#small/quick role... hm...)

[just-sp-in-inginthevoid]

Hey!! So these days I’ve remembered a joke that was quite popular in the fandom about Shinichiro not being able to get a girl because Wakasa was always with him and they would choose Waka over Shin. I just wonder how much of this could be true, since we don’t have any info of Wakasa interest in this topic or if he know he is good-looking and uses it to his favor.

Idk it is nice to hear your thoughts about it.

Hi there!!

First of all, I love the idea that Shinichiro got rejected so many time because of a bunch of different reasons, one being that his flirting skills are so bad his awkwardness somehow surpasses his good looks (I'll argue that in-canon he was meant to embody any average Japanese man with no specific physical trait (despite having a mixed-race dad) but like, scratch that, Shinichiro is handsome. Perhaps not in an outstanding, eye-catching way, but he is very good looking.) and leads to girls basically running away because he's being overly head over heels for a first meeting, is being a tiny bit too hopelessly romantic than it's acceptable (and sounds desperate sometimes) or starts talking about bikes because he saw an opportunity to and he lovesss talking about them (and the only other conversation topic that comes easily to him is his siblings) so it can go on for hours - so they leave. Shame on them.

(Another reason is because he goes up to girls he saw from afar before confessing his love and they reject him because.. they don't know him - at most they know his face but he barely if ever spoke with them. He's a loser, I love him)

Secondly: Wakasa's part in all of this.

We already know Wakasa loves to mess with people, to troll them (it's in the guide book), and we also know that Wakasa - alongside Benkei - made fun of Shinichiro rather often (teen Wakasa and teen Benkei's sole two lines are really just this lol (chapter 230 and 269)). I'd find it hard to believe for Wakasa to not be aware of his attractiveness. I don't see him looking for a relationship, but he must know the impact he has on others - even only objectively speaking.

So honestly? I think he'd do it, yeah, just to laugh at Shinichiro (playfully of course, he has no ill intent). It also helps to sort girls who'd go to other (more attractive or not) men given the chance. Shinichiro would do bad with casual relationships, he wants to give all of his heart to the person he loves, he doesn't want one that can end. Wakasa rather have Shinichiro cry because 'it's unfair!! a girl was finally interested in me, why did you have to steal her heart?!!' than get his heart broken because he thought they had something only for her to leave once she found someone else.

(Alternatively, Shinichiro simply whining that if Wakasa wasn't there, he'd have a girlfriend by now because they wouldn't just all focus on Wakasa - whether he did anything for them to focus on him or not)

It robs Shinichiro from possible relationships, but it's more of a test from Wakasa than a mean joke. Because Shinichiro is his dear friend and he deserves the best. He gets hurt easily, and one of Wakasa's job - as a friend and as one of Black Dragon member - is to protect him to the best of his capacities. Physical and emotional wounds both

Also it's funny to see Shinichiro's reactions to it.

And it's not like he does something everytime - people look at him more than they look at Shinichiro whether he intends for it or not! He's not stopping it, though

I may have gotten too serious about a fandom joke, oopsies

[trendywaifus]

↳ you know you’re better than this.

featuring — anya x gn! reader (mouthwashing)

no, i don’t write for mouthwashing, there’s just not any anya content.

cw: dark themes, mentions of sexual abuse, abuse, mentions of pregnancy, vomiting, blood, implications of suicide, character deaths, controlling behavior, triggering themes, angst, panic attack, reader is fresh out of medical school, barely hurt and comfort

6 weeks before the crash.

“ guess who~? “

you croon, playfully hovering your hands over the onyx haired woman’s eyes as you snuck up behind her in the med room. anya was standing in front of the sink, quietly washing her hands. a soft giggle rolls off her smiling lips, body language relaxed,

“ hmm, daisuke?”

you snicker, “ i didn’t know i was a silly boy.”

anya hums thoughtfully while the faucet still runs and her hands soaking wet. “ captain? “

“ yes it is i, the big softie blond with curls! “ you proclaimed, goofily deepening your voice to make the voice of the captain, curly. if curly was here, he definitely would of made fun of your half-baked impression of him. anya lets out a bubbly laugh that makes the corner of your lips curl upwards even more. you fight the urge to hug her from behind and squeeze her silly from how wondrous she is. to think you get to be on a space trip with the woman you love and admire deeply makes you wanna float through the endlessly sea of stars and wonder.

“ now that I guessed you right, can i finish washing my hands and greet my lover properly? “ anya asks in a jovial tone.

“ mhmm~ “ you removed your hands away from her eyes and backed off so she can finish washing her hands. it takes a few moments for anya to finish. she turns the faucet off, grabs a paper towel from the dispenser, and wipes her hands off. after throwing the crumbled paper towel in the small bin, she turns around to finally face you. despite her hues resembling a gloomy grey, they brighten as they drink you in. anya immediately seeks for you, wrapping her arms around your frame and gently brushes up against you. you gladly reciprocate the loving gesture, running a delicate up her back and let it rest on her upper back.

“ so, how’s evaluations going three months in? “ you asked, pressing a quick kiss to her brow, “ has the others evaluations been okay? no crazy confessions yet right? “ you inquired with a teasing voice. anya is far experienced in psychology than you are so you leave the evaluations to her. and because anya’s more outgoing and hands-on, you felt like anya’s more capable of taking on medic role. you were luckily squeezed on this ship as a last minute intern similar to daisuke for the experience. six people on a four-man ship is so far quite the experience. you try not to get in the way of the others and besides anya, you mostly interact with curly and daisuke.

anya pauses, recalling her memories from the monthly evaluations.

“ hm. .—oh! daisuke. .a very bright and funny boy that really puts himself out there. he inspires me to be more optimistic. ugh, he’s also disgustingly lucky when it comes to those board games we play. “ her lips ball up in a cute pout, you laugh, “

“ stop saying he’s lucky, anya. you’re just being a sore loser. just accept that he’s better than you at board games! “

anya playfully rolls her eyes, “ oh hush. don’t tell me you’re on his side. “

you smirked, “ i’m on your side, beautiful—buttt i’m still gonna hand you the truth. lovingly. “

anya tells you about the other three evaluations, curly, swansea, and jimmy. her voice is light-hearted when she talks about curly. she describes him as being kind but a bit reserved. he never talks much about himself. everyone has their own story and perhaps even some like him chooses to not tell his as it’s locked away behind the fleshy walls of his bleeding heart. when anya got to swansea, her tone is the same but it’s dampens a bit; melancholic. she describes the crude mechanic as a man who’s been through a lot in life and still lives on despite his struggles. despite how rough he acts, there’s something about him that makes you feel sorry for him. there’s a sort of loneliness that clings to him like the fresh scent of dry balls after drying your clothes in a dryer. however, you can tell that daisuke’s light is smearing onto the much older man’s demeanor. he’s a little more livelier, although very rough on the edges—swansea expresses his care for daisuke in a tough love kinda way.

when anya finally gets to the gruff brunette man, the atmosphere shifts. her words holds a certain weight to them that makes you feel slightly uncomfortable. her voice is meek and reluctant as she talks about his recent evaluation. you pick up on anya’s careful wording and brief pauses during it. she rests her cheek against your shoulder, holding you visibly tighter as if she’s trying to ground herself through you. anya says that he doesn’t really take his evaluation seriously and makes particularly sarcastic comments at her. great. you don’t like jimmy because there’s something about him that rubs you the wrong way. was it that permanent mean look on his face? that judgmental look in his hooded, brown eyes whenever he passes by you in the hallways? what could have you possibly done to him to make him look at you like that? you don’t really talk to him and care more for curly. he is the leader and main pilot after all.

“ . .if he’s making you uncomfortable, i can do his evaluations for you. psychological evaluations require a one on one session and i can do it while you’re outside of the door.” you mutter, rubbing loose circles into anya’s back.

your lover stays silent for a moment. “ . . .no, i can handle it. but, you standing behind the door instead puts me a little more at ease though, haha. “

“ of course. anya, look at me. “ and she does, pulling her head away to peer at you with those pretty, upturned eyes of hers. a tender palm cups her cheek. anya’s skin feels warm and soft to the touch. “ if anything happens, you’ll tell me right? i may only be the intern but i will absolutely raise hell for you. “

anya smiles at you warmly at you, grayish eyes twinkling with endearment. she leans in and kisses your lips. “ i prefer that you not to because i’d hate for you to get booted into space by the crew. “ she remarks jokingly in between brief kisses.

“ hmm. “ you bring your lips to the bridge of her nose, under the tender flesh of her eye, everywhere until she’s a smiling mess. “ we’ll have to see about that. “

5 weeks before the crash.

restless, you exhale as you blankly stare at the white ceiling. due to anya’s head laying on your chest and her body nuzzled against your side, you can hardly change positions or get up, really. you don’t want to wake her up either.

“ can’t sleep? “ she whispers out gently, her hand that was intertwined with yours, lightly squeezed.

“ mmm, not really. did i wake you up with my defeated sighs, anya? “

“ . . kinda. but i’m use to this by now since this is a habit you like to do when you can’t sleep, (name).”you can hear the fond smile in her voice. after two years of dating, anya’s able to read and soak up your habits. she’s so attentive to your mannerisms, knows when you’re apprehensive by the twitching of your fingers and eyes. she knows when you’re happy, sad—it’s quite ridiculous how could someone so knowledgeable like her is struggling to get accepted to med school several times while it only took you once to get in. you’re not a registered nurse prior to getting into med school or anything like that. yes, you worked really hard—but lets admit it; you were just simply lucky to get in. lucky and currently hundred thousand dollars in debt after finishing.

“ i’ll let you sleep. i think i will just sneak into med bay to finish reading the social animal. i wanna be good at psychology as my awesome, future wife is.” you asked, pressing a chaste kiss on her temple.

anya laughs sleepily, “ oh, stop it. you’re not going to fall asleep in there, are you? “

“ of course not! i’ll come back to you once i’m feeling tired. but, if you miss me or have a nightmare, you know where to find me~ “

she removes her head off your chest and breaks away from you with a soft pout. “ i suppose so. “

you get up from the bed and dipped down to kiss the tip of her pretty roman nose. “ buh bye for now, beautiful. ” you coo, adjusting the blanket back over her body.

“ see you, hun. “

you slip on your slippers and walked out of your shared cabin. besides the sound of the low humming noise of the ship, silence fills the void of the still atmosphere. it’s surprisingly chilly as you exit the sleeping quarters and walk through the narrow-like hallways to medical. your footsteps softly bounces throughout the metal walls and your distorted shadow follows behinds you. there’s a churning feeling in your gut as you walk and walk. was it really okay to skip off to medical at the middle of “night” just to read? wouldn’t it have suffice to simply stay and talk to anya until you were able to fall asleep?

your eye twitch and your fingers curl ever so slightly.

should you just go back to her?

“ hey, you’re still “up.”

a rough voice calls out, ripping you away from your thoughts. you stop walking. your eyes wander over to the source and a shiver runs down your spine. jimmy, still in his jumpsuit, stands by the hallway leading to the cockpit. there’s a sense of uneasiness in the air as his quiet gaze lingers on you, waiting for your response.

“ yeah, can’t sleep. “ you say in a deadpan voice, “ what about you? “

jimmy runs his fingers through his tousled chocolate locks before shrugging. “ same as you. but i’m just taking a aimless stroll. where you headin’ to? “

none of your business.

“ medical. “

there’s something in his eyes that visibly changes; a taunting glint that has you side-eyeing him. a corner of his thin lips curl into a subtle, smug smirk.

“ you’re a little ways to go, dr. intern. “

you roll your eyes and start walking pass him, “ i know. at least i know where to go, mr. co pilot. “

jimmy clicks his tongue behind you, muttering something under his breath before his footsteps become distant in your ears. you turn your head, throwing a quick glance over your shoulder. you see his tall silhouette walking down the direction towards the sleeping quarters. “ smug fuck, i hope you sleep like shit tonight. “ you murmur, trying your best to ignore the sinking feeling in your tummy.

with a tired sigh, you slumped in the chair, turning one of many pages you gone through. the ticking clock in the background occasionally hits your ears as your fingers lazily drum against the pristine white surface of the desk. your droopy (e/c) eyes skim across a quote that leaves the remainder of your conscious mind wondering.

reason and emotion are not separate and opposed. reason is nestled upon emotion and dependent upon it. emotion assigns value to things, and reason can only make choices on the basis of those valuations. the human mind can be pragmatic because deep down it is romantic.

“is it wrong to use only reasoning to make a decision devoid of emotion . .? or is it actually wrong to let your emotions influence your decisions and reasoning? ” you sleepily muse to yourself.

oh, being human is so complicated.

your head perk up at the medbay door sliding open. surprise is written all over your face once you see a seemingly shaken up anya walking inside. her arms are tucked to her chest, hands clutching her elbows.“ anya? it’s only been. .two hours? you had a nightmare already? “ you asked worriedly, standing up from the desk to make your way over to her.

“ i. .y-yes, it was t-terrible. .” anya whispers in a quivering voice. her head is down, avoiding eye contact. you try to grasp her elbow and lure her into your arms but she violently flinches from your touch.

pulling away quickly, your face contorts into a look of worry. “ baby? “

teary-eyed, anya quickly lifts up her head, mustering a shaky smile. “ oh dear, i-i’m sorry. i-i’m just still quite shaken up from the nightmare, h-haha. i need a minute or so to recoup myself. can i stay here with you? “ anya sometimes get nightmares but it was only due to stress. she never had a nightmare that got her like this.

“ . .of course. you don’t even have to ask. here, you can sit on one of those beds. “ carefully, you ghost your hand over the small of her back as you guide her to a bed. she quietly sits down with a soft sniffle and you follow suit. your heart squeezes at the sound of her soft hiccups and the sight of her head down. you can hardly see her face due to her saber strands hanging down. “ can. .is it safe for me to have my arm around you? “

she meekly bobs her head and you delicately curl an arm around her, taking note of her body momentarily stiffening up before gradually relaxing. “ do you want to talk about your nightmare? “

it takes her a moment to reply. “ . . no. i don’t really remember much of it now anyways. “

you frown, leaving it at that despite wanting to push for more. anya always remember her nightmares. there’s something that’s eating away at your gut and it’s making you anxious. you gnaw at your lip and your eyes twitch. you should be focusing on her. whatever you’re feeling right now is the result of your overthinking. you should trust her. it was just a rare, horrible nightmare that gotten her like this.

things can happen unexpectedly without an explanation.

perhaps you shouldn’t push for an answer and leave it alone?

1 week before the crash.

“ hah! i win! in your face! “ daisuke laughs in triumphant, placing his pink piece over on the next move that solidifies his victory. anya groans loudly next to you, crossing her arms and pouts like a kid who gotten their toy taken away. “ this is unbelievable! i almost had it! “

you laughed, “ better luck next time, anya. it seems like the kid has a brighter future than you when it comes to board games! “

ever since that night, anya’s been uncharacteristically a little distant and jumpy. she’d always seek for your touch. but now, she seems reluctant to touch you first. whenever you try to show anya any kind of affection, it takes her a moment to reciprocate. you can’t really surprise her now or she’ll get visibly startled. anya has trouble sleeping and wakes up from the any sound or movement so you have to be still. for the past four weeks, you tried to ask her about her abnormal behavior, and she’d tell you vague reasons like, “ i just haven’t been feeling well. “ or “ that nightmare got to me more than i thought, i’m sorry. “

you’re worried about her—even her smiles are dampened with a sliver of sadness behind them. you really want to help but you don’t know how. it feels like she’s slowly putting a wall between you, her, and her true feelings. at least right now she’s like her old self again. you’re glad.

“ hey guys. having fun in here, huh? “ curly and jimmy walks inside the lounge. the blond waves at the three of you with a welcoming smile while jimmy awkwardly stood behind him.

“ yeah! i was able to beat anya this time! isn’t that right, anya? “

“ mhm, but as usual, it was luck. “ anya says softly, her voice lacking the enthusiasm as it did before. she tucks her arms into her chest. you flash her a look of concern. there it is again, the churning feeling in your belly. why did her mood sour like that? was it because of curly and jimmy’s arrival? your eyes travel back to the two men, quietly observing them. curly ruffles daisuke’s hair as he stood behind the couch daisuke is sitting on. he’s completely focused on talking to daisuke. your gaze transition over to jimmy and his eyes meet with yours.

that same glint he had in his eyes a few weeks ago, has you feeling more than uneasy. then, your mind suddenly flashes back to the subtle smirk he had and him walking back to the direction of the sleeping quarters. not too long after him going over there and you lounging in medbay, anya joins you, trembling and barely wanting you to touch her. you thought about her saying it was a bad nightmare and didn’t remember enough to tell you the details of it. like what you thought about before, anya always remembers her nightmares and only gets them due to stress.

the horrible realization starts to sink in and your heart drops to the very pits of your stomach. it drowns in a sea of dread.

oh god, did he go to her while you were. . .?

you feel sick. why did you ignore that gut feeling in your stomach during your walk to medbay back then? why didn’t you stay with anya? why did you just figure this out now?

you stand up unexpectedly, startling everyone.

“ (name)? what’s the matter? “ anya asks with clear worry. throat dry, you gathered up the strength to cast her a assuring smile that doesn’t reach your eyes in which she notices right away.

“ i. .i need to go to the restroom. i’ll be back everyone. . “

you quickly slide the bathroom door behind you. unable to hold your own weight anymore, you fall to your knees. there’s a suffocating feeling in your chest that’s causing your breathing to become uneven. your mind races back to the evaluations and how uncomfortable anya looked every time she had to do jimmy’s. yes, you stood behind the door to provide her some “security” in the recent weekly evaluations, but god, you actually let her be in the same room alone with this man? her assaulter? you did basically nothing but blindly trusted her words and ignored your intuition.

maybe anya didn’t want to tell you because she knew that you’d make a big uproar out of it, thus making the situation possibly even worse?

or maybe she was afraid you’d look at her differently?

. . .or maybe jim threatened her to not tell the crew?

t r u s t

she kept this in all this time and gave these inconsistent reasons that you knew was out of character for her to make up. . and yet. .you ignored the obvious signals and trusted her anyway. all you had to do was listen to your gut feeling and sit down with her to talk. all you had to say was that you were there for her and you’ll listen to anything she has to say if she wants to talk. you’d do anything for her—anything. even if it meant the cost of your internship which matters practically nothing to you. it’s not like the company was worth shit anyways. what fucking company doesn’t implement locks on doors in rooms where their own employees sleep in? what company just allows someone like him in?

tears bubble in your eyes as you grit your teeth, seething in frustration. you bite down on your bottom until the thin layer skin easily rips and starts to bleed. you bawl your hands into tight fists, nails dig into your palm until moon crescents dig into the flesh. you’re so horrible.

you feel so sick.

this is what she must of felt but much much worse.

you can’t even imagine how she had to process what happened all alone in the dark and walk through the long corridors in dead silence just to get to medbay, to you. you can’t imagine how it feels to hide something so traumatic from everyone while gathering up your broken shards of identity in silence. you don’t blame her—you can never blame her from hiding what happened between her and jimmy. you can only blame yourself for being ignorant and not fully realizing how dangerous he truly is.

your stomach turns upside down and you feel the sudden need to vomit. you scrambled over to the toilet and puke your guts out. series of fat tears roll down your cheeks.

“ ugh. .” you coughed hoarsely, hunched over.

you feel sick. you feel sick. you feel sick. you feel sick. you feel sick—

a few firm knocks on the bathroom door made you freeze.

anya’s concerned voice calls out behind the bathroom door. “ (name), are you alright? are you feeling well? “

you couldn’t even respond properly without hacking which gave yourself away immediately. alerted by your excessive coughing, she successfully slides the door open and rushes inside to your aid.

you never locked the door behind you, did you?

“ i’m here, (name). please, let it all out. “ anya rubs your back soothingly, not bothered by the drool and vomit spilling from your lips. you feel embarrassed under the worried, gentle gaze of anya. she whispers comforting words as you finishing vomiting. she grabs some paper towels and silently offers to wipe your face. you shake your head and gingerly take the towels from her hands and do it yourself.

anya opens her mouth to speak but you interrupt her.

“ it’s funny, “ you half laughed and sobbed, “ how you were able to come in so quickly just as i realized the door wasn’t locked. “

anya’s eyes widen with shock and looks as if she was about to burst into tears.

1 month after the crash.

“ anya, sweetheart? “ you gently call out to her before resting a hand on anya’s shoulder as stood by the sink, soaking curly’s bandages with soap and water. the fresh bandages are slowly starting to run out because of curly’s nonstop bleeding. you and anya both agreed to clean and reuse the bandages after one use to maintain the supply.

she still slightly jumps and turns her head around with a soft smile. “a-ah! s-sorry, (name). what’s wrong? “

“ let me clean the bandages and give captain his meds. you’ve been standing there for the past forty minutes. sit out in the lounge, okay? after watching you the first few times, i know what to do. “

a look of uncertainty dwells on her face as she ponders over your words. gingerly, you place a hand over her stomach. “ please, anya? i’ve seen how uncomfortable you look when you do this for him, you don’t have to hide it from me because i’m your lover. we’ve talked about this. i’ll do anything i can to shoulder your burden and make sure that you’re not pushing your body. “

anya’s grey hues flicker with appreciation and a twinge of guilt. “ okay, i’ll go sit down. if you need me, please holler out. i-i hate to make you do this after—“

“ anya. “ you interrupt her, reaching out to cradle her pale cheeks. they feel warm under your palms. your gaze pools into her own. “ anything. “ you whisper, resting your forehead against hers. anya’s lips pursue in a thin line. you know she wants to object but she swallows her words without anything to wash it down with, leaving behind a bitter taste. you lift your chin to press a lingering kiss to anya’s forehead.

tentatively, anya walks out of the medical, leaving you and a shell of a man in the room alone. a deep sigh runs past your lips and you go over to the half–foamed up desk to quietly grab a bottle of pain meds. “ captain. “ you mutter, walking over to the bed where he permanently lays. what a pitiful sight to witness. curly resembles a meat bag, his limbs left horribly mutated and amputated, his once tan skin is now all gone and long burned off. he’s stripped from his protection and only his vulnerable muscles are exposed. his only eye, wide and blue, stares up at you. you stare back blankly. through a singular sea of blue, you see a mass of fear, pain, and most of all, regret.

“ i don’t hate you, captain, “ you pop the bottle open. “ i’m sure anya doesn’t either. well, anya wouldn’t bring herself to hate you even if she wanted to anyways. “

he doesn’t respond but his permanent wide–eyed gaze continues to stare you down.

“ i’ll give you 5mg of oxycodone before i do your bandages. i’ll give you your second dose afterwards.”

you shake out two pills from the bottle. “ . . .all of this isn’t really your fault. misguided karma can be cruel. however, “ you slowly opened his jaw, the slimy sound of his muscles moving against each other makes you cringe. you see why anya can get more nauseated off of this. “ misplaced trust in a bitter person who’s undeserving of trust in the first place is what gets someone like you in a position like this. “

you hold his jaw, his exposed, irritated muscles twitch erratically against your protective layer of skin. your stomach swirls with a sinking feeling. curly starts to breath heavily, his pupil dilates. you hold one pill between your index finger and thumb. hot tears prickle at the corner of your twitching eyes as a shaky grin stretches across your face, and a bead of sweat rolls down your brow. you feel sick to the utter depths of your stomach.

“ don’t struggle , yeah? “

this wasn’t your worst moment right , curly?

0 days before the crash.

“ curly, fuck, where did he walk away to? “ you stopped curly in the middle corridors, pulling him back by his broad shoulder with a firm hand. curly, who’s face is full of panic and confusion, frantically responds back. “ i-i don’t know but i’m going to go find him to try and talk—“

“ i-i’m sorry, talk? this goes beyond talking at this fucking point! that fucking dog assaulted anya and she’s pregnant! “ you spat, heart full of frustration, “ do you think talking to her assaulter is going to fix shit? do you think doing the bare minimum is going to take back what she went through?! “

he runs a trembling hand through his blond curls. “ i-i understand but—fuck, let me just try—and—and, “

your hand drops to your side and you send him a look of utter disappointment. “ un—fucking—believable. how many times did anya tell you about jimmy? did you know about his shitty behavior even before she got pregnant? assaulted? she doesn’t want to tell me the answer so i’m fucking asking you! “

he stays slient, the guilty expression dawning on his face says it all.

“ . .what a great leader you are, captain. “ you growled, “ allowing that shitty friend of yours to ride this ship and you do barely nothing until the situation blows up in your face. this is what happens when you let your personal emotions dilute your judgment and reason as a leader. this is the outcome. the crew is my responsibility, my ass. if i had it my way, i would of shoved his ass in the cryo pod the second i’ve found out. but alas, i’m not the fucking leader but a damn intern. i held it allll in for a week for this shit? just imagine how anya felt to endure the awful trauma longer than that only for you, the captain, the only person with power, to handle it so horribly. fool.”you turn your heels and stomping back to medical for anya.

4 months after the crash.

“ daisuke. . kiddo, “ you gently call out to him as you find him somberly laying on his back next to the area leading to the cargo. his forearm rests over his eyes.

“ you okay? “

“ no, not really. .it’s just. .i wonder what my mother thinks right now. .she’s probably thinking i’m finally putting my feet into the water, finally learning and figuring out what i should to do in life during this internship. .meanwhile i’m on my back getting wasted off of. .mouthwash. ”

you sit down next to him. you thought about what to say for a prolonged moment before asking him,

“ before all of this, did you enjoy the internship? “

“ i. . .i did. .i was having fun . .with swansea, anya, you, a-and . . “

daisuke lets out a soft sniffle, you just smile solemnly.

“ don’t cry, sunshine. as long as you enjoyed yourself, that’s all that matters. even in the predicament we’re in now. .let’s have hope. once all of this is over, your mother will be proud that you got through this internship and you should tell her allll about what you did and learned with the ol’ man swansea. that man is a hot mess but i know he enjoys you as his intern.”

“ . . .really? “ he meekly asks, peeking at you from under his forearm with teary eyes. god, daisuke looks like a sad puppy.

“ of course, kiddo. “ you force out a happy laugh to appease him. you hate to lie to him but as long as jimmy is attempting to play captain, the situation will continue to spiral down into the abyss. you know with absolute certainty that jimmy was the one who caused the ship to crash. the fact that man pinned the blame on his close friend, who was trying to see good in him, for crashing the ship is beyond disgusting. judging from curly’s recent evaluation from anya before the crash, he did seem a little melancholic. but, for him to drastically make a reckless decision to sabotage the ship and everyone in it? he wouldn’t do that even if it was on his mind. jimmy on the other hand. .

“ oh. .it seems like you beat me to him. is he alright?”anya’s relieved voice rings in your ears. you draw your attention over to your partner who’s walking down the corridor towards you and daisuke. she uncrosses her arms that was once tucked to her chest and you raise a brow.

“ yeah, just a little sad but i was talking to him. how’d you know he was here? “

her gaze averts to the ground and you jump up, anger bubbles in your chest. “ jimmy, wasn’t it? what did he do? he didn’t hurt or yell at you or anything, did he? “

you pace over to her and rest your hands on her shoulders. “ no, no—seriously, i’m okay. . he sent me here to check on daisuke while he took care of some things. i was just surprised you were here. “ it had to be more then that.

sighing heavily, you turn back to daisuke who was now attempting to get back on his feet. “ daisuke, be careful. .has swansea been making you drink that mouthwash stuff again with him? “ you questioned skeptically, walking over to him to assist him back on his feet. wobbling, the brunette boy softly groans as you let him rest his arm loosely around your shoulders for support.

“. .no. .yeah. . i. .may. .kinda, totally have went overboard with it this time. b-but i gave it to jimmy because i didn’t wanna mess with it anymore. “

aggravated, you smack your teeth, “ so you’re saying that he saw you like that and didn’t even bother to help you up himself and sends anya down here instead? i’m so sick of his shit! some fuckin’ wannabe captain he is! you could of threw up and choked on your own damn vomit! that careless fucker knew that! “

“ you’re starting to sound like swansea. “ daisuke mutters through his drunken haze.

anya speaks up in a soft voice that’s mean to calm you. “ (name), you have to calm down. i understand that you’re upset. .but we need to rest daisuke down somewhere in the lounge. “

your eye twitch and your lips purse. she was right. plus, you don’t want daisuke to hear all of this while he’s struggling with his own inner conflicts. even the effects of the dire situation is dawning down on him and taking a toll on his mental health.

but fuck, you’re tired of being quiet.

d o s o m e t h i n g

? ? ¿ ! months before the ????

you can’t sleep. a soft sigh leaves your lips. anya’s body lightly stirs besides you. you don’t want to leave her but it’d be right to check up on curly to see if he needs his meds. there’s no time clock but curly’s groaning and restlessness indicates you that it’s time for his painkillers. if he is in pain, you’ll just give him his meds and come back to anya. it’s been a straight shot to the medical room ever since the crash. the foam has completely fucked up the sleeping quarters. . maybe it’s for the better or worse now. everyone is bunched together in the lounge room with extra sleeping beds from the medical. luckily, there hasn’t been any problems amongst the crew and it’s easier to keep in eye on jimmy.

“ anya, “ you whispered out to her. she lays on her left side, facing you. pieces of her shaggy hair prettily hovers over her tired eyes as they fluttered open. “ yeah? “ she responds back, you send her a small smile, reaching out to brush the strands away from her face.

“ i’m going to go check up on captain in the medical. i’ll. .be back, okay? if this dumb thing goes off, “ you gesture to the broken robot standing an inch away from you and anya’s sleeping bags. thankfully it’s able to go off, albeit broken thanks to jimmy. originally, anya suggested the idea and you couldn’t agree more with it.

“ i’ll be running to you so fast like how i did after i found out that passed my final exams. “ you whispered playfully.

recalling the joyful memory, a soft giggle leaves anya’s lips. she remembered you were so anxious and restless over the final exams that she kept having to pinch you and make you run with her to get your mind off of things. once you found out that you passed med school, you ran so fast to anya while she was waiting outside of the campus for you and nearly ran her over. she nods with a beautiful smile that you missed so much. anya was always a carefree woman who was willing to go through hardships with a cool–mind and solutions. but, after this overhaul trip going downhill and the terrible shit that’s happened and is currently happening—the light in her eyes is duller. it mirrors her reserved and almost timid-like behavior now.

that’s not who anya is—that’s not her and that’s not who she should by the damages of a terrible, insecure man who refuses to swallow down his own ever-growing problems like a hard pill and take responsibility for his self-sabotaging actions. you bet he’d choke on himself and self-destruct if he ever tried swallowing. all he ever does is vomit and project himself onto others.

“ okay. we can also clean his bandages after we’ve rested. “ anya suggests.

you shake your head, ghosting a hand over her belly. the bump has slowly been getting bigger but isn’t very noticeable to others. “ there’s no we, just me. the last time you got nauseated, you asked jimmy to give curly his meds while i was busy with daisuke and. .he. .” you trailed off and sighed with frustration. you still can’t get over anya telling you the truth about jimmy getting frustrated at her for asking him to give curly his meds because of her nausea.

absolutely horrible.

before anya can say anything, you give her a quick kiss on the forehead.

“ i’ll be back this time. “

you got up carefully to not alert the broken robot and paced towards medical. as you did, you glanced around the lounge to see who’s in their respective sleeping bags.

daisuke is laid out asleep.

swansea has been sleeping by the utility and now you know why he was does. you don’t have any objections to it. it’s only fair for the sunshine to be preserved.

jimmy is no where to be found. cockpit, maybe?

as you near the medical, alarming sounds of struggling and curly’s groans made your heart drop. frantically, you sprinted towards the door and slammed it open.

s e c o n d c h a n c e

s e c o n d c h a n c e

“ wh-what the fuck are you doing, jimmy?! g-get off of him! “ her

you ran over to the self-proclaimed captain who was hunching over the defenseless curly, shoving pills into his mouth and down his throat while beating at his stomach. with all of your strength, you shoved jimmy backwards, pulling him away from curly’s mutilated body, who helplessly laid there in the bloodied medical bed, crying and groaning in pain.

“ are you out of your fucking mind, you crazy fuck?!”you screamed at him while he has this mixed, horrid look of panic and frustration on his unshaven face. the pill bottle clutched in his hand made a loud rattling noise as he drops them on the tile floor and it rolls next to you.

“ i-i— h-he was. .m-making too much n-n—oomph! “

thanks to your adrenaline, you shoved him—hard, causing him to stumble back against the desk. pill bottles tumble and crash onto the floor.

hurried footsteps approach the medical from the loud crashes and yelling.

“ so your fucking solution was to beat up that poor man who can’t even goddamn defend himself now? let me fucking remind you since you’re too busy trying to play captain and can’t take responsibility! that man is laying there, the way he is now, because of—ugh! “

in a burst fit of blind rage, he returns the favor and presses his heavy palms against your chest, harshly shoving you backwards. you try to maintain your balance, but your foot accidentally steps on one of the pill bottles, and you fall backwards onto the solid floor, hitting your head. hard.

crack!

you almost instantly black out. not before hearing a loud gasp and anya’s frantic shouting.

“ (name)! j-jimmy. . . at . .did. . .u do?! “

¿!!! ?????????

just me and you vs the world, anya.

“ seriously? this show is so horrible, anya! even my dad who has terrible taste in tv shows, can’t watch this! “ you groaned exaggeratedly, sinking your cheek into your palm, slouching on the elbow of the couch. anya shrugs with a smug smile, placing the tv remote down on the coffee table.

“ well that’s tooo bad, hun. i need to binge this show to clear my mind out completely. all i need is my go-to-combo i usually get from wendy’s. “

you roll your eyes, “ it could of been at least mcdonald’s or something. but. .wendy’s? “

“ they have the best frosties! don’t act you dislike it because they messed up your order once. “ she giggles, leaning over to playfully hit at your ankle.

the show starts and you can barely stomach it. you don’t understand how she zeros out her mind from watching this stuff. it’s so cheesy and bad.

you peer over at anya and just as expected, she’s watching it like she’s into it. anya’s sitting up against the couch, legs crossed while she’s wearing a oversized t-shirt and pajamas. her heap of black shaggy hair that reaches just below her shoulders, was beautifully messy. usually at night, she doesn’t really bother with it. her fair skin shines pretty under the tv light. her pretty lashes fluttering and downturned eyes glistening with interest as she watch the corny reality tv show—god, she’s so breathtaking.

“ so, anya. “ you speak up as soon as the tv cuts to commercials. her undivided attention draws over to you and you cast her a goofy, suggestive smile.

“ while this commercial runs, wanna makeout? “

she blinks at you several times as if to process your question and bursts out laughing.

“ ewwww! “

“ ewwww? what the hell, baby! c’meree. “ you get off the elbow of the couch to playfully grab and pull at the laughing anya’s arm to pull her closer.

“ we’re not some bored teenager couple, you know! “

you successfully pull her into you, wrapping your arms around her body. “ feels like we are when i’m with youu~ “ you coo, puckering your lips at her with teasing intent.

anya blocks your lips with her palm and you immediately lick at it. she gasps and retracts her hand away, allowing you the opportunity to topple her over and kiss all over her pretty face and pouty lips.

“ hehe, (name)! “

once you’re done with your barrage, you bury your face into her neck.

“ marry me once me and you become doctors, anya~ ” you croon, melting into her body.

there’s a momentary pause before her smiling voice responds to you, full of adoration,

“ of course. i wouldn’t have it any other way, (name).”

??? ??¿ is it finally over ??¿!

your eyes peel open, a surge of sharp pain and confusion shoots through your body like a needle. but, once your gaze immediately locks onto the woman you love above you, your heart calms a little. she doesn’t notice that you’re now awake and stares off into somewhere with brooding eyes.

“ a-anya? “

anya’s eyes widen and she snaps her gaze down at you in surprise as your head is currently laid on her lap. tears swell in the corner of her reddened eyes.

“ y-you’re awake again! i-i thought you were finally. .”

despite not being able to move your body from the waist under and through the pain pounding in your head, you smile weakly at her.

“ f-finally what? i-i told you i’ll come back to you. although. . .“ your eyes search the dim setting around you. it’s blurred and bright. it seems like you and anya are in the medical? didn’t you come back from medical after checking up on curly?

c o n f u s i o n

“ why aren’t we in bed? we’re in medical right now. . “

anya’s lips trembles as she struggles to not cry.

“ we’ve decided to rest in here and talk like we’re a bored teenage couple. “

you let out a weak laugh. “ r-really? my br-brain is all over the place right now. everything is starting to feel and look fuzzy. “

your eyes starts to dilate and unfocus but they never leave anya. she says nothing, and quietly caresses your cheek.

your skin has become more discolored while you were unconscious.

how many hours?

how many hours has it been since she locked herself with you and captain? and how many times has her thoughts endlessly ponder and ponder over jimmy’s words he once said to her months back?

t a k e c a r e o f i t

“ a-anya. .? “

anya forces out a smile. her quivering fingers brush away the sweaty hair sticking to your forehead.

my hands are s h a k i n g.

“ . .y-yes? “ anya can barely contain the heartbreak in her voice.

“ w-we’ll take of it together. “ you slurred, “ o-once i get my l-license, i’ll support us and you don’t need to w-worry about a thing. o-once the baby is born, i’ll take care of them while you st-study to get into medical school again. i-i’ll. .even help you. .too. i st-still have my. .notes. “

dark red liquid seeps down your nose. she sees the light becoming dull in your dilated (e/c) hues that she adored so much.

the external bleeding and swelling in your head is pulling you under.

a quiet sob slips from her throat and she gently brings your head up to her chest. her body shudders as she weeps.

there’s a few broken whimpers that sounds far too strangled to be hers or yours.

“ . . d-don’t cry, an. .ya, i. .i’m just g-gonna sleep. y. .you holding. .me like this. .makes me feel at ease. .i. .can finally sleep. .without. .leaving. .ou. .”

your eyes vanish behind discolored eyelids and your head slack against her.

and there’s a gaping hole akin to a black hole that swallows everything that bounded her down, her dreams, her hopes, her love, her fear, her emotions.

what’s left is reason—a reason to the best decision that anya alone can finally act.

with a strangely calm mind and red-rimmed solemn grey eyes, she glances up at the few bottles of pills now left on the desk.

you know you’re better than this.

m a k e n o m i s t a k e , t h i s i s n ‘ t m y w o r s t m o m e n t.

far from it. this is the best decision i’ll ever make.

i’ll take care of it.

everything’s black—but you hear banging, voices, bottles rattling, pained whimpering and strangled noises that sounds similar to a heartbroken man crying.

you slip back into momentary consciousness. through blurred vision, you see a slumped figure above you. you can’t identify who it is but red smears leaves a bit of a hard contrast to your unfocused eyes. without thinking, your feeble hand reach out and you’re only able to make contact with their chin, just with the tips of your fingers.

from one small touch, you can tell the skin long since lost its warmth and now is cold to the touch.

an unknown sorrow strikes your chest and you finally pass with a heart full of confusion, leaving it in a headlock.

[lanabuckybarnes]

| Lady Blue |

Falling in love with your best friend wasn't something you ever anticipated, you had a role to fulfil and your hand was sold. Yet your heart longed for him.

✧Pairing✧ Knight!Steve Rogers x Princess!Reader (Fem)

✧Warnings✧ Fluff, A Little Angst, Talks of Arranged marriage, John Walker (ew), Name Calling, like the teeniest bit of violence, Hurt, Brief mention of injury, Sweet ending

✧Word Count✧ 2.1k

✧Author Note ✧ I WROTE SOMETHING THAT ISNT SMUT!! — happy birthday Stevie Rogers 🥳

You don’t know when it happened, when that little crush became something more, when the hugs became intimate and the kisses were on the lips rather than on the cheeks.

Steve Rogers, your best friend. You’d been born beds apart, your mother a queen and her best friend a noblewoman. You weren’t sure if they planned it or it was fate but they both ended up with child and gave birth almost exactly on the same day.

Steve was headstrong, and a leader. He always made sure you were safe and protected, it was cute how doting he was because ‘he was older’. You were quick to comment how it was only by a few hours.

You were inseparable as kids, spending most of your time in the fields of blue flowers that decorated the walk to the large castle. It’s how you earned the name, Lady Blue - a flower crown of blue atop your head always.

Your infatuation grew for him as you aged into a teen, you weren’t around each other as much because of duties taking up most of your time but you remembered something about absence making the heart grow fonder and you could attest to that.

Steve was away most of the time on the other end of the city, training in the ring to become a knight, his dream. You were stuck in the palace, studying history and languages to be a great queen although you spent much of your time staring out of the window and imagining you and Steve doing the same things you did as kids. Living.

You lied.

You remember exactly when it happened.

Steve's graduation, he finally wore his purple cloak and had his royal etched sword around his hip. Drinks flowed left and right, the night filled with laughter and singing, all muffled behind the thick glass doors leading out to the courtyard where you and Steve sat watching the birds bathe in the fountain.

“How was it?” You asked, both hands soothing over his larger, calloused one, running over each scar and healing wound he donned.

He breathed out slowly, as though you were one of the small birds that he had to tiptoe around so he didn’t scare them off. He knew that you would never be scared of him but he couldn’t shake that feeling, you were so dainty beside him. To think that once upon a time you were a head taller than him.

“It was fine, made some friends” he nodded off to a pair of iron-clad men clinging to each other singing an old folk tune. “Sam and Bucky, they’re wild but they are good guys.”

The air around you thickened if it were possible, something going unsaid between you two, a rope pulled taut that threatened to snap. Steve’s eyes studied you, thoroughly enjoying the sight of you by his side. You looked beautiful, eyes twinkling in the moonlight as your eyes returned to the fountain, your hair shining. You had grown up and become such a beautiful soul that he knew you were.

“I missed you.”

“Hm?” You looked up at him, confusion and curiosity carved onto your features.

“I thought of you all the time being out there, when it got tough and I needed some of those princess bear hugs you gave me” You giggled at his words, bringing about his chuckle. Your knees knocked as you leaned closer, resting your head against his shoulder.

“I missed you too Stevie.”

“Princess” he murmured after a moment, taking a few deep breaths to quieten his pounding heart, although when he looked down at you it skipped beat after beat anyway.

“Ser Rogers” you teased with a cheeky smirk, the sparkle in your hues growing as you almost challenged him to speak. I dare you, your eyes cried out to him.

Steve was never one to back down from a dare.

His lips were on yours before you could even think, embracing yours in a way that left you dizzy before shocking you into action and kissing back with the same ferocity.

Snap, that rope between you broke.

After that night you’d both chosen to keep your love a secret, your father was strict and unforgiving, he would not stand for his daughter dating someone lower than a future heir despite it not being your choice. Even years later, both of you adults still sneaked around like you did when you were teens.

Your door shook with heavy knocks, Ser Barnes’ voice booming from the other end.

“My Princess, the King wishes to see you at once.”

You groaned and let your eyes fall shut again until soft kisses trailing up your shoulder and neck brought a smile upon your face.

“Come on Lady Blue, can’t disappoint Father now” he joked, deep voice raspy from sleep, vibrating against your ear.

Even after all these years each moment you spent with him felt like you were falling in love with him for the first time, diving straight off the deep end and into your sheets with him.

You stood, helping him into his gear so he could slink off and allow your handmaidens in to help you dress.

“I love you” he whispered into the top of your head, placing a chaste kiss there before tilting your chin up to slant his lips against your own. Despite the shortness of it, you were left breathless when he parted, turning on his heel professionally and making his exit.

A ball of dread settled in your stomach at the thought of today’s meeting with your father. For months now he’d been adamant that you were to be married by the end of the year and set about finding suitors, each time you rejected them he’d bring up another. But you loved Steve too much.

You knew it wouldn’t last forever, it couldn’t. You were noble, bound to marry a prince and join two kingdoms in matrimony. He was a knight, he swore an oath to protect you from harm, nothing more.

All of that knowledge didn’t help it hurt any less when you stepped into the throne room, your eyes landing on potentially the worst prince your father had brought to you yet.

The king from the neighbouring place and his son, John Walker. A self-proclaimed prophet that was bound to rule all over the land.

“You will marry Prince John Walker” your father announced, the smug sneer on the prince’s face had you wishing you’d had breakfast before coming here so you could have something in your stomach to throw up.

You were bound to marry a pompous, arrogant, narcissistic man and leave the man who’d loved you since day dot.

You wouldn’t stand for it.

“I will not marry John” You challenged, something you’d only done a handful of times in your life. Your father’s nostrils flared, his jaw clenching and eyes wild.

“Excuse me?”

“I will not marry him” You repeated.

“You don’t have a choice young lady” he rose from his throne, stomping down the steps until his face was in yours. Your legs wobbled as you tried to stand your ground against your father's presence.

“You will marry Prince Walker, you will join our kingdoms and you will bear his heirs, I am sick of you rejecting everyone I introduce you to so I made the decision myself.”

“I won’t” you yelled this time, hurt and angry bubbling into rage “because I love another.”

The words slipped out your mouth, your hand slapping around your face far too slow to catch them.

The room fell silent. Pin drop silent. Steve stood at the entrance of the hall, head hung low to hide the reddening of his face, his hands clamping into fists at his side.

“Who?” Your father’s hand clamped onto your chin, your jaw throbbing in pain at the hold.

“Ser Rogers” you hissed, falling into a pile of clothes and pain when your father’s hand let you go.

“You wench!” he spat in disgust.

You tried to argue, tried to plead with your father but he shrugged you off.

“Ser Barnes, take my daughter back to her room, I want some time with Ser Rogers. Alone.”

You didn’t struggle as Ser Barnes picked you up from the floor, hoisting you over his shoulder. You couldn’t even look at Steve when you walked by.

Ser Barnes set you down on your bed softly, patting the top of your head as you stared off into space, tears rolling down your cheeks. He left and came back with a small glass of water and a muffin which you refused to eat.

Once Bucky left you crawled up to the head of your bed, stuffing your face into your pillow and staining it with black from your mascara. Your door was on constant watch in case you got any big ideas. The Blue Daisy’s had bloomed but you couldn’t leave, you weren’t allowed to leave.

As day turned into night you shifted to look out at the setting sun. Your dinner lay untouched on your table, your focus set firmly on the world outside, families rushing to pack up their markets before the evening rain.

“Lady Blue” you recognised the voice.

“Bucky?”

“Can I come in?” He asked. You hummed your confirmation and the huge brunette slipped in.

“Steve—he’s being shipped off. Tonight.” He explained his stormy eyes on you, watching you process the information.

“So what? It’s not like I can stop it” You answered bitterly, a shell of the woman you usually were. There was no hint of cheer or teasing in your tone like there once was, it had all been left in that throne room.

You took note of his heavy sigh before he inched further into the room, Only then did you gaze up at him. In his hands was a set of clothes, the kind commoners wore along with a large black cloak and a purple velvet pouch.

“Do you love him?” He asked, eyes searching yours.

“More than anything” you replied without hesitation.

“Then we better move.”

“W-what do you mean?” You stood, head tilted and brows furrowed. You just barely caught the clothes that Bucky threw at you.

“His ship leaves in an hour, if you don’t hurry and get changed we’ll miss it”.

You could’ve kissed Bucky.

The shipyards reeked of fish and shit, but you couldn’t care about that. Not now. Hopping off of Bucky’s white steed you pat its neck before looking up at him.

“Thank you, Buck, I don’t know how I can repay you.”

He smiled, taking your hand in his and kissing your knuckles.

“You can get on that ship and live your life Lady Blue. I’ll see you soon” he flashed you one of his pearly white smiles and turned the horse, setting off the way he’d come.

You darted onto the ship, eyes scanning the faces of workers and guests until they fell on the man that you were doing all of this for. Any doubt that boiled in your stomach melted away leaving only one thing remaining, that deep love that Steve gave you. He didn’t turn until you were standing in front of him.

“Princess?” his shocked voice sounded as he looked up at you. He looked tired, his skin pale and a nasty bruise was forming over his cheekbone. No doubt thanks to your father.

“I’m here” you squeaked as he pulled you down into his arms, his warm body and vanilla scent putting you at ease instantly despite the incessant rocking of the ship.

“You're here” he replied, words vibrating against your hairline before he tilted your chin up and stole your lips in a kiss. Just like he had stolen your heart.

“So you do that…yep and then you twist the stalk around…that’s it!!” You cheered as your son finally wrapped the flower correctly, his big blue eyes almost disappearing behind his lids as he squealed in excitement.

“What’s all the yelling about huh?” Steve emerged, tanned skin glowing, covered in a layer of sweat and dirt, an axe resting over his shoulder.

“Daddy look” your son preened, raising the bundle of blue flowers high in the air so the blonde could see.

“Ahhh is Mama teaching you her old tricks huh?” He smiled, kneeling to place a soft kiss on his forehead before doing the same to you.

“Mhmm gotta make sure he can help me every year, isn’t that right baby?” You plopped your finished flower crown onto Steve’s head before ruffling your son's curly locks.

Despite the running, the fighting and the endless struggle to get to where you were now, you could say you’d do it all again to be sat between your handsome husband and his doppelgänger son—in a field of blue daisies. You would do it all again to be home.

I DO NOT give permission to have my work copied, translated or reposted. If you see my work anywhere else except on this page I have not given consent for it to be used.

Comments, Reblogs, Likes & Asks are always appreciated, although if you liked this fic please consider reblogging so it can reach a wider audience. They let me know that you are enjoying what you read and give me motivation to write more.

Thanks for reading~

[thegnomelord]

ooohh I love the idea of alpha gaz actually. Especially with his dynamic with price because price is kind of like his role model sometimes and he's a much older and more experienced guy that's used to being in leadership positions. Gaz is younger and somewhat looks up to price and has never been in a position to tell other people what to do, so to have that flipped in the bedroom and have omega price and alpha gaz is not what most people would expect them to be. It makes their relationship more interesting. And gaz especially would be a good alpha because he's not a hothead and can keep control of himself more than most other alphas can. And I mean we've already had omega Gaz fics so it would be nice to switch it up this time (not if you don't want to. Just ideas)

Hm that's a good point and a cool dynamic idea too :Dd, as I'm not all that certain if I'm gonna even do abo so here's a quick experimental brain fart with Alpha Gaz/omega Price/alphaHound

CW:NSFW, this is more or less when Hound has mostly been rehabed and is more confident about intimacy. Not all too happy about it but it's a good enough example of how I'd incorporate the abo dynamic. Tell me what ya'll think lol

Price looks like he's run a marathon, huffing and puffing more than a racehorse as he settles in his nest. Of course his heat had to hit a whole 2 weeks earlier than it was supposed to, leading him to make a makeshift nest out of whatever he had in his closet and what the lads gave him. You'd think with him getting on in age his heats would slow down and lessen in intensity, but it seemed like his body was out to get him with his heats remaining the same as they had been when he first joined the military.

At least he's got two alphas able to help him through it.

Gaz doesn't have an overpowering scent like most alphas, but the smell of an omega in the first stages of heat will have any alpha's scent glands going into overdrive. The heady smell of nutmeg and beeswax spreads through the room, mixing with Price's own mint and blackberry scent that's been turned sweeter from his heat, as Kyle tentatively gets in the nest, fumbling with his belt like he's a teenager while he nuzzles his nose into Price's sweaty neck.

"Kyle I swear on the queen if you don't pick up the pace." Price hisses but the edge in his words are dulled by the soft purrs coming from his chest.

"Sorry sir," Kyle mumbles as he rubs his skin against Price's, somehow managing to end up between Price's spread legs, his fingers pushing into his slick hole. "I just- you smell so good."

"Eager whelp." You huff a small laugh as Price groans. Your own movements are slower, more measured, your scent muskier thanks to your age. You feel Kyle's hackles raise as you settle behind him, your body so, so much larger than his. But the low rumbling chuffs you make has him calming down just a bit, enough to not notice when your hand grips his wrist, two of your fingers sliding in along his and curling. "Move your hand like this, you'll get him wet in seconds."

Price moans as your curling fingers brush against the spongy spot inside him, his cock leaking a few drops of pre against his stomach. "As if you weren't the same." Price chuckles, holding Kyle by the scruff so he can pull him down into a sloppy kiss. "First time you helped Simon with his heat you barely lasted a minute before you shot your lil lads like a virgin."

Gaz doesn't know how either of you have enough sense in your heads left to think let alone talk when he feels like his brain is melting through his dick. Your scents curl in his nose and he whines, so hard it hurts him as he feels Price clench and relax around his fingers. He sobs his muffled 'thank you's into Price's neck when you deem Price prepped enough, a firm hand on his cock guiding him inside that tight heat.

Kyle's hips try to snap up to sheathe himself inside his omega on instinct, a low and pitiful grownly whine leaving him when you hold him steady with only his tip inside that tight heat.

"Go slow." You chastise him, one large hand on his hip to keep Gaz still while the other slides down to hold him by his knot. "Wouldn't want you to cum too soon, right?" When Kyle nods dumbly you slowly push on his hips until he's almost all the way inside Price, a small slap on his flank getting Kyle to rock his hips in a way you hope Price still likes.

"Lad- you-" Your name sounds like an angel's choir on Price's lips, his head falling back. Kyle takes that time to lay kisses and hickeys across his neck. "So good to me boys." Price slurs, eyes closing and enjoying the stretch of his walls around Kyle's cock, the pleasure and small hints of pain scratching that gnawing heat in his blood.

"Careful now Kyle," You hum and let go of his cock when he picks up the pace you want him to have, his ass grinding against your cock every time he pulls out to thrust back into Price. "I'll need to show you how to fuck properly if you lack the skills."

You can see why Price picked him to be the team's alpha. Most knotheaded whelps would have been up at arms for even the mere suggestion of taking a cock up the ass, yet by the sharpening of Kyle's scent you can he likes the idea.

"I wouldn't mind that." Kyle shoots back, and his surprising words get a pleased rumble out of you. "Yeah, you like that big man- fuck- hah-" the teasing list in his voice is lost as he moans, the smooth glide of his cock into Price and the lewd sound of omega slick squelching every time he moves making heat burn in his veins.

He shivers as your massive body presses further against his back, pinning him between you and Price and forcing his cock to go deeper with every thrust. "Good." You rumble against his neck, the cold metal plating your canines pressing against his skin as you gently nibble on his neck only working to further stoke the burning heat in his body. "Because I'm finding you lacking."

[targaryenrealnessdarling]

False Pretences

19/12: Holly and Hair Pulling - Tom Bennett Word Count: 2k~ | Warnings: hair pulling, fingering, allusions to p in v, ww2 talk and mentions of hitler

12 Days of Smuff Masterlist

It was as clear as fog, what her role was here.

Since war had broken out in Europe, listening to whatever dire news filled those who listened with fear and anticipation, all the keywords present to stir up panic in every household, she knew she could not merely stand idly by on the shores of England, and do nothing.

It was either overalls and dirty, grotty factories, or the Women’s Royal Naval Service.

She couldn’t deny herself, one sounded better than the other.

Of course her family had attempted to deter her from leaving England altogether, waving her off from the front step as if she were slinging a gun over her shoulder herself and facing Hitler head on. Her mother sobbed, but she did not miss the gleaming pride in her father’s eyes. Her own brother had already gone off to fight, so he’d be left with no children at home, and yet he did not complain, did not forbid her from going. He knew the honest truth, that she would have found a way anyway, stubborn as she was.

Usually, people like her, or women, more so, were not allowed aboard naval ships. Especially hunt-class destroyers. It was far too dangerous, or rather in their words, unsuitable for female company. God, if her parents knew where she stood right at this moment her mother would surely throw a fit until she was red in the face.

Better for them to not know at all, she reasons, sat at her desk, tapping the end of her pencil against her notepad. It was only temporary, they’d told her, a quick posting to fill an urgent need. But that hardly felt reassuring now, deep in the belly of HMS Keith with the sound of waves pounding against the hull and the faint but ever-present vibration of the engines beneath her feet.

The ship shuddered as it cut through another swell, and she reached out instinctively to steady the pencil rolling across her desk. She could hear the men outside, shouting and belly-laughing, no doubt taking some much needed time off their duties to celebrate what they thought was as close to Christmas cheer as they were likely to get. Who knew if it was even Christmas Day?

Her pencil hovered above paper, listening to the constant hum of static that she had come to know so well. These last few hours were quiet, luckily. She supposed the people of Europe celebrated Christmas too. In fact, she’d wager that most of the enemy were doing the very same thing this crew were doing right now, drinking, laughing and card games. Perhaps they were not so dissimilar after all.

A small knock came at her door, and she considered ignoring it, wondering if she had somehow misheard through her headset. But then it came again, more firm, and she rolled her eyes and stood, straightening her uniform to see who was so insistent on seeing her this late hour.

She raised an eyebrow as a man stood there, tall, leaning confidently against the doorframe as the ship swayed slightly. He was young, perhaps somewhere near her age, if she had to guess. His sandy, blonde hair was pulled from his face, sides shaven and short, as was the style of young men.

“Evening,” he said, his tone so breezy it might have been mistaken for confidence. Overconfidence perhaps. “Thought I’d pop by and spread a bit of cheer.”

She crossed her arms. “Cheer?”

He held up the sprig of green, holly, she realised, though the leaves looked rather battered. He propped it in the middle of the doorway. “You know what they say.”

Her lips twitched, but she refused to give him the satisfaction. “That’s not mistletoe.”

“You’re smarter than I hoped.”

“Smarter than you, evidently.” She raised an eyebrow. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh, just checking on our mysterious new arrival,” he said, leaning a little closer as if they were acquainted. “Word travels fast, you know. ‘Unmarked door near the comms room.’ Had to see it for myself.”

She smiled, though she willed herself not to. “And?”

“And here you are. Bit of a shock, I’ll admit. Women on a ship, it’s bad luck, you know.”

She snorted slightly, her cheeks warming in embarrassment at her behaviour. “Didn’t take you to be superstitious. Anyway, shouldn’t you be at your post?”

Tom chuckled, the sound warm and unbothered. “Probably. But this seemed more interesting.”

“Well, I’m afraid you’ll be disappointed. I’m just here to work, same as you.”

“Right. Decoding top-secret messages, I suppose. Life or death stuff, like when Hitler breaks wind or when Goebbels has food poisoning.”

Surprised you know who they even are, she thinks to herself.

She snorted despite herself, quickly masking it with a cough. “Something like that,” she said, turning back toward her desk.

It was her way of dismissing him, but he didn’t take the hint, as men with his confidence rarely did. She busied herself with the papers scattered across her workspace, shuffling them into neat piles that didn’t actually need straightening. She didn’t want to encourage him, but at the same time, she didn’t really want him to go, either.

Behind her, she heard the faint scuff of his boots on the floor. She paused for a moment, a smile rising to her lips when she felt his presence so close behind her. “I do hope you can tell the difference between holly and mistletoe, Mr…?”

“Tom, just Tom,” he answered quietly. “Can’t blame a bloke for wanting a kiss from a pretty girl, can you?”

She turned slightly to look at him over her shoulder, blue eyes almost clear in this low, amber light that felt tighter as time passed. “I suppose it is Christmas, after all, isn’t it?” she smiled.

Tom didn’t wait for a clearer invitation. He stepped closer, his hands brushing her waist as if testing her reaction. When she didn’t pull away, he tilted his head, meeting her halfway. The kiss started soft, tentative, but the heat rose quickly, fuelled by the unspoken urgency of two people who had been too long without touch. Tom cupped her cheek with one hand, the other slipping to her hip.

She turned fully now, her back pressing against the edge of the desk as her hands found their way to his chest. His uniform was coarse beneath her fingers, and she could feel the hard muscle beneath it, the warmth of him seeping through the layers.

She felt the low hum through his chest as he pressed his hips closer, easing her back against the desk, his hand slipping into her hair up the nape of her neck, tightening a fist around her glossy strands as if for leverage to pry her lips open for his access.

She hummed in amusement, prompting him to part with ragged breath, “been around men for too long?”

“Too bloody long,” he confessed, his voice rough as he let out a shaky laugh. 

She smiled, but her eyes looked over as if she were analysing him, her hand sliding from his chest over his belt, her small, soft hand drifting over the evident hardness straining in his uniform trousers.

“I can tell,” she muses quietly.

He let out a shaky exhale, flustered either by her behaviour or slight embarrassment at being so called out for it. But it was clear he wasn't the type of man to like small jokes at his expense, and she let out a breathy whine as his fingers tightened in her hair. Keeping her where she stood, and tilting her face up towards him.

“Are you always like this?” He asked.

“Only to the ones that deserve it.”

He huffed, pulling her up by her hips to set her down on the desk, papers and pencils scattered to the floor under his hasty palm. Her legs parted around his instinctively, letting him step between them, his hands dropping then to her thighs.

His breath was hot on her neck as he placed open-mouthed, nearly desperate kisses there. His hand brushed beneath the hem of her skirt, as if testing the waters, pausing only to pull back to speak.

“Tell me to stop,” he murmured, though his hand didn't move.

“I wouldn't dare.”

Her breath hitched as her hand drifted higher, teasing the gusset of her knickers, sending a sharp, white spark of pleasure up her spine. Her hands gripped his shoulders, shuddering despite herself, he was certainly in no rush.

“You’re soaked,” he said, his voice laced with both surprise and satisfaction. “God, I’ve barely touched you.”

Her face burned with embarrassment, but instead of chastising him, she tugged him back to her lips. He groaned, his fingers exploring the growing wetness and heat forming between her legs. For a moment there was no more, not even a ship. Just his long, thick fingers against her heat, wanting more.

“Tell me what you want, love,” he murmured against her lips, his fingers slipping beneath the fabric now, skin against skin.

She shuddered, parting her legs wider for ease of access and wrapping them around his hips, “just don't stop.”

The sound his fingers made as he explored through her wetness was nothing short of lewd, her back arched slightly into him, wanting to feel the girth of them inside her, and quick.

“Christ,” he murmured, almost to himself, as two fingers slipped inside her, drawing a soft gasp from her lips.

Her nails dug into his shoulders, and her head fell back slightly. “Tom—” she breathed, her voice breaking.

“That’s it,” he muttered, his tone somewhere between curious and wicked as his fingers curled inside her, finding the spot that made her whole body tense and then melt in the same breath.

She bit her lip to stifle a moan, but he wasn’t having it. His hand moved faster, more confident now, his thumb pressing firmly against the sensitive bundle of nerves that had her hips bucking against him.

“Let them hear you, love,” he murmured, his lips brushing against her jaw as his fingers curled just right inside her. 

Her body trembled, the tension coiling tighter and tighter until it snapped, a cry spilling from her lips as pleasure surged through her like a tidal wave. She gripped his shoulders, her nails digging into his uniform as her thighs clenched around him, holding him in place as her body shuddered with each wave of her release.

Once it subsided, the feeling of how tight his fist was holding her hair became apparent but not unpleasant. She sighed, the tension leaving her body slowly, easing her into lulling waves of warmth.

He withdrew his hand slowly, his fingers slick and glistening, and stepped back slightly, though the smirk on his face suggested he wasn’t quite ready to let go of the moment.

“Worth the trouble of knocking, I'd say,” he quipped with a wink, infuriatingly wiping the moisture on his fingers against her bare thigh.

She glanced up at him through her lashes, her smile some kind of soft but amused warning. Her hand shot out to his belt, and his eyebrows shot so high to his forehead she was sure he'd seen God for a moment as her hands worked quickly to undo the buckle and then the buttons.

“Christ, love. Didn’t think you’d still have the energy.”

“Maybe next time, bring actual mistletoe,” she said, her voice dry but laced with heat.

“Next time?” he repeated, his grin turning wicked as he leaned down, his lips brushing against hers, a full body shudder running through him as she took him into her palm, hard and thick, giving a few languid strokes before sliding her other hand up his neck. 

“Oh, love, you’re going to ruin me.”

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[seeingivy]

obsessions

sukuna x f!reader

**part of my best friends (older brother) series

previous part linked here

--

sukuna always considered himself an entirely different entity, especially when he was comparing himself to you. labels were something he learned quick and fast – that he was gifted, that he was juvenile, that he was his mother’s angel boy, but he could never seem to do right by her, or anyone else for that matter, besides it.  

he doesn’t understand it. sukuna wasn’t quite gifted, school just seemed to be something that functioned without requiring any effort from him. that the connections formed in his head, that he was athletic, that people just wanted to be around him. 

that deep down, he wished he could have had the struggle, something that would help him relate to his peers – just so he could be a little bit more touchable. a little more human.

that sometimes without explaining, he would have this tensing energy in him, that always culminated in him pulling a girl’s hair or punching one of his classmates when they made him too angry. that sometimes it was the only way he could relieve that tension that had been building for days.

that he was an angel boy to his mother, who was too spineless to stand up for her sons, and instead left him to do it for the group of them. it didn’t matter if he was eleven, if he was cowering in fear or sixteen and grieving, because someone had to stand at the plate and he had to be the one to do it when no one else would. 

that despite the selflessness it took, it made him angry. that deep down, as an eldest son, as an older sibling – he should have been overjoyed. he should have been happy that no one else did it for him, because it meant he was spared the pain. 

he should have been glad he got to protect them. that at the end of the day, it was his job. 

but no matter how hard he tried, it would still never be enough. the expectations were high and he would never be tall enough to reach them.

it’s why it sends him into a spiraling hole when he fails to deliver for you. quite possibly, the only person he’d want to fill that role for. 

“sukuna?” 

“hm, dollface?” 

he watches as you pace around the room, clasping your necklace around your neck, and smiles at the light pink ribbon in your hair. 

“were you able to wash my sweater? the pink one?” you ask. 

sukuna bites hard into the softness of his cheek, the pit in his stomach rolling in waves. 

the pink sweater, for valentines day. 

he walks closer to you, as you plate the little heart shaped cookies and grab your bouquet of flowers as you look up at him, expectantly. there’s a certain franticness in your demeanor, like you’re ready to bolt out the door in his old college sweatshirt that you were wearing over your skirt without giving it a second thought.  

there’s pink glitter smeared over your eyelids, a sweet flowery smell from your freshly sprayed perfume, and a white ribbon in your hair – you’re so perfect and it makes him feel like a failure. 

“baby, i’m so sorry. i can go throw it for a wash right now.” he murmurs. 

you wince. 

“honey. i’m already running late.” you groan. 

you shake your head, locking your phone as you place your cold hand on his cheek and press a kiss to his skin. 

“no problem, s’my fault anyways. i’ll yank something from kugi’s closet and see you after bestie-tines, okay?” 

sukuna gives you a halfhearted nod, something you don’t notice as you rush out to your little party, and he can’t help but feel his heart sink. 

there’s only one reason that sukuna’s able to read you so well – so keen, so aware about how obsessive you can really be. 

it’s because he’s the same way. 

for you, the comments regarding your looks, the perceived slights of awkwardness you seem to experience, they send you tumbling. make you meticulously brush your hair multiple times, vigorously rub your skin till its nearly pink. 

and for him. the small things he fails at, that he can never seem to do anything right – by his parents, his brother, his beloved girlfriend. 

it nearly drives him crazy. and makes it unable for him to stop.

--

bestie-tines is a simple tradition that was established three years ago, on february 13th. 

valentine’s day, originally, was always a day that you and yuuji reserved for one another. it started out simple – that the two of you could bond on this holiday, be a soft place for each other when other people couldn’t.  

it was always your friends – who felt smarter, prettier, more intelligent and more interesting than you. it was like there was a secret, that there was something fundamental about them that you lacked. that you could pin it to that inherent thing that you would never really possess, which is why you always ended up alone on this day. 

or begging for a text back. 

and for yuuji. it was the teasing comments. from his dad, a classmate, something said in passing that would never leave his mind. and really, the deep rooted despair – that this holiday, in its entirety, would never be one that he would get to enjoy. that even if he was happy, he wouldn’t ever be normal, that maybe he’d always get a weird look or turn a head just for being how he was. 

and when kugisaki came along, it was nearly perfect. you’d each plan a little activity together. you’d get the two of them to bake with you – or more appropriately, stick their fingers into the batter and watch you bake – and kugisaki would make you participate in some ear-splitting karaoke. 

yuuji always liked the warmth of it all, that you’d both fall asleep on his shoulders halfway into the stupid rom-com he picked, and that in the confined walls of his room, he could pretend for one second that things weren’t as they were. 

and years later, megumi was added to the bunch and by translation, whichever girl nobara seemed to be talking to at the time, ended up tagging along too. 

it dampens the mood a little bit. that yuuji and megumi will be holding hands and making the batter together – in a way that seems entirely romantic and antithetical to what the point of bestie-tines was. and nobara’s partners were always in that stage, that stage of talking where the chase became so intoxicating, that other people didn’t seem to exist anymore. 

it didn’t bother you much. the underlying theme was still there – and being the person barring partners from a valentine’s day event seemed to be too pathetic of a hole to crawl into. 

yuuji swings the door open after your first knock, wrapping his arms around you and pressing a swift kiss to your cheek. you nearly cowering at the touch and wiping the wetness away from your cheek. 

“i haven’t seen you in forever, dude. where have you been?” yuuji asks, nearly pulling you in by the arms and taking the little platter from your hands. 

you tuck the ends of your hair behind your ears, giving side hugs to both nobara and megumi as you respond. 

“just around. you know. senior year, thesis stuff.” 

“i feel like i could usually find you holed up in the library somewhere. d’you find some new secret spot that you aren’t telling me about?” yuuji asks. 

yes. your brother’s apartment. 

and you would tell him – you have every intention to let all of them know that you were dating sukuna by the end of the night, because at this point, it was almost stupid not to. 

because really, at the core of it, it’s not like you're embarrassed of him. actually quite the opposite. 

and it’s not that yuuji can police who you date. and if it’s something that makes you happy, it should be something that makes them happy too. 

and deep down, you know it will. that the fact that you were finally, almost being rewarded with what you were given – someone who was patient, was understanding. 

someone who would be able to love you. 

“university of reading? who goes to the university of reading?” 

you look down at your sweatshirt, biting down on your cheek, as you give megumi a peachy smile. 

“sukuna did. like back in the day.” yuuji answers, halfheartedly, into the conversation as he and maki, nobara’s guest for this bestie-tines, set up the karaoke machine. 

megumi gives you a weird look, before leaning against the counter and nobara joining you at your side. she leans her head against your shoulder, one of the little heart shaped cookies trapped in between her lips, as she mumbles through the crumb. 

“are they stale? i had to make them yesterday.” 

“nope. s’perfect.” 

you hum in response. 

“are you bringing anyone, y/n?” maki asks, flipping all the little strobe lights on the little machine. 

“oh-” 

“y/n doesn’t bring anyone to bestie-tines.” yuuji answers, unwrapping the coil of the microphone. 

“our little baby. y’know, she’s always the bridesmaid, never the bride.” nobara states, pinching the side of your cheek before she reaches forward to flip in through the little catlog of songs. 

you pinch your lips into a straight line – swallowing down that acidic feeling in your throat. 

the jokes don’t work the same anymore. not that you were going to be sukuna’s bride, but the implication is entirely different. 

and maybe the phrasing was a little weird. it’s not like you would never bring someone to bestie-tines, it’s just that it had to be someone who was an established partner of yours. and at the core of it – it was always about friends, not romantic partners, and you never felt the need to front.

not that you would ever say that. it almost felt wrong to – to police something for yuuji when what he got to experience, at least in the romantic sphere in public, was always going to be met with some level of scrutiny.  

but it was always wrong. what you used to reach for – lipstick on a pig, always an angel never a god, the poet but never the poem. 

but…but it didn’t ring true. at least not anymore. 

and it goes fine and well. yuuji – and a megumi who takes a little convincing – sing lover and nobara gives you her annual loving serenade to the song one less lonely girl. 

and it all comes crashing down when they ask you to sing all by myself by celine dion. 

“oh, c’mon. you sing it like every year! it’s like your anthem!” yuuji whines, pressing the microphone into your hand. 

you shake your head, bringing your hands up in protest. 

“no singing from me this year. i’ve retired.” 

“dude, it’s like a tradition!” nobara adds, a hand lazily slung over maki’s shoulder. 

you swallow down the retort. that actually, the tradition was that ALL of you sang all by myself together. not you alone, while they sat there and watched you. and that you all baked the cookies together, not you alone the night before in your apartment. 

“not this year!” you respond, getting a resounding group of boo’s before maki takes her place. 

if they really cared about traditions, megumi and maki wouldn’t be there right now – they’d celebrate tomorrow. on valentine’s day, like intended. 

yuuji comes out at your side, megumi distracted by recording the god awful mess coming out of maki’s mouth, and places his hands on your shoulders – leaning his chin right against the top of your head. 

“you okay?” he asks. 

“mhm.” 

yuuji pauses, before digging his fingers into your muscle and forcing you to spin around to look at him. it’s gives you a weird twinge for a split second – how similar he looks to sukuna – before you muster your best smile for him. 

“we’re good, right?” 

“yeah! yeah, of course. still on for friday?” 

“yeah.” 

you hum in response, the two of you giving each other tight lipped smiles in the awkward silence, before yuuji leans against the counter, the two of you watching maki and nobara make their attempts to strangle megumi. 

“maybe next year we can keep bestie-tines to just you and me.” yuuji states. 

you frown. 

“no! no, it’s always fun with the group. plus, it’s nobara’s karaoke machine. doubt she’d let us use it without an invite.” 

yuuji smiles in response, an airy laugh leaving his lips. he leans his head against yours, his cheek smushed against your head before squeezing you hard. 

“i like the group too. but, we rarely get any me and you time anymore. so, just our thing. i can live one day without megumi.” 

you grin. 

“i find that hard to believe. and don’t worry. i’m really not upset or anything, you-you don’t have to change plans and stuff. i just…didn’t want to sing the song. for my own reasons.” you state.

yuuji gives you a nod. 

“yeah, i know. but still – just feel like i barely know what’s going on with you anymore. what rom-com are you going to watch tomorrow?” 

this is your segway. 

yuuji knows that you always spend valentine’s day the same way. that you make the ten minute sheet valentine’s day cookies, light your peony and rose candle, and pick a rom-com before you head to bed early. 

“ah. i’m having an early brunch before class.” 

“fancy. it’s always nice to treat yourself.” yuuji states. 

you bite your tongue. 

“yeah, yeah it is. but…i’m going with my boyfriend.” 

yuuji leans off of your body, eyes pinched in confusion as he looks down at you. the rolling wave of embarrassment, of nerve-wracking doubt courses through you. 

“you have a boyfriend?” 

you swallow hard. 

“yeah. um, we’ve been seeing each other since after christmas. he’s um…really good to me and stuff. i really like him – well actually i told him i was falling in love with him and he said he was too and-” 

“woah. that’s kind of fast.” yuuji states. 

“yeah. but, i’ve also known him for a long time, so…so we kind of skipped some of that like – are you a murderer? talking stage.” you state. 

“the odds are low, but never zero.” yuuji jokes. 

the two of you laugh, as you dig your nails into the hardness of your palm. 

“you should have brought him. though in hindsight, that probably would have scared him off.” yuuji states. 

“it’s nothing he hasn’t seen before though. but i couldn’t exactly bring sukuna here without telling you first. or everyone else too.” you murmur. 

yuuji pauses, before fully turning to face you. 

“you…you’re dating sukuna?” 

“yeah. that’s where i’ve been, i guess. he gave me a key to his apartment since mai is mai and i just kind of stay there a lot.” you state. 

yuuji’s nodding, like he’s rolling over the information on his mind.

the immediate hesitation, the silence – it speaks volumes.

he doesn’t approve. 

“is he going to come on friday?” 

“no. not if you don’t want him to.” you state. 

“yeah. s’just…the mix of the parents. and him and you and sammy stuff. just give me a second to get used to all of that.” yuuji states. 

you bite down on your cheek. 

“you’re okay with it?” 

yuuji smiles, the sentiment not meeting his eyes. 

“not like that’s going to stop you, right?” he asks, an almost jeering tone in his voice. 

“yuuji.” 

“i’m kidding! if he makes you happy, then good for you. just don’t want it to change things between us. don’t go forgetting all about me because you have him.” 

that’s rich coming from him. 

“of course. you and me, first. always.” 

yuuji gives you an affirmative nod, before pushing off the counter and leaving you alone. 

--

you’re tipsy when you get on the train. and by the time you’re pushing the key through sukuna’s doors, the tears that have been streaming down your face for the past twenty minutes are obstructing your vision. 

you’re not sure when it was that you started crying. somewhere between fifteenth street and your stop and that overwhelming feeling with no real source – of the embarrassment, the bleakness, the disappointment – it’s enough to bring everything coming to a head. 

and the thing that pushes you right over the edge is the fact that you can’t slide the key into the lock. it's so frustrating that you give up and lean against the door, the wood of the frame surely indenting your forehead as you heavily pant. 

after five minutes, you nearly collapse into sukuna’s arms when he opens the door you were leaning your entire weight against. he’s fast with it, his hands at your sides holding you up against him. 

“jesus fuck, y/n. i thought someone was trying to break in.” sukuna utters. 

you instinctively wrap your arms around his frame, burying your face into the warmth of his neck. you can tell that he’s confused by the gesture – his arms not coming up around yours immediately. 

“sorry. didn’t mean to scare you.” you sniffle, leaning your burning eyelids against his cold skin. 

“are you crying, doll?” 

“maybe a little.” 

your voice comes out all muffled against his shirt, as he wraps his hand around your neck and lolls your head back with his fingers. the sparkly glitter is spread all over your face now, accompanied with black streaks running down your cheek. 

sukuna immediately frowns, thumb rubbing against the wetness as his eyes soften.

it nearly makes you start crying all over again. 

“do you want me to kill someone?” sukuna jokes. 

sukuna can see the smallest makings of a smile on your face. 

“your key hole. i couldn’t open the door.” you whisper. 

“done. fuck the door.” 

sukuna watches as you laugh, bringing the palms up to your face as you wipe away at your cheeks. he watches as you eye the mess of glitter on your hands, trying to wipe it away, before you look back up at him. 

“you smell like detergent, sukuna.” you murmur, wrinkling your nose. 

his eyes go wide, an almost pink flush creeping up his neck as he shakes his head. he tries to change the subject

“why are you crying?” 

you heave, the tiredness sitting in your limbs as you frown at him. 

“sukuna, honey. i’m really tired and i…i just want to get into bed. just tell me why you smell like you rolled around in the laundry detergent for an hour.” 

you watch as sukuna pinches his lips in a line, before bring his hands down to lock them with yours. he lifts them briefly just to press a kiss on top of your knuckles, his eyes downcast, before he murmurs against them. 

“let’s get ready for bed. i’ll tell you, okay?” he murmurs. 

you give him an affirmative nod, the two of you shuffling around each other in the bedroom and bathroom as you wordlessly go through your routines. the two of you brush your teeth together, sukuna pulling a piece of floss for you, and sukuna carefully helps you change without sparing a second glance.

the smell of detergent is almost worse in the bedroom – overwhelming at first before your nose adjusts and you crawl under the sheets with sukuna. you watch as he swipes his shirt over his neck with one hand, necklace hanging loosely around his neck, as he digs one of his arms underneath you. 

sukuna leans over to your side, as he reaches for your hair and he twists one of the loose strands in his fingers. 

“your stupid thing didn’t go well?” 

you sigh. 

“no. i told yuuji i was dating you. guess it wasn’t the reaction i was expecting.” 

“you told him?” 

in the pale light, your eyes having adjusted to the darkness, you reach forward and press your fingers against his dimple. 

“course i did. i’m serious about you…and i don’t want to hide that.” 

sukuna can feel the sweet ache blooming in his chest, his eyes nearly squinting with a soft joy. 

“i just feel like it’s weird. i think they got used to my whole…personality being that guys treat me bad, that my love life is lame that…maybe they don’t know what to do when that doesn’t apply anymore.” you murmur. 

your palm is flesh against sukuna’s lips and he uses it as an opportunity to press a kiss to your skin. 

“and it’s not just them, i guess. i feel that to some extent too. i feel like…i held onto everything that happened and that it became a part of me. but now that i have no reason to feel that way and sometimes it feels like i don’t know anything. i don’t know what music to listen to because the sad songs don’t really hit anymore. spending time alone isn’t a curse, it’s actually really enjoyable sometimes. and it’s weird to try to figure out who i am when i’m not sad, especially when it feels like…people might not like me if i change.” 

it comes out quietly when sukuna says it. 

“i’ll love you regardless.” 

you hum in response, the words making your chest ache, as you lean forward and tuck yourself into his arms. you bring up one of your hands to his bare pecs and squeeze and you can hear the disdain in his scoff as you can’t help but quietly giggle. 

“i’m going to break your hands if you do that again.” 

“just so comforting, y’know? really helps me feel better.” 

“right. me telling you i’ll love you forever pales in comparison.” 

you smile.

“you said you’ll love me regardless. like you will, in the future. now you’re saying you’ll love me forever, which kind of insinuates that you do right now.” 

sukuna rolls his eyes, one of his warm hands enveloping your cheek. 

“do you want to hear me say it, brat?” 

you grin. 

“maybe a little.” 

your heart beats faster as you wait in anticipation, for the three words leaving his lips. 

“i love you, pretty girl.” 

sukuna watches as you smile wider, the sweetness in your face as you press a kiss to his lips. he can feel you smiling into him, your hands featherlike around his neck as you pull him closer. 

“i love you too, stinky.” 

“you ruined it.” sukuna groans. 

you press your cheek against his shoulder, before you mumble again.

“now tell me what happened with you today?” 

sukuna groans, before ghosting his hands under your his shirt. 

“princess.” 

“you could never say anything that i’d find weird, y’know? i’m never going to pass judgment on you, i just want to know so i can help you if need be.” you whisper. 

sukuna gives you a quiet nod, before talking. 

“i took every piece of clothing you had here and threw it in the laundry.” sukuna states. 

“huh?” 

that had to have taken hours. you’ve nearly transferred your entire wardrobe over here at this point. 

“you…you asked me to wash the sweater for your party. and i know that you take time to pick out your outfits and match your accessories and, and themed parties like this are like your shit or whatever.” 

his voice gets quieter. 

“i’d hate to think i ruined something for you, y/n.” 

“sukuna. it’s just a shi-” 

“it’s not just a shirt to me. because i’ll forget to wash your shirt but then i’ll be to tired to help you do dishes. won’t be able to tear myself from work to pick you up from school when you ask. forget to respond to your emails and become neglectful. i’d hate to have you be disappointed at me when i can’t do these things for you.” 

you’re quiet. you can tell that there’s something he’s trying to say, at the tip of his tongue, but he won’t let it go. 

“c’mon, baby. keep going for me?” you whisper. 

the gentleness in your voice feels like a promise. and maybe if there wasn’t something so intoxicating about baring himself to you, giving you his secrets to keep, he wouldn’t be so keen on doing it all the time. 

“i’ve disappointed my mom time and time again. been able to mediate fights between her and my dad, but barely control my temper at school. and yuuji – i know he needed me, but sometimes i was…it was too much for me that i couldn’t do it for him. i’ve failed them in more ways than one and i can’t do that with you. you…you have to be the exception when it comes to this.” 

the desolate tone in his voice is nearly enough to bring tears into your eyes as you tuck his head into your neck, his breaths labored, as you run your hands through his hair. 

“i��i can’t promise you that it won’t be weird. when i get like this, my mom would almost get pissed sometimes because i’d try to do everything to make it up to her. open the door for her, answer her phone. one time i even tried to make her drink water while i held the glass. i-i know it’s weird but i-” 

you dig your fingers into his scalp, feeling the pulsating near his temple. 

“okay, sukuna. i’ll be more than thankful if you decide to help me with the little things. but, sweetheart. please don’t think you have some debt against me. you don’t owe me anything.” 

“i know it’s not a normal habit and i-” 

“that’s not what i meant, sukuna. i know that you’re aware of that. but…but just let me say these things till they sink in for you, okay? you’re my boyfriend and that doesn’t mean you have to be the end all be all. i can wash my own shirts here and there and help you out too. i love that you want to be helpful honey, but lean on me too, okay?” 

sukuna feels small. not in the infantile, reductive kind of way. in the rare kind of ways he’s felt only a handful of times. like when he got sick and his mom had to take care of him. or when yuuji had to help him out by carrying his books after he broke his arm. 

“what’s that weird shit you told me about once? about the little you inside you or whatever?” 

“oh. an inner child?” 

“yeah.” 

“what about it?” you ask. 

“you just kind of…remind me of it sometimes.” sukuna states.

“in a good way or a bad way?” 

sukuna smiles. 

“good. sometimes i forget that’s in there. s’nice that you see that part of me. bring it out of me sometimes.” 

the earnestness almost makes you cry. you love him so much. 

“me too, baby.”

--

next part linked here

an: no one look at me. this is for me and me only. (the headspace goes crazy at the current moment) the next chapter gives me second hand embarrassment but also its for the plot so im excited

taglist: @porridgesblog @k0z3me @kayleegomez @yihona-san06 @sweetenertea @skzismyhome @mykyoon @violetmatcha @rebeccawinters @shotenvinsoot @itzmeme @gojoswifeyyys-world @cutiejg @chilichopsticks @ghostreadersthings @charlie-xo @whoami-72 @heijihattorisgf @megu-meow @complexivelovely @multiplefandomthings @hoebuns @lzaj19 @glossygreene @ramluvr @sureconfused @najaemism @manduse @imhorn1help @gamergirl5125 @r0ckst4rjk @invisible-mori @isaacdaknight @wishmemel @gyros-cum-sock @suftsunshine @i0099 @cowgirlikets @haitanibros0007 @stuffeddeer @yoontaedotin @ec3lipsy @armani78 @awkwardaardvarkforever @kereseth @leave-rae-alone @ruruvia @princess-ackerman @jjkwritingss @lilkiwikiara @opchara @telepathicheartss @starriesworlds @raechu11 @exprimidordefresas @nxxrxm @aalloochaat @strangehuman101 @tzutology

[grogwrites]

Mistletoe - MV1

Summary: what seems like a harmless mistletoe kiss leaves one assistant and her boss reconsidering their roles in each other's lives

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Female OC

CW: some swearing and alcohol consumption, but mostly fluff 🫶🏻

A/N: just a quick lil Max Christmas fic for yall! It’s not my best writing, but I’m in the Christmas SPIRIT!! As usual, I do not utilize YN, so OC is a named character 💛 Divider by @saradika-graphics

Word Count: 1.6k

* DISCLAIMER: I do not know any of the people in this fanfiction personally, these are all just the works of my imagination.

Emma had been lingering in the corner for an hour now, silently observing the casual crowd of millionaires that surrounded her. While being the personal assistant to Max Verstappen had a lot of perks, she never seemed to be able to shake the fact that this was her everyday life. She technically wasn’t invited to this Christmas party, but Max asked her to be his DD—and considering he employs her, it was hard to say no to some overtime.

The grip on her can of Sprite tightened as the crowd seemingly grew larger and louder by the minute. She knew who some of these people were from the races in the last season, but the strangers definitely outweighed the acquaintances.

“Stop hiding.”

Emma jumped slightly at the sudden voice in her ear. She looked over her shoulder to find Max, smiling down at her. They had a comfortable relationship, but it was definitely nothing more than professional. She didn’t see him enough outside of work like this to really consider it anything other than that. All she knew was he was a nice boss, he paid her well, and he apparently parties pretty hard. He wasn’t drunk yet—she could tell that much. But he was slowly getting there, given the slight flush in his cheeks and the crooked smile.

“I don’t know anyone here other than you,” she replied, smiling. “I don’t know if you’ve forgotten, but my friends aren’t multi-millionaire race car drivers…”

“Hm, I seemed to have missed that detail,” he shrugged. “Seriously, though, I still want you to enjoy yourself. You’re working overtime to drive my drunk ass around—might as well make it worthwhile.”

Emma didn’t have the heart (or dignity) to admit to him that she is usually never caught dead at parties—big ones like this, anyways. Her drinking habits were usually done in the comfort of her own home, or with her friends only. This was…foreign territory to her.

“Ah, I’m okay right here, I think,” she reassured him. “I like to people watch.” She brought her soda up to her lips, taking a slow sip. Max seemed to watch her intently. It made her slightly nervous, but she chalked it up to the fact that he was under quite of bit of influence right now, and probably couldn’t think straight.

“At least come with me to the game room,” he suggested, gesturing down a long hallway. She couldn’t remember whose house they were at…it was another driver’s. Maybe Charles? Whoever it was, their place was massive. It was almost overwhelming. “We’re gonna play some SIM racing.” Emma laughed.

“You just finished off your season, and you’re going to race more?” She teased. Max’s cheeks turned slightly redder at her response. “Fine. If it will make you happy, I will follow you to the game room.”

Before Max could reply, a small batch of mistletoe was shoved in between their faces. Max looked behind them where one of the McLaren drivers stood on the kitchen table—a mischievous smirk tugged at his lips. His curls fell in his face slightly, and his eyes were bloodshot. He was wasted.

“Your turn, Max!” The Brit announced. This must’ve been a bit he had been doing all night, as the people surrounding them seemed to clap and cheer. Emma felt a vicious blush invade her face, as she looked over to her boss in horror.

“Mate, this is my assistant,” Max stated, pushing the mistletoe out of the way. The driver above them returned it to its spot regardless. “I’m not going to kiss my employee. Wouldn’t that go against some kind of code of conduct…?”

“God, you’re no fun,” the man huffed, but didn’t move. “Don’t be a Scrooge! It’s just for fun. So many others have done it all night!”

Max’s gaze flickered to Emma, as if he were genuinely considering it. She thought she could puke, seeing the thought pass across his glossy eyes.

“We don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Max told her gently. “Lando’s just an ass.”

“Um—“

“One smooch,” the man, Lando, held out his pointer finger. “I won’t bother you guys the rest of the night. Just do it for the party!” The crowd clapped, and murmured their words of agreement to Lando’s proposal.

Emma fidgeted with the can in her hands, now finding herself considering the offer. If she did it, then she could go back to hiding the rest of the night. She was getting paid for be here, and Max did say to have some fun. She met his gaze again, then took a deep breath.

“Fine,” she groaned. “But I want to be left alone for the rest of the night after this.” Max’s eyes widened, as if he didn’t think she’d agree. Granted, she probably wouldn’t have if she wasn’t being paid to be here. The crowd around them began chanting a horrendously corny ‘kiss’ as Max took a step closer to her.

“You’re sure you—“

“Just kiss me, Max,” Emma interjected, sounding a bit more desperate than she intended to. Max didn’t waste another second before closing the distance between them, pressing his lips to hers. The crowd erupted in applause as Emma’s eyes fluttered closed. She subconsciously began to kiss him back, when he pulled away.

Oh god.

Emma’s face was more than likely redder than the color red itself. Max was still staring at her as the mistletoe was pulled away, and Lando hopped off the table.

“I think I need some air,” Emma laughed awkwardly. She started to walk away, when she bumped into the table that Lando was previously standing on, spilling her Sprite everywhere. She heard Max take a step closer, but she continued walking away.

Why did she kiss him back? She hurried through the crowd as the thought spiraled through her head at an overwhelming rate of speed. Why, why, why, why? That was her boss, for crying out loud. She just tried to make out with her boss in front of a bunch of drunk, rich assholes.

The fresh air hit her face rather abruptly, which seemed to help ground her in her moment of anxiety. She sat on the stairs in front of the house, then buried her face in her hands. Just a few more hours, she thought. A few more hours, and then they can just pretend that never happened.

.

When Max saw Emma walk into the game room, his heart practically dropped to his stomach. Ever since she ran out, he had been replaying the kiss in his mind. She kissed him back…and he liked it. A lot, really. He could still smell her perfume lingering on his shirt—reminding him of how warm she felt…how soft her lips were. He hated himself for pulling away, but it surprised him. She surprised him. He didn’t know her very well outside of a workplace setting, but now it was all he could think about. What movies does she like? What books does she read?

“Phew,” she laughed as she stood next to him behind Charles’s SIM chair. “That was much needed—and I’m not even drunk.”

Max couldn’t bring himself to say or do anything. He wasn’t really drunk yet, but he didn’t think he wanted to drink anymore after that. He wanted to remember that kiss—engrave it into his memory forever. If he got drunk, it might as well just get thrown out the window. He debated saying something to her; maybe apologizing for pulling away from the kiss. But he didn’t know how the kiss made her feel—God, he’d give anything to know, though.

“Max?”

He looked down at Emma, who was staring at him. She looked concerned…maybe even worried that she messed things up, but she did quite the opposite.

“Shit,” he exhaled. “Sorry. I think I’m ready to go home.” Her shoulders sunk, and he could tell that she thought it was because of her. Realistically, Max just wanted to be with her and her only right now.

“Okay,” she managed a smile anyways. “We can go.”

.

The car ride home was quiet. Too quiet, for Emma’s liking. She drummed her fingers nervously against the steering wheel, before reaching over to turn on the radio. The soft Christmas music flooded the car as they drove through the streets of Monaco. The air felt heavy between them—they were practically suffocating from the elephant in the room. She wondered if Max was going to fire her. She wasn’t sure she could live with that kind of news—she’d have to move back to the states, and work some horrible paying job—

“Pull over.”

Emma looked over at Max, but his gaze was fixated out of the window beside him. She did as he instructed, pulling off into a smaller parking lot.

“Is everything ok?” She asked. Max finally met her gaze. He was sober enough now, but he wasn’t drunk, really, to begin with.

“Um, that kiss—“ he paused, trying to find the words he wanted to use. Shit. This was it. Emma drew in a shaky deep breath, trying to mentally prepare herself.

“I’m really sorry,” she blurted. “Please don’t fire me? I just got swept up in the moment and I—“

Max grabbed ahold of her face, then kissed her again. Emma’s heart was more than likely doing somersaults considering how fast it was beating. He kissed her eagerly—desperately—as the tension slowly lifted between the two of them. Emma pulled away, trying to process what was happening.

“Don’t apologize,” Max’s voice was hoarse, “I’d never fire you. I just…pulled away because it surprised me.”

“You’re not mad?” She asked softly.

“Far from it,” he smiled, pushing her hair out of her face. “Can I please kiss you again?” Emma grinned.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

.

* None of my writing is available for reposting on other platforms. Reblogs, likes, and comments are appreciated.

©️ grogwrites, 2024

[marchsfreakshow]

Withdrawals And Heartache [Kai Anderson]

Angst / smut teasings

Your friend got you into a cult when you moved back into town for a bit. Not that you knew it was a cult. But, the leader...looks oddly familiar.

Request for anon who suggested a part 2 to 'A Drug For His Heart' !! Ur request honestly gave me so many ideas so thank u for that.

Some warnings: smut implications has non-con, reference to hitting, Kai himself. Mentions of religion/corruption. Ultraviolence references but the roles are reversed. We got everything here at MarchsFreakshow

No one's perspective

⊹˚.⋆ ₊꒷ᘏᘏ︶ଓ︶꒷꒦⊹˚ᗢ₊꒷︶ଓ︶꒷

"look just come to one. It'll be worth it."

"Hm.."

You looked at your friend with distain. Being back in this town, knowing the possibility that Kai still lived here tugged at you. Well...you hadn't seen him so far, what was the possibility of seeing him at this... meeting you were suggested? You figured 100% you wouldn't see him.

The man's voice was lower, his face darkened by the shadows. You almost clung to your friend when you walked into the room with them. This place looked familiar. But you didn't put it past you, plenty of houses in this town looked similar to one another. Maybe it was your ditzying memory. 2 years away and a job that paid you well. There was not much here for you apart from family.

"Finally."

His voice rung through your ears. Your friend sat you down with them at the back. Why that voice...like the one that whimpered your name so long ago? Despite those lingering thoughts, his face was still hidden by the shadows. Quick, lingering glances to you. Like he knew you. His eyes on you had you slightly squirming. Adjusting your legs casually, pulling your coat sleeves down. He took notice of it all.

"You. Stay sat." His finger pointed directly into your eyes. Silently eyeing your friend, begging them to stay. Yet, they left in the crowd. Eyes meeting eyes. His footsteps, calculated, short and sour.

Standing up, you left your chair, to stand in front him. The stringy, greasy blue hair, the boba black eyes, the nose. The hands.

Kai.

"Kai.."

He repeated your online name. It made you cringe slightly. "You looked familiar. Why are you back in town?"

"Family."

"Tell me something...your real name. The one people use to devote their time to you."

Slightly stuttering, you got out your real name.

This wasn't the incel, nervous, shaky loser you met on Reddit over 2 years ago. Kai stood taller. Still had terrible hygiene. Atleast one thing never changed. He was more confident in himself, proud and ready to kill. And..the blue hair. It almost confused you. Why blue? He looked perfectly fine the way he did with his natural hair.

"It suits you." A moment of almost awkward silence between the two of you. "Why did you move? Was it me?"

"It wasn't you." It was him. Another step towards you, and his hands confidently found the small of your back. Not reminiscent of his shaky, nervous hands on your waist and your back when he held you close, when he pulled you flush against his chest. Yet that heartbeat stayed the same. Picking up it's own pace once he had you in his arms once again. "Ha...Kai." You breathed out, sprawling your hands over his chest, almost an instinct to push him away.

No. He couldn't have you push him away. Not after what you put him through. "I missed you."

"...I didn't."

Those dark eyes, somehow darker when Kai stared his soul into your soul. Rage. Confusion. Why didn't you miss him? He poured his heart out to you when it was so long ago. Shouldn't you've taken it all to him when you noticed it was him? The dim light over you flickered like a horror movie, a horrible cliché. His fingers digging themselves into your coat fabric, holding himself back from doing something that could drive you away from him.

Kai missed you. He had back in his arms. After so long. He held himself back. His true love. His love for you wasn't enough. Was it? It never was enough. Why was loving you hard? It was so easy...when you were the same person. "I'm different now Kai." Like you knew what he was thinking. "I'm healthier...not wasting away in front of a-"

His hand struck you. A quick, hard slap over your cheek. The reddening skin covered just as speedily with your own hand. "Kai-!"

"Do you really think you're that much different from when you were depending on me?"

"..what the fuck Kai?!"

Meeting your gaze, levelling himself. This definitely wasn't Kai. Whoever it was, you wanted out. Now. "..Still a pretty one. I suppose you're one with a rosary on your bedstand. Hoping for a better world."

No retort after a few minutes. Steeling silence with a unclear gaze, your hand still soothing the sting of your cheek. It almost earned a huff of a chuckle from the blue haired man. Why blue? "Believe yourself to be a lamb? Innocently following the word of god?" Well...you wouldn't go so far as to call yourself a lamb of god. But maybe you read a few verses on Sunday. Visited the church and made a donation when you felt you needed some time away from your own head. Not a full puppet to the landscape of religion. Silent still. Not giving up yet? Kai had seen that. Seen how you were digging your stare into those eyes of his.

"Your god has only let you down." Taking a step around you. Breathing out a sigh, putting his hands on yours and wrapping them around you. Pressing his cheek to the side of your head. Like he was taking you in. "If god...truly loved you..why has you lead you here?"

Your lips were sealed. No response. There was no way you were giving into his stupid tauntings. He was doing this on purpose. Riling you up. You ached to lay your hands back on him. Yet, not wanting to give the desperate man an inch of your time. Such a different man to the one you knew, but still the same. Needing your attention, and your touch at all times like the loser in his mom's basement.

Now that was mentioned...you were here. In the basement. This..was infact Kai's house. How could you be so stupid? Of course this was Kai's place!! You knew the hallways looked familiar. The whole house. "fuck."

"There we go... can't keep yourself quiet for long. Even when I begged you to stay quiet." He lead you over to a table. Even if that did include a bit of thrashing and refusals. Attempting to get yourself away. Such a pitiful thing. So pitiful. The stinging of your cheek had lessened by this point, but it was still there. Never backing yourself down however. You'd gotten this far. Such a pretty thing. "I've missed you..Even if you haven't missed me."

Not particularly wanting to give into your fate, you continued to struggle. Attempts to get away from him; cut your trip short and go back home.

As much as you would never admit it, Kai did appear in your mind once or twice after you moved away. How could he not? For one, he took your virginity. You took his. That was something important to you, and you yanked it away from eachother.

Like how he yanked your jeans away from you. The cold air hit your thighs before you could respond. Both of you stayed silent. His belt hit the ground. You still felt the same. Gripping onto you. Playing with your skin as he got used to how you felt around him again. Whimpering your name again. But your actual name this time. Not your online name.

Somehow become his again, even though you'd leave again in a week or so.

"fuck..mine.."

⊹˚.⋆ ₊꒷ᘏᘏ︶ଓ︶꒷꒦⊹˚ᗢ₊꒷︶ଓ︶꒷

Tags: @babygorewhore / @taintandviolent / @oceanblvd111 / @nahoyasboyfriend / @coentinim / @slutforgarlogan / @briaroftheroses @am3ricanh0rrorwh0re /. @evanpeterspeter / @feefymo / @fear-is-truth / @lacucarachapisser / @marchsfreak / @saintlucretia / @jazz-berry / @t8-ak47 / @lemoniiiiiii / @xrag-dollx

[littlefanficprincess]

I'll miss your pretty face

oneshot

Pair: Tord (post end) x reader

Song: This part of me (By Katy Perry)

Part 1

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A figure stumbles through the street, gripping this right arm. From time to time they would accidentally bump into nearby building, they felt so weak.

A trial of blood droplets follow them, dripping from their open wounds. Having not much option, they went to the only nearby safe place.

They stop at a house with a warm brown door, hesitantly they reach over to the doorbell and ring it. A tune admits from it.

Slowly, the door opens , revealing a girl with (h/c) hair. She was wearing a (f/c) hoodie that was hiding her figure "Hm? Tord!" Her happy expression dissapears when she notices his damaged form.

"Oh dear, come on!" She leads him inside, closing the door behind. She motions for him to sit on the couch, while she rushes to the kitchen for the first aid kit.

Tord silently takes a seat on the comfy couch, looking around the house. Photo frames decorate the shelves, some of them was of the girl's family while the others of him, Tom, Matt and Edd.

Even if she hadn't seen them for quite a while, but still loved them dearly.

She runs back to the living room, holding the first aid kit. She snatches the role of bandage from it, wrapping it around his injured arm.

"Are you okay?" What happened?" She asks. Using scissors to cut off the bandage and secure it.

Tord cough, swallowing the blood that was coming up his throat "I'm fine, just got in a small accident" he takes note that his sight of his right eye was barely there.

"Small? The half of your body is covered in blood" (Y/n) wraps bandages around his head, covering the wounds on his face.

"Hold, let's get you to the hospital" (Y/n) gets up to grab her phone. Suddenly Tord grabs her wrist, stopping her in place.

"Please... don't" The brunette mumbles, looking down. He knew that they would most likely regonise him there and report him the authorities. The best was to hide out with (Y/n) for now, till' Pat and Paul were able to pick him up.

(Y/n) Sits back onto the couch, with a worried expression on her face "Why? Isn't it smart to get professional help with you in this state"

Grabbing her hand, Tord thinks of a quick excuse "Um, I'd rather stay with you, yeah"

Instantly, the girl's face lights up "Oh, ofcourse!" She gets up from the couch, her cheeks somewhat warmerd up "I have a guest room, let me get it ready for you to settle in. Feel free to take anything from the refrigerator and tell me if you need something"

In an instant, she was gone to prepare the room for him. Her excitement amused him, just the same before he left for the Red army. He thinks to back when they went to a shooting ranch.

(Y/n) Holds up a gun, having one eye closed to aim. Her form was somewhat shaking, still somewhat worried with using a gun for the first time.

"Stop shaking like a leaf, you will shoot someone's eye out" Tord strolls up behind her. He stands close to her and grabs her hands, guiding them.

"Stand steady, aim, breath in, breath out and shoot" The brunette commands. (Y/n) slightly spreads her legs to stand more steady, she in- and exhales. Carefully, her (s/c) finger pulls the trigger. A bullet shoots out of it and his the target right in the middle.

She places the gun, before slinging her arms around Tord's neck "Yes! Thank you!" She hugs him tightly.

Tord was taken back by the sudden embrace. He wraps his arms around her waist "It's nothing, I had to make sure you didn't accidentally kill someone"

"Tord...Tord!"

"Huh, what?" Tord snaps out of his trip to memory lane.

"I said I have finished the room. I'm gonna head to my own, Goodnight" (Y/n) explains, poking her head around the corner. Her head soon dissapears as her footsteps become softer.

Tord sighs, traces his finger over the edges of the bandage that covered his arm. He felt somewhat warm inside, knowing that didn't change a bit since they last saw eachother.

He gets up from the couch and walks to the guest room. He opens the door and walks in. He was met with a somewhat empty room, it had a closet for clothes and a bed with red sheets on it.

The brunette sits down and pulls his half destroyed hoodie over his head and tosses it onyo the floor next to the bed. He flops onto the bed, staring at the ceiling.

Thought about, his old friends, Paul and Patryck, the Red army and finally (Y/n). It is the best if he leaves as soon as his comrades arrived, he didn't want her to figure out he was a dangerous person.

┏━°⌜ 赤い糸 ⌟°━┓

Timeskip

┗━°⌜ 赤い糸 ⌟°━┛

(Y/n) walks into the library where she worked. Before she left, she left a plate of breakfast and a note for Tord to find.

She pauses when something catches her eye the enterance. Her (e/c) eyes scan the poster on the wall.

On it was a guy looking pretty similar to Tord, well before he got his major injuries. He was holding a gun, along with wearing a blue coat over his iconic, looking like an army uniform. There was bandage around his neck and on his right cheek. It was actually a wanted poster with a price of 1.500.000.

"That is weird" (Y/n) pulls out her phone, taking a picture of the wanted poster. She was gonna ask Tord about once she was done with work. Worried thoughts enter her brain.

'Is it real?''

Why would Tord be wanted?'

'How did he even got hurt?'

'Am I in danger?'

She decided to shake off the concerning thought that circled her head and begin her shift.

┏━°⌜ 赤い糸 ⌟°━┓

Timeskip

┗━°⌜ 赤い糸 ⌟°━┛

"Hey, Tord. Can I ask you about about–" (Y/n) enters her house only to find it empty. "Tord?" She looks through the house for any sign of him, sadly finding none.

"Did he leave?" She notices an empty plate on the kitchen counter, on it was the note she left. Written underneath her message was a small sentence with red pen.

Thanks ♡

To be continued...

(Insert MLP outro)

[local-crying-boy]

🄹🄾🄷🄽 🄿🅁🄸🄲🄴

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

𝕂𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕥𝕠𝕓𝕖𝕣 - 𝔻𝕒𝕪 1

𝙿𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐: 𝙹𝚘𝚑𝚗 𝙿𝚛𝚒𝚌𝚎 𝚡 𝙵𝚎𝚖!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

𝙿𝚛𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚝: 𝚁𝚘𝚕𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚊𝚕

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝙽𝚘 𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚢/𝚗, 𝚏𝚎𝚖𝚝𝚘𝚙, 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚌𝚋𝚘𝚝𝚝𝚘𝚖, 𝙿𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚜𝚎 𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚔

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 821

A/n: ngl this one is quite bad, BUT I promise it isn’t gonna be like this for all the days

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

John Price was a very experienced man, he was not one to kiss and tell, but even you knew that he had been with his fair share of women. He knew what he was doing, he knew how to pleasure and he knew how to get you to become an absolute mess.

Though, he was also one to explore anything in bed, especially with you. If you were into something that would especially satisfy you, John would be up to trying it for your benefit.

Which only meant that, in a matter of time, before you asked him to switch roles when having sex. Thus leading to his current situation.

A quiet groan escaped his lips, head leaning against the pillow, his large, rough hands running up the sides of your naked body. It almost seemed uncharacteristic how he seemed to have completely switched up, his mouth slightly agape as sharp breaths could be heard from every bounce on his aching cock.

“Oh… fuck, love…” he whispered out faintly, taking a shaking inhale in as his eyes screwing for a moment, before meeting your amused orbs.

In contrast to how John would take care of you during these intimate moments, you were agonisingly slow in your movements. You quickly found that you enjoyed those little subtle changes in his expression.

“Fuck, I know…” You muttered softly, inhaling silently as your hands running up his chest, it rising and falling quickly. “Feel so good..”

John’s hands travelled up your body further, his hands cupping both your breasts, a low groan slipping past his lips at the mere contact with you. You head leaned back for a few moments as John’s large hands squeezed around your tits.

“You’re doing good…” you breathed out with a grin, eyes locking onto his once more as your head moved down again. “So… fuckin’ good…”

The man at your mercy let out an almost inaudible noise, one that could almost be mistaken as a moan or maybe even a whine. You let out a surprised laugh, you felt as his cock twitched inside of your pussy and it hit with you shock at the idea that he was getting turned on with such a little bit of praise.

You leaned down closer to him, so close that you could feel his breaths hitting your skin. “You like that, hm, baby?”

“C’mon, Lovie…” John managed to breathe out, it looked like he was having a hard time to actually talk during this intimate moment, unlike when he was being dominant.

“Just be a little patient.” You mused softly, your hands running over his abs, his chest and his pecs.

He let out barely audible moan, one of his hands moving to the back of your head to pull you closer to his face. “You’re killing me here, Lovie.”

“I know, I know.” You said with a small grin, leaning down and planting a slow kiss on his lips. “You’re doing good, just a few more moments… hm?”

“Oh, fuck…” John cursed under his breath, his hips bucking up for a moment as his cock twitched inside of you once again. He was desperate, aching, and you weren’t helping at all.

You couldn’t help but let out a small laugh, though, you decided to no longer continue with this torturous treatment towards your husband. Your movements on top of your patient husband sped up, his groans grew louder and you started to let out heavy breaths and gentle moans.

“Oh, Fuck!” John groaned out from under your moving frame, his hands quick to move back to your hips, his thick fingers grasping onto you so hard that you were sure bruises were bound to be left. “Fuck… Love…”

John who was, as clear as day, so close to becoming undone, was trying so hard to hold off his climax as he would usually do when he was on top.

You smirked at his determination to hold off, hand cupping his face, index finger and thumb moving down to grasp his chin. “You can cum first, baby, don’t wait for me. Fill me up.”

He muttered faint curses under his breath, panting heavily before he tensed up quickly, fingernails digging into your plump skin, crescent indents into your skin.

You let out a moan, head rolling back as you felt John’s hot seed invade your hole. Your pussy tightened around his cock, causing John to moan out and buck his hips further into your entrance.

After feeling his warm liquid fill you, your pussy clamped around his cock like a vice, your mouth agape as well as you felt your body convulse. As a shuddering breath escaped your drying lips, you felt yourself come undone alongside your husband.

Your forehead rested against his, breaths escaping your lips fiercely. You were both left heaving, both of you trying to catch your breath. John’s hand made its way back to the back of your head, fingers slowly shaking through your locks.

“You should be on top more.” John panted out with a breathless chuckle.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Kinktober {2024} Masterlist

[damnasstyles]

I just sent a request but didn't realize i literally sent that same exact one like months ago omg I'm embarrassed. .. but can you do a dad!harry one of his first time alone with the baby 😭

hii!! i’m so sorry it’s taken me forever to write this, but it’s finally here! hope you like it! ❤️

*jesus i'm editing this on august 2024, i had completely forgotten i'd never published this lol, soz. anyways! edited it a bit and finished it so here you go! x*

880 words. Enjoy! x

_______

Ottilie was 12 weeks old and it had been over four months since yn had been out with her friends, whether that'd been for lunch, dinner, a party or just a coffee. This is why Harry had arranged for her to have a day out with her friends. Well, more than arranged, he strongly encouraged her to go out with them. She had been turning them down ever since Ottilie was born, but it was about damn time she got some quality yn time and get away from the mommy role for just a few hours.

This, of course, led to the situation Harry was in right now: covered in puke with a crying and smelly baby who refuses to leave her father’s arms. 

“C’mon, sweet pea, we gotta take the onesie off and shower, alright? It’ll be twoooo seconds” He rocked her back and forth for a few more seconds before laying her down on the changing mat, which caused her to shriek harder than before. “I know, baby girl, III know, it’s alright, it’s okay” He tried to calm her down while getting her clothes off as quick as he can, his hand tickling her belly gently in an effort to cheer her up. "It’s ookaay, babyyy, look! All ready! Let’s take a warm bath to make you feel better, yeah?” He undressed himself at quick speed and opened the water tap. There was no way he was going to bathe her by herself since she was so fussy, not having as much skin to skin contact with her daddy as possible would make her even fussier. Such a daddy's girl.

He leaned forward over her and lifted her up, laying her on his chest, before walking into the walk-in shower. He had grabbed a small towel to cover Ottie with before walking in, so warm water would soak her but not fall directly over her. The warmth of Harry's chest, the soft drops of water on her back and her daddy's heartbeat seemed to soothe her a bit, though she could not seem to settle down fully.

"That's much better isn't it, bug? Hm?" A soft head kiss always made his heart flutter. "We have nice warm water now, and we're getting cleaned uupp" His soft tone never failed to soothe Ottie. From the moment he knew he was going to be a father, he started reading parenting books like it was his new religion. There was one specific chapter he read that stuck with him the most. It focused on the language development of the baby, and how narrating what was happening to them built better language foundations and encouraged faster acquisition. Since he'd read that book, he'd talk to the belly every single day without fail. Most days it'd be for an hour, but even in the most exhausting days he'd never skip at least a 10 minute monologue with Ottie in utero.

"Is your tummy hurting again, little bug? S'that why you got sick all over daddy and did a big explosive poo? That's okay, it happens to the best of us. We'll finish this niice shower in a minute, and we'll do some bicycle legs once you're in your cosy little pyjamas hm? How's that sound?" He booped her nose playfully with a soft and loving smile, making Ottie squint just a bit before letting out a soft sound, a mix between a giggle and a whine.

Once little Ottie was thoroughly clean, Harry stepped out of the shower and quickly wrapped her into a new clean and dry towel, making sure she was well wrapped before he laid her down on the changing table and pulled his dirty boxers back on. He'd get a proper shower and change of clothes once Ottie was more settled.

He put Ottie into a fresh nappy and cosy pyjamas in record time, and took her to his and yn's bed. After he sat himself against the headboard, he laid Ottie between his spread legs, on the mattress. "Theeeee wheels on the bus go round and round, round and round. The wheels on the bus go round and round, aaall daaay looonggg" Harry sang as he moved her little baby chubby legs up and down, one at a time, at the same time, side to side, circle-wise, any way that'd help her release the suspected gas inside her. And it worked! The moment he pushed both her leggies up and against her belly at the same time, gently yet firm, she let one rip that it made the bed covers shake! "Oop!" He said stopping his singing, little Ottie let a cute relieved "ah" sigh before a big smile and squeal appeared on her face. Harry bursted out laughing as she picked her up and kissed her cheek repeatedly. "That was one naaasty gas, bubba! Good job!"

****************

If you want to read more about harry and ottie's adventures, check out my masterlist here and feel free to send in requests!

[blniight]

Hiii, welcome to tumblr!!! I see you haven't written for any requests yet but i was wondering if you would write a idol!Yeosang x reader oneshot where he comes back home after tour and finds that reader has adopted a pet (cat, dog, bunny whatever you want!) And is referring to it as their baby?

𝐌𝐚𝐥𝐭𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐁𝐨𝐲 | kang yeosang .ᐟ

☆ ᴀᴛᴇᴇᴢ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ

☆ ᴋᴀɴɢ ʏᴇᴏꜱᴀɴɢ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ

kang yeosang of ateez x reader !

꩜ synopsis .ᐟ — you adopted a dog to call it your baby but yeosang has other plans

꩜ content .ᐟ — fluff | idol!yeosang | sulky yeosang | soft | heartwarming and cute overall ( me thinks ? ) |

꩜ warnings .ᐟ — none :)

꩜ author’s note .ᐟ — oh my, thank you so much for writing my first request on here! i tried my best to write it according to the plot you’ve given me and i hope it reached your expectations at least a little bit. i hope i did a good job and thank you once again so much. <3 enjoy reading.

꩜ the characters and events in the story are all fictional except for the k-idols taken to fill in the imaginary role of a main character. nothing in my works is an attempt for sexualization nor it’s a hate towards anyone. please keep in mind everything is fiction and the way idols act is not presenting their actual picture nor i want to ruin their image to the society. if you’re staying up for reading. i hope you enjoy. don’t forget to like and leave a comment. it means a lot. thank you. .ᐟ

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

“ Bravo! Aren’t you the cutest little being? Come here! “ — I squealed excitedly, watching as the little white fluff quickly rushed it’s tiny feet towards my open arms.

“ Good boy! “

The small maltese dog licked the palm of my hand happy with the way I scratched under his ears.

“ Are you hungry hm? I should feed you before going to sleep. “ — I said, looking at the wall clock above the fireplace that showed 10pm sharp.

Standing up from the cold wooden floor I was sitting on, I walked towards the kitchen. Last drawer of the counter was filled with many yellow packages that were especially bought for this occasion and that is — adopting this cute little fluff ball.

Having a whole house for myself now was slowly draining every bit of social and emotional energy left in me.

Most of my friends were way too busy for a meet up, having jobs or children to look after while I was rotting in my bed for the past two weeks, since me going out required more work than usual.

I wasn’t supposed to leave the house at all, only if necessary. “Others must not see you walk out of Yeosang’s house or they’ll suspect things” — is what’s written in the managment message sent by the CEO.

So I made my own little child to look after.

Well not really made… I adopted it.

“ Hetmongie come here boy! “

Quick tiny footsteps echoed through the huge room, as the dog walked up to it’s bowl full of food.

He was happily munching on the food with his tail wiggling around, which decorated my face with a bright smile.

I miss Yeosang.

At the thought of my boyfriend, the phone I left on the dinning table dinged.

‘I’m on my way home! Should be there around 7 in the morning, don’t stay awake! <3’

“ You’re gonna meet your daddy soon little one! “ — I exclaimed, watching as the fluff ball kept on eating, absolutely not caring that I was giggling like a crazy woman.

Once I got ready for the bed, welcoming myself into the warm clean sheets — the sleep immediately crashed over me.

A slight movement on the bed, the warmth of another body next to mine, strong but gentle hands carefully wrapping themselves around my body — pulling me in closer. Neck kiss followed by a deep breath that sent shivers down my spine.

“ I missed you. “ — a deep voice whispered, trying not to wake me up, not knowing I was already aware of my surroundings.

I opened my eyes, sleepily smiling, turning my head to look at the Aphrodie’s son himself.

Kang Yeosang.

“ Yeosang… “ — I mumbled. “ You’re back. “

“ Yes angel, I’ve just arrived. “ — He said, pecking the tip of my nose. “ I didn’t want to wake you up yet, sorry. You should go back to sleep, it’s barely morning. “

“ No, I’m fine. I went to bed early. “ — I said, turning my whole body to completely face him. “ How was the last show? “

“ Intense and truly amazing. Wooyoung teared up a little when we were leaving. “ — He answered, reaching his hand out, fingers brushing against my cheek, tucking the hair strand behind my ear. “ It honestly made me tear up too. “

“ Crybaby. “ — I chuckled.

Yeosang narrowed his eyes at me. “ I’m not. Wooyoung cried more. “

“ Oh, so you’re both crybabies? “ — I teased.

“ I thought you missed me, now why are you clocking me so early in the morning? “ — He asked, eyebrow raising suspiciously.

“ Because it’s funny seeing you all worked up when I tease you about being a softie. “ — I giggled, while his face remained serious.

“ That’s because I’m not. “

“ Mhm. As if I’d believe you. “ — I whispered, brushing our lips together, my eyes seductively dropping — meeting his.

“ What do I need to do for you to believe me? “ — He asked, eyes following the spell luring him to my lips.

“ Show me. “

His lips met mine in a passionate kiss, making my heart increase it’s beatings.

Oh how I missed his lips, his kisses and his gentle touches.

Turning around, my body was trapped under my lover, hands behind his neck as his went to hold my waist.

As Yeosang’s lips trailed their way down my jaw, slowly reaching my neck — Hetmongi jumped on the bed, letting out a strong loud bark.

Yeosang jumped, in progress moving himself from me, letting out a small scream before dropping on his butt on the bed edge.

My eyes scanned Yeosang, who was staring at Hetmongi like it’s a ghost from the scariest horror move he’d ever seen — sitting on our bed. His hands holding his chest, afraid that a heart attack wasn’t far away from catching him.

My laugh broke the silence, almost tearing up at the scene that unfolded a second ago.

“ Y/N it’s not funny, I almost died! What is that doing here?! “ — Yeosang said, trying to calm down his heavy breathing and racing heart.

“ I-I can’t you… I can’t you’re so funny… “ — I spoke in between laughter, trying to catch my own breath as Hetmongi licked the palm of my hand.

“ Is that a freaking dog? “

“ Are you being serious now? Of course it’s a dog, look at him, hello little boy! “ — I said, scratching Hetmongi’s ears.

“ Well I’m sorry for not expecting to see a dog bark at me while I’m trying to have sex with my girlfriend! “ — Yeosang sulked.

I covered Hetmongi’s ears, nasty side-eyeing the boy sitting on the bed.

“ What? “ — He questioned, confused by my deathly stare.

“ It’s still a baby, watch your language. “

He blinked twice, looking at the fluff ball, then back at me.

“ Why do you have a dog? “ — He questioned.

“ Because I adopted it. “

His eyes widened. “ You adopted it? “

“ Yeah, isn’t it cute? “ — I asked, grinning widely as Hetmongi made himself comfortable, climbing in my lap.

Yeosang eyed the dog for a few more minutes, his brain processing what is going on, before speaking up again.

“ You didn’t tell me there was a dog here. “

“ It was supposed to be a surprise. “ — I said. “ Hetmongi meet your daddy! “

Yeosang glanced down at the maltese in my lap.

“ I- What… “

He was completely lost, the cogs probably not doing much work in that beautiful head of his.

“ Are you mad at me? “ — I asked, watching his zoned out stare.

“ What? “ — The trance broke, back to soft eyes looking up at me. “ No, angel, I can’t ever be mad at you. I just didn’t expect to see a dog all of the sudden, plus it scared the absolute shit out me like… God. “

“ His name is Hetmongi. “ — I said with the proud smile.

“ How original. “ — Yeosang commented, rolling his eyes playfully.

“ I thought about adopting a cat but this maltese looked like you so I had to take him home. “

“ Oh not you too… “ — Yeosang said, standing up from the bed like something terrible just happened in his life. “ I will not sit here being called a maltese by my own girlfriend too. “

I giggled at his adorable reaction, all frustrated. “ Cutie. But it means that it’s true now that I’ve said it too. “

“ First of all… “ — Yeosang fixed his posture, his chin proudly up in the air. “ I’m a doberman, second of all, I’m not cute. “

Silence.

Before I brusted out in laughter again, making him scoff at me.

“ Y/N, it’s not funny! “ — He raised his voice, pouting like a five-year old.

Hetmongi barked at him again, making my laughter unstoppable.

“ Even our son agrees with me. “ — I said.

“ You all just hate me. You both turned against me. I see how it is. “ — He dramatically said, tucking literally nothing behind his ear, looking anywhere but me.

“ Mongie I think daddy is having an identity crisis. “ — I spoke to the dog that was still cuddling in the warmth of my lap.

“ It’s not because I know I’m a doberman. “ — Yeosang said. “ Now, you both excuse me while I go and take a shower. “ — adding, he turned around leaving the room. The serious attitude act never dropping.

“ Don’t let him fool you, he’s a maltese. “ — I spoke to Hetmongi.

“ Doberman! “ — Yeosang’s voice rang through the hallway back to us.

About a week later, the noticeable change was kicking in Yeosang and his interactions towards Hetmongi.

He would often feed him, play ‘catch’ around the house and I would even catch him sleeping with Hetmongi in his lap.

Currently Wooyoung and Mingi were over, having dinner at our place as we all witnessed Yeosang feed Hetmongi.

The white maltese happily barked, listening to every order Yeosang would say, patiently waiting to get his food.

“ What are they doing? “ — Mingi questioned. The scene in front of him alerting his brain chemistry.

“ They are communicating. “ — Wooyoung chuckled.

“ Like father like son. “ — I said.

“ I’m literally right here, stop gossiping. “ — Yeosang said, joining us at the table.

“ Does this mean you’re accepting your maltese side finally? “ — Mingi asked.

“ For the billionth time, no. “

“ He’s lying. “ — I mouthed to Mingi, giggling.

“ So, when are you gonna introduce your son to others? “ — Wooyoung added.

“ Once Y/N gets pregnant. “ — Yeosang said, making me choke slightly on the piece of bread I had just biten into.

“ Oh. “ — Wooyoung smirked. “ I see how it is. I hope you also name it Hetmongi. “

Once alone in the house with Yeosang again. I walked up to the couch he was resting on, Hetmongi curled in his lap again.

“ Yeosang… About what you said… While we were eating. “ — my own voice betraying me, gulping nervously.

“ About you being pregnant? “ — He looked up at me sitting down like I’m paralyzed.

I nodded, taking a deep breath to speak up again but he was fast enough to catch on first.

“ I wasn’t joking… If that’s what you wanted to ask. I mean, I really want to have a baby with you one day. A family. So… Like… “ — He spoke, his cheeks blushing, eyes looking everywhere but me in panic. “ Whenever you’re… Uhm… Ready for that… I don’t want to pressure you or anything. I just said it, so you know that, I see the future with you. “ — He stopped for a second, thinking deeply before looking into my eyes, noticing they are full of tears. Removing Hetmongi from his lap, he grabbed my hands immediately.

“ Y/N, why are you crying? I-I… Did I say something wrong? I’m sorry… I know it probably didn’t make any sense… It’s okay if you don’t want to get pregnant… I mean we don’t need to have a child, we-we have Hetmongi and we’ll adopt another one if you want to or if— “

My lips placed on his, breaking his nervous, stuttering and heaven sent speach, taking him by surprise. His lips responded to mine tenderly before I pulled away.

“ I love you. “ — I said. “ I would love to have a baby with you Yeosang. “

I heard him gulp, redness painting his pale cheeks again. His glowing eyes, searching for any discomfort in my own, not breaking the contact.

“ Y-You… You would? “

I nodded.

“ Absolutely. I want to spend the rest of my life with you and also raise our baby together. “ — quickly pecking his lips again before adding. “ Maybe Hetmongi would love to have a brother or sister. “

He smiled, suddenly standing up from the couch pulling me up with him in his arms, which got me gasping in surprise.

“ Then I think we should make you a real baby this time instead of adopting another maltese. “ — He said, walking us out of the living room, taking slow steps upstairs.

“ Don’t need more maltese dogs. I already have two. “

Rolling his eyes, he carried me inside our bedroom.

“ You’re going to be the death of me. “

Hetmongi barked from the living room, making me chuckle and Yeosang to shut the door closed this time — wishing not to have any more ‘interruptions’.

[squishmyster]

Crazy, he calls me

Cooper Howard could be described as a husband, father, and a prolific actor but what happens when it all starts crumbling under his feet and one of the only things to give him fresh air is you. His co-worker and one of his closest friends. Will everything including your relationship fail or will it be the one thing that survives even a nuclear fallout.

Authors Notes: HELLO ALL THIS IS MY FIRST FIC SERIES...very much a slow burn...ANY CONSTRUCTIVE CRTICSIM IS WELCOME AND I HOPE YOU AAL ENJOY!!!! OH AND ITS IN THE FIRST PERSON.... Warnings: Mentions of dying parent! Prologue~~~ Reunion MASTERLIST

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Chapter 1~~~ Give Me the Simple Life

The First time that I met Cooper was during the war while I was a medic. We never really said much except a few polite waves and hello's that then turned into polite conversations and heartfelt talks. After the war, we came across each other on the set of A Man and His Dog. 

Arriving earlier than planned to the studio I get out of my car and walk to set I can't help but feel a little sad seeing how this is the smallest role yet but no matter how much I've done as an actress a gig like this is just what I need right now low stress and good pay. Even if I have money saved up I have to pay for my sick parents' medical fees and if I don't work I'll be bankrupt by the time I'm thirty. So I put on a smile, straighten my back, remind myself that I haven't been doing this too long, and make my way inside politely waving and saying hello to anyone I come across. 

After a quick debrief we were told to wait for the rest of the cast and crew to get there. As I was sitting off to the side nursing a very bleak coffee I started people watching taking note of who was talking to who. Looking between small groups of people and watching their mannerisms. That was until my eyes landed on him the man of the hour himself Cooper Howard. Smile shining, eyes bright and full of life. I couldn't stop myself from starring taking in all his dashing features and then we locked eyes it felt like my breath was stolen from me and all I could do was give him a small smile and wave before taking a sip of coffee in my hand which I quickly regretted forgetting that it tasted like burnt rubber and sugar.

Before I could even look up I felt a small tap on my shoulders and heard the voice of the man I was once very close to. "Hey, long time no see".  Looking up at him I smile and give him a slight nod. "Long time no see Cooper, how's life treating you?". seeing him up close is almost refreshing, to say the least after having not talked or seen him after his honorable discharge from the military... it feels like I found something I lost a long time ago. "Hm well... life's been pretty good to me so far, especially since I get to spend a lot more time with my daughter Janey, and what about you?". 

Hearing the light that comes to his voice at the mention of his daughter I smile and can't help it when my mind tries to envision him being a dotting father. Slightly embarrassed I down the rest of my coffee and take a glance looking for a nearby trashcan to discard the cup leaving Coopers lingering glances along my figure and the slight smirk on his face go unnoticed. " That's great I'm glad to hear things have been going well for you... as for me well things are great". Deciding it wouldn't be appropriate to spring family problems on him seeing as it's been years since we have seen each other I keep my answer short and sweet with a billion-dollar smile to match. 

Standing as poise as possible I place the empty paper cup on a table close by and straighten out my dress making sure any visible wrinkles like radium in face cream. "Well-". Before Cooper could say another word we were being called to go to get ready to shoot for something that should be a nerve-racking day being my first time around most of these people but I didn't feel nervous if anything I felt excited and maybe it was because I finally have Coop back in my life but I'm gonna disregard that and just say the excitement is no different this time than any other time I've been excited about a movie I'm acting in.

Saying our goodbyes Cooper gives me a charming smile before turning to leave while I grab the almost forgotten cup and throw it away in the nearby trashcan. After an hour in the hair and makeup chair, my mind drifts to my mother and how she's doing even if it feels like a worthless thought seeing as she's lying in a hospital bed dying and not having been able to see her the past couple of weeks has been harder than I thought. Wishing I could be with her and at least hold her hand through this horrid time. I keep thinking about how I'm failing her by not being by her side and it honestly feels like I'm screaming into a void of emptiness and it's starting to swallow me whole. Holding back tears I try and remind myself that I'm doing this for her no matter how hard it is. Once I'm done with hair and Makeup I head towards the set, push down all former emotions, and plaster on that award-winning Hollywood smile and poised look I'm known for having.

After a long day of shooting, I can say I'm very happy to be out of those hot Western clothes especially since it's a surprisingly humid Tuesday in California. On my way out of the studio, I say my goodbyes my smile is not very forced anymore since I could just go home, check on my mother, and then relax before starting all over again. As I reach my car I hear someone call out my name causing me to turn around but seeing who it was made a smile hit my lips and I lean on the car while he gets closer. " Hey, Cooper... did you need anything?".  

He had a slight jog in his step and once he reached me his smile turned wider and he gave me a quick up and down. Sliding one hand in his pocket he pulls out a cigarette case and lighter putting the bud of the cig to his lips with a flick of his thumb light he puts both the case and lighter in the chest pocket of his black suit." Yes I do actually... your number i hate that we lost contact and well isn't this a perfect time to catch up". Hearing him I feel a little shocked and I can't help but think it's not a perfect time for anything in my life and it takes me a few seconds longer than normal to answer.

Noticing the hesitance on my face Cooper makes a face of his own one that almost resembled disappointment or at least that's what it looked like to me so before he could say anything I did. " I wouldn't mind that". Just like that we were exchanging numbers and saying our goodbyes and once I got home I thought about the day I had. Thought about Cooper way more than I'm willing to admit and after doing it for longer than seemed sane. I called my mom we talked for a few hours before I turned in for the night my dreams filled with nothing but stars.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

HOPE YOU ALL ENJOYED SAVE A HORSE RIDE A COWBOY AND ALL THAT JAZZ!!!!!

DON'T STEAL MY WORK IF YOU REPOST TAG ME!!! thanks.

Thanks for reading from Squish<3

[theroyalsims]

IBRAHIM “PEEVED”

The Earl of Harvelle, a.k.a Ibrahim, a.k.a. Countess Eleanore’s husband, a.k.a. the former Crown Prince of Al-Simhara is said to be displeased at his non-role in the Royal family. 

Multiple sources claim that Ibrahim is quite displeased with how he and his wife are being treated within the royal family. His biggest source of annoyance these days, is reportedly seeing "certain people" being placed well ahead and above him, when clearly, as a former Crown Prince, his track record shows that he’s more than capable to represent the Crown In a more official capacity. 

Royal watchers were quick to conclude that the “certain people” referred to is none other than Prince Gus. It can be recalled that prior to marrying Anya, Gus was made a Knight of the Realm. He was later officially made a Prince of Brindleton by HM. And a few months ago, it was announced that he has been given his first set of royal patronages by The Queen. 

Perhaps adding insult to injury, earlier last month, Prince Gus was invited by Prince Alistair, along with Prince Nicky, on a major project.

The insider also reveals that Ibrahim is reportedly "insulted" by the low title gifted to them by the Queen:

"He was a future King, but now, all he has is a small cottage in the country and a useless, lowly title. He thinks being called the Earl of Harvelle is both an insult and a joke, and he'd really rather be address by his name. He's convinced that someone of his former status deserves, at the very least, a dukedom, especially considering that the son of a train conductor and a gift shop clerk was made both a knight and a prince of the realm."

The rumoured jealousy emanating from the Earl has become a hot topic online. One commenter wrote:

“Who says guys can’t be petty! Ibby, you gotta try harder, babe. You think you being sneaky, not naming names when we all know you talkin ‘bout Prince Gus-Gus! The timing is OFFFFFF! We just know Ibby’s GREEEN with ENVYYYYY! LOVE TO SEE IT!

Another royal watcher remarked:

"Ibrahim being a petty little diva just goes to show that he and Eleanore DO belong together! I pity little Ella who has to grow up with two narcissists."

Palace insiders, however, are said to be left confused by Ibrahim’s frustrations. A well-placed palace source reveals:

“We honestly don’t know where this is coming from because the entire situation - their marriage, their place in the family - were thoroughly explained to them by The Queen herself before they tied the knot. It was agreed that they will remain to be private citizens, and and their children will not be in the line of succession. They were also clearly informed that any titles given to them by HM shall be taken on in an honorary capacity, and that they will not, in any way, be representing the Crown. At that time, they were very understanding and were very grateful for HM and the royals’ acceptance of their union. Now, things have changed, and Ibrahim is no longer happy.”

Could the rise of Prince Gus in ranks have been the reason for Ibrahim’s sudden displeasure? We kinda see how it may be a little upsetting for a former Crown Prince who now has to bow to a commoner-turned-future consort, but ultimately, it was his decision to leave his life in Al-Simhara behind to build a life with Eleanore here in Brindleton. Is he regretting that, too?

[dilly-dahlia]

@plutoonwheels this post is for you because you wanted to know about my divine warriors inspired novel

i have a very small amount of things figured out but here’s some basics for it

so it’s gonna be told from all of their perspectives, and it’s gonna run from when they were humans to when they “disbanded” as the Divine Warriors and like, died. so. something i have going is that the continent is like Pangea was, and then once’s the warriors start having their disputes it splits into their respective regions (ie. Ru’aun, Tu’la, Gal’ruk, etc)

anyways one of the first things i’m doing is name changes so i don’t get sued (obviously. though, i haven’t decided if i’m gonna keep like their titles like ‘the Matron’ ‘the Keeper’ etc) most of them are still very work in progress and tbh i don’t even have a name for shad so 💀 anyways here they are

Irene the Matron: Serena is the only runner up i have but idk if i like it oh well it’s a placeholder for now (like most of these names are)

Shad the Destroyer: nothing. nothing sounds good enough. if y’all have ideas like… lmk

Kul’zak the Wanderer: Cyrus. it just seems very… idk. i feel like it fits for the sort of role i have him in

Enki the Keeper: Aspen??? i feel like it’s super on the nose for him tho and idk if i like that but i like Aspen 😕

Esmund the Protector: Ezra. the singular one i will not be changing

Menphia the Fury: Seraphina and Sloane were two that I really liked, but i’m leaning more towards Sloane because I feel like there’s already an iconic angry character named Seraphina??? cannot for the life of me remember what from though

i still have it to where they’re the only ones with any sort of magic at the time of their living, and they all have like different kinds of magic. but I haven’t het figured out how that magic spread to other people as well. hm

anyways. i kept some of their backstories the same. actually I think Shad and Irene were the only ones with proper backstories. anyways. background for them:

so Menphia is a very skilled hunter, very survivalist. all of her senses are heightened, she’s incredibly quick and agile and stealthy, and she has a very powerful gut feeling at times. she also physically looks like an animal (i haven’t decided which one, but i’m thinking feline since in mcd tu’la is her region) so she kind of got shunned. she was able to deal with it for the most part until one day inciting incident happens (don’t ask me what it is, i don’t know) and she’s forced to run away from her village and be on her own. this sort of places her in the same boat as Shad

Enki is from a very cold region of the continent (later the Gal’ruk region). so this part of the earth has EXTREMELY harsh winters and hardly any warmer summers, so it’s very hard to survive there. harvest is always pathetic and so many people die every year from starvation, hypothermia, some random animal, whatever. so when Enki was a child he discovered that he could actually grow plants and make the soil better for growing different things. basically he has like an agricultural power and as a result he keeps the village alive by making everyone storable food. even at his young age he’s put in charge of food rations and village trade, and overall Enki is very praised for his magic. (i haven’t decided what else he has though)

so Esmund is like a prophet. hes not like a super good one, and he only gets brief visions and gut feelings that are right luke 74% of the time. honestly i made it to where he makes himself a matchmaker/couples counselor of sorts for some reason?? idk i just feel like he’d be the kind of guy to look at two people and be like “oh yeah. they’re soulmates” yk. idk, his whole thing is still very much a work in progress, one of the big things i want for him though is to be unhappy and unsatisfied with his life and wishing he could do more. he is also a very big guy so he has like super strength and stuff

okay, Kul’zak and Irene are both from Scaleswind. in this little “rewrite” Irene didn’t found Scaleswind, it was just the small province she lived in. it did however prosper tremendously under guidance.

Shad’s backstory in mine is basically identical to what Jess had it as. i haven’t decided whether or not i’m gonna change it, for now i’m keeping it just cause i like the dynamic for him. the dynamic being someone that wants to help but only messes things up. so he like goes on the run and figures the best way to help is to become a ghost essentially, so he spends most of his life in the woods alone

but this isn’t about her rn, we’re talking about Kul’zak. so he’s a father figure to Irene and significantly older than her. he’s the only other person his fellow citizens have seen harness magic so it’s rumored that he’s Irene’s biological father (he’s not). but the fact that Irene and Kul’zak have such a close familial relationship doesn’t help either. but anyways, I haven’t figured out any solid powers for Kul’zak, but I haven’t decided that he ends up being a father figure to all of the Divine. he is also incredibly intelligent and has a natural curiosity for literally everything

okay, and then finally Irene. so like in canon she has healing powers. she’s praised for this throughout the village of Scaleswind because it comes in handy often. eventually her healing powers get known throughout the land and slowly more and more people start settling in Scaleswind. eventually it becomes too big for the people to govern themselves, so they elect Irene to have reign over them. she reluctantly agrees because she just wants to help them and then yeah, she becomes leader of Scaleswind

so the way they all come together. Shad comes first, and he just happens upon Irene while she’s trying to temporarily get away from her duties. they start talking, Irene finds out he has magic and she leads him back to Kul’zak, who helps Shad hone and control his powers.

the other three hear word of a magics user coming into power of a village and get intrigued because they’ve never heard of anyone else that has magic besides themselves. so to investigate, they all (separately ofc) journey to Scaleswind to meet this woman who has magic and learn that there’s actually five others like them

Irene is ecstatic to meet other people like her, and after a bit of knowing them and after she officially becomes the Lord of Scaleswind, Irene dubs Esmund, Enki, Menphia and Shad as her guards, and Kul’zak is her advisor. and being all together, the six of them discover that their magic and powers actually get stronger

that’s all i have so far! if anyone has any little ideas they want to add on go for it! but like i said this is for like a genuine novel i’m trying to write so i’m also making it my own and tbh it might end up entirely different than the source material

[magicalbats]

Penance (Suguru x Reader)

Rating: R-18+

Word Count: 8962

Warnings: afab!reader, hamfisted religious themes, rimming, ass eating as punishment, themes of humiliation/degradation/ objectification, some gendered language, reader is not privileged with an orgasm (rip)

A/N: I spent some time going through my WIPs tonight and after giving this one a quick proof read I decided to just go ahead and post it. I have, no joke, been sitting on it since 2021. lmao I think it might be time.

⭐

“That’s a rather sharp tongue you’ve got, isn’t it?” Suguru’s voice is soft and pointed, all understated elegance and quiet laughter that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. He extends one long hand towards you; curls the fingers under your chin and tilts your face up with a deceptively gentle nudge so you have no choice but to look directly at him. 

There is nothing soft about the expression staring back at you, even for as placid as it is. The tension pulling at the corner of his mouth gives his small smile a razor's edge, so indescribably minuscule you would have missed it had you not been sitting so close and that was to say absolutely nothing of the forged steel glint in his dark irises. It was funny, almost. That he should accuse you of having a sharp tongue when he was all carefully filed edges and beautifully cast steel that had survived hundreds of blazing infernos just to become the living embodiment of an executioner's sword looming over you in the here and now. 

He was the judge, the jury and the butcher all wrapped into one neat, perfectly coiffed package with a smile and a kind word to spare, and you would have followed him to any stretch of this world or the next for even a sliver of that double edged approval. Even knowing the danger he posed to you and everyone like you, his subtle threats so politely concealed yet plain as day to anyone who paid enough attention. Even knowing how lethal his very existence was, you would still willfully lay yourself across that altar and fulfill your role as the sacrificial lamb he always seemed to be searching for. 

No, not in spite of it. 

Because of it. 

Faintly humming as if in thought, he turns your face this way and that, still with the tips of his fingers touching the spot under your chin just so. It’s a featherlight mockery of suggestion rather than outright demand but you obediently follow the motion as if there were magnets stuck in your skin, guiding you where his hand was not. Silently, you beg the blood that pounds wildly in your ears to subside so you can hang onto every word that drips from his poisoned mouth unhindered. 

“You know … I’m inclined to say it’s not very ladylike, especially for someone of your impeccable breeding, but. Well.” A pause while he studies your profile in silent contemplation before finally directing your attention back around with a brief, lingering tap that makes you swallow. “I suppose it’s not entirely without its charm. That being said, I do believe there are some better uses we could put it to that don’t involve lashing out at others, hm? Wouldn’t you agree?” 

You shrivel under his guillotine stare as well as the sweetly posed question that seems to cut you straight to the bone. It makes you wither like a once succulent rose that had been cruelly denied sunlight and water, and air itself with which to survive. This was not the way someone should be speaking to a grown woman. Neither was this the way a grown woman should allow herself to be spoken to. It was condescension in its purest, most vile form - or, at least, you’re quite certain that’s what it is. 

Suguru’s kind, agreeable demeanor and his honeyed tone of voice make it hard to tell sometimes. The stark contrast between one and the other and the next leaves you reeling; intoxicated beyond all measure off nothing more than just his mere presence and its bold study in broad strokes of contradiction. You were regretfully helpless before it though. Eager to have those arsenic dipped words aimed at you for the vindicating thrill of it as much as you shied away from it, fearing their burning sting. 

“I’m sorry …” It’s all you can think to say. 

His expression shifts and the threadbare tension fades. But rather than softening at your mouse squeak apology it only grows sharper with the hard lines of put upon pity that slither across his face like a stretching, clawing shadow. It comes in the form of a stilted upward draw of his brows to accompany the cooing pucker of damnably kissable lips. If you didn’t know any better you could almost convince yourself that he was looking upon a contemptible stray or a particularly unfortunate child rather than at you. Certainly not you, with all your money and the posh upbringing you’d enjoyed by virtue of your well to-do parents and their considerable sway in the world of politics. Your top rated education, your impressive track record of boyfriends, each more affluent than the last. The shiny new car you’d abandoned in favor of coming here right along with everything else from your past life, even the expensive jewelry you were in the habit of buying for yourself just because. 

These were the things that made people look at you in envy, not ignominious disregard. No one had ever stared you down quite like this before and that, too, makes you wither from the inside out as much as it has your gut twisting with a surge of molten heat. This was not the way a grown woman of your social standing was supposed to react to being degraded, verbally or otherwise. You knew that as much as you knew the back of your own hand. But you only lean towards him as if seeking out the warmth of the sun you’d been so long denied rather than scuttling away as you probably should have. 

Would have, if you were only just a little bit smarter. 

“I’m sorry.” You say it again, feeling like you owed him that and so much more. 

“Whatever do you have to apologize for, love? I said it wasn’t without its charm, didn’t I?” 

Tilting his head, Suguru gives your chin another soft tap as if to encourage you but it has the opposite effect of making your bottom lip warble. Something white hot and steely flashes behind his eyes, and he tips closer until the end of his nose stops just short of touching yours. Those long fingers remain a steady, unforgiving knife on your jugular throughout it all. 

“Oh, but don’t fret now. There’s no reason for tears, is there? You’re still my good girl, aren’t you?” 

You wonder, idly, if this is some kind of trap. 

In the same breath you decide that this is most certainly a trap. No doubt about it, but you find yourself sadly nodding along with him all the same. He pulls you into it, guides the motion out of you just as a master puppeteer might manipulate his hollow wooden dolls, and you’re happy to go along with it, as with anything else, so long as he keeps looking at you like that. 

“I know, darling. I know you are. You try your best to be good, don’t you? That mouth of yours is what gets you into trouble, isn’t it?”

Another nod, and this time you can’t seem to stop the tears from tracking hot streaks down your burning face. You were flushed in shame and something not far off from excitement, equally torn between the two. Uncertain if you should preen under the blazing spotlight of his attention, as natural inclination would dictate, or the groveling, desperate urge in your higher functioning mind to rectify your mistakes so he wouldn’t be upset with you anymore.

The latter wins out quickly enough. It always does, particularly when his sugar coated reprimands make you feel so infantile and pathetic. Just as small and meaningless as a chewed up wad of gum stuck to the sidewalk. You were willing to do anything to earn your spot back in his good graces again. Anything. 

Clearly seeing what he was looking for now, Suguru’s smile slides back into place with a staggeringly slow curl across the line of his mouth. It’s somehow even sharper this time, and you’re almost blinded by the glint of a blade bathed in sunlight. 

“There, there. I understand. Really, I do. Your tongue just doesn’t know any better, does it?” 

You suck in a wet, faltering breath. “No …” 

His lashes droop to an almost seductive half lidded state, promising the absolution of eternal rest as much as the dizzying, unspeakable heights of carnal pleasure he could bring you. Drawing a carefully tempered breath that seems to steal the air from your lungs, he slides his hand out from under your chin and reaches up to wipe the tears off one cheek with a lingering swipe of his thumb. He pauses then, for just a moment, while he studies your face before sedately reaching around to repeat the process on the other side. 

“Don’t you think we should give it something more productive to do then?” 

It's barely more than a whisper, intended for your ears only in an otherwise empty, cavernous, sparsely furnished room that was so horribly still and quiet you would almost believe only the dead walked here. 

And you shudder for him - tremble and shake like some small, frightened creature caught under the talons of an incomprehensibly vicious monster. There was close to nothing you would not do for him, no humiliation you wouldn’t endure for his sake and his sake alone. You’d happily let him make an example out of you and mould you into the idyllic martyr he seemed to want so bad. It was a blessing coming from him, and you warm with the rush of helium in your chest that swells at being chosen by the god of sharp edges and black silk. 

“Please tell me what to do, Geto-sama. Please.” 

“Hush,” He mouths the word like a prayer. “I have just the thing in mind. You’ll do it for me, won’t you?”

“Yes. Anything.” That was very much the truth. 

A pleased exhale from him teases the flyaways in your hair and Suguru’s hand retreats, making you whimper at the loss of contact. Instinctively you try to follow, tipping forward on your knees so far that you almost lose balance, but he only pins you with an amused look of warning as he reclines back against his plush throne of pillows. Still so sharp and jagged, even at ease, and you watch him get settled in rapt fascination, unsure what he would have of you. 

You were eager to learn though, and the serrated glint in his eye never strays from your face, ensuring you don’t look away as he reaches down to grab at the bulk of his robe and tug at it. Pulls the heavy fabric up, up, up with a quiet slither and an almost coquettish flourish to accompany it. 

Slowly, more and more of him is revealed to your voracious gaze — much more than you would have ever dreamed yourself worthy of looking upon — and your throat goes bone dry when you realize he’s much more sturdy than the shapeless robe would have had you believe. Almost sickeningly so, and the unbearable heat that spears through you almost bowls you over on the spot. 

Nicely shaped calves that speak of an active life outside this temple, outside of this role he's taken here on these hallowed grounds, lead the way up to a pair of well defined thighs, beautiful in their muscle heavy composition. It’s perfectly scandalous in its own right to have him baring himself at you like this but he doesn’t stop there and instead drags one corner of the garment even higher, teasing you with a glimpse of his smooth hip. The realization that he’s not wearing anything underneath makes you sway on the spot, well and truly lightheaded now. 

“G - Geto-sama, I - -“ 

“What’s the matter, love?” He cuts across you in a tone that hits its mark like the lethal swing of a battle sword, rendering you immediately and irreparably mute. “I’m certain you just said you would do anything. Or was I mistaken?” 

You hesitate. 

You clench your clammy hands into tight fists. 

You don’t know what to do, how to react. What to say. 

The world itself seems to stand still as you surreptitiously glance at the spot between his legs with brazen, boldfaced interest, unable to conceal it even if you tried. That part of him is still obscured by the pool of fabric gathered in his lap, however, and he laughs at the eager look of apprehension in your expression. Light and airy, and so horribly cruel you feel the prick of fresh tears in your eyes again. 

“Not that, I’m afraid. That’s only for good girls who don’t need to have their behavior corrected. You really should know that by now.”

You feel the hurt of that deep in your bones and it leaves behind a throbbing ache as if he’d ruthlessly brought a harsh leather strap down across your back. He may as well have done just that for as much anguish it causes, how cleanly it slices despite his voice maintaining its ever pleasant intonation, and you implore him with a wet, wide eyed look. If not that then what? 

But Suguru only inclines his chin in lieu of a proper response, inviting you to keep your eyes on him. To keep watching as he decorously turns over onto his side and then further over onto his front with the topmost leg splaying out from his body at a wide arch. He cranes his neck around to look back at you over his shoulder then, and you suddenly forget how to breathe. 

Both because you’d never seen him look at anyone with the same tawdry, undeniably flirtatious little smirk that he gives you and because your scrambled brain was already starting to connect the dots. You weren’t stupid. You may have been willfully, happily dumb and malleable for him but you weren’t stupid, once you got right down to it, and yet you can’t find the presence of mind to protest. Nor do you manage the wherewithal needed to argue against what you already knew was coming. Your heartbeat pounds a wild rhythm against your rib cage, threatening to burst right out of you as he brings his hand down to hike the back of his robe up in similar fashion to the front, teasing you with it. 

The curvy backs of his thighs are just as enticing and you voraciously soak them up, admiring the smooth, flawlessly warm tone of his skin while you let them draw your attention straight up to the meat of his ass. It’s tight and narrow, as most men’s are, but unexpectedly soft looking in texture. Just plump enough to offer something to squeeze and hold on to. It gives the impression of being the only part of his body with any real cushion, completely lacking in any of the sharp angles you see in his face and his hands. 

You swallow so hard you audibly choke on it. 

Even having already surmised what his intention was, you still struggle to wrap your head around the reality of it staring back at you. The embarrassment is felt almost as sharply as the humiliation, but neither quite compare to the nauseating spike of arousal that rips through you with all the destructive force of a lightning strike to wreak havoc on you from head to toe. You were far more horrified by that than of what he was offering you. What he was asking you to do, and your lungs painfully hitch with the ragged breath you suck in. 

Your willingness to do it was one thing. Something you could easily overlook as being for his sake. His benefit. His enjoyment. There was no low you weren’t prepared to degrade yourself to as long as it was for him. Always him. But to derive genuine pleasure from an act so demeaning? So inherently disrespectful to you as a woman, and also as a person. As a fellow human being. What was so wrong with you, on a fundamental level, that even such as this would turn you on? 

But, you remind yourself, Suguru was not so much a man as he was a god. Something that existed far above the banalities of humanity no matter how polite or agreeable he might look. 

And he exudes all that and so much more even as he reaches around to smooth a big hand over the swell of one cheek, digging his fingertips in just enough for you to see the dimples it creates in the skin. Showing you exactly how right you’d been about it’s plushy give and further mortifying you in the process. You never would have guessed his build to be this stocky when the usual robes he donned hung so loose and unassuming around him, thoroughly concealing his figure from prying eyes such as yours, but you were sure to never forget now that you’d borne witness to it yourself. The shape of him was forever burned into the backs of your eyelids like a brand. At the very least you were sure to never again know a restful night's sleep for however long you might live. 

“Come now, darling. You won’t get anything done sitting over there, will you?” He purrs, his sly smirk growing when you only sit there, frozen to the spot. A marble statue prostrated at the foot of his altar. “Or have I asked too much of you, hm?” 

Mechanically, you drag your attention up to his face and Suguru immediately chortles at the vacancy staring back at him. 

“My, could it be you simply don’t understand? Shall I spell it out for you then?” 

Your stomach and your pussy both clench in tandem when he purses his lips, cooing at you again, just like before. Belittling condescension oozes from every pore in his body as he tips his head further back, resembling a playful pinup model spread out for a particularly risqué photo shoot and your gaze quickly drops back down to zero in on the savory way he cups his own ass. With a stilted sigh of anticipation he pulls, dragging one cheek from the other until you’re afforded a straight, uninterrupted view of the tight wrinkle of his hole, the gentle curve of his taint directly below it and the silken weight of his ballsack where it’s settled against the cushions. You can’t see his cock like this — can’t tell if he’s hard or flaccid, and you aren’t sure which would have been better worse — but you practically swoon at the thought of it being trapped between his stomach and the pillows he’d laid himself out on. 

He clearly sees the disoriented look of shock on your face yet he pays it no mind. Doesn’t give you a chance to recover, to get your thoughts sorted out as he shifts and draws his splayed knee higher up on the floor. Keeps his body spread open for you when he curls his hand inward and directs your frazzled attention to the pink pucker with a light, almost playful tap of his fingertips. 

“Right here.” He tells you, all sultry smooth and eternally damning. “Your tongue will do quite nicely, I think. It’s certainly better suited to this than starting pointless arguments, anyway.” 

You think he’s probably right about that. He has to be, because he’s Geto Suguru. The man you’ve decided to follow until death do you part, the very light of your life. The apple of your eye. The fire that burns and smolders, even now, in the deepest, darkest recesses of your curling loins. There’s no way someone such as him, with all his hard edges and jagged points thinly concealed under the serene placidity of the Buddha himself — surely someone like that can’t be wrong about anything but least of all this. 

Your arousal, too, cannot be wrong for that reason alone, so you numbly shuffle forward. Drag yourself across the tatami to close the small distance which suddenly feels like a great chasm separating you from him. And Suguru watches on with an inferno that threatens to set you ablaze raging behind his dark irises. You can see the suspense, the twisted excitement curling just under the surface as if it were a living, breathing, all too tangible serpent housed under his skin. So real you could almost reach out and touch it, if you dared. 

You don’t, of course. Not only because you knew better than to be so presumptuous, unworthy as you were, but particularly not after he’d already presented you with your task. A trial to endure in the name of forgiveness. Your penance for saying cruel things to one of the other girls in the congregation out of jealousy and spite. Angry that she might have caught his eye a little too much when you were right there, so much more deserving of his attention than she was. Especially when you were so very unaccustomed to not getting your way. It was an ugly thing, and you knew you’d earned this. 

Suguru may have had a propensity for being cruel in a subtle, needle-pinprick sort of way but he was never, ever unjust. 

Going to your hands and knees now, you lean over his prone body with a strange sense of detached excitement so you can regard him up close. His skin truly is flawless, warm and smooth with sparse curling hair to frame the soft colored hole nestled between his shapely cheeks. He smelled good, too. Like soap and detergent, and the faintest undercurrent of masculine musk that goes straight to your brain, sparking something inside you that makes your cunt squeeze around nothing. There’s no hesitation to do it and he must see that because his smirk inexplicably sharpens, looking like something you could well and truly cut yourself on — but when you swoop down to shove your face into the cradle of his body he stops you with a firm hand abruptly smacked to your forehead. 

Left reeling and disoriented, you allow him to push you back just a smidge. The wry twinkle you find in his gaze when you glance up at him makes you flush red hot, as embarrassed as you are castigated by the gesture. “I - I’m sorry - -“

“Now, now. There’s no rush, is there?” Simpering at you, he drags the tips of his fingers over your temple and down the side of your face so he can deliver a light, mocking tap to the underside of your chin. “You should savor it. Enjoy it. Unless you don’t want to, that is?” 

You shake your head so fast it makes you dizzy. “No, I do! I want to, Geto-sama! Really!” 

The sound he noises is not unlike a purr, and you gratefully lean into the warmth of his hand when he reaches back and curls those long fingers around the curve of your skull so he can pull you back in. “Good. Then take it nice and slow, just like that …”

Under his steady guidance, you lean down much more tentatively than the first time and let him press you into the meat of his ass where you deliver a soft, fleeting kiss to the skin. Suguru hums in appreciative approval at your acquiescence but continues to hold you so you don’t hurry it. So you don’t dive in like some kind of animal. 

Shame at your own behavior chokes you up and you suck in a wet, faltering breath even as you softly peck at the swell of flesh, distantly noting how warm he is as well as the taste of salt on his skin. 

The tickle of fine peach fuzz under your lips and the incomprehensibly pleasant smell that you can taste on the back of your tongue. It’s overwhelmingly easy to get lost in him like this, the act itself far more gratifying than you would have ever thought something such as this could be. Even for all your blind idolization towards the man laid out underneath you, holding you close with your face shoved up against his ass, you still hadn’t expected to feel quite so much satisfaction just from kissing his body. It was all you’d wanted in recent memory, yearning for nothing more than a chance to worship him as you were so certain he deserved to be worshipped, and yet you were still taken aback by it. 

And how could you not be when you were so intimately close, indulging the sort of physical touch you’d never been permitted to share with him until now? You’d fantasized about this — something like this, plenty of times in the past. Rubbed your clit raw and soaked through your panties more frequently than you could even count while you steadily drove yourself mad with wanting. It’s no wonder then that you were so willing to demean yourself when it meant getting the chance to actually touch him like this. The real him, and not the Geto Suguru that exists only in your mind. 

Your pussy gives a muted throb at the soar of vindication that suddenly tears through you, coating the seat of your underwear in sticky slick even as you lean into your work and press so tight against his flesh that it becomes hard to breathe. And of course Suguru allows it, softly cooing at you just as a priest offering comfort to the broken, desperate sinner at death's door might. It sounds like salvation in your ringing ears but you knew it was in all reality the whisper of eternal damnation. The abrasive shuffle of the hangman’s noose around your neck, or perhaps last rites read moments before the swing of the executioner's axe. 

But if this is how you were to die then you would go happily, merrily to that chopping block. 

“Mmm  … that’s it, darling. Nice and easy for me. Haste isn’t going to get you anywhere, now is it?” 

You shake your head with a muffled sound of agreement, basking in the warmth of his skin against yours while you listen to Suguru’s honey dipped voice filter over you. It’s reminiscent of a comfortingly warm mist against your flesh and in your ears. It was the one and only constant in your cotton stuffed head which couldn’t decide what, if anything, it should focus on above all the rest and you desperately latch onto it in search of direction. Cling to it for guidance, and heed its call to you on an exigent summons that you wouldn’t have been able to ignore even if you’d wanted to. 

It was making you crazy. 

He was making you crazy. 

Opening your mouth wide, you eagerly nibble and suck at his skin with rapidly growing urgency, desperate to feel more of him against you. Desperate to take more of him inside of you. He tastes so good, so good, that you can’t even think straight anymore now that you have the flavor of him marinating on your tongue. Your internal frenzy steadily grows while you try to feast on the communion of his body in earnest until he finally reaches down to deliver a sharp flick to your forehead, making you hiss.

“No marks.” 

Blinking back the sting of tears, you let up on the meaty swell of his cheek in favor of kissing the reddened spot you’ve left behind. It’s not enough to bruise, probably; but still regretfully noticeable, and you purse your lips against it in apologetic reverence. You should have known better. Should have asked before doing something of your own volition without his direct order to do it first. The weight of this newest transgression pulls an emotional sniffle out of you, and he mockingly chuckles in response to the sound. 

“How cute. You want to taste me that badly? I didn’t expect you to be this enthusiastic, sweetheart.” 

You nod, dragging your cheek across his plushy ass, making it pudge under the pressure of your face even as a slow trickling tear dribbles from the corner of your eye. It follows the same line already tracked by the ones that came before it but, rather than finding your chin where it could drip off onto the floor, it spills over where your skin meets his and pools between the two of you. 

Softly, Suguru clicks his tongue at the sensation so you lift your head enough to lick it off of him in apology. The bitter salt is repugnant compared to the subtle, almost airy flavors of his body and you draw a faltering breath as you sedately work your way over the swell of his ass cheek one kitten lick at a time, working your way inward. 

He sighs, ever so softly, while you do it. Relaxes the pressure of his hand on the back of your head in favor of absently caressing his long fingers over your hair, teasing strays and flyaways. The tiny baby hairs on the nape of your neck. This unexpectedly tender touch from him, your savior and executioner wrapped into one, has you shuddering over him, wracked with the relief that comes with his forgiveness. You still had work to do. Still had a much deserved penance to complete, but with his guidance you were on the right path to salvation again. 

Carefully, you kiss a hot trail over the curve of his buttocks and start to work your way down. Nudge yourself even closer so you can lean into him and at last dip your face into the crevice of his body. The lingering scent of soap and male musk grows stronger like this, not at all unpleasant but so incredibly heady that it seems to rush straight to your cunt. You pointedly choose to ignore that though, and instead nuzzle your nose into the space between his cheeks, teasing the puckered hole within. A subdued shiver races through him, slight enough that you wouldn’t have noticed it had you not been pressed in so tight against him. He doesn’t move to stop you though and merely curls his finger around a loose strand of hair on your head as if something like this was a casual encounter, not one that was of any particular concern to him. Nothing to get excited or hasty about. A leisurely pastime he indulged in from time to time, frequently enough that it didn’t demand his full attention and yet not so commonplace that he was bored with it. 

Idly, you wonder who else among the congregants has been blessed with this particular gift. 

Spurned on, you press your face in close and deliver a lingering kiss to the center of his asshole. It weakly twitches under the contact, clenching and then unclenching in a mockery of a reciprocal kiss, returning the favor, and you do it again with a quiet groan. Sink into him until you can scarcely breathe but that is hardly of any consequence to you at this point. Suffocating in him like this did not seem so bad a fate — it was one you would have gladly welcomed, in fact. 

Taking your time with it, you slowly peck your way down the gentle slope of his taint and press your tongue flat against the seam, dragging your mouth up until you feel the wrinkled dip pass under it. You do it again and then again, slobbering all over him with slow, savory licks that come back tasting of salt and copper. His skin is so soft and smooth here, and mostly hairless save a few wispy strands that tickle your lips in silent reminder that what you were doing was by all accounts dirty. Certainly not the sort of degrading act someone of your social standing should be subjecting herself to. 

But you hold a deep, overwhelming love for him in your heart, one that trumps all sense of dignity you may have otherwise possessed. The quiet sigh he eventually issues into the still air only further encourages you to keep going. 

Pausing when your tongue next passes over the center of his hole, you worm it forward to poke and prod at the tight entrance. Circle the rim with just the tip until it relaxes against the wet pressure of your mouth so you can dip inside far enough to truly taste him. Your eyes roll back at the heady flavor and you quickly seal your lips around him, alternating between sucking and licking in order to loosen him up more. You wanted to shove your tongue inside of him as far as it would go, but you couldn’t do that when his body was still so tight. 

Suguru hisses faintly at the suction and untangles his hand from your hair, bringing it down so he can dig the fingers into his topmost cheek. He pulls at it, opening himself up to you. Grants you access to the depths of his person, and you eagerly take the chance to wiggle your tongue inside again, reaching deeper than before. His hips give a little jerk at the sensation before subtly angling upward, tipping towards your face. 

“Mmm, that’s it, darling. Just like that …”

Your breath puffs out of you in a ragged exhale, stuttering and clipped. It’s not hard to tell that your panties are soaked at this point and they wetly cling to you as you burrow deeper into the crevice of his ass with a muted shake of your head. You’re already as close as you can get but that doesn’t stop you from trying, even when your nose registers discomfort at the pressure. You can’t stop though. You’re mad with it, this powerful need to crawl inside of him, if only you could. If only it were possible. 

Groaning at the wild squirming of your tongue, he slowly eases up his hold on the meaty swell of his ass and finally rolls the rest of the way over onto his stomach. Barely audible huffs of pleasure reach your ears now, reverberating inside your skull like the sweetest melody of wind chimes to lull you deeper into your trance. The change of position opens him up further to you, you’re delighted to find, and it is with a great deal of satisfaction that you worm your tongue into that clenching passage where you can finally — finally! Massage at his insides to your pounding hearts content. 

“I knew you were well suited to this task,” He murmurs, breathy and distant. Distracted. “Your mouth was made for this, wasn’t it?” 

You noise a muffled sound of agreement, dizzy and lightheaded. Feeling faint with the weight of it all, but especially the significance behind this act of service and the sharp stab of humiliation that comes with it. Degrading though it may be, you’d never felt closer to this man who presented you with salvation in one hand and damnation in the other. You were practically soaring with it, and that sensation only increases, doubles down, when he pushes back on you in encouragement. 

The lower half of your face is a mess of dribbling saliva, cool and sticky on your red hot skin, but you stamp down the urge to reach up and wipe it away. Instead, you lean somehow further into him, meet the not so subtle roll of his hips, and it doesn’t take long for the two of you to fall into an easy rhythm like this. Rocking together in near perfect unison for a prolonged beat until he seems to grow impatient, pushing himself against you more insistently no matter how you work him over with your tongue. The thought that you weren’t doing a good enough job brings with it a sharp twinge in your chest, so you quickly follow him up when he  at last pushes up to his knees with a disgruntled huff. 

Positioned like this with his ass jutted upward makes it a little easier to tongue fuck him, his passage relaxing open with the pulse of a muscle spasm that shudders through him. You suck in a wet, gasping breath of air as you enthusiastically gum at him with your lips, noting in a far off, dreamy sort of way that the rim of his hole has become more puckered and raised over the last few minutes. It seems to welcome the soft plunge of your tongue now, greedily swallowing it up each time you dip it inside of him. The slow rise of pleasured groans coming from his mouth attests to the fact that he was enjoying this, assuring you and emboldening you at the same time. You wanted to make him feel good more than anything else in that moment — needed him to feel good — and it is with a great deal of pleasure that you let Suguru drag his ass across your face with a subdued twist of his pelvis, smearing you with sticky spit in the process. 

“Nnghn … yes, darling, yes. Keep that up and you’re going to make me cum … you’d like that, wouldn’t you? Ahnn - a reward for all your hard work, hm?” 

The thought alone is enough to make your whole body seize, pussy clamping tight around nothing so violently that you actually sway on your hands and knees. It was too much. You’d fantasized about just that, about making him shoot hot ropes down your throat more times than you could conceivably count, but you hadn’t thought you’d ever get the chance. It was too good to be true. A once in a lifetime opportunity if there ever was one. 

You’re punch drunk on it as you slip your tongue out of his hole and enthusiastically circle the puffy rim with broad, flat strokes before tracing a wet path down his taint. You pause long enough to deliver a smacking kiss to it before leaning further down, intent on doing the same to his hanging ballsack, but he stops you with a pointed shove of his ass. 

“Stay focused, my love. I already told you where your mouth belongs. Do not overstep my patience with you a second time in one day.” 

Appropriately chastised by that warning, you hurriedly direct your attention back to his waiting hole. He lets out a pleased sigh when you get back to work, lapping at him with renewed vigor and just a pinch of emboldened audacity, but it seems to sufficiently placate him. 

It doesn’t take long for Suguru to relax into it again and he sedately rocks his hips back into the warmth of your mouth, all but basking in the sensation now. You’re glad for it, for his infinitely forgiving nature and his proclivity for giving second, third, even fourth chances to those that loyally followed him. Were he not so kind and magnanimous you probably would have found yourself kicked to the curb long ago. Were he not so understanding of your shortcomings as a mere mortal before his godlike presence you would have surely found yourself booted from the temple, never to return or be seen ever again. 

There was a kindness in his cruelty and you’re reminded of that when he pushes against you, going up on his hands now so he can properly grind himself on your face. You welcome it. Revel in it as you fuck your tongue into him again, delighting in the easy slide of it along his throbbing passage. You had him so obscenely coated in slick that you were sure the insertion of a finger would be a seamless one, but you don’t dare try it. Not without his permission first. Not without the risk of incurring further ire from him and, as if he can sense your thoughts, he twists around to look back at you. 

“Mmm, I’m getting close now … lie back for me, won’t you?” 

You freeze at that, a million questions running through your head all at once, but you give none of them voice as you slowly peel your mouth off him. This time you can’t stop yourself from reaching up to swipe at your wet chin even though it does very little in the way of good. You were soaked in spit from the nose down, something only a good washing could remedy, so you push it to the back of your mind for now and move to obey, hastily laying out flat on your back across the floor. 

For better or worse it doesn’t take long for you to figure out what he’s planning to do, and you swallow the lump in your throat as you watch him shuffle around to kneel beside your head. He looks like an elegant, dangerous cat hovering over you, all the more so when he pins you with that serrated edge smile. The faint flush on his cheekbones doesn’t detract from the air of superiority he holds over you, whether natural or by design, and in fact only seems to highlight his almost preternatural beauty. You’d never known someone so pretty, regardless of their gender, and you can’t quite shake the feeling of looking upon a blessed work of art as he gathers the loose fabric of his priest garb in both hands. 

Then, to your surprise, he throws one leg over your chest, straddling you backwards with his front pointed towards your feet, and you suddenly forget how to breathe. You aren’t sure how to react, what to do, so you just lie there, prone and helpless, while he hikes up the back of his robe to expose his ass again. He was still denying you even the pleasure, the simple satisfaction of seeing his cock with your own eyes, but you were under the distinct impression that he must have been straining hard by the way he looks back at you over his shoulder. The simmering heat in his dark eyes gives him away. 

“You don’t mind, do you?” 

Effectively robbed of your voice, all you can do is shake your head. 

He chuckles at that, clearly amused but unconcerned at your lack of a verbal response, and you hold your breath as he starts to lower himself. You think you might really faint, as overwhelmed as you are by the whole thing. Somehow you manage to keep it together though and you groan faintly when he settles on top of you, not quite sitting his full weight down but enough so that you quickly find it hard to breathe. It feels like you really might suffocate in his ass this time, more so when he gives his hips a slight wiggle to get comfortable and make sure his puckered entrance was right where he wanted it. 

“There. That’s nice, isn’t it?” 

Your attempt at a response is horribly muffled and incomprehensible, a mess of gibberish that may not have made much sense at all even if you weren’t currently being smothered. That clearly doesn’t bother him, however, and you whimper when he reaches down to take your hands in his so he can redirect them around his waist and up to the front of his robe. 

“Hold this for me?” 

Numbly, you fist your fingers into the thick material and let him position them as he wanted. You felt silly and inconsequential, a thing and not a person with him seated upon you like this. Just like a king on his impromptu throne. But you were hardly in any position to complain. Even when humiliation cuts through you like a sharp razor blade, even when embarrassed heat floods your face to make you even dizzier than you already were, you still couldn’t find it in you to advocate against this treatment. 

If Geto Suguru wanted to treat you like a chair and nothing more then that was what he would do. 

If he wanted to treat you like an inanimate mastubatory aid then that was his prerogative as well. 

You were his to do with as he saw fit, and you have to make a conscious effort to stop your hands from shaking when he settles more firmly on top of you, puckered hole pressing tight against your mouth until you have no choice but to open it. He moans, very softly, at the sensation before reaching around, presumably to take his cock in hand. The eager clench of his ass tells you the exact moment he gives it a tight, savory squeeze. 

“Don’t forget to use your tongue …” 

He sounds distracted. Thoroughly preoccupied now, but you happily comply without protest as you reach out past teeth and lips to lap at him again. The responding groan is needy, perhaps even a little frazzled, and it slices through you like a hacksaw. You’ve never heard anything like that come out of him before, or anyone else for that matter. It was a heated noise that seemed otherworldly for as beautiful as it was. The kind of sound an seraph might make, if they could or would engage in an act such as this. 

Unbothered by the lack of oxygen you were getting, you dazedly poke your tongue up to dip it into the center of his hole. You were hoping, praying, to catch that sound again but all you get for your trouble is a breathy exhale that seems to waver at the tail end. That’s not nearly enough to discourage you though, and you crane your neck up to attack the center of his body with the same fervor as before, worming your way inside so you can massage along his pulsing guts. 

Suguru twitches on top of you, his breath coming a little quicker now as he slowly thrusts his hips forward and then back. You shudder at the realization that he was fucking into his fist, dragging out the strokes to elongate the pleasure of them while pointedly dragging his asshole across your mouth at the same time. It has you squirming underneath him, pitifully rubbing your thighs together in search of relief, no matter how blithe it might be, but he doesn’t even seem to notice. He was intent on chasing his release now, and you struggle to keep your tongue moving when his motions start to pick up. 

Quicker now, he rocks between your mouth and his hand, letting out soft little huffs and groans while he does it. Nothing quite like that sound he’d first made but these were nice too. They were husky and hot, giving away the true extent of his arousal. You wondered if he was leaking precum all over his knuckles, or if he was using it to lubricate his palm. If he was rubbing over the glans with a blocky, callous worn thumb to stimulate the nerve endings there or if he was more focused on making his fist as tight as possible for him to fuck into. You wished you could see, that you could watch him tug himself to completion, but just getting to be this close to him while he did it seemed enough for now. 

Assuming you didn’t die here on the floor of his private chambers, smothered to death by his ass, you’d have plenty of material for your own mastubatory fantasies to last a lifetime. It was well worth the risk and the price you might potentially pay. 

“Oh, right there, love … deeper, go deeper!” 

You try your best to oblige even when the root of your tongue aches in protest, already stretched to its limit. Gasping and heaving, struggling just to keep from passing out, you forcibly wriggle it into the clenching heat of his body with everything you’ve got, determined to meet his every need. He responds in kind with a fervent thrust of his pelvis, riding your mouth with quickly growing need. You hadn’t expected him to be so affected, so caught up in the pleasure, but you carefully file it all away with what little wherewithal you still possess. It wasn’t much, hardly more than a drop of higher functioning thought left at your disposal, and yet that seemed to be all you needed. You could feel your own excitement growing in tandem with his and your body reacts to each sound, each shifting motion as if you were experiencing the same sensations as he was. 

And when his ass suddenly squeezes down on your tongue in a vice grip your pussy responds in kind, tightening to the point of discomfort. Suguru groans, just as beautifully as before, and it makes your toes curl while he faintly jerks on top of you, stiffly riding out what could only be a powerful orgasm. Elation quickly rushes in to flood your cotton stuffed head as if you’d experienced the same high of relief even as your guts clamp up, left hanging on the precipice indefinitely, but you try to tell yourself that you don’t mind it. His pleasure was your pleasure after all, and you were thankful just for that. 

Gradually, some moments later, he starts to relax on top of you and you suck in a gasping breath of air when he gingerly rocks forward to lift his ass from your face. The sense that everything was spinning around you at an alarming speed only increases as he moves to dismount and you squint against the faint light coming from the lamp in the corner. Even that was too much for your eyes after they’d adjusted to the darkness under his robe, a surprisingly apt metaphor for the malicious spell he had you under, but this too was something that didn’t bother you half as much as it probably should have. 

What does register in your mind as alarm, however, is the creamy white ropes of cum you find staining down the front of your clothes when you lift your head. It made sense, in a way. Where else was he supposed to cum if not on you? Still, you can’t quite keep the shock off your face and he titters quietly at your expression while he makes casual work of straightening out his robes again. 

“That’s quite a face you’re making. Is something wrong?” 

“No.” You practically croak. Stopping long enough to clear your throat, you try again. “No, nothings wrong, Geto-sama.” 

“Good. Now, I hope you’ll think twice before trying to stir up trouble again.” 

You visibly wither at that. “I will. I promise.” 

Drawing a stilted breath that sounds like the swing of a blade in the still air, he leans forward to brace one hand on the floor, looking at you up close. “Do you really? You know I won’t tolerate any lying.” 

“I do! I swear it!” 

The corners of his eyes wrinkle when he smiles, looking fittingly like a sly and powerful fox demon. “Good. I’d hate to have to punish you again for the same thing, but if you and that tongue of yours ever need a reminder don’t hesitate to come see me again. I’ll set you straight as many times as you need.” Then, with a sense of finality, he sits back and moves to stand. “Come. It’s just about time for dinner and I do believe your father will be joining us this evening, isn’t that right?” 

Your stomach sinks. You’d almost completely forgotten. 

No, not almost. 

You really did forget after everything that had happened today. Was it really any wonder though? It seemed like only a few short minutes had come and gone here in the secluded privacy of Suguru’s chamber but it had to have been going on over an hour now since he’d steered you through the door with a mindful hand on the small of your back. 

A shudder races through you at the reminder but you quickly shrug it off, clambering to get on your feet as well. “I’m so sorry for keeping you like this. I’ll change as quickly as I can and - -“

“Ah, ah. That’s not what I told you to do, is it?” The knowing smirk on his face grows, sharpens and slices through you like a knife. You’re wholly mortified at the way your pussy throbs in response to it, drawing attention to the fact that you were soaking into your underwear. It felt like you’d already cum at least twice, but you knew all too well that that was not the case. “If I’d wanted you to get cleaned up first I would have said that, wouldn’t I? Hm? I told you to come. You’re not going to disobey me are you?”

“No, Geto-sama, o - of course not!” 

Chuckling, he turns to make for the door. “Then let’s get a move on. I’d hate to keep your father waiting.” 

You hesitate only a brief moment, slowly glancing over yourself one last time. The threads of sticky semen splattered across your front were quickly drying but not nearly at the rate you would have liked. They were leaving behind wet, globular stains, the darkened patches in the fabric regrettably noticeable by your estimation. Maybe they wouldn’t be as obvious to other people though. Maybe they’d just assume you spilled water or some kind of oil on your clothes. Maybe no one would ask any questions. 

Not quite convinced your luck would hold out, you hurry to follow after Suguru just as any devout lamb following their shepherd should. Through heaven or hell, fire or high water, you would let him lead you to any stretch of this earth and back as many times as he saw fit, in whatever condition pleased him. Even now, even after your dehumanizing trial, there was nothing you wouldn’t do to earn his good graces and stay in them. 

Absolutely nothing.

⭐

Crossposted: here