by a force of gorgeously wretched agony. Katsuki wasn’t fair when he bared his soul to you like this, it filled you with such fervent euphoria that torrefied its way through your being, singeing your veins with luminous infatuation. And it hurt. Because you knew he’d cage himself right up as soon as the moment of vulnerability perished.

A crystalline sheen permeated your vision. This wasn’t going to end well.

“I said it’s nothing,” Your voice raised. You hadn’t meant for the words to be as frosty as they came out, but it seemed like your subconscious was utterly done with the tedium of heartbreak he keeps putting you through.

“What is fucking wrong with you? I was literally just asking why you were being so goddamn obnoxious today and then you go and make a big fuckin’ deal out of nothing!”

“Well, maybe I’m just fucking tired of giving you everything I have and getting nothing in return, Katsuki!”

Your chest rose and fell with each scalding breath that entered your lungs. The blood through your veins was pumping. Never had you been confrontational, and your sudden outburst wasn’t exactly welcome to your system. You wanted to vomit. This was not how you wanted things to turn out, you absolutely needed to leave, distance yourself from the emotional strain he was inflicting on you.

Without taking notice of the panicked glint in the cherry red of his irises, you bolted out of the suddenly claustrophobic room, leaving Katsuki to stare at his agape door before flickering his unfocused attention to your supplies still laying on his bed.

Katsuki erupted time and time again, with you being as patient as a receiving end could ever be. It’s specifically because of your godly patience that he never considered what he would do once you erupted.

With your back sliding down your dorm room door, and little friction stopping your descent, you wondered and maybe even wished he’d call after you, come banging on your door with bristling apologies on the tip of his tongue. However, the jarring reality was very clear to you. You’d decided on that day, with your head buried in your tear-stained pillow, that these were the last tears you’d ever shed on him, that you were going to put him through the same wringing hell he’d put you through.

You were going to ignore Bakugo Katsuki’s existence just like he’d periodically ignored yours.

The following week had been bleak at best and excruciatingly bitter at its worst for the both of you. It was so strange having to adjust to the absence of the other, even if your company more often than not had been a quiet one, it was company nevertheless. The most grueling part though, was your shared friend group. They’d noticed that something was obviously awry, but since neither of you said a thing about it, they decided it would be best if they didn’t either. The awkward dead silences during lunch were still purgatory to behold. But after a few more slow paced days, the sun seemed to shine bright again. For you, that is.

You didn’t realize how much of your schedule revolved around Bakugo until he was completely out of it. How much time you spent with him, dreading him, thinking about him… him, him, him. He’d consumed your thoughts from the first sparks of dawn till the hallows of dusk. You had so much free time now that he was out of the picture, it was crazy. The more time you spent on yourself, on your hobbies, getting to know other classmates outside of your immediate friend circle, the duller the ache in your chest. Until it was but a static buzz. Yet you couldn’t deny that, with time, your fury had mellowed out, leaving behind a cold loneliness you couldn’t elude whenever your aimless stare landed on him, almost like it was drawn to him by muscle memory.

He was the exact opposite.

You’d think the throbbing within him whenever you finally gazed his way then instantaneously looked in the opposite direction would knock come modicum of sense into his stubborn head. But nope. And seeing you thrive without him only cemented what he already knew. He really was no good for you. So much so that it barely took anytime for you to readjust to the lack of him in your life, and not only did you adjust, you were the best he’s ever seen you both mentally and academically. In the first week of you ditching him completely, his bruised ego kept him for reaching out to you, but now, seeing that elated grin on your face –the one that had been gradually dwindling over the past few months– he didn’t want to take your newfound happiness away, he’d figured he’d done you more than enough harm already.

Heart heavy with reluctance, Katsuki made the decision to give up on your relationship. Deciding to wordlessly cheer you on from the sidelines and watch you bloom, flourishing into the person he robbed you of being for a chunk of your life, though whenever your spring hit, it would be without him. Until some day in the future where his pride wasn’t as suffocating, where he could genuinely, wholeheartedly repent his grievances and only hope for your forgiveness.

Kirishima never took Bakugo for a quitter, hell would freeze over before he even thought such a thing. So this was certainly a shock. What was even more shocking ��– and overwhelmingly concerning– was the fact that Katsuki had willingly, on his own accord confided in him, and he’d, in his own roundabout way, taken accountability for being a gigantic douche to you. As much as the redhead respected his friend’s decision to stay clear of you, he couldn’t help but wish you’d just talk to one another for once. Kirishima really was a saint, having to listen to two idiots ramble about how much they miss the other.

“Listen, man. I know you feel bad and all that, but maybe you should just talk to her? I’m sure she’d like some closure on this just as you do, even if that doesn’t mean things will go back to the way they were.” Eijirou tried to reason, praying to whatever higher being out there that Katsuki would just get the fuck over himself and communicate with you.

“Fuck no. That’s not fucking happening, shitty hair,” Kirishima rolled his eyes at the oh so affectionate nickname, thoroughly done with his best friend’s melodrama. Welp, I guess there’s only one thing left to try. He heaved internally, mentally and physically preparing himself for Bakugo’s tantrum.

“Well, you know that if you won’t talk to her, others will, right? I heard some guys saying they’re gonna ask her ou–”

“Shut the fuck up! I don’t give a rat’s ass who asks her out!” He definitely did. Eijirou hid his smile. Checkmate.

“Whatever you say, dude.”

Later that day, three distinctly powerful knocks woke you up. Needless to say, you didn’t think that night would end up with you and Katsuki staring each other down, seated on your bed at one in the morning. Words got stuck in his throat, so he just… noiselessly watched your face, as if trying to telepathically ram his constipated emotions into you, in hopes that you’d make sense of them. Obviously, that didn’t work.

“Did you come banging on my door at one in the morning just to stare at me, Bakugo? I mean I know I’m pretty but still–”

“Shuddup.” Not really the best thing to say to you after weeks of radio silence. You were about to make another salty remark, but he opened his mouth first.

“I fucked up,” The fact that he was acknowledging he was at fault was… something. But that wasn’t nearly enough to pay off the debt off turmoil he’d caused you.

“No shit.” You replied without missing a beat. The ice that tinged your words caught him off guard, but he really shouldn’t have been surprised. He sighed, knowing he’d have to strip himself of everything, including his pride (especially his pride) down to his very core, to have a go at a second chance.

And so, he did.

He poured his everything out for you to observe, without an ego film distorting his words. Syllables reeked of muted agony, he really had rid himself of anything and everything that wasn’t his deepest soul. He finally offered you himself just as you had done countless times before. Katsuki swore that his heart would –and always has been– explicitly yours, he’d roar that fact at the constellations above if you so wished him to. And while it would take a while to heal from coruscating blisters he’d inflicted, you were more than content mending and welting your heart with his.

#bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #bakugou imagine #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bnha bakugo katsuki #bakugo angst #this is so bad :'))#i kinda gave up at the end fuck #i literally hate this so much whats wrong with my writing #is it just me or does it suck idk #im going night night

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stevenbasic · 3 years

Text

So far AJ’s day, his first at this new job, had been predictably miserable. He figured that was sort of normal, kinda expected. He’d been his own boss, owner of his own little construction firm for years, so going back to being a manual labor grunt for someone else again was sure to feel like ten steps in the wrong direction. But working on a demo team for a bunch of girls? The women, the company that had put him out of business? That was turning out to be particularly soul-sucking and demeaning work. But, hey, a buck’s a buck and he needed as many of those as he could muster these days. His saving grace was, with a little effort keeping his head down, that he could remain faceless and anonymous and just do his work. The morning had been spent taking down some walls in the area of the building that was to be the new wing. He’d sat by himself for his meager lunch outside - his buddies, guys that used to work for him, were on another team entirely, at another site - and he had now this afternoon been asked to step into the doctor's office area to look at some venting. Privately, he leapt at the chance: maybe he’d be able to see Angie. Or, for that matter, catch a glimpse of - or even meet - that statuesque, brunette boss of hers, her friend Melissa...

He was in luck.

“Oh! H-hey, hun,” AJ said, acting surprised to bump into his girlfriend, Angie, as he turned the corner in the back hallway. He’d already checked out what he’d needed to see, looked at the thermostats, and had been sort of aimlessly drifting around, avoiding others, waiting for just this moment. He managed what he hoped was a casual smile. “Funny meeting you here haha,” he joked, wiping plaster dust from his forehead, “H-how’s the first day?”

At first, Angie looked surprised to see him, too - eyes widening. But she didn’t even give him a word of greeting before her eyes flashed, her smile grew into a grin, and she bit her lower lip. Looking behind herself, down the hall, checking if they’d be seen, she then suddenly grabbed him by the collar of his green, grime-covered t-shirt and pulled him aside. “Here, let’s go in here-“ she said, opening the door to a supply closet and yanking him into it. She shut the door behind them and flipped on a switch.

“Hey wow..!” AJ exclaimed, eyes immediately going wide in pleasant surprise, “Nice to see you too!”

The switch she had hit had turned on an overhead fluorescent, which was just flickering to life. “Shush,” she said, locking the door, “The last thing I need is someone to see us together.” She’d just gotten out of lunch, where all the office girls had assembled, crowded into the too-small breakroom for a welcome meeting. She’d had a few great little chats and was just really beginning to grasp what was going on here, what she was now part of. It was thrilling and her blood was still on fire from the excitement, the potential. Yes yes yes...female empowerment, sisters united, blah blah blah. But there was opportunity here for her.

She’d just been headed to her new temporary, makeshift desk in accounting when she ran into her, well, boyfriend. Though AJ was here doing some work for the construction company hired to renovate the building, she really didn’t want to be seen with him. Things were too big here, there was too much at stake for her to risk getting muddled down by, well, him. “I can’t be the girl dating the hired help,” she said, not smiling, but her heart still thumping.

“Hey, that hurt..!” AJ remarked, taken a bit aback by her bluntness but trying to laugh. Angie looked so good in her short, floral dress, boobs big and on display. “How’s the first day?” he repeated.

Angie faced AJ, mind still swimming with the excitement from the meeting and an electric, estrogen-fueled energy. “Eh, sort of chaotic, with all these new girls, there’s not enough space for us all until the new wing is ready,” she answered, looking him up and down. She’d seen him in his construction gear countless times before, but here - on the job, dirty, as a low-level grunt - he just looked so plebeian. And too tall. “I got to meet the doctor, this morning,” she said, feeling her eyes sparkle and the enthusiasm in her voice, “he’s sooo vulni…”

He’d heard that term before, and he knew how girls were all starting to like that: small, weak, vulnerable men. It had been why she’d had him stop going to the gym, eat less, get skinnier. He thought she liked it, though it never seemed as if it was quite enough for her; he was still tall and lanky, and he felt she’d actually like it if he was somehow smaller than her, shorter than her, weighed less than her. That was the fad, these days, and Angie was into it. But he’d never heard that weird tone in her voice when talking about another guy, not in all the months they’d been together. Here in the supply closet he felt the first pangs of jealousy, starting in his stomach, and it was envy for Angie’s new boss. Not because he was successful, a doctor, and was her superior here (though Ang probably loved that too), but because he was so “vulni” . As he watched her face, seeing how she talked about this guy, the sensation grew heavier, and worked its way up to his throat.

“He was hiding, totally hiding, in his office. But I went in and met him,” she said, “he looked like a kid sitting at a big-boy desk. He was afraid to stand up in front of me, but I bet I’d be taller than him in my heels…”

There it is, AJ thought.

“Your friend Melissa probably has him by more than a foot, then,” AJ blurted, smiling but speaking before thinking and immediately regretting it as Angie’s eyes narrowed, analyzing him. His grin disappeared as her expression changed.

“Yeaaaaah...have you noticed?” she continued, still watching his face, “a lot of the girls here are tall. They’re all hot…”

Smart enough at least for this moment, AJ held his tongue. Saying too much would just dig him deeper into the hole that he was apparently already in.

Angie still looked at her boyfriend of these many months, her smile crooked, and considered him. He’d always felt like she could read his mind, and seemed to be doing it now. She knew what he wanted. “Take off your shirt,” she instructed, hands on her wide hips.

Without as much as a thought, AJ was peeling himself out of his dusty work tee, revealing his trim, lean torso, his ink. Angie’s eyes immediately drifted from his still-defined abs, up his chest and went to the new tattoo on his throat, her name: “Angie Wade”. She reached out and gently caressed it.

“Yeah, he’s surrounded by women here, pretty women,” she continued, once again talking about this dude that AJ was starting to like less and less, “Lots of them are taller than him, walking around in their pumps, their high wedge sandals.” Her hand drifted up to cup the right side of his face, tenderly, watching how her words affected him. “They’re all ditzes, but they adore him,” she said, her expression still hard for him to read, “Imagine that? Imagine being surrounded by huge, brainless bimbos that all love and adore you and just want to get into your pants? I’ll bet he loves it. God that’s so hot.”

AJ, still knowing he shouldn’t say a word, just watched her as she looked at him. Despite his rising jealousy - what kind of girlfriend talks about another guy like this? - he was starting to feel himself hardening between his legs. He had no idea what she was thinking, what she was doing (or why she’d had him take off his shirt) but there were gears turning in her head, for sure.

“And,” she pressed on, “his office is smaller - a lot smaller - than hers. The way she was talking today, you’d have trouble knowing exactly who was in charge, here...” Angie’s left hand had settled behind AJ’s shaved head, holding it, and her right was now resting lightly on his chest. The feel of her soft palm on his shaved skin was exciting him. “...But I’m going to find out. There’s something going on under the surface here, something big. Here. Sit-“

At that, Angie pushed his chest, forcing him to half-sit back on the low shelving unit behind him. He knocked over a couple reams of paper towels, but was left with his eyes at just about boob-level.

She stepped in close.

“Lunch, with all the girls,” Angie continued, smiling again as his eyes settled right into her cleavage, “There was so much estrogen in the air, what with all the laughing and rah-rah cheering for this new place. Most of the girls here are morons, but damn if they aren’t hooked up to the right train, as things are going to be changing.”

She was talking almost to herself, he thought, while he knew he was being so passively quiet. He struggled to think of something to say. “Wow, Ang,” AJ finally spoke, “your tits look really big today.”

Angie chuckled, took a casually deep breath for him.”He’s a boob-guy, just like you,” she mused, reveling in the gift of her naturally big, full bosom, with its perfect, milky skin, “so, yeah, I wanted show them off…think he’ll like me?”

The jealousy continued to sit with him, inside his throat, tightening.

“Well, uh, y-yeah, of course,” he managed, figuring he should be supportive rather than risking her ire by sounding indignant. “Wh-what are they going to have you doing?”

“I’m going to be working with Kathy, this lady reassigned from some pharmaceutical company, to help run the practice’s accounting,” Angie continued, “Technically she’s my immediate boss, for the time being. But it’s okay, for now. She actually sounds like she has half a brain.” Her hand went up onto the side of his head, stroked his scalp leisurely, kept his gaze focused where she wanted it. “If I play my cards right, I’ll get hooked up doing financials for this study, with all the money coming in from the grants,” she said, her tone aggressively self-assured, “I’m going to be on it, totally in the right place, when things go down. Meet the right people, rise up the ranks, make more and more money…”

This was...yikes, wow...really turning him on. Secretly he loved hearing Angie embellish her own ego like this. Her boastful narcissism - she was constantly convinced that she was the smartest person in the room - was just always so hot to him. And he wasn’t nearly sure what she was talking about, but he loved how excited she sounded and how, in the face of his recent career troubles, how powerful she wanted to become. When had he gotten this way? When had he gotten to be such a junkie for the, well, submissive thrill he felt hearing a woman talk about being smart, successful...superior?

“Yeah, well, t-they’ve given me some responsibility too…” he found himself saying, maybe out of a reflexive knee-jerk reaction, some male pride bubbling weakly to the surface, “They’re having us tear out the old HVAC systems, and have me inspecting the venting, some of the thermostats...” Angie was letting him talk, possessively stroking his head, so he just continued. “Supposedly they’re putting in a new central one that’ll handle the whole building,” he explained, “be able to put some sort of aromatherapy into it. Weird, huh?”

“Aromatherapy, huh?” Angie asked, her interest piqued - and betrayed by a new purr, “In the air-conditioning?” She continued to pet his head, and drew in a little closer to him as she thought to herself. “Can you find out...any more about that for me?“

“Oh, uh, yeah...sure…” he agreed, though not really sure what he could do. Lots of this project seemed so under-wraps, at least from the guys. He hadn’t laid eyes on much in the way of blueprints or tech sheets or whatever.

“Good boy…” she praised, speaking plainly, “pull down your pants.”

Suddenly, AJ’s heart leapt. Was he about to get some?? Here in a storage closet?? Ha he’d take anything he could get these days, he thought to himself as he clumsily unzipped his thick, loose-fit utility pants, started to pull them down.

“B-boxers too?” he asked.

“Sure,” Angie allowed, and in a moment they were down at his knees, too. His erection already stood proud; of that he was glad. He wanted her to know how much she turned him on. But, then he thought - how had they gotten here? Didn’t she used to be the swooning drama nerd in high school, who’d barely been on his radar? The one who used to have the crush on him??

“A-Angie…?” he began.

“Shush, quiet,” she said, “grab your cock.”

“Wh-what?” he stammered, knowing exactly what she wanted him to do, “n-no I’m not going to, like, j-jerk off here in a cl-“

“Yes you will,” she stated, her confidence only making him harder, as she physically took his hand and planted it on his erection, balling it into a fist around his turgid shaft, “because you're submissive, just like him, and you’ll do exactly what I say...just like he will, some day.”

”I-I’m n-not,,,’submissive’..!” he bristled, male ego once again raising its battered head in the face of insult and jealousy. Like, what did she mean, ‘just like he will’??

“Okay sure, you’re not submissive,” she chuckled, laughing unpleasantly at his little snit, “prove it.”

With that, Angie took AJ’s full head between her hands, palms on his face and manicured fingers stretching back behind his head, and faced him solidly into her plumply bulging cleavage.

“Now stroke,” she directed, and to his own aghast he couldn’t help but obey. He’d been conditioned, over these past months, helpless when confronted by her, powerless to defy her will...especially when she used her tits. What was wrong with him??? In his hand, with his eyes plastered on the pale, soft flesh of her big breasts, his cock suddenly became even more needy, ached immediately for release. He groaned, both in spleen at himself and this crippling arousal.

She laughed again. “Not submissive, hm?” she purred, “Look at you. You're totally dominated by women. You’re working for women now, you do everything women tell you to do. At the job here, in bed with me…”

”hey..!” he began to protest, eyes rising for the moment, looking for hers, “I thought you liked-”

“Oh, I do, we all do,” she capitulated, shaking her hair over her shoulder with a toss of her head, redirecting his gaze back to her chest, “we love when the roles start reversing like this. Like you, getting to be my little bitch.”

“h-h-heyyyy…” he began to protest, but his voice faded, most of his fight lost between her E-cups.

“Aww, don’t feel badly,” she said, “I’ve been reading up on this. I really think men in general are getting more submissive, turning more beta, just watching as women take charge more. The doctor here included. Look what he’s done - or let happen. This whole place is run by girls.”

“H-h-huh…” AJ stammered dumbly, not even realizing he’d fallen into a rhythm, stroking himself, staring at Angie’s breasts.

“This is my chance, to get in, to take my piece,” she pronounced, ego swelling her bosom like a deep breath, “I’m so fucking alpha, I could run this place.”

”oh, uh, y-yeah..?” he spoke, bewitched and befuddled by every ripple and jiggle under her skin.

“You men like me to be in charge, don’t you? The thought of a woman boss?” she pressed, “You’d all never admit it but it gets you excited, how the women here - everywhere - are really the ones running the show, that any male authority is really just a thin facade, ready to be, like, cracked.”

“Oh my god Angie,” AJ moaned, now in the full grip of arousal, starting to pump himself with more abandon as Angie’s words struck chords with him neither he nor she had yet heard. Angie was experimenting, learning.

“Women have always been the ones to take up responsibilities, accept them and take them on, when men fail. We’ve been getting more able, more and more competent, while you all just, like, get lazy and dumb and shrink away,” she said, watching how his eyes were glazing over, his face going slack. Still he stared at her tits. “And you know the best part? It fucking turns you all on. You like getting weaker, losing responsibility and authority, your lives getting smaller as ours get bigger…”

“J-j-jesus Angie yes,” he stammered, mouth fully gaping now, his whole body shaking as he jacked off to her, to this vision of women.

She pulled his face closer. “Look at my tits. Look how big they are, look how deep and dark my cleavage is,” she commanded, “I’ll bet you wish you could shrink down and sink in there. Just become a little man and live between your girlfriend’s tits.”

“A-Angie n-n-n-...” he began, trying to deny but unable to come up with a sentence, in the face of the shame.

“Shhh, I know. I know what kind of porn guys have been into these days. I know what kind you’ve been into,” she said, “the shrinking, the bodybuilders, the giantesses…”

“unnh...unnnh…” he grunted, vision starting to close in, laser focused between her tits.

“And our breasts,” she continued, but knowing she had him close, “When did you become so obsessed with breasts? Even when you sleep, they’re there, aren’t they? Vision of my breasts swim in your head all night long.”

It was true. Her boobs were all he dreamed about. He moaned in forbearance and began to shudder.

“It’s true,” she said, her words echoing his thoughts, right as his climax began to crest, “It totally is. It’s why you wake up in the middle of the night sucking your own thumb. You want to be our fucking babies…”.

That was it, that was the final blow, and AJ could take no more. He groaned, finally closed his eyes, and came. His body lurched, shook, and cum shot up out of his cock.

Angie backed off, an inch, his head still in her hands. “There you go,” she said, plainly, “don’t get it on my dress.”

AJ, for himself, opened his eyes again, now jerking himself through it while staring into her tits again. He didn’t want to get it on her dress, so he pointed it back at himself, soiling his hand, his belly, his thigh.

“That’s right, get it all out,” she employed, patience now starting to wear thin, a new edge sharpening her voice. Though his climax still had him, she released his head, backing off another step. Her hands went to her top, pulling her neckline now more fully up over her breasts. “Finish up…”

AJ groaned in distress, his orgasm waning but ruined in its final moments. He just wanted those tits to bury himself into, and she was stepping away...

“Mommy’s got to go,” she said, finally, looking down at herself, shimmying herself back into some semblance of modesty, “Now, Aaron. This is it for us. I’m through.”

“w-w-wait whut?” AJ sputtered, confused, as his cock - just starting to deflate - leaked its final jisms onto his hand.

“I said I’m, like, done,” Angie said, straightly, looking down at him again, “You’ve been the perfect toy to practice on, and I’d be lying if I said it hadn’t been fun. But I’m moving on, to bigger and better things.”

“Wait, no…” AJ managed, sobering quickly in shock but still struggling to grasp what was happening, “...are you...b-breaking up with me?”

“Yep,” she said, no hint of empathy softening her words as she watched the guy she’d lived with, the man she’d broken, start to shake. He was flailing, looking down at himself, at his mess, unsure what to do.

She reached out, grabbed a team of paper towels, and tossed it at him. “Here, clean up.”

“Angie, wait,” he tried, pulling several sheets out and starting to wipe himself down. She can’t do this, not now..! he thought, What will I do? Where will I live?? He had to stop her. “Let’s-“

“No, I’m done waiting,” she stopped him, turning away, hand already reaching for the door, grabbing the handle. An image of Melissa, her last Instagram post, flashed into her mind, made Angie seethe. “I’ve got things to do.”

And then he was alone.

=============================

sorry for the poor image quality, ‘twas the best I could do.

more stuff, newer posts at my Patreon

#growing into the job

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sunjaesol · 4 years

Text

written kind of caffeinated, kind of stoned, kind of sleep-deprived juke | 2043 words | pure fluff

He knew that, rationally, he shouldn’t do it. The word “boundary!” blared in his head and the whole thing was really inconsequential and it was so stupid, but Luke simply couldn’t help himself. Was it because of his crush on her? Most definitely. Should that awareness stop him from doing dumb shit like this? Yes, except here he was.

While Julie was at school, she accidentally let the lights in her room on. And so, Luke poofed from the studio into her room to turn them off. Saving power, right? Doing the right thing, being a good person, definitely not going into her room because it was her room.

There was something relaxing about the space though. A sense of serenity falling on his shoulders every time he stepped inside and let his eyes wander and settle on new nooks and corners he hadn’t discovered yet. F+J scratched in the wood of her wardrobe, a box of pretty seashells, four tubes of the exact same mascara in her vanity. It felt familiar and human and simple and so, so Julie.

He flicked the lights off, the only light source being the sun pouring in and casting the room in a gentle glow. Her pink walls were gentler now, the colour of peaches and reminding him of summer nights with his boys on the beach. (It also reminded him of Julie’s peach deodorant that always hung around her and involuntarily made him zero in on her. Alex would argue he was always looking at her, but that wasn’t the point. The point was that the thought of peaches only held fond memories - new memories that now included her too.)

Alright. The lights were off. He did his good deed. He should go back to the boys…

His feet moved on their own accord and plopped down on her bed, sinking into the mattress. His hands caressed the soft comforter, a smile tugging on his lips that thank the fucking music gods, he could still touch and feel things. He would’ve gone insane in an instant if they weren’t able to be in contact with anything or anyone. It was unfathomable to Luke - not hugging Reggie or massaging Alex’s shoulders or grabbing Julie’s hand. To him, music was just another way to share that sensation of contact with people. Didn’t matter if it was loud and rough or quiet and intimate, a ballad or a rock anthem. Connection: that was all he ever needed.

His fingers slid further and suddenly he was laying on his back, staring at the ceiling. Oh, man. Now he really couldn’t leave. Her bed was so comfortable! Definitely better than the mattress he had at his folks or, even worse, the couch. That thing broke his back the last months. Ha, Luke noted bitterly, maybe it was better that he hit the bucket then. Rather dead and setting the stage on fire than living with a hernia, right?

Though Luke still slept (habit? he guessed?), he has never felt sleepy. The boys just hung around or hit the streets and then eventually felt that tug of human normalcy. “Maybe we should go to sleep, guys. Big day ahead.” He didn’t dream. It was just black. It wasn’t unwelcome; just… empty.

But here, laying on Julie’s bed and letting his eyes blur and rest, Luke felt sleepy. Sufficiently exhausted. He didn’t know where that sudden slam of the hammer came from, but he kind of liked it. It made him feel like he was the one that went to school today, or had a tiring shift at some fast food shack, or played a gig. He stretched himself like a star, grinned as all the joints in his back popped, and then rolled on his side. Fucking heaven.

‘What’re you doing here?’

The faraway voice lulled the groggy Luke awake. He felt like he was hit by a truck. Where was he?

‘Hmph?’

She chuckled, his mind speeding up at just the sound and realising that shit, he did fall asleep on her bed and she caught him. His eyes cracked open, coming face to face with an amused Julie hovering on the side of the bed. His brain supplied him with the thought that she looked pretty, reminding him once again that yup, he still liked her. A sheepish smile crawled on his lips.

‘Hey, Jules.’

She rolled her eyes and then roughly pushed him to the other side of the bed. He squeaked, grabbing onto the comforter as to not fall off and gawked at her.

‘Dude!’

‘This is my side of the bed,’ Julie said, pointing at the indent he made. ‘If you’re going to sleep here, it’s on the other side.’

He let out a relieved breath. ‘You’re not mad?’

‘Depends.’ Her eyes narrowed. ‘Why were you in my room?’

Waving his hands towards the ceiling, he muttered. ‘Your lights were still on.’

His reply visibly mellowed her, so much that it kind of surprised him. Her smile melted into those she gave him whenever he found a gnarly lyric or impressed her with a riff or met her halfway for the mic onstage. During those moments, it was hard to deny there wasn’t more, that both knew there was more, but couldn’t really do anything about it. It was really depressing. “Yeah, Jules, I’m fucking crazy about you. Wanna make out and hope I don’t disappear the next day?” Even his impulsive streak wasn’t that extreme.

He hadn’t expected her to smile like that right now. Not when he laid on her bed and her hair was begging for his fingers to slip through and the spot he slept on was still warm. He almost poofed away. Were they going to touch on the “more”? Was this it?

‘Thanks,’ she eventually whispered, eyes dropping and meeting his again with a shyer smile and he knew he was sporting the exact same. A beat passed between them, eyes locked and unwavering. His fingers twitched.

‘Uh…’ Mustering back some rationality, he said: ‘Do you want me to leave, or?’

Her hands stretched out. ‘No!’ Face twisting to something he could only describe as “cringe”, she went on a little calmer. ‘You can- it’s fine. I’m just going to do some homework anyway.’

He watched as she and her backpack found a place on the bed, both very close and very far away all at once. It shouldn’t be intimate, but it was. He was seventeen and she was sixteen and he was pretty sure his crush wasn’t completely one-sided and she just allowed him to stay. There wasn’t music or a guitar or a songbook to hide behind and it sort of terrified him. But in a good way? Like when he went cliff diving and stood at the edge, stomach whooping at the thought of jumping, or when he was at the top of a rollercoaster and the cart slowly began to tilt. It was that. The feeling of quiet exhilaration.

All of that just cause Julie sat next to him bend over a history worksheet. Get a fucking grip, dude.

He didn’t know how long she worked on her homework or how long he stared at the ceiling, hands weaved beneath his head, but it mustn’t been long. The weight shifted and suddenly Julie’s head fell on her pillow with a sigh.

‘No, no, no, Julie,’ he teased, ‘gotta keep those grades up, right?’

She rolled on her side to stick her tongue out. ‘Very funny. You maybe don’t remember it anymore, but school’s exhausting.’

Luke also shifted on his side, chuckling. ‘Jules, it haunts me. That’s why I dropped out.’

‘Cute pun.’

‘Thanks.’ And then, because Luke was never one to overthink: ‘I like this.’

That smile of her came back, the one he always wanted to see. Her eyes crinkled and her lips slightly parted and so incredibly beautiful. He heard music when he looked at her. Death became sweeter if it meant he’d get to stare at the girl of his dreams. It was a morbid thought, but then again, he didn’t deem himself dead whenever he was around her. Luke probably felt so alive around her that it surprised him later on that he wasn’t.

He wasn’t a ghost. Not to her. She didn’t need to tell him for him to know that.

Julie tentatively held her hand out in the space between, palm up and smudged with ink. When he placed his on top, fingers barely intertwining but the sensation like a shot of oxygen, she murmured: ‘Me too.’

They didn’t plan for it to become routine, but it also felt kind of inevitable. Nearly every day, Luke would go to Julie’s room when he knew her day at school was nearing its end and waited on her. She’d come in and briefly recapitulate the day (usually some story regarding an annoying teacher and Flynn with a killer comeback), sliding down on her side of the bed and hold his hands. Some days, her fingertips quietly wandered the lines on his palms, some days his did. It was always quiet. Though the only ones in her room, they whispered. This wasn’t a secret (the boys were keenly aware where Luke spent his afternoons), but it felt wrong to speak at a normal volume when the other was so close.

As the days progressed, they shifted closer. Not intentional, but once again inevitable. Everything about them felt like that nowadays. The longer he was around, the more he realised that this - the bond he shared with Julie - was always meant to happen. Whenever his thoughts meandered to those cosmically impossible ideas of serendipity and couldn’t wrap his head around it, Julie was always there with her smile to bring him back to earth. Or, well, to bed.

And then one day, Julie came home from school, saw him, and without saying anything, crawled right into his chest. His heartbeat didn’t pick up like he expected. It eased and relaxed, sinking deeper into the matress as his eyes fell shut from pure fucking bliss and hugged her closer. Her peach deodorant overwhelmed his senses in the best way possible, burrowing his face in her neck and her smile stretching against his sweater. She was warm and perfectly fit into the curve of his body and he was in love. The acceptance should’ve ached, but it didn’t. How could he think about tomorrow when Julie Molina was wrapped in his arms?

Time froze those afternoons. As long as she kept her head on his chest, as long as they didn’t leave the bed, their island, then nothing could hurt them.

One afternoon, when the sun was reflecting pink and purple splotches on the walls and he was contently dissecting each curl, his heart so full it could explode, he said it. ‘I wanna do this forever.’

He felt her chuckle. ‘Inspecting my hair like a monkey, or…?’

Luke squeezed her closer. ‘C’mon, Jules.’

Her giggles quieted, chin sliding up his chest to look at him. If she found devotion shimmering behind the green, she was correct. He hoped that the warm flickering in her brown ones was the same.

Her voice was small. ‘You do?’

He nodded, every movement too big or too loud, afraid it would ruin the perfect quietude surrounding them. The room melted away, her face all that was left. Before he let the tug in his chest (the same thread that looped them in this embrace) guide him closer, she got there first. Julie surged upwards, barely needing to close any distance to softly find his lips. He cradled her cheek, warmth brimming from every pore on his skin, love pouring from his lips onto hers. It was short and sweet, but their smiles as they did were anything but. It felt like the first flower blooming in spring. Giddy, he kissed her again. He loved her. (It was inevitable.)

Julie hummed an unknown melody in his ear, lilting and just as giddy, her fingers circling right above his heart. It stammered to blend with hers. Luke met her gaze, noses brushing and smiles private and eyes adoring. She loved him. (It was inevitable.)

‘Then let’s do it forever.’

#aight imma head out #juke #jatp fanfiction #not on ao3 cause its too inconsequential lol #julie and the phantoms #otp: i think we make each other better

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hypnomicimagines · 3 years

Text

Fateful Meeting [Ninja!Harai Kuko/Reader]

The young ninja’s eyes were sharp, intense, so much so it felt like you were looking into the sun.

You looked down and away from his glare as you continued to tend to his wounds, ignoring the way he shifted uncomfortably, like he didn’t want you touching him at all. But he was the one who had stumbled upon your home a complete bloody mess, barely conscious as he looked up at you with pleading eyes, a moment of weakness when he thought he was on death’s door. Now that you had given him water and stopped his wound from bleeding his normal temperament had come back, and something told you he wasn’t the most pleasant dinner guest to have.

You had just finished bandaging him up when he abruptly stood, grabbing your wrist to stop you from reaching out to touch him again. You shared a look, wondering if he was the type of ninja to have taken a vow of silence before he opened his mouth for the first time.

“What do you want?” His tone is harsh but you think it’s likely just the way he sounds, if his looks are anything to go by. “You wasted your healing supplies on me, so what is it you want in return?”

“I don’t expect you to repay my kindness. Kindness isn’t kindness if it’s done expecting gratitude. Although I do suggest you spend some more time here recovering before you go anywhere…” Kuko’s eyes widened ever so slightly at your words but he doesn’t allow you to fully see his surprise, his neutral expression returning just as quickly as it had left. He adjusted the mask on his face as he stepped towards the door, ignoring your pleas for him to sit and rest a while longer.

“I always repay my debts.”

“Wait! Can’t you tell me your name at least? Or is that part of the whole secretive ninja clan thing you clearly have going on?” He hesitated for a second at your request, so simple to you yet to him… it was a show of trust. To willingly give your name to a stranger could mean terrible things for someone whose job was to blend in with the night; it would be better if you could forget he was ever even there which is why he becomes even more surprised when he spoke.

“Harai Kuko. Don’t forget it!” There’s a little more emotion in his introduction, a little less cold and far more personality shining through (which reaffirmed your assumption he was not the type of guest to bring home to your parents). But you found yourself charmed by him all the same, gentle smile on your face as you waved goodbye, his name just a whisper on the wind with how quickly he was gone.

You’re in awe at how such a bright shock of red hair managed to fade perfectly into the darkness but he’s gone from your view within seconds, leaving you reeling at the experience, wondering if it had only been a dream. The bloodied bed where he laid as you tended to him told otherwise but you tried not to think too deeply on it, grabbing the sheets to toss into your laundry pile to clean later. You cleaned up the scraps of your bandages and tidied your home like no one had been there, knowing that you had to sleep soon as you couldn’t burn the candle at both ends. You had to be up early for your patients the next morning as well since the work never seemed to end in the midst of the war.

As you’re finishing up there’s several aggressive knocks at your door, your body suddenly tensed as something feels off. Ever since your late-night visitor had left you felt an odd sensation in your chest, this anxiety unwavering in the heavy night air as you wondered how things could possibly get more interesting. When you’re greeted with the sight of two heavy-set men your anxiety finds itself skyrocketing, finding yourself backed into the corner of your own home as they make themselves comfortable.

“Excuse us for intruding. We just happened to see a trail of blood leading here… Are you alright?” His tone indicated he was not at all concerned about your well-being so you didn’t reply, instead trying to fix him with a steady stare that said ‘I’ve done nothing wrong’. “Ah, I see, the quiet type. I don’t mind that however… we’re tracking down a certain menace. A man with bright red hair who we heavily injured earlier today.”

“Why are you asking me?”

“Are you not the resident healer?”

“I am… but that blood trail could have just as easily been from an injured boar who was fighting for territory in the woods. Assuming it was human is a leap.”

“Might I ask why you’re still awake?”

“Some nights my mind keeps me awake with all sorts of thoughts, like whether or not I have to go into town to get more herbs and the like. You’re awfully inquisitive, are you perhaps looking to become a healer rather than being a person who supplies me patients?”

Your temper started to flare up despite you trying to carefully navigate the conversation, wanting these people who clearly came here to threaten you out of your home. You’d dealt with their type before, absolute savages, and you don’t appreciate their intrusion. You’re fonder of the random man who was bleeding out on your doorstep than these people who hurt just because they could, who bullied because they knew people were too afraid to stand up to them. Your irritation doesn’t go unnoticed but is returned with a heavy silence and glares, the two men who had forced their way in their home looming over you menacingly.

Perhaps you should’ve just gone straight to bed.

Kuko hadn’t made it far.

As headstrong as he was even he couldn’t deny the pain his body was in, his wounds aching as they hadn’t closed properly. He was normally far more respectful of the healers back at the temple but he was in a hurry, needing to report back to his father his findings immediately. He didn’t want to bring those hunting him to you either, it would be bad news as they seemed to have no issue slaughtering innocents left and right. He felt like there was a boulder in his gut that was slowing his movements, his body not able to move as nimbly until he’s finally forced to stop. He doesn’t know how far he’s gotten nor how much time has passed but he’s bleeding again.

It’s either turn back towards your hut or continue forward in hopes of finding another healer.

Something else is pulling him back towards you, like you’d attached strings to his body and were pulling at him to come back behind the curtain. Kuko bit his tongue hard to keep himself conscious, leaning against a tree, taking a deep breath, and then starting the journey back to your home. He’d have to prepare a proper apology for impeding on you so late at night but the sudden sense of urgency that rushed through his body stopped his needless worrying, walking forward with a huff.

He didn’t know why but he had to get back to you.

Now.

Your head is pounding as you lay in a crumpled heap on the floor, hands raising to cover your head to prevent further damage to your skull. You’d be in more pain if you were fully conscious but you’re only partially aware of what’s happening to you, your house in shambles around you. The place had been torn apart, the bloody bandages from earlier thrown across the room as they had been found during a ‘mandatory search’. The table you had been sitting at was flipped over and jars of needed herbs were tossed on the floor, even worse, now your own blood was staining the floor.

You’re fighting to stay awake, eyes scanning the floor for anything to defend yourself with but it was a fruitless endeavor. Your hands were meant to heal not harm, you weren’t suited for anything like this, and your assailants were clearly far more skilled than the average soldier. You wished you could say you put up a better fight than the pathetic mess that actually happened but there wasn’t time for self-pity.

“Hey you bastards! Didn’t hurt your pride enough after round one?”

Ninja’s are supposed to be quiet, stealthy, but Kuko had burst onto the scene like some sort of hero in a play. You’re wide-eyed as you spot the shock of red hair but your vision is so blurry and your brain so scrambled you’re worried you’re just hallucinating him. Your eyes met his for a second, your pleading reaching Kuko’s heart immediately; if he hadn’t been so carefully trained his entire life, he thinks his anger might’ve exploded in that moment, causing him to do something he’d regret. To see someone who had treated him with kindness, without asking any extra questions about who he was, someone who was likely innocent and had no means of defending themselves…

It pissed him off.

You hear the sound of skin on skin, some cackling that you’re sure is your ninja savior despite how high-pitched and wicked it sounded, and what you hope isn’t your house getting torn into even more pieces. Your face was buried in your arms as you were growing more exhausted, knowing the moon must be high in the sky at this point. You should’ve been in bed hours ago. Who would help your patients tomorrow when you could hardly help yourself? You weakly managed to bring your head up to survey the room around you but it’s suddenly silent, not a soul in sight until Kuko re-enters your home from the front door.

“Should I ask where you took them or just rely on blind faith?”

“You don’t have to blindly trust me but those assholes got what they deserved,” Kuko scoffed as he walked over to you, lifting you effortlessly so he could bring you over to your little bed (which had stayed clear of any debris). “Shit, I’m tired.”

Your eyes widened as Kuko lowered the mask so he could breathe a little easier, his face so smooth except for a scar on the underside of his chin. You can see a few more scars peeking out from the tears in his clothes but you don’t allow your mind to wander. Kuko is currently questioning why he just revealed his face in front of a civilian without thinking twice about the consequences, knowing this was yet another rule he had broken. There was a strict code all ninja were expected to follow and he’d already broken at least two rules, even more because he actually found himself liking you. He would be lucky if he got out of this unscathed by his father, not that he gave a damn what that shitty old man had to say to him, but he’d rather make his life easier.

“You’re bleeding… your wound from before reopened, didn’t it? I need to help you…”

Kuko shied away from your touch but you can see he’s actively fighting his body’s natural response to protect himself, freezing in place to allow you to place a hand on his shoulder. You kept your movements deliberately slow to prove you meant no harm, not like you could even consider raising a hand to him after he had saved you from who knows what kind of fate. He had half a mind to argue with you about trying to help him when you were injured yourself but he was too tired to even argue, his dad would’ve laughed if he heard that one.

“We should sleep…” After you had replaced his bandages with clean one you sent an exasperated look to your home, disliking the fact it was so messy despite none of it being your fault.

“We can just clean tomorrow.” Kuko flopped himself unceremoniously onto the floor beside your bed, hands behind his head like a pillow with his legs crossed; he winced a bit at the impact but otherwise gave no indication he was uncomfortable. You’re about to question his decision to sleep directly beside you but there really didn’t seem to be enough room in your home with a table flipped over in the middle of it, so it was easier to just settle yourself in beside him and hope he wasn’t secretly some pervert.

Wait, did he say we?

“So, you’re going to stay this time?” You turned on your side to look at him, “I could use some extra help in the woods tomorrow… It shouldn’t be too rough a walk with your injuries… but I guess it’s selfish of me to ask a stranger to just help me out with my own chores…”

“Hmph. I guess I can help.” Kuko’s eyes are closed yet he’s unable to sleep, peaking one open when he hears you shuffling around next to him in an attempt to get comfortable. Even with a bruise forming on your temple you’re as stunning as ever, the young ninja biting his lip as he wondered how much of this was a sense of duty and how much was just him indulging his personal desires.

“Thank you…” You finally whispered out as sleep overcame you.

Kuko is left speechless, cheeks warm as he tries to settle his rapidly beating heart.

#Harai Kuko #Kuko Harai #Hypnosis Mic #Hypnosis Microphone #Hypnomic #Hypnosis Mic Imagines #Hypnosis Microphone Imagines #Hypnosis Mic x Reader #Hypnosis Microphone x Reader #Harai Kuko x Reader #Hypnosis Mic Scenario #Scenario #AU

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elmidol · 3 years

Text

Propane Nightmares [NSFW]

Pairing: Tyki x Reader x Earl

Warnings: Noncon; dubcon; loss of virginity; aphrodisiacs; canon-typical religious elements; fingering; double-penetration; oral; potentially other elements?; some verbal humiliation; probably some blasphemy

Notes: Originally Written April 25, 2011. Titled after “Propane Nightmares” by Pendulum. word count is a little over 8k.

reposting for @maskedjoker because I saw that tag on my Earl and Tyki thirst post~

Propane Nightmares

Originally, you had been appointed the task of gathering more information on the Noah after rumor had circulated regarding formal meetings between them and the folks of high society. Such was your job as a finder. No one had bothered the divulge, however, that the Noah had been tipped off on the Order’s intentions; there had been no cancellations on your orders, and, subsequently, no means for your knowing that your drink would be laced with drugs. It had been a sleeping drug, which had caused you to wander off from the other guests prior to passing out. When you had awoken, you had found yourself chained to a chair, your feet snug against the legs of the chair, and hands bound behind your back. Tyki Mikk sat in front of you, straddling a second chair, whose back was facing you. You watched his lips twist upwards upon his noticing you had awoken.

Your eyes wandered around the room, taking in all of your surroundings. It was a study of some sort, from what you could tell; a few bookshelves, a desk on the far wall, and an assortment of chairs. Upon returning your gaze to the Noah, you released a small gasp and your eyes widened—a second man stood behind Tyki. This gentleman you had previously believed to be one of the Earl’s many brokers. His current presence, however, allowed you to realize that he had a more intimate connection with the Family Noah. I wonder what his powers are, you thought to yourself; the Order already possessed information regarding Tyki Mikk’s abilities. Due to this fact, you jumped half an inch in your seat when Tyki leaned forward.

“Don’t be scared, girl~” Tyki said calmly, his smile a mockery of innocence. You shuddered at how well he pulled off the nice-guy façade. “We just want to ask you some questions.”

You swallowed hard, stiffened, and then took a deep breath. “I…I’ll die before I tell you…anything.” Despite the stutter and hesitance, your tone held true to the courage you were feeling—you were willing to die before handing over any sort of information to these men; no, they were monsters.

Tyki reached past the back of the chair and placed his hand on your knee. His fingers gently rolled the muscles surrounding your kneecap, the actions reminiscent of a massage. “The Order has made sure you won’t talk even when pressured by torture, right?” You narrowed your eyes slightly, your teeth gritting together behind your frown. Tyki’s voice dropped in volume, growing husky. “That’s why I’m here~”

“So what, you’ll remove my organs one by one?” you ground out, jerking your knee away. Your joint hardly slipped out of the Noah’s hands before the chain prevented you from venturing further.

Tyki smirked, swung his leg over the side of the chair, and stood in a fluid, graceful movement that left you blinking. You shrank into your seat a little. He, on the other hand, closed to distance between the two of you and there knelt. His eyes locked with yours; you held his gaze with eyelids half-closed. Your heart beat faster in your chest as you fully expected him to reach within you—his hand slid closer, fingers travelling up your leg—and you were waiting for him to go for a kidney. Without removing your clothes, his flesh met yours—in a much different manner than what you had expected.

You released a loud gasp prior to biting down on your bottom lip and averting your gaze; his fingers danced along your inner-thigh, travelling upward until just their tips met with your lower lips. You shifted your hips away from his touch. Tyki, an amused grin spreading at your retreat, only thrust his hand forward, and slipped his middle finger into your depths. Your eyes widened, and your legs began to shake.

“St-stop.” Tyki only stuck his tongue out at you. You stared at the organ, a deep flush settling on your face as he waggled it suggestively. He started thrusting the single digit in and out. He cupped your entire pussy in his hand, rubbing your outer lips while continuously withdrawing and plunging his finger inside of you. You squeezed your eyes shut and attempted to cross your legs. The chains prevented you from accomplishing this task; all you had managed to do was trap Tyki’s arm between your thighs. Your breathing grew labored, and you flinched when a second finger was added.

The Noah gripped your legs with his free hand and spread them once again. He pushed his torso closer to you, making sure you would be unable to shift too much for his liking.

The Millennium Earl, meanwhile, had shifted position in the room; he stood so where he was able to better see what Tyki was doing to you. At the same time, he made certain he was able to view your face. His lips twitched upward upon seeing you begin to rotate your hips in time with the Noah’s sinful fingers.

Just as your body was beginning to grow warm, just as you could feel the tingling waves of pleasure coursing through yourself, Tyki’s fingers retreated. Your eyes snapped open. You continued to pant, unable to tear your gaze away from the sight of Tyki’s tongue lapping against the digits that had previously been inside of you.

“How many days have you been here?” the Noah asked, cocking his head to the side. Through with speaking, he sucked his fingers into his mouth and released a husky moan that sent fire shooting through your loins.

You only shook your head in response.

Tyki sighed, seemingly disappointed, before straightening himself up. He stood in front of you at that point, his hands working at the front of his pants. You swallowed twice as saliva gathered in your mouth, your breathing growing heavier by the minute. This sensation was foreign to you; having been recruited by the Order at a young age, you had been discouraged from participating in any act remotely sexual. In fact, education on sexual manners had been so censored that your eyes grew wide as saucers the moment Tyki tugged his pants halfway down his hips. The sight of his penis enthralled, disgusted, and repelled you at once.

You could not tear your eyes away even as he reached forward with on hand, gripped the back of your chair, and with the second hand took hold of his cock.

“That was an easy one too,” Tyki said with a laugh, his breathing growing rigid as he began to pump himself. He watched you, and was overly amused by the fact that your eyes were glued to his growing erection. “Ah, that’s right. You were probably raised by the Order, huh? You’ve never seen a dick?” He shifted his fingers to allow you a better view.

You bit down harder on your bottom lip and forced yourself to look away; fascinated though you might have been, you were still convinced of the Order’s teachings that premarital sexual activities were wrong—sinful.

The second male moved into your line of sight. You stared at him, still unsure of his abilities as a Noah. His presence also made you highly uncomfortable knowing that he was watching every dirty deed Tyki had performed—and would likely perform—with you. Tyki’s hand stopped mid-stroke and he muttered out ‘Duke’ when the man stepped between you and the Noah of Pleasure. Your eyes widened considerably at the revelation—the Millennium Earl had a human form, and said form was currently standing before you. He removed the hat from his head, set it off to the side, and stood erect once again. Your eyes were locked with his as he repeated Tyki’s previous question: how many days had you been there?

“You…you can go suck a dick!” you said with a hiss.

The Earl and Tyki both laughed a single, baritone chuckle and locked gazes with one another. Tyki’s hand ran up his length while the Earl motioned towards the Noah of Pleasure’s erection. “That one?” They both watched your face; the expression of pure and utter shock, of morbid curiosity and disgust as it crossed your features. Your eyes flickered between the Earl’s motioning hand and Tyki’s shaft.

“Th-that’s….”

Before you could finish your sentence, the Earl interrupted you, supplying an ending, “A sin?”

“A handful of sins!”

He cocked his head to the side, suddenly interested. “Oh? Not just the homosexual aspect, I see. Has the church taught you that oral sex is a sin? Then…if I were to…” With each word he moved closer to you, knelt between your legs, and had you literally trembling as his hands reached into the hem of your pants. He tugged them down, your panties in tow, and blew lightly on your exposed pussy. The warm air had you gasping and closing your eyes tightly. “…do this…” He pushed his face into you, his tongue wiggling out of his mouth and lapping at you. Your mind swam with a multitude of emotions as the sensation of immense pleasure filled you. His tongue retreated long enough for him to finish, “…are we sinning together?”

Your bottom lip slipped out from between your teeth, a chunk of shaky breaths erupting from your mouth. The Earl, meanwhile, began nibbling your inner lips, his tongue flicking along and tracing the entrance of your vagina prior to slinking in. You looked away from the Earl, trying to force the sight of him eating you out from your mind—the feeling alone was enough to boggle your brain. This, however, only resulted in you catching a glimpse and thus becoming entranced by Tyki’s hands pleasuring himself. One hand rolled his balls around, the other running up and down his shaft, fingers caressing the head.

You spread your legs wider just slightly without realizing what you were doing, and the Earl grinned at the obvious invitation. He left you disappointed; though amused and pleased with the fact that your body was responding so nicely to his ministrations, he drew back. Tyki, likewise, stopped masturbating, and your gaze fell away from him to the Earl’s face. You stared at the head of the Noah clan, your face flushed with arousal, embarrassment and anger, and your breathing coming out in deep pants.

“How many days have you been here?” You shook your head. Your mind, though blurred with pleasure, served just as well to remind you that you were not to divulge anything to the enemy. To this, the Earl only shook his head. He leaned forward, gave your pussy a single lick, and withdrew his tongue once again. You gasped, your hips bucking to meet the organ. “Was it one?” You bit your bottom lip yet again.

Tyki’s eyes were focused on your face, searching for any hints. “No.” The Earl nodded, leaned forward, and thrust his tongue into you deeply. You threw your head back, moaning, the sound muffled by your closed mouth. A whimper then escaped you—the Earl had pulled away. “Not quite,” Tyki commented. Again did the tongue assault you, that time trailing from your lower belly into your folds. You shook your head, and the Earl repeated the action in reverse.

“Oh God, yes!” You hated yourself for saying it, despised the fact that the Noah were laughing at you.

“Four days,” they said in unison. The Earl looked up at your face from his position between your legs. “Is that right? Four days?” You could not meet his gaze. “Or was it more? I could keep going.” You felt yourself growing wetter with his words. His mouth returned to your pussy, and he began suckling. You could no longer hold back the moans; a single finger had joined the Earl’s tongue—Tyki’s finger. The Noah of Pleasure knelt beside the other male, both intent on driving you over the edge it seemed.

Simultaneously, they pulled out. “It was four, right?” Tyki asked you. Before your mind, so filled and blinded by pleasure, could function correctly, you found yourself nodding. Then you stiffened, realizing what you had done. You bowed your head in shame, tears forming in the corners of your eyes. “Don’t cry~” Tyki and the Earl spread your legs apart as far as they could go while bound. You winced slightly at the pain this caused you, and stared at the two men through watery eyes. “We’ll make you feel better~”

Your jaw dropped, and you could not even fathom what to think when the two Noahs’ tongues met—they failed to kiss one another fully, instead opting to not only rub their organs along one another’s, but also inside of your wet pussy. You gasped, swallowed, and fought for breath at the sensation of the two tongues battling for dominance against one another while still buried in your folds. Tyki’s was the first to retreat, and he blew lightly against your entrance, which was still being fucked by the Earl’s tongue. The Earl then moved away, having felt your walls tighten around his organ in a sure sign you were close to orgasm.

“Doesn’t this feel nice? The three of us sinning together.” Tyki chuckled off to the side, running a hand through his hair to push back his bangs. The Earl made light, small circles on your ankle as he spoke.

Swallowing the saliva gathered in your mouth to keep yourself from drooling, you forced yourself to take a single, shaky breath. You were doing all that you could to calm yourself, to bring your body under your mind’s command. Regaining most of your normal composure, you were able to once more glare at the Millennium Earl and Tyki Mikk with pure defiance in your eyes. Seeing the challenge this posed for gaining future information from you, the Earl grinned widely. You barely managed to fight off the shudder that threatened to run down your entire frame. This was a battle of wills, and you refused to allow yourself to be defeated, especially by the likes of the two present Noah.

The Earl stood before you and then walked behind your back. You felt his fingers dancing along your wrists, tapping against the chains that bound you. You turned your head to see what he was doing, however your attention returned immediately to Tyki when he raised himself as well. His dick stood painfully erect before you, and you eyed the organ warily while listening to the Earl’s next question.

“Did you recognize anyone to be Noah here?”

Inhaling deeply, you allowed your eyelids to drift close and outright refused to answer the question. To this, the Earl only gripped the chain one your wrists, tugging lightly so where the metal bit into your flesh. Used to this sort of pain from your training, you made no noise of complaint. Your heartbeat was beginning to return to its normal rate as well, your body completely unperturbed by the metal slicing through several layers of skin. The Earl shifted to where his mouth was directly beside your ear. Again did your heartbeat increase its rhythm; the feeling of his breath on your ear reminded you of the sensation below, of how skilled his tongue had been. You clenched your hands into fists and fought for control over yourself, almost winning when he asked:

“They water-board you as part of your training, correct?” You stiffened slightly. It was true that you were no stranger to being water boarded, however that in no way indicated that you enjoyed it. You twisted your torso a fraction of an inch to look up at his face. The Earl peered down at you, his expression one of pure indifference. “Does drowning scare you?” You blinked once. “What about choking—did they shove anything into your mouth, hmm?” Your eyebrows furrowed, and the Earl smiled in self-congratulations.

He moved to where he stood in front of you and motioned to Tyki. The Noah of Pleasure took up the position the Earl had previously held, his hands then seizing the restraints. You tensed your legs upon feeling your hands pulled back, and you knew full well the moment he used his power to push your hands and the chains past the back of the chair.

“Do you know what we’re doing?” You were too absorbed in what Tyki was doing to make note of who asked the question. The Noah of Pleasure released your hands, once more returning to the Earl’s side. The two men shared a look prior to the Millennium Earl grabbing you by the shoulder and literally tossing you onto the ground. He caught the chair before it was able to follow suit and collapse onto you. You winced as your shoulder then face smacked into the floor. A small whimper escaped from you, however you fought back any other noises.

You groaned as the Earl rolled you onto your back then sat on the chair, staring down at you. He placed his feet on your legs, which were twisted slightly due to the position you were currently in. You shifted, attempting to alleviate some of the strain, and were stopped by both the restraints around your ankles, and the Earl pressed down on you. He asked again if you knew what was going on, and that time you shook your head.

The Earl nodded, his eyes drifted towards Tyki, who recognized the signal immediately. The Noah of Pleasure straddled your chest, the tip of his erection touching your lips. Catching onto what they were planning, you swung your head to face the far wall. Your eyes were widened in horror, your heart beating loudly and quickly in your chest. You were certain Tyki was able to feel your pulse.

“Don’t even think about biting,” Tyki said. He then looked skyward, rubbing his chin. “Not that you really could.” The Earl and Tyki laughed at your expense. At the same time, Tyki gripped you by the hair and forced you to face him. He shifted his hips forward, the head of his penis flush against your lips. You could smell his musk, could feel the precum dripping onto you. All you had to do was keep your mouth shut, you told yourself. That’s all you had to do. Tyki grinned down at you, his teeth and eyes reminding you of a monster—you trembled at the sight of the trademark Noah-grin. You remembered at that exact moment that it did not matter if you opened your mouth or not—his ability made you completely vulnerable even should you successfully keep your mouth shut.

But that was not what he wanted, and you realized this upon feeling the Earl’s foot stomp down hard on your ankle. You whimpered and gasped, feeling the bone break, and instantly regretted it as Tyki thrust his hips forward, his penis entering your mouth. He did not stop there; the Noah made certain that his dick hit the back of your throat, and you gagged around the organ. Tyki slowly withdrew then rolled his hips again. You felt tears forming in your eyes, rolling down your cheeks, as the sensation and thoughts of dying from asphyxiation clouded your mind. Above you, Tyki moaned. His fingers tangled themselves in your hair, and he forced your head to bob up and down his length while he fucked your mouth.

After thrusting into your throat several times, he withdrew from your mouth. Still seated on the seat behind Tyki and above you, the Earl repeated his previous question: Did you recognize anyone to be Noah here?

You, however, were busy coughing and gagging. Fighting to catch your breath, you sobbed. All the while, Tyki continued to run his hand through your hair, rocking his hips, ever ready to resume. It seemed to them that you took too long; you screamed around Tyki’s erection as it entered your mouth and once more hit against the back of your throat. The vibrations of your scream caused Tyki to groan loudly in pleasure. You attempted to jerk your head away from him, but were unable to due to the fact that Tyki still held captive your hair. He did, however, relent slightly; the Noah no longer pressed himself to where he hit your throat, but instead ran the head of his penis against your tongue. You tasted the precum, at the same time your nostrils were filled with the scent of his musk. For a second time, Tyki withdrew from your mouth without cumming. He stared down at you while, for a third time, the Earl asked the question.

“J…just…” More tears spilled down your cheeks; you did not want to betray the Order, but it did not count if the information was harmless, did it? No, you told yourself. It wasn’t betrayal if it didn’t hurt the Order. “…I only…I only recognized the ones…that the Order…” You swallowed hard, your throat sore. “Only the ones that the Order already knows of…”

The Earl nodded, but you barely saw the action past Tyki’s body. The patriarch of the Noah family shifted in his seat, his own pants becoming unbearably tight. In his next question, you heard his voice deepen, grow husky: “What Noah do the Order know about?”

Your legs were growing numb, and you attempted to move them to get the blood flowing once more. The Earl allowed this, and even aided you just a little by pushing against your shins. Your gaze flickered to Tyki, then darted to the Earl, and finally settled on the Noah of Pleasure’s face. He was staring down at you lovingly—it was all about lust, you well knew.

“I…I don’t know,” you said quickly, hoping this would satisfy the two. Tyki only sighed, gripped your head, and ignored your protests as he entered your mouth against. This time, his moan was loud. It echoed in your head as his hips rolled forward, the head of his dick sliding against the roof of your mouth. It tickled somewhat, and you shuddered in response. He moved, alternating between running the upperside of his shaft against the roof of your mouth, and the underside along your tongue. Your throat constricted the moment he ventured to move in that deeply. You hardly heard his hiss of ‘Oh, fuck yes’, your vision growing blurred from the lack of oxygen. You attempted several times to breathe through your nose, however were assaulted and overwhelmed by his scent.

His thrusting grew more frantic. You felt his hand hit against your chin, and your brow furrowed before you realized that he was cupping his sac while he continued to rape your mouth. You shut your eyes tightly, knowing what was coming—knowing that he was about to cum. You hoped and prayed that he would go ahead and thrust once more into the back of your throat so that you would not have to taste him. Those prayers remained unanswered; Tyki made certain his seed spilled on your tongue and filled your mouth. Upon pulling out, he slammed a hand over your lips, preventing you from spitting out the semen.

You swallowed several times, fought off the urge to gag, and sobbed pathetically when Tyki removed his hand. A handful of tears slipped down your cheeks; you were completely and utterly disgusted with yourself, were sure that you were going to Hell for what you had been forced to do—that’s what the Order had told you would happen. Tyki moved off your chest, and both Noah watched you cry. The younger Noah ran a thumb up and down your cheek in a semi-comforting manner. You could only shake your head in response.

“But…but I really…I really don’t know that,” you said, sobbing loudly and voice breaking several times during that short sentence. “I just…only ….the list…”

The Earl hummed in response; it was a bit late for him to be agreeing with you, to be accepting that answer, you thought. Tyki had already had his way with you.

Standing, the Noah patriarch took out a piece of paper from his pocket. You recognized it immediately as the list you had mentioned. If he already knew about the list….then why would they do that…? You sobbed yet again. He then knelt between your legs, reaching backwards and snapping the chains off with a brief summoning of dark power. You yanked your limbs away from him, curling in on yourself in an attempt to hide your lower half from his wandering eyes. Tyki watched with vague interest as the Earl seized your hips and pulled you into his lap. You cried into his chest, his hands crossed behind your back and unlocking the shackles on your wrists.

Your arms, sore and tender from the position they had been trapped in for so long, flopped lamely to your sides for a minute. Blood pulsed through your limbs in an aching speed that had you tensing and hissing in discomfort. At the same time, you were not oblivious to the Earl’s own growing discomfort, to the erection pressing against you from under his clothing. His hands were lecherous, venturing to touch and rub first your arms, then your hips, and finally your chest. He squeezed your breasts, causing you to gasp and attempt to retreat. Pulling away, you landed on your back against, only to have the Earl roll on top of you. One hand remained on your chest, pinching a nipple through your shirt and bra, and the other rested beside your face in order to prop himself up.

You grit your teeth together, shutting your eyes and gasping as he rolled the nipple between finger and thumb. His hips pressed into yours, his erection pressing tightly against your wet pussy. You whimpered beneath him, and felt tears running down your cheeks yet again. He began licking up the salty-water that fell from your eyes, his lips pressing gently against your eyelids after following the trail.

“Were you able to gather any new information on the Noah?” he asked, the hand abandoning your breast to trail between your two bodies—down, down, running over your abdomen, next your pelvic bone, and finally a knuckle slipping between your folds as he gripped the zipper of his pants. You heard him tug the metal down, and felt his hand move against you as he undid the button as well.

You opened your eyes and stared at him, horrorstruck as he pulled himself out of his pants. His hips shifted lightly, however he made no mood to penetrate you. “I….I…” He ran his tongue over his lips, and you stared, hypnotized by the pink organ. He slipped his hand back up your body, first cupping your thigh and slowly massaging up. You were growing wetter the higher he went, panting as his thumb hooked for just a moment into your pussy, massaging your clit prior to venturing higher. Subconsciously, you spread your legs further for the Earl and he rewarded you by pressing forward. Your body tensed upon feeling the head of the Earl’s erection brush against your lower lips. “Please…d-don’t.”

“Just answer the question,” he told you, although he obliged in the slightest by shifting to where his penis was not so snug against you.

“Y-y-yes.” You looked away from his face, staring instead at one of the bookcases in the room. This was getting to the point of betrayal, you told yourself. Anything further and you would be damned if you answered their questions. At the same time, you told yourself that you were damned if the Earl or Tyki had their way with you; premarital sex was immoral! You sniffled, chest heaving with yet another sob. “Just pl-please don’t.” You pulled your hips away from his, your hands moving to cover yourself. The Earl watched this with fascination, and Tyki also observed your actions with growing interest.

“You’ve already told the Order the information?” the Millennium Earl asked, placing both hands on either side of your head and moving to where he was on all fours over you. You sobbed in response to his interrogation. That was enough of an answer for him. “What information did you give to them?”

“I…I can’t…I can’t…” You felt as though you were suffocating; the feeling of weight on your chest, of air not able to get into your lungs was worse than when Tyki had fucked your mouth. Your throat was still sore from the abuse, and every ragged breath you took only made things worse. You gulped in a mouthful of air, fear clenching your heart as the Earl started to undo the buttons on his shirt. You shook your head, hands flying up to grab his, to stop his actions. He paused for only a moment as your fingers curled around his hand, and stared down at you. His erection throbbed painfully at the sight of you sputtering out nonsensical words, of you begging him to please wait. Then he resumed undressing himself, that time with more fervor, his eyes half-lidded with lust.

You pulled yourself out from underneath his body successfully just as he was shrugging his shirt off of his shoulders. However, you had completely forgotten about Tyki’s presence, and were startled when the second Noah’s arms wrapped around your waist to stop your escape. While the Earl finished pulling off his pants, and while you tried to tear yourself from Tyki’s grasp, the Noah of pleasure peeled your shirt from your body with his ability. You covered your chest, which was then covered only by your bra, and thus left yourself open to Tyki’s hands removing your pants and panties completely from your body.

Crossing your legs, you turned your body halfway away from the two men, trying to hide yourself. The Earl sighed in contentment at the sight, and Tyki made quick work of removing his own clothes. He used only one hand, the second squeezing between your thighs, two fingers rubbing against and then into your vagina. You gasped, yours hips initially jerked away from the contact before Tyki began curling and uncurling the digits. At that point, you could not stop your body from responding to the touch. It did not help either when the Noah of pleasure tugged you closer, your back against his torso, or when the Earl moved to where he had better access to you. His hands gripped you, forced your legs apart, and he thrust two more fingers into your depth. You released a small scream at the pain that flooded through your mind, unused to such stretching and pressure in the lower regions of your body.

“Stop! That hurts!”

“Oh~?” Tyki peered down at your pussy from over your shoulder, watching as his and the Earl’s fingers thrust in and out of you. A few drops of red and pink came out as he jerked his fingers away for a moment. “You really are a virgin.” The fingers returned, and you jumped at the intrusion, bouncing against Tyki, accidentally causing the fingers to thrust into you harder. The Noah of Pleasure kissed the top of your head, his lips and kisses trailing down the side of your face, until he arrived at your neck. He nibbled at your flesh, tongue flicking out and teasing.

You were starting to moan as the fingers wiggled and danced within you, as Tyki’s tongue lapped at your neck, as the Earl’s free hand squeezed and tormented your breasts. You threw your head back, sobbing and moaning at the same time. It was getting hard to breathe, it was getting—so fucking hot. You felt sweat running down your body as you moved your hips in time with the fingers. Tyki’s hand joined the Earl’s and started to play with your other breast. The Earl, likewise, moved forward and started to lick the other side of your neck. You felt several times their tongues meet as they licked every inch of your neck. Tyki’s erection pressed into your back and you gasped, your tongue lolling in your mouth.

The Earl withdrew his fingers first, running them along your body and trailing upwards until he was able to lick both your neck and your juices at the same time. He then shifted and ran his tongue down your body, over the line he had previously smeared on you. Your tears seemed to have dried up, and you could only manage a shaky breath and a weak sob as the Earl’s mouth engulfed you. He sucked at your wet pussy, his tongue running along Tyki’s fingers and your inner walls.

Tyki withdrew his fingers, caressing the Earl’s face for a moment before moving both hands to your hips. You watched the action, confused. “Duke, we’re still going to ask her, right?” Tyki asked, pressing closer to you. The Millennium Earl kissed back up your body until his face was above your head and he looked Tyki directly in the eyes. You looked up to watch the pair, your mind and body still coming down from the high that the two Noah had given to you. You leaned your head against Tyki’s shoulder, and continued to pant. The pair of men gazed down at you, watching you watch them.

“That’s correct.” Your teeth clamped down on your bottom lip as he moved to where his forehead rested against yours. “What information were you able to give the Order?”

You shook your head, closing your eyes tightly as you released your lip in order to say, “I’m not…not allowed…I won’t…”

The Earl seized your hips, his hands directly above Tyki’s. Both Noah forced your hips forward, and you scrambled against the feeling of the Earl’s erection against your entrance. He slammed his hips up, burying himself in you immediately. A scream ripped from your throat at the sudden intrusion. You jerked your body, attempting to remove yourself. The Earl, meanwhile, groaned loudly and whispered a multitude of words regarding how tight you felt.

“Oh, God!” you whimpered. “You…I’m…”

“Were you saving it for your husband~?” Tyki cooed, nuzzling you while dropping his hands from your hips to your ass. You stiffened as he began to knead your flesh, and you stared at the Earl, who had yet to move since he first entered you. “We’re very good at destroying innocence~” The two Noah laughed, and you shuddered.

“Are you going to answer the question?” the Earl asked, lifting his hips further into yours. You wiggled against him, unable to remove yourself from him as his hands held you in place. Tyki continued to massage your butt, his fingers running over your cheeks and seeking a different entrance. You tensed upon realizing what he was doing, your head whipping around to look at him. He smirked at you in response. “You have five seconds….four…” With wide eyes, you looked at the Earl. Tyki’s fingers wiggled into you, causing you to buck your hips. This resulted in your gasping and the Earl moaning lowly in his throat. “…three…”

“Wait, wait…”

“…two…” Tyki positioned himself, the tip of his erection pressing tightly against your anus. You opened your mouth then closed it. “…one…” Eyes impossibly wide and mouth hanging open as you prepared to beg once more for him to wait, you felt the wind get knocked out of you as Tyki thrust forward. A handful of screams tore from you, and once more you found yourself sobbing as your mind was filled with a searing pain.

“I hell need going stop trouble,” you said. The two men looked at your face, both blinking as you sputtered nonsense. The Earl was the first to laugh, and Tyki followed this by a chuckle. Both shifted their hips, attempting to establish a rhythm. You grit your teeth and hissed in pain.

Tyki looked at the Earl past your shoulder and suggested, “Maybe you should lay down?” The Millennium Earl obliged, shifting to where he was on his back and you were on top of him. Tyki moved forward at the same time, making sure he did not slip from your tightness. The new position did help to alleviate some of the pain you were experiencing.

You placed your hands on the Earl’s chest when you felt as though you were about to collapse from the slight discomfort that remained. The Earl and Tyki rotated their hips another time, and you shifted as a hint of pleasure washed over your body. Not again, I can’t be enjoying this—not again, you screamed at yourself in your mind. All the same, you could not prevent the ‘mmm’ from escaping you. You ran your tongue over your lips, the room suddenly feeling hot beyond all reason. You felt the heat start to center around your belly before it shifted lower.

The first time you rocked your hips in time with Tyki and the Earl’s thrusting, your mind hardly registered it. The second time, you cursed yourself. On the third occasion, however, you were growing so hot that you hardly cared. The phrase ‘I’m going to hell’ repeated itself in your mind over and over, and still you continued to ride the two Noah. You ran your hands up and down the Earl’s bare chest, trailing your fingers by the tips only down the Earl’s abs. They shuddered under your touch, and the Earl gave an appreciative moan, jerking his hips into you. You rolled your hips against his in return, making sure to wiggle against Tyki, who started suckling at your neck in response.

Suddenly the two paused, and it was you alone who was riding the pair. They both fought the urge to resume, seeing how eager you were growing. Tyki and the Earl steadied your hips with firm grips. You stared down at the Earl questioningly, mind in a boggle from the pleasure you were receiving. Your teeth started to saw through your bottom lip—it was so hot in the room! There was so much pressure in the lower half of your body, pressure that demanded you move against the dicks that were buried within you.

“What information did you tell the Order?” the Earl asked. You groaned in response, your hands shoving against the limbs that were holding you in place. Below you, the Earl rotated his hips a second before Tyki also swiveled himself. You moaned as a result, eyelids fluttering closed. “Did it involve our abilities?” This time, Tyki thrust forward, forcing the Earl deeper into you.

“Oh…mmm…” You were breathing unevenly, your hands running along your own body. One hand cupped a single breast. You pinched and rolled a single nipple, kneading the breast as your other hand wormed its way to way you were able to thrust a single finger into yourself. You moved it up and down the Earl’s shaft before focusing on pleasuring yourself.

Tyki pulled out of you right before the Earl flipped you onto your back, his hips withdrawing until his dick left you with a slick sound. Then he slammed himself forward, reentering you. You wrapped your legs tightly around his waist, bucking your hips into his. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as he started to fuck you from his kneeling position. You removed your finger from yourself and grasped at the Earl’s balls, rolling them and touching them. All too soon, the Earl reached behind himself, unhooked your legs, and pulled out; you cursed as he regained control of the situation.

“That’s a pretty strong aphrodisiac you put in her drink,” you heard Tyki say as your focus swam. “How much did you give her anyway?”

You were unable to hear the Earl’s response. You had once more buried your finger into yourself, adding a second as you started to scissor yourself. The two Noah watched you for a minute as you brought yourself to the pique of pleasure—and then the Earl seized your hands , securing them behind your back. He forced you backwards into his lap. You wiggled against him, trying to position yourself over his erection before noticing that Tyki had moved in front of you.

“I shouldn’t have given her that much,” the Earl muttered as you spread your legs for Tyki. The two Noah smirked; you threw your head back as Tyki entered you. Your hips were immediately moving against his, your legs wrapped around the man in order to force him closer, deeper. You were panting heavily by then. Tyki chuckled, moving in and out of you with skill. “Hmm.”

The Earl pushed you into Tyki’s arms, releasing your hands. You grasped the Noah of Pleasure’s shoulders, still riding him even as the Earl thrust into your anus. You groaned out an ‘oh yes’ and shifted to where you could enjoy them both in full.

Tyki’s hands were on your thighs, and the Earl’s on your chest. You had your legs wrapped around Tyki’s torso and arms draped behind you around the Earl’s neck. You pulled him closer, pressing your lips against his in such haste that your teeth collided. The Earl growled in response, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth. Simultaneously, Tyki started to nibble once again at your neck. Your lips left the Earl’s and you seized Tyki’s, your tongue running along his. Not allowing you much of a chance to get away, the Earl leaned further into you, his mouth joining. The three of your tongues fought for dominance, slipping on occasion into someone’s mouth, although you were never quite sure whose.

For a second time, both men pulled away and out of you. You whimpered; they had grabbed your limbs and stretched you out to keep you from pleasuring yourself.

“Did it have anything to do with…” The Earl paused, breathing heavily. “Did the information regard the Noah’s abilities?”

“Oh fuck…” You could feel that you were so close to cumming. Your body was screaming for the two men to enter you, while your mind battled with the effects of the aphrodisiac and the knowledge that you should not reveal anything to the two men. You swallowed hard, eyes wandering over Tyki and the Earl’s naked bodies. The sight of their erections alone was about enough to make you cum. “It was…how…the looks…”

The Millennium Earl whipped you onto his lap, where you immediately wrapped your legs securely in place; while he thrust inside, you pushed yourself onto him. The Earl reached past you, gripping Tyki’s hips and forcing the Noah of Pleasure against you. Tyki obliged without complaint, moving to where he was able to reenter you. He gripped your hair and harshly yanked your head back, literally shoving his tongue towards the back of your throat. You whimpered then moaned in response, moving your hips in time with theirs.

Your hands were running up and down the Earl’s chest, until you found his abs again. Releasing your hair, Tyki reached in front of you, his hands gripping harshly at your chest. You shuddered in slight pain and noticed that his rhythm was increasing, that he was getting close. You continued to kiss him, your hands seizing the Earl’s wrists and bringing them to your chest as well. The Earl groaned lowly, leaving one hand on your right breast while the other grabbed you by the back of your neck. He jerked you forward and claimed your mouth. You felt yourself tighten around him as he thrust his tongue in and out of your mouth, mimicking what was going on below. You came for a second time, and this caused the Earl to cum only a few seconds following. Tyki continued to thrust into you even after the Earl pulled out.

He then paused, realizing what had happened, and forced you onto all fours while pulling out. He positioned himself at the entrance of your vagina and then thrust forward. He had one hand on your back, keeping you in place while he fucked you as though you were an animal. Not that you minded in the least at that point—you were rocking your hips back into his.

You reached forward with a single hand, gripping the Earl’s shaft as it softened, and leaned until you were able to lap up the semen and juices that had stuck to him.

“Fuck, that’s hot,” you heard Tyki say. He pulled all the way out and then thrust forward, forcing your face further into the Earl’s lap. A moment later, Tyki came with a loud groan. He continued to thrust into you until his shaft had fully softened.

At that point, you were so hot once more that you rolled onto your back and, not caring who was watching, started to fuck yourself with your fingers. Tyki licked his lips, an action that the Earl mimicked. Both of them spread your legs and buried their tongues within your depths. “Oh, fuck yes,” you hissed jerked your hips into their faces. Tyki licked a trail from your pussy up to your neck then back down again, while the Earl forced your finger away and started to roll your clit between his teeth. When you felt Tyki slip his tongue into you again, you moaned. You felt your walls tighten around their tongues, almost sobbed in pure ecstasy as they continued lapping at you even as you came. You were left gasping for air when they moved away from you. Tyki wiped his chin with an arm, all the while licking his lips.

“Still can’t believe the Order was dumb enough to send a girl~” You blinked at him, your mind not fully registering what the Noah was saying.

The Earl took a deep breath, stared down at you, and made a noise of agreement; in the back of his mind, he wondered if the Order had expected this, but then dismissed the thought immediately upon reflecting on all the information he was able to gain from you. He then pushed himself into a standing position and crossed the room, where he retrieved a cup of water. The Millennium Earl sat beside you, helped you into his lap, and pressed the rim of the cup against your mouth. You greedily started to drink the water, whimpering as he would pull the glass away then replace it. He seemed to be purposely spilling some of the water on your chest.

Again he took the cup away from you. That time he did not give it back, instead taking a sip himself. You reached for it, but were unable to retrieve it as Tyki took the water and sucked down what little remained.

“Do we kill her?” the Noah of Pleasure asked, rubbing a hand down your back. He stroked you as though you were a house pet. You stiffened at his question, looking between him and the Earl. “She might tell the Order what you look like.”

The Earl brushed back some of your hair. “I’m not worried about that.” He captured your bottom lip between his teeth, caressing the area of flesh with his tongue. He released you, looking at Tyki. The Earl then shifted his gaze to you. “I wonder—what is the Order going to do to once they find out everything?” You shuddered at the thought; even if they did not put you to death for your acts of heresy, you were certain you would not be welcome amongst your comrades. “I suppose we’ll just have to return her.” You did not like the way he grinned as he said that. Your mind screamed as he once more moved atop you, as your body, under the influences of the aphrodisiac, responded to his sinful, lecherous hands.

*****

You crossed your arms over your chest as you stared at your superiors. The way quite a few of them were eyeballing you left a wave of chills running through you; quite a few of them were leering at you in the same manner both the Earl and Tyki had. This fact alone made you wish that you had been able to leave out the information regarding your debauchery, however the Order had made it clear that they would tolerate no editing or omitting to your tale. There was a mutual agreement amongst your superiors that your body would need to be cleansed; at that, you shuddered. All the while, they admitted that they were thoroughly pleased with the information you had provided—especially that regarding the Millennium Earl’s human appearance. Really, he shouldn’t have allowed you to live.

#tyki mikk x reader #millennium earl x reader #d.gray-man fanfic #dgm fanfic #tyki smut #millennium earl smut #propane nightmares

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sentakushimasu · 3 years

Text

if i can't taste your lips just let me taste blood

pairing: bakugou katsuki/kirishima eijirou summary: work studies are meant to be educational, not fatal, but bakugou and kirishima are trapped with a growing puddle of blood and no way to get out genre: hurt/comfort, whump word count: 2.6k warnings: blood, hospitals, bakugou trying to articulate emotions title from: we are the dirt - it's never enough AO3

When Kirishima came to it was with a lot of confusion and pain. The first thing he noticed was the searing pain emanating from his abdomen that blurred and subdued his other senses. The second thing he noticed was that it was really dark.

Dark to the point where he wasn’t sure if he was opening his eyes at all, unable to figure out where the hell he was or how he got there.

The pain, however, was very clearly not a fixture of his foggy and disoriented brain. It kept getting worse, the burning sensation reaching all the way down to his feet. In the haze of pain he couldn’t pinpoint any actual injury, only able to tell that there was something really heavy pressing down on his midsection.

The whine he let out was involuntary, but if he was alone he was going to make as many pathetic noises as he wanted.

Only, he wasn’t alone.

“Kirishima? Kirishima, are you awake?”

That was Bakugou’s voice, but Bakugou never called him by his name, and especially not with the worry that currently saturated his tone.

Kirishima grumbled and tried to push the weight off him. It was so heavy, borderline crushing him but he couldn’t get it to move. What he assumed were Bakugou’s hands swatted his away from whatever was pinning him down.

“Fucking hell, would you stop that?”

Kirishima squirmed again, trying desperately to get even a little bit of the weight off him. “There’s something on top of me-”

“Yeah, that’s me. You’re bleeding.”

“Hmm? Sorry,” Kirishima floundered until his fingers connected with Bakugou’s wrist, looping around the limb. “You can stop, I’m alright.”

“What the fuck? No. You’re fucking bleeding everywhere.”

Bakugou’s face came slightly more into focus as Kirishima’s eyes adjusted to the darkness. He kept looking between Kirishima’s abdomen and his face. He looked worried, and if Kirishima didn’t value his life he would dare say that Bakugou was scared. He was still in his hero gear, the stupid theatric spikes framing his head, a distinct trail of blood marring his features as it trailed down his face from his hairline.

“Are you hurt?” Kirishima couldn’t help but ask.

“What? No.”

“You’re bleeding,” Kirishima supplied helpfully.

Bakugou narrowed his eyes and turned back to the wound, applying more pressure. “Not as much as you.”

Swallowing the whine in the back of his throat, Kirishima decided to actually start a conversation with his friend. He had no idea how long they would be there and he wasn’t into spending that uncertain length of time in tense silence with Bakugou. “What happened?”

“Work study. Big villain attack so Endeavour sent us out as backup. One of ‘em cornered you in here so I came to tell ‘em to fuck off but you were on the ground and when I exploded the asshole, the fucking ceiling caved in.”

“At least I’m not stuck in here by myself, hmm? That would be unfortunate.”

It was supposed to have been a joke, something to lighten the mood between them but Bakugou’s expression remained firm as he offered no reply.

“How bad is it?”

Bakugou paused, the silence hanging heavily between them. “It’s fine, you’re gonna be fine.”

Kirishima just hummed. “You’re a terrible liar.”

Dark spots peppered his vision and he was beginning to realise how tired he felt. He knew Bakugou was fighting a losing battle.

“I’m not fucking lying, okay? You’re going to be fine.”

“It’s okay, Bakugou. Can I just ask you to do something before I die?”

“You’re not going to die, you asshole. Fat Gum is going to come for you, you know he’d never leave you here.”

The exhaustion was creeping in with the tingling sensation in his arms and legs. He was so cold. He had half a mind to ask Bakugou to set off some explosions and hopefully warm the air. But they were trapped with potentially limited oxygen and Bakugou was too smart to ever risk that. “Is he going to be fast enough? You said there was a villain, he’s probably too busy.”

“Shut up!” Bakugou snapped, his expression and tone immediately softening as the harshness registered. “You’re not dying today. Or tomorrow. Or any day that I’m alive to see. I won't let you.”

Kirishima closed his eyes, letting himself imagine what it would be like to die with Bakugou by his side. A cruel part of his chest tightened as he imagined asking Bakugou to hold him before he passed out.

The taste of blissful unconsciousness lay heavy on the back of his tongue as he spoke. “Will you stay? I don’t wanna go alone.”

“You’re not going fucking anywhere, and I’m not gonna leave you.”

“I think I’m dying, Katsu.”

Kirishima could see the way Bakugou flinched at the use of the nickname. He would have apologised for being so informal but he was tired and he didn’t have the energy to be sorry for trying to feel close to Bakugou in his last moments.

Perhaps the reaction had been to the idea of Kirishima dying, but that seemed less likely. Bakugou was persistent in reminding everyone that he didn’t care about anything or anyone other than becoming number one. Kirishima had always admired his determination but right now he just wanted to pretend that Bakugou cared about him.

Falling in love with Bakugou Katsuki was probably the dumbest decision of Kirishima’s life but he would never live to regret it. Not while Bakugou stayed with him, trying to staunch the flow of blood from a wound that was likely severe enough to render Bakugou’s efforts useless.

The older boy didn’t look at him. “You’re just delirious from the blood loss, you’ll be okay.”

“Why are you being so nice to me?”

“Because you’re fucking bleeding out!”

“Yeah,” Kirishima mumbled with the limited energy he had left, “but why is it suddenly a big deal? You've said repeatedly that you don’t care about anyone else.”

“I lied,” Bakugou hissed through his teeth, his jaw clenched with such force that Kirishima was worried the bone would shatter under the pressure.

Kirishima’s eyebrows pinched together in confusion. Well that made no sense.“Why would you lie?”

“Because I love you, goddamnit! So you’re going to stay awake and we’re going to get out of this and go on a date or some shit, but we can only do that if you stay awake, okay?”

Oh. Kirishima tried to speak, but his tongue felt like a lead weight in his mouth that he couldn’t lift no matter how hard he tried. The fog was pressing in on him much harder now.

Bakugou’s voice was muffled by the fog as he spoke again. “Fucking say something. I just confessed my feelings for you, you don’t get to fucking ignore me now.”

Kirishima was aware that he should be worried by the way it was taking more and more of his energy to keep his eyes open, but he couldn’t find the strength to care about anything other than the fact that Bakugou just said he loves him.

“Kirishima?”

“No- No, fuck, no, Kirishima you have to keep your eyes open!” Kirishima hadn’t even noticed they’d fallen shut, but he couldn’t seem to open them again, despite how much he wanted to stare into Bakugou’s red eyes forever.

Kirishima could feel something tapping on his cheek, shaking his shoulder. Bakugou’s voice was so broken and raw when he spoke his plea. “Kiri, please.”

That’s weird, Bakugou never says please.

As the last shreds of consciousness left him, Kirishima swore he could hear muffled yelling somewhere close to his head, he couldn’t make out the words.

But it didn’t hurt anymore.

Kirishima didn’t expect to wake up.

It was as simple as that.

He had been bleeding badly enough that Bakugou hadn’t even let him look, and had seemed genuinely worried and afraid for his friend’s wellbeing. So at that point, waking up was a feat on its own.

Waking up without being in excruciating pain was something else entirely. He just felt floaty and not real. But he definitely wasn’t dead because he was uncomfortable and the lights behind his close eyelids were way too bright.

“I would try to send you back to the dorms but I know you won’t listen to me even if I erase your quirk and drag you kicking and screaming out of here,” Aizawa’s gruff voice said from a place Kirishima couldn’t pinpoint. There was a lot of aural input that just dissolved into directionless static.

“I’m not leaving him.”

That was Bakugou’s voice, with its hard edge and underlying fire. It cut through the haze of Kirishima’s lingering unconsciousness, it didn’t have the same fuzzy edge to the syllables that Aizawa’s voice had.

Aizawa must have clicked his tongue before speaking again in his monotonous drawl. “You need to rest too. That concussion isn’t going to go away on its own.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Bakugou bit back.

“Then, pray tell, what matters more than your health?”

“He does.”

He wanted to fight against the stupor, to reach out and smack Bakugou upside the head. His friend was concussed, and chose not to rest, in favour of keeping a bedside vigil. At this point, it was the only thing that was convincing Kirishima that he didn’t hallucinate what Bakugou said before he passed out.

Not that it made much sense.

“Kirishima would want you to take care of yourself.” Kirishima is going to shake Aizawa’s hand the second he can muster up the energy to do so.

“Kirishima also wanted to die of blood loss and traumatise me instead of just staying awake, so I’m not going to listen to what that asshole wants.”

“You know as well as I do that the doctor said he probably won’t be coherent until tomorrow morning even if he does wake up tonight. I can drive you back to the dorm and pick you up before visiting hours.”

Kirishima could practically hear Bakugou shaking his head. “I’m not leaving him alone.”

“He won’t be alone. Fat Gum and I will be here all night.”

Bakugou’s next words were haunted, hollowed out to fit an emotion Kirishima had never heard from the older boy. “He asked me to stay with him.”

“And you did, you saved his life,” a third voice added. Kirishima was cognizant enough to be able to recognise it as being his mentor.

“Go to bed, Bakugou,” Kirishima mumbled, scrunching his eyes up tightly as consciousness fully came back to him. He wished someone would turn the light off.

“Kirishima?” There was too much noise in that moment for Kirishima to figure out who had spoken, but he suspected that all of them had something to say about his return to wakefulness.

He tried to lift his hand, hoping to cover his eyes from the bright lights of what was undoubtedly a hospital room, only to find it pinned in place.

Opening his eyes to the onslaught of light revealed that his hand was being firmly held in Bakugou’s. Okay, forget his previous claims, he was definitely dead. Or, at the very least, having the best dream of his life.

Kirishima groaned. “You guys are loud.”

“Sorry, kid,” Aizawa said in his usual grumble. His chair was the furthest away from Kirishima, sitting all the way in the corner of the room. He looked the same amount of disheveled as he usually did but his posture held a weird tension that Kirishima wasn’t sure he had ever seen before.

“How are you feeling?” Fat Gum asked, he was out of his hero suit which, to Kirishima, looked very odd.

“Pretty okay, all things considered,” Kirishima said, directing his gaze towards his friend.

Bakugou was the most noticeably different. His hair was scruffy and matted with blood, a stark white rectangle of gauze taped to his forehead, a few little strips holding a cut on his eyebrow together. He didn’t speak, but he didn’t let go of Kirishima’s hand either.

Feeling particularly spontaneous, probably due to the bucket full of pain meds that were undoubtedly currently in his system, Kirishima gave Bakugou’s hand an experimental squeeze.

Bakugou stiffened but the tension quickly left his body as he squeezed back, turning to meet Kirishima’s eyes and give him a soft smile.

Their exchange was silent but they said all they needed to.

I heard you.

I love you too.

Kirishima tried to adjust himself, to get a better look at Bakugou’s injuries. Only to promptly collapse back onto the hospital bed as pain blasted through all of his senses.

“Idiot,” Bakugou hissed.

“Take it easy,” Fat Gum said, “you were in surgery for a long time, you don’t need to be pushing yourself.”

Still trying to breathe through the pain, Kirishima opened one eye to look at the pro hero.

“Surgery?” he managed to grit out from between his clenched teeth.

Fat Gum’s eyes softened as he looked at his mentee. “We found you both not long after you lost consciousness, but you were in rough shape. You’re going to need to take it easy for a while.”

Kirishima groaned. “That sounds boring.”

“Not as boring as an extended recovery period because you refused to take care of yourself,” Aizawa chided.

“True,” Kirishima said. “What time is it?”

Fat Gum was the one to speak this time. Bakugou stayed remarkably silent. “A little past midnight, you spent six hours in surgery and we’ve been waiting for you to wake up for about two hours now.”

“And Bakugou isn’t in bed?”

“Nope. We tried but he won’t budge. Better to let it happen at this point.”

Kirishima rolled his head to the other side, narrowing his eyes at Bakugou and the older boy’s stony expression. “Go to sleep.”

Bakugou met his gaze with his usual stubborn fire. “You first.”

“If you stay, will you sleep?”

Bakugou nodded.

“Aizawa-sensei, can he stay?”

Kirishima had expected Aizawa to argue, but he was just met with a soft “okay”.

Whether it was the cocktail of medication or the trauma his body had suffered, tiredness hit Kirishima like a wave. As his blinking slowed down, he swore he saw a soft smile grace Bakugou’s lips before his other hand reached up to brush Kirishima’s hair out of his face.

“Goodnight, Kirishima.”

Kirishima just hummed, too tired to speak.

Kirishima woke up the next morning with Bakugou wrapped around his arm that was free of tubes and wires, snoring softly.

Carefully picking up his other hand and ignoring the presence of the IV in the crook of his elbow, he began to thread his fingers through Bakugou’s messy hair. The older boy didn’t stir, a true testament to how exhausted he really was, especially considering on any other day Kirishima could breathe sideways and Bakugou would all but leap to his feet.

Instead, Bakugou’s hold just tightened slightly as he mumbled something in his sleep.

A quick glance around the room told Kirishima that Aizawa was asleep in his chair in the corner, his face buried in his capture scarf, surprisingly sans his usual yellow sleeping bag. Fat Gum was nowhere to be seen but judging by the empty chair with a blanket on the seat and jacket draped over the back, he couldn’t be far away.

There was a weird bliss to the quiet atmosphere of the hospital room. The soft morning light filtered in through the window as opposed to the harsh lights of the night before.

The pain meds took away from the discomfort of being in a hospital, and with Bakugou clinging to him like he was the most important thing in the world was something Kirishima could easily be convinced was a dream, a fantasy conjured by his unconscious mind.

He could get used to this.

#mha #bnha #my hero academia #kiribaku #bakugou x kirishima #bakugou katsuki #kirishima eijirou #mha fanfiction #mha fic #bnha fic #bnha fanfiction #kiribaku fanfic #max.doc #boku no hero academia

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riddleblack246 · 4 years

Photo

For @scoobydean and @destielsecretsanta2020

“This could be nice for Jack.”

“’My First Christmas’. Cas, this is meant for babies.”

“It’s still his first Christmas with us.”

“That mean we should get one for you too?”

“If you’d like.”

Read below for some Team Free Will 3.0 holiday head canons~!

After everything goes down with Jack makes use of his new abilities, Sam and Dean are much more willing to fight to keep him with them. He initially wonders if it is because he’s “useful” to them now. The brothers promptly inform him that no, it’s because this is the first time where they can all feel safe enough to take a breath. Sure, they’re still hunters. But after everything they’ve been through, they all deserve a chance to enjoy life without constantly looking over their shoulders. And so Jack stays.

As promised, he brought back those that were loved and lost. Obviously everyone is relieved and thankful, but that is most clearly seen in the return of Eileen and Castiel. Sam and Eileen are quick to pick up where they left off. Castiel, however, is a bit more hesitant. He didn’t expect to ever see Dean again. He truly thought he wouldn’t have to know Dean’s feelings and when he confessed, he felt he could live with that. But now he’s suddenly back in this world, aware of his existence and the knowledge that he told the man he’d been in love with for over a decade how he felt. But Dean doesn’t allow him to panic for long. Enveloping Cas in his arms, he’s squeezing the angel’s vessel so tightly that he can barely get out the words. Nonetheless, he does and finally returns the sentiment that Castiel never expected to hear.

“I love you too, Cas.”

And now to dig into holiday centric joys!

By the time Christmas rolls around, the bunker’s primary couples have developed a sense of routine. Eileen has finally moved in and Dean and Castiel have eased into a comfortable romantic domesticity. And for the first time in a while, there are no hunts to investigate or major threats to take on, and the Winchesters found themselves able to celebrate the holidays in a way that they hadn’t had a chance to in some time (save for the Mrs. Butters stint).

On the first of December, Dean sits down in the library and begins to make a list, trying to figure out exactly what was expected of a traditional Christmas. When Sam catches him, he expects scoffs of disagreement or just bored indifference. Instead, he supplies the idea of inviting some people to the bunker.

“What, Sammy? You want to throw a Christmas rager?” (The statement does earn him an eye roll)

“No. I just thought it might be nice. See everyone together.”

Neither of them explicitly say why it would be nice, but they know the relief that would come with seeing each person they never expected to see again. Dean tasks his brother with making a guest list and sending out an e-mail to those on it (because Dean draws the line at trying to make actual invitations).

The response is overwhelmingly positive and soon enough, they’re fielding constant texts from Garth, asking if it would be okay to bring his kids, and e-mails from Donna, offering to bake a multitude of requested holiday treats.

Amidst holiday planning, the group allows themselves to give into expectations of the season. Jack and Castiel are largely in the dark of what is or isn’t part of the holidays and while Dean, Sam, and Eileen aren’t the most immersed, they do have an idea of what is to be done and are admittedly eager to dive in.

One of the first things on Dean’s list is to decorate a tree. He even insists on cutting one down himself, as aside from various times he had to cut and sharpen his own stakes, it’s something he’s never had a chance to do. Sam, reluctant to join him, tells his brother to have fun. In the spirit of “giving”, Dean bring Cas and Jack along, assuring Sam and Eileen that they’ll “be a while ;)”. They return some hours later with a tree that rivals the Rockefeller Center and relief in the fact that they have two celestial beings to transport something of that size. Decorating it is another story.

After digging through the bunker and finding that, no, the Men of Letters did not hoard Christmas ornaments or wreaths or any such things among their piles of artifacts and cursed objects, the groups decides to get a little shopping done. They initially hit a big box store for a bunch of basics - lights, tinsel, various colored balls (Dean makes several jokes about this), but as the month goes on, all of them are guilty of picking up random items to decorate with while out.

Eileen delightedly shows her boys a Christmas pyramid she bought and is quick to tell Jack that he can’t light it whenever he wants, as forgetting about it could result in burning down the bunker.

Sam buys all of them advent calendars, each dedicated specifically to every member of the bunker. Dean doesn’t comment on Sam’s shift toward the holiday spirit, not only because he’s happy that his brother has allowed himself to be more joyfully invested in things, but also because every day for the month he gets to appreciate a new and weird specialty bottle of hot sauce. Sam’s own contains different types of tea, Eileen’s has jam, Jack’s has little LEGO figures, and Castiel’s has coffee.

Jack nearly gives Dean a heart attack one morning when the man wakes up to find a nutcracker as tall as he is in the crow’s nest. Jack tells him all about finding it in a shop he and Castiel passed when getting supplies and insisting that it was a perfect thing to have for the bunker. Dean looks to Castiel and knows the angel would have been too soft to say no. Then again, he knows he would have been just as guilty.

Castiel begins buying ornaments for people in the bunker. Even with Dean teasing him about it, he does buy a “my first Christmas” ornament and puts a photo of Jack inside that Eileen helped him print out. He finds that he is particularly fond of ornaments that contain photos and begins to buy ones for that explicit purpose.

Dean doesn’t necessarily have a type of decoration that he finds himself buying outside of what they have, but he is fond of the lights. He usually insists they stay on as long as allotted, urging whoever is the last to go to bed to turn them off (though it’s usually himself).

When it does snow, Dean is eventually irritable about it with Sam and Eileen in a similar boat, though to a lesser degree. Shoveling snow out of the way of the bunker’s entrance is a pain in the ass and none of them love the chore of getting treads on their respective tires. But seeing Jack’s fascination with it - and realizing that it’s his first time encountering snow, they find themselves softening.

After getting help in clearing access to the bunker, the group spends much of the day outside. There is an unspoken agreement that they want Jack to experience all the great enjoyments of snow and it honestly brings out the kid in them too. They build a mediocre snowman (Sam takes the heat for his poor artistic skills), make snow angels (the jokes about Castiel doing so get old within five minutes), have a snowball fight (Eileen is fucking ruthless and not above putting snow down jackets), and creating makeshift sleds to race. The sledding is what ultimately makes them go back inside. Garbage can lids are hard to steer and after Dean eats it by running into a tree and loosing a tooth, even Cas fixing it doesn’t resolve the choice to go in. Nonetheless, the accident doesn’t stall the mood, as Dean insists on introducing Jack to one more awesome component of the Traditional Snow Day - the hot chocolate at the end. Said hot cocoa almost results in a fight when, after Dean makes enough for all of them, Castiel reluctantly admits that he doesn’t care for it, and Dean and Jack nearly come to childish blows over who gets his mug. Later that evening, Castiel makes sure to thank Dean privately for allowing Jack to have it. ;)

Now, when it comes to cooking, Dean likes to consider himself pretty well-versed. Baking is another story. The preciseness that’s required is what gets him. Sure, he can be meticulous, but he’s always been more of a “little of this, a bunch of that” kind of guy over exact measurements, which leaves a lot more room for error when it comes to baking. But after going on a “Gilmore Girls” binge with Castiel (the couple constantly debates the superior show of the former and “Dr. Sexy, M.D.”), he can’t help imagining a scene of tenderly showing Cas how to roll out dough and mussing some flour in his hair and watching the angel lick the spoon in a way that borders on pornographic. The day after watching, he’s searching for cookie recipes and telling Castiel to dig out some aprons.

As is the Winchester way, this expectation does not come to fruition. Cas, as he thought, didn’t know a thing about cooking or baking. But Dean pictured being able to guide him, to do all the romantic shit you see in Hallmark movies. Instead, the angel is complaining about not being able to just will the baked goods into existence, standing in the way when Dean needs to get any kind of ingredient, and getting flour on every fucking surface in the kitchen. Things reach a boiling point when Cas pulls the cookies out of the oven, sans oven mitts, and for a brief moment, Dean’s brain operates on a panic reflex and snatches the tray from his hands. The result is their hours of baking scattered all over the floor, a dented baking sheet, and second-degree burns on the hunter’s hands. He’s huffing and cursing and he fully expects Cas to scold him and point out the obvious fact that he’s an angel and such temperatures have no effect on him. But instead, he watched Castiel pulled his hands from the faucet (having immediately shoved them under there after he burned himself) and tenderly brushes his finger tips over the wounds. Dean feels the familiar sensation of healing flesh, something he hasn’t felt in a bit and he’s silent as Cas brings the newly healed skin to his lips and presses a kiss to his palms. The irritability baking had brought them is gone. Dean lets Cas wave the kitchen clean and they decide to just go out and buy Christmas cookies instead. Later that evening, Cas’ lips taste like ginger and Dean finds that the reality is way better than the fantasy.

They ultimately end up hosting the party that started their shift into the Christmas spirit a few days before the actual holiday. After all, they know most of their friends prefer flying over driving and it might be a lot to ask them to come out on the actual holiday. But their concerns of traffic and irritated guests soon fly out the window in the face of so many familiar… well, faces. Hugs never stop coming and despite everyone’s claim that gifts would not be necessary, everyone knows that’s bullshit and a pile beneath their ridiculous tree grows with every teasing comment and expression of happy holidays.

Speaking of the tree, Castiel is quite pleased with his holiday crafting and the other members of the bunker share that sentiment. Since the angel discovered the photo-insert ornaments, he had taken it upon himself to spend random periods during the month finding photographs of each important person in their lives that he could and putting them into such items. Everyone takes joy in searching for their own picture. Claire comments that he picked a terrible one of her, but Cas hears her quietly asking Dean if she could take it home with her, as it features her and Kaia pressed close in a hug. Charlie adores her’s and insists that she wants to make the same craft, but only if they do it together. Everyone quietly appreciates the ones made for those that aren’t present to appreciate them. Jack ensures that Mary’s ornament has prime placement. Eileen hugs Sam when she catches him looking at Kevin’s for a while. Dean makes a point to kiss Castiel privately after finding Bobby’s nestled among some tinsel. Everyone agrees that their the best decorations in the place.

Hunters and those that know them have never been known to operate on a normal schedule, so it is nearly three in the morning before the bunker clears out. Some have elected to drive home if the trip was relatively easy. Others have settled into the many spare rooms that the bunker holds. Once all the gifts have been opened, the eggnog’s been drunk, and everyone has eaten their weight in treats, only Dean and Cas remain in the quiet bunker. They sit together in the library, positioned on one of the many extended seats they’d brought out to fit their guests. The lights of the enormous tree are still on at Dean’s request and Castiel can’t help staring at the way the different colors still look so beautiful on him. He glances up at the other decorations strewn about. The bows, the poinsettias (Garth had brought something like ten of them), the holly, the- He spots a familiar item of decor. He’d seen Sam and Eileen equally position themselves under it in wait of their partner, always stopping them with the insistence that a kiss must be administered before they continue on their way about the bunker. Lazily, he nudges Dean and points to the archways between the crow’s nest and the hall that leads to the bedrooms.

“Is standing beneath that a requirement for kissing?”

Dean follows his finger and huff out a laugh. Even though they hadn’t been dating long, they’d been together for so many years that he knows the angel is teasing. He turns to meet his eyes, smiling at the way the lights almost change them from blue to a rainbow of color.

“What, you want to kiss under the mistletoe? Now?”

For a moment, it seems as if he’s considering the offer. But instead, he shakes his head and reaches a hand up to cup Dean’s cheek. He knows that he could have kiss Dean under there the same way Eileen and Sam do. But he knows they’re different. Dean is a lot of thing and as much as he would deny it, one of those things is private. Their relationship is simultaneously new and so so ingrained into their life. Affection was always something there, just beneath the surface. And while he had the thing he desired for so long, that doesn’t mean he feels the need to push Dean into a realm of affection that just isn’t fitting of who they are together. Leaning forward, he captures Dean’s lips in a kiss. He tastes like eggnog and candy cane.

Castiel understands all the more that happiness is in the being. And he no longer fears his joy. Because he can’t imagine being happier than holding Dean beneath these lights and knowing that they still have tomorrow and so many days to come. There is no better present than that.

#destielsecretsanta2020 #scoobydean #supernatural #Destiel #saileen #saleen #jack kline #my posts

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